I departed for the Kazakhstan border which is a short distance from the centre of Tashkent. As I went through a police check I asked if I was on the right road to be told the border crossing was closed to vehicular traffic and I would have to go to the Chinoz crossing some 60 miles away. Amazingly at Chinoz there were no signs pointing to the border and I had to enquire of a local lorry driver who pointed me to a small country lane saying it was just 3kms away. I was a bit dubious whether such a country lane could lead to the border but as it was only 3kms decided to give it a try. Sure enough there it was. It took me about 20 minutes to pass through the Uzbeck control and arrived at the Kazakh border at 12.15 to find it closed. A guard explained the staff were having their lunch and nothing would happen for 45 minutes until 1.00pm. As soon as it opened I was called forward and commenced the lengthy entry procedure.

Ahead of me at customs was a Russian car and driver being given the whole works. Everything was taken out of the car and being minutely inspected. There were several customs officers present but only one appeared active. I completed my declaration and had it stamped and started to wait for the officer to finish with the Russian and then come to me. One of the inactive officers took pity on me and told me to go which I did without needing a second invitation.

Although the roads are not good in Kazakhstan they are distinctly better than Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan. (that soon changed as I rode north where for long stretches they became unmade) I was just entering the city limits of Shymkent where I decided I would stay the night when I was stopped by a traffic police officer. I pulled up and began to produce my documents and I knew I had not been speeding this time. He asked where I was from and if I was tourist. He showed no interest at all in my documents and blatantly rubbed his thumb and forefinger together saying ‘cash’. I changed some money at the border and the lowest note I had was 2000 teng which is about $15. He took it walked away and waved me off in the direction of Shymkent.

As I rode into the city I passed a 4 star hotel on my left. I carried on a bit further but didn’t see any other hotels and so decided to return to the 4 star. I was offered a room at $120 but negotiated it down to $100 and was able to pay by credit card. There was also an atm in the lobby from which I was able to draw cash.

Alongside was an Italian restaurant where I decided to have supper. The staff spoke no English and the menu was only in Russian. I had taken my dictionary with me and was working my way through the menu when the English speaking receptionist from the hotel suddenly appeared and asked if she could help me choose.

The hotel has wifi but only in the lobby and not in the bedrooms. After dinner I called Davina on Skype and was happily chatting away when I was joined by a 37 year old (he told me his age after enquiring mine) who also wanted to join in the conversation. He was friendly enough but was emboldened by the content of the vodka bottle he had with him.

So far the bike seems ok. The temporary fix for the missing bolt appears to be working. Let’s hope my good fortune continues.

Day 39 – I enlisted the help of the receptionist to find an insurance broker as I am again without insurance cover. She asked me to return to reception at 9.30 which I did and was given the name of a broker just a short walk from the hotel. She kindly rang them and told them I wanted cover for my bike.

I found the broker operated by 3 women none of whom spoke a word of English. They knew I wanted to insure my bike which gave me a head start. With the aid of my Oxford Pocket Russian dictionary, a copy of the insurance certificate I received in Uzbekistan (written in Russian) and my faltering attempt at Russian we managed to agree they could cover me for a calendar month starting today. The bill came to 771 teng which translates to just over $5, which seemed a good deal.

Whilst sitting there I noticed their clock which was an hour ahead of my watch. I returned to the hotel and checked the time with them and found Kazakh time is 5 hours ahead of the UK and not 4 as I thought. It was therefore 11.40 and not 10.40 meaning I had 20 minutes to change and clear my room by the midday checkout time. It also meant I had lost an hour of valuable travel time.

Day 40 - The road from Shymkent to Turkistan is very variable. They are in the process of building a new road but they have a strange way of completing a mile or so then leaving a mile or so of unmade road before hitting the next stretch of new road. The unmade sections are very rough and frequently consist of loose gravel with deep potholes. I can shoot ahead and overtake lorries on the good surface but they catch me up and overtake me on the unmade sections covering me with clouds of dust as they go by.

It was just over 100 miles to Turkistan and another 170+ to Quizlorda. I arrived in Turkistan at about 4pm and decided to call it a day. A car of 4 young men flagged me down and were keen to say hello. They asked if I was looking for an hotel and said they would lead me to one. I was a little dubious and thought the one at which they stopped was not what I was looking for and rode on. They followed and flagged me down a second time. I pulled out my Lonely Plant guide and said I was looking for the Hotel Yassy described as the best in town with an efficient restaurant and breakfast included in the price. The young men led me to the to the Yassy and then sped off which made me feel bad about doubting their intentions. The guide is 5 years out of date and my have things changed. The restaurant no longer operates nor does the hotel do breakfast. However, it was 3,000 teng being $21 so not a lot of room to complain.

I was told that if I walked to the left I would be able to find food. That was true but it was food in a supermarket and no restaurant in sight. I bought some provisions and brought them back to the hotel and as I did so I noticed a barbecue cooking shaslik (lamb kebab) next to the hotel. I placed an order for 2 skewers and about half an hour later they were delivered to my room. I’m not now sure what to do with the John West can of salmon I bought.

I checked on the bike when I arrived. The 2 fastenings on the right side are fine but the upper bolt on the left side had been shaken loose again and my temporary fixing of the lower bolt on the left side was merely being held in position by the gaffar tape I wrapped around it. The fact it is there means it is taking some weight and is an improvement on the previous nothing but I shall have to find a mechanic to see if he has a bolt of the right size. I was a little disheartened when the receptionist said there are no motor mechanics in Turkistan which I find a little surprising. I shall go to look tomorrow.

During the day I was again stopped by the traffic police, I pulled up and began to produce my documents and I knew I had not been speeding this time. He asked where I was from and if I was tourist. He showed no interest at all in my documents and blatantly rubbed his thumb and forefinger together saying ‘cash’. I changed some money at the border and the lowest note I had was 2000 teng which is about $15. He took it walked away and waved me off in the direction of Shymkent.

I left Turkistan looking for a car mechanic workshop but there were none. I rode on gingerly hoping my bolt would hold. As I came into Kyzylorda I saw 3 Polish bikers stopped at the roadside. I pulled over to say hello and they asked me how I was doing. I mentioned the problem with the missing bolt and before I knew it one of them produced a bolt from his kit and fitted it for me. job done !!

Day 41 – I made an early start departing Kyzylorda at 8.15 intending to ride the 300 miles to Aralsk provided the roads permitted. They turned out to be appallingly bad comprising mainly unmade roads covered with gravel with occasional good sections.

I was about 40 miles from Bayonqur, the Russian space launch site, when the road improved. It was then about 1pm and I was just under half way to Aralsk. It gets dark at 7.30ish and I reckoned if this good road continued for some distance I might just make Aralsk before dark. I don’t like riding in the dark partly because I no longer have a dipped headlight and partly because it is extremely difficult to see potholes.

The good road lasted for about 25 miles and there was very little traffic; so to make up time I admit to being a little heavy handed with the throttle. Just before the end of the good section I could see a car parked in the distance and slowed, but clearly not enough, and as I suspected the vehicle was a police car with a policeman operating a hand held speed gun. I was pulled over as were a couple of vehicles coming after me. I thought I could not argue with being stopped this time and resigned myself to losing some cash either in a legitimate fine or some ’baksheesh’ for the officer. I took my turn to sit in his car and to my surprise he smiled and waved me to go. That was a genuine let off.

With this delay, by the time I got Bayonqur it was after 2 o’clock and I decided not to risk a night under the stars as it appears hotels exist only in moderate sized towns. The police officer told me the road was not good to Aralsk which fortified my decision.

Bayonqur is a bit of a ‘wild west’ town in the middle of nowhere. The wind whistles across the open plain and I was canted at a 5 degree angle to balance the strength of it. This is where all Russian space flights, from Yuri Gegarin onwards have been launched. The space drome is about 30 kms from the town in a restricted area to which admittance is not normally permitted unlike Cape Canaveral.

I asked if there was a ‘gastinitza’ i.e. hotel or motel and there is just one called the Italianitski about 2 miles out of town. It is a truckers’ stopover and is at the other end of the scale from the hotel I stayed in last night. The room is clean but there is a shared loo and bathroom over the corridor. The choice was either this or a serious risk of a night under the stars and this won.

Day 42 – What a day. I rose at 5.30 to make an early start. After breakfast I loaded the bike and was off at just before 7am. One of the men connected with the motel who was on the bottle at 6am came to say goodbye. Before I knew it he jumped on the back on the top of my luggage and wouldn’t get off. He demanded a lift to his home about 4 miles away. There was nothing I could do to shift him and decided it was easier and safer to oblige. I tried braking suddenly so his head hit my helmet and accelerating but nothing was going to shake him off.
Here's a picture of the drunken oaf:

The roads were awful with some good stretches occasionally. I had 2 low speed offs when I hit deep sand. The first time 2 Chinese men stopped to help me lift the bike and the second time 2 cars stopped to help.

I managed 125 miles in the first 5 hours and decided to continue as the road was better.

I was very careful with my speed but inevitably got pulled over by 2 traffic policemen. There was no pretence of speeding or giving me a lecture. One of them demanded my licence and then drew a 5000 teng note ($35) from his wallet and said that was what he wanted to give me my licence back. I duly paid up and departed.

There was absolutely nothing for mile after mile except sandy scrub and a few camels – this time of the 2 hump variety.

There are no signs giving distances to places and at about 4.45 I saw a café, stopped and asked if there was a hotel nearby. They said they had a room which they showed me. It comprises 14 bunk beds, no water and no toilet but for $3.50 what can you expect.

I thought it better to accept that than continue without any prospect in sight of a bed for the night. They gave me soup, bread and tea for another $3.50. I am hopeful no-one else seeks a room here and at least I have the room to myself.

My hopes were dashed when at about midnight two men turned out of the bar and joined the dorm. I slept a bit fitfully but was relieved when they left at about 4am I think to be picked up by a lorry.

Day 43 - I decided to have breakfast at 6.00 when it starts and was packing my things when a most surprising incident occurred. The establishment is run by a young couple who sleep in a converted container at the rear of the premises. They are assisted by grandma who I suspect sleeps in the main building. I saw grandma come into the rear courtyard and before I knew it she had lifted her skirt and was lowering her knickers with chamberpot in hand. I quickly averted my eyes as I didnt want to see what followed.

The place has no running water and no bathroom facilities. It made me realise just how we take for granted the fact we all have bathrooms, running water and flush loos. Here was this woman, probably about the same age as me, who has lived in this primitive way all her life.

I made it to Aktobe which is a reasonable size city. As I entered the city I saw my first real biker in the 'stans. He pulled over and I joined him and asked if he could direct me to a hotel. He said follow me and off we went through the city to a very pleasant hotel.

There must be a lot of dishonesty in Kazakhstan as there was a security guard on each floor of the hotel. When leaving I decided to get my bike from the car park before breakfast and load it so I could make a quick getaway. As I walked to the car park a security guard followed me and asked what I intended.

If you enter a bank security guards monitor you as you enter and decide whether to permit you to pass through a revolving barrier into the bank itself. The same happens on leaving. Having passed through the barrier there are then sliding doors also controlled by security. I would think it is almost impossible to rob a bank in this part of the world.

When going to a filling station you have to deposit money with the cashier before he/she turns on the petrol pump.

Day 44 - When leaving Aktobe I was not sure of the direction for Uralsk and paid for a taxi driver to put me on the right road. After a considerable drive he pulled over and told me "straight on". After a few minutes I was concerned I was going the right way as some of the scenery appeared familiar. My compass told me I was going wast and not west and I was heading back towards Bayqonur. To confirm I pulled over to one of my friendly traffic officers who confirmed my suspicions were correct. I thought I might at least get some value for the pension funds contributions I have made.

I then headed back into the city and picked up the signs for Oral/Uralsk.

The road from Aktobe towards Uralsk is probably the worst I experienced. The first few miles is poor with lots of bumps and potholes but then it peters out to into unmade road lasting for approximately 80 miles. Progress is very slow, most of it being undertaken in 1st and 2nd gear. Car and heavy lorries come bouncing by leaving clouds of dust behind them. Fortunately the last 200 miles reverts to decent roads.

Day 45 - Having stayed the night in Uralsk I headed for the Russian border. About 15 miles short I pulled over and within a minute or two was joined by German biker. Shortly after that we were joined by 2 Slovak bikers and the four of us rode together to the border.

The German had a problem with his visa and had to wait at the Kazakh exit point. The 3 of us then continued to the Russian entry point and completed our documentation. In passing through borders you have to show your passport several times and I put mine in the map case of my top-box for easy access.

I am normally very careful with documents but in this instant was lax. The 2 Slovaks intended stopping about 5 kms down the road and I said I would join them. They rode off and I followed. After about 2 miles I glanced at my top-box and realised my passport and immigration paper was missing. My heart sank - how would I handle a lost passport ?I slowly rode back to the border and then back to where I started but found nothing. I decided to give it a second try and when I reached the border explained to the guard I had lost my passport. He made a telephone call to see if one had been handed in, but no such luck.

I thought I would have to go to the British embassy in Moscow to obtain an emergency travel document and would have to face the nightmare of trying to explain what happened to the local police. As I was making the second return journey I saw a little red book lying in the verge which I immediately recognised as my missing passport. As I stopped to recover it I saw a piece of white paper which had blown across the road which was my immigration paper. I cannot tell you how relieved I was and said a little prayer of thanks.

I was enormously glad to be out of Kazakhstan and back into civilisation in Russia. The roads improved and it was immediately apparent the standard of living is much better. I could find nothing to recommend Kazakhstan. The towns are few and far between and the standard of housing very low. There is desert in the south which become scrub as you travel further north. Petrol stations are few and far between. On one occasion I rode over 200 miles between stations. Can you imagine travelling from Southampton to Sheffield with no petrol station in between ?

The traffic police are a major problem as I have described. I hope it will prove better in Russia. The guide book says be patient and refuse to pay money buy I am not sure that is correct. I feel they have the upper hand and once your documents are in their possession they are calling the shots. Taking a pragmatic view I conclude it is better to play their game and get on my way rather than sit there hoping they will relent. Goodness know what they might do if they become annoyed and thwarted.

The one good thing was that lots of people waved at me from the roadside and in passing cars. Lorry drivers often tooted and waved.