Since we went to bed earlier than your average pensioner, we were wide awake at the crack of dawn. Handily the hotel didn't do breakfast, so getting nutrients didn't slow us down as we set off towards the border. One/the only benefit of coming to Termiz was that we could start the Pamir highway from the very start this morning.

 

The Pamir Highway broke part of our car before we had even left Uzbekistan. The road quality deteriorated as we took wrong turns while trying to follow a single road and an old problem returned. The rear bolts holding the sump guard jumped from the car to avoid a further battering - it seems putting new bolts in worn holes doesn't really solve anything. We rattled our way through a police checkpoint and found a mechanic lurking on the other side.

 

An obvious metallic scraping sound coming from beneath the car acts as a good ice-breaker when you don't speak Russian well enough to explain things. The closest I could get was "Machina problems", he nodded in agreement that it was less than ideal and indicated for us to drive over the inspection pit. He shot under the car and had started drilling new holes before I had even asked. While he worked we chatted to the people gathering around the car, and admired the old lada being dissected next to us. When the sump was fully guarded again I asked how much he wanted, but he just shook his head and smiled instead.

 

With our sump firmly protected again we drove along the road until we arrived at something that looked like it might be a border crossing. A little kid took our passport behind some shops where we found a police man lurking in a bush. Like some bizarre final challenge to test our worthiness to complete our quest to fill every police booklet, the child pointed at a metal bar attached to the tree and indicated to do some pull-ups. It seems the child had not read the details taken at previous checkpoints and did not know me at all. I feigned being tired and the policemen took down our details regardless. The Uzbekistan side of the border was straight forward enough, we filled in a piece of paperwork in Russian which looked similar to the one we filled in when we entered the country. It might have been risky to tick the boxes based on the previous form, for all I know we could have been directly telling customs about that kilo of cocaine we had stashed in the wheel well. The Uzbek guards must have been following the standard border procedure, as Chris was given his complimentary cavity search inside while I stayed with the car for paperwork and searching. Clearly the guard was having a slow day, instead of searching the car he sat in the drivers seat and flicked through the photos on my phone and camera. When he didn't find any particularly interesting photos on them he indicated that he wanted to see the laptop instead. The laptop we brought to back up videos and photos is of the old variety and holds its charge like a balloon with a hole in it holds air. Needless to say the border guard was not impressed when it wouldn't turn on, mainly because he wanted to watch some porn. At least the whistling, hand gestures and winking certainly gave that impression. When I said there wasn't any on the computer he sighed and looked disappointed before saying I could go.

 

In between borders there were a few buildings dotted around, as we drove past a man ran out and waved to go to him before continuing. We walked back down the hill and when we finally reached him he lead us into his shack where another strange man was sat on a bed in a small filthy room. The original man dressed in scrubs confidently announced "I AM DOCTOR" and swiftly started asking basic details like our names and ages. The "doctor" then spent a good few minutes taking down all the details of the car as if he was also a mechanic. After he was done entering the car details on his computer or he might have playing solitaire I can't be sure, he held out a plastic torch and "took our temperature". Luckily he confirmed neither of us were dying, which is good because I didn't really fancy letting him have a crack at taking out my appendix. The enterprising bastard then charged us $3 for confirming we were both still alive.

 

Outside the "Doctor's Office" we were directed to another building up the road to get a piece of paper. The man inside the shack took down some details about the car and stamped a piece of paper then charged us $3. Which seemed like a rip off considering we could have gotten a full medical examination from the "doctor" for that. The final building was a hybrid of the previous two, inside the room there was medical equipment gathering dust on a shelf for occasions when he was feeling the need for healing the ailments of travellers. The man inside the room took the stamped form from the previous scam and copied it directly onto an identical form, somewhat weirdly this new form was also $3.

 

At the end of no-man's land was Tajikistan with an semi-constructed border crossing. Not really having a building at the border makes it a lot easier since there's no where to "search" or actually search the car. Instead the little shed next to the construction site had a place to register the car. This one must have been legitimate because I found two fellow ralliers waiting inside. Both were from teams we had passed through the Iranian border with, the Aussie teams - Khan Touch This and one of the British teams - The Lion Rampant. They had already been to the doctor so at least they were not contagious and I could join in the paperwork fun. After the same old details were taken, the piece of paperwork was completed, paid for, and we were free to go. The other teams were also going to be attempting the Pamir highway so we decided to stalk them into Dushanbe for the evening.

 

After a few U-turns we found a small guest house with space for camping in a residential area of the city. Unpacking the cars was an event in itself as we were swarmed by local kids. The little s@&%s would grab anything that wasn't tied down and ask if they could have it. They tried for the globe, the horn, the sunglasses, the extinguishers, and every other item in the car. Soon unpacking the car became a group activity, if one person was unpacking there were six to act in defense. The three foot long crow bar, affectionately named "The Enforcer", was placed slowly and deliberately on the roof of the cars and we suddenly found ourselves free of kids. The Australian team dropped off their car at a mechanic after dinner to get a sump guard fitted, because it would be stupid to attempt the Pamir Highway without one.