Update: Mon 19:20

Currently in: Bishkek, KG

Just a couple of interesting thoughts.

The Dootchman mentioned being quite close to the Kazakh border on the Bishkek road and he wasn't wrong. At one point the tarmac was edged by a three roll-high barbed wire fence. The fence then jumped over and followed the far side of the river (adacent to the road) but the edge of the tarmac being the notional border was pretty close.

The comfy guest house is roughly $25 per night so I needed to get some money. I've obviously wandered (the 20mins) into town and every other frontage appears to be offering exchange rates. I stepped into one, more bank-like, operation and one of my UK-issued 100-dollar bills was rejected as it had a small ink stamp on it. The ink stamp meant nothing other than the note was defaced. He offered 4300Som (rather than the 4450Som notional rate) for it. I declined. I stepped out of the bank and immediately saw an ATM. Dang! I'm not supposed to be using up vital emergency cash when there are ATMs around!

While I was pondering my options two locals stepped into the bank and both handed over at least one 100-dollar bill. Where are they getting them from?

On my printed Uzbek visa application form I've asked for an urgent application. Unfortunately the "inviting party" section has had to be left blank -- I am the inviting party but I don't suppose I count in this context. Maybe I won't get away with a four day turnaround. Won't know until tomorrow (or Friday) I guess.

Not quite as many Internet shops as I'd hoped. I couldn't find one of the LP ones, one I found myself (I'm almost fluent in Cyrillic now -- for a very small subset of Cyrillic) wasn't working. I then walked half of town to get here it feels like -- I'm just to the east of the main square.

Bishkek seems quite nice, quite an afluent air, Italian restaurant, Swiss chocolatiers(sp? -- this version of Firefox is complaining about the spelling of everything :-) ).

I also need to find a bike shop with fork seals and oil as my left boot (and I noticed the ground under the forks at the guesthouse) are becoming a bit messy.

Speaking of the guesthouse, the lack of English (or Russian on my park) makes life fun. Even the simple task of getting out the gate proved beyond me and I had to ask for help. She then opened the car gates (rather than the side gate) and looked at me like I was an idiot (she's certainly not the first to do that!). I can't get back in by myself either, I have to buzz them awake inside. Best not head back too late or too drunk. I have to be able to find it again for a start and I've forgotten my torch...