Caspian Sea

Caspian Sea 1000 667 Michael

The next day we reach the border to Kazakhstan where Steve is eternally stopped because a border official does not want to accept that it is not a truck but a motorhome and therefore a car. We drive on and shortly afterwards the brake disc cover breaks on the truck. Steve explains that this happens regularly while I’m wondering that Cate does not miss us. Suddenly she gets out of a car she has found a nail again. I can’t really laugh about the following jokes that I bring misfortune, I feel long like cursed. As the truck drives again, we take Cates wheel to repair it in Beyneu. She successfully tramps with the motorbike and we arrived at the next campsite faster than expected. The sunset consoles the problems of the day. Before we reached Aktau the next day, however, the truck had a flat tire too. I start asking myself if I am going to endanger people when I go on the ferry to Baku.

In Aktau, of course, we will not be waved through directly into the ferry at the port. At least the vehicles can be registered in a bureaucracy orgy. Nobody knows when the ferry arrives. Afterwards, we went to a hotel with pool, after so much frustration something luxury feels just good. Apart from that the next day is my birthday. After original planning, I would have been already at home., I am very grateful to my manager Bernd that he has accepted two weeks of holiday extension, otherwise it would not had been possible to continue the journey meaningful. Cate sweetened my birthday breakfast with a cake and a bottle of vodka fit to the repdigit (In southern Germany these numbers are called spirit numbers, and it usual to drink some extra spirits on these birthdays). But on that day there is always the shadow hanging that we will soon no longer travel together due to the delivery time of the clutch parts. The following walk brings us to other thoughts and in the evening we go out with family Snaith. The children surprise me with homemade snakes and a card with a short poem.

During the waiting time I’m torn. There is also a plane from Aktau to Baku which costs hardly more than the ferry. I am very relieved as the ferry is no longer delayed and we can go. The waiting time after the arrival of the ferry is disproportionate and the condition of the ferry is worryingly bad. My streak of bad luck continues to pursue me. In my head, I have already left Cate the piece of driftwood, while I’m sinking exhausted in the Caspian Sea. Luckily just in my head. The company of the other travelers distracted me. Especially the hitchhiker couple Malin and Alex remains in my memory. Their videos compiled from rather unspectacular scenes are nevertheless exciting and I wonder if my constant desire for more spectacular targets is perhaps only stupid. Gilly also shows videos of her 4-year journey. The pictures make me very happy, it’s like a look in my own dreams.

Caspian Sea

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