Update: 23:10

Parts

The value-add of couriers is that when you tell them to shove a parcel through the door regardless, they corporately agree but the driver will refer back to the "no parcels valued at more GBP50 through the letterbox rule" and you've wasted a day.

Not to worry, the latest report is that the two oil seals (in case the mechanics insist on doing both at once) plus a dust seal (just in case some clumsy fingered mechanic does some damage) have been sent today with some rather optomistic prediction that they are gong to be in Almaty by 5pm Tuesday.

Ho ho ho. Still, you have to want for these things to happen and not be so cynical.

No oil, though. It seems the DHL representative disagreed with the website and the 500ml tub (at 1.3kg!) would have had the cheapest offer of being sent with the 50% online discount offer of collection on Monday for 1-5 days deliver at GBP135. These comedians would be lucky to hit the ground if they fell over!

Still, as effective monopolies (for some countries) or cartels (did I accuse them of that?) for others you've little choice.

I'll have to play the oil situation by ear.

Steinbrau

Yesterday, I walked for 70-odd minutes in search of a German brauhaus here in Bishkek. A tempting prospect for this reporter. Instead I found myself shaking my fist at the LP map (and using some coarse Anglo-Saxon) and ultimately staggering back into town and eating at the "Beta Gourmet" (helpfully described in the LP as Beta Stores Restaurant) which is the equivalent of a big busy restaurant (rather than a cafe) at a Tescos.

Wandering around a dodgy part of town as the light faded was not a welcome prospect. I had wandered through a housing estate and across a park and seen someone crouching over some reddish spew. Not pleasant. I had found a large Steinbrau sign in front of what turned out to be the local hostpital cum industrial units. Very odd.

Today though, I set off a couple of hours earlier (to avoid the dodgy neighbourhood at dusk scenario) and after ending up in the same neck of the woods, braved the dubiousness of the surrounds and found the airy and pleasant brauhaus a mere 30m from where I had been last night. It's surrounded by blocks of flats and the only signage happened to be visible to me as I emerged from a "glad I'm not here a night" garage area and entirely not visible from where I was last night.

Still, I have valiantly made my way through the lagers on offer (a couple of times) and must admit that I couldn't tell you if they hadn't simply poured the same beer every time. Ho hum. I'd rather I'd reckognised Munich sausages as being frankfurters rather than wurst.