My last day in Tashkent was spent watching the snow and sleet from the comfort of my accommodation, sharing space and time with fellow lodgers from Italy (Daniele) and Tajikistan (Hassan). We made an odd grouping but it was a wholly satisfying day. Talk ranged from travel tales, visa restrictions for the UK, travel in Kazakhstan (and how cold it currently was = -25’C), life in Tajikistan, food in Tajikistan, womens’s rights and roles in our various countries, Brexit (pros & cons), life in London and how to enjoy it cheaply, the beauty of Italy, the largeness of Australia and the fabulous production of Swan Lake that I saw on Friday night. The lads played a few cut-throat games of droughts and I generally whiled away my hours dipping in and out of the conversation as the day went on. Given the weather I did not do the shopping I had thought to do so I leave Uzbekistan with a sheet of stamps, a scarf and some wonderful memories and photos. With the remaining Som I ventured into the frosty elements to get supplies for my train and decided to get enough for us all to have a mini picnic for supper and the last 50,000 SM (£5) went on some very drinkable Kazakhstan cognac shared with Daniele. With some sadness (and more that a little tempted to stay and enjoy the craic with my new friends) I headed off to the train station for overnight-day-night train of the far northwest of Kazakhstan. 

About an hour outside Tashkent, we had a two hour stop for Uzbek border control. All very slow and much to-ing and fro-ing in the corridors. Also very cold as the heating was not on. The good news was that the officials came to us and I did not have to get off the train and stand in the freezing cold. When we finally moved on, about 30 mins later we went through Kazakh border control and, despite being nervous about the process, was pleasantly surprised at how efficient the system was. A small mobile unit was used which scanned my passport, took photo, allowed operator the update the system and which was the followed a satisfyingly sharp click of the stamp in my passport – and I could finally get ready for bed. But not before a visit from my carriage guards who were interested in my coming from Australia (‘Kangaroos!), would like to have seen (or just have, it was hard to tell) some Australian money, and inexplicably, one wanted some eye drops for his sore eyes. They did look sore but I am not sure why he thought I was the right person to ask. All done with smiles and warm handshakes. Sleep at last and only 4.40am – to be woken by some random man who entered my cabin (thus far shared with no-one) to ask did I have any SOM. I did but only about the equivalent of £1 so after I woke up, ferreted around for the notes, he left in disgust. Serves him right after waking me up!

Since then I have had breakfast/lunch and being looking out the window at the endless plains that we are passing through: snow sprinkled vistas; snowy ragged mountains in the distance; scrappy towns that have elaborate stations; cattle, horses, camels, sheep & goats; occasional humans and a distant busy highway that we have been tacking for a while; remote grave yards; iced over puddles; and glimpses of the tough life that these remote places present. It is sunny and clear, and, I have no doubt, freezing.