Recovery in Sentob
After another splendid breakfast at the desert yurt camp, we continued our tour with a new driver. The previous guy was quiet but a nice guy who could speak some English and he explained all sorts of things to us, from local history to Uzbek food and customs. Unfortunately for us, the single English word we heard from the new guy was 'passport', during one of the 'checks' at one of the many roadside patrols. Today's destination was the small village of Sentob, in the Nuratau mountains just south of the Aydar-Kul lake. Once again it was a crazy ride through the hot desert landscape, over roads that were more hole than asphalt, and accompanied by a cacophony of honks as our driver (just like everyone here) hit the honk pretty much every time we saw a car, cow or sheep on the road. Once we reached the village, the surroundings changed to a mix of rocks and dirt, with small houses built by hand with the stones from the mountains and rocky paths that were made for donk...