The link above should open google-maps to show my latest position ...
Osh
Osh. Now there's an odd sounding name. In fact it sounds more like an exclamation to my ears. But in truth it's quite a nice place. After weeks of relative wilderness and often cool to cold conditions while up in the mountainous areas of Central Asia this place boasted a warm to hot climate and had all the usual creature comforts to offer us travel weary bike touro's. Until that is, it came to our accommodation ...
We'd opted for one of the Lonely Planet recommended guest-houses, as it was as good a start as any. But when we finally found it down a side-street, it had a full-house sign posted to show we were out of luck. We were then directed to their 2nd property, which was only a five minute walk away. Duly following the lead of the resident house-minder we arrived at the back of a dingy looking apartment block. Entering in past curious local residents gave it a border-line thumbs-up after which we installed ourselves into the dorm', as it seemed to be the best value against the relative expense of a separate room. In any case it appeared there was more space available in the dorm' as there were only two other guys in there at the time of our arrival. The guest-house itself was very basic, but really didn't expect too much because as was the norm, we generally went straight for the budget end of the accommodation market.
We ended up staying 2 nights only in this our first place of residence, as it was discovered we had to share the down-beat bathroom with a shop out the front. I tried to explain to the manager that this wasn't really acceptable as each time I went in there the floor was swimming with water and further, because the people from the shop wore their outside shoes, it soon took on the appearance of a muddy puddle. Not nice, because a big sign on the back-entrance to the guest-house compelled us to remove our shoes when we came in ... Further again, was the fact that the floor of the dorm' hadn't been washed in a very long time. In the interests of improving my living space took on this service and after only 10 or so minutes work, threw away a bucket of water that was the colour of soy sauce. The second bucketful was still the hue of thin gravy, and soon became clear this could finish up a never ending task so finally gave up ...
We gave the proprietor one day to do something about the unsatisfactory state of cleanliness, by either giving us a discount or getting the place cleaner. But he was reluctant to let us stay for less than the originally agreed price, and not unexpectedly after one single occasion of cleaning the tatty little bathroom, we were soon back to paddling in dirty water from the shop assistants foot-wear again. The last straw was someone trying to get in to empty their tea-pot into the sink, while i was still under the shower. The next day we left.
Pre-empting the fact that the dirty conditions would continue, we'd already had a reccy' in a couple of other places, with the main enquiry being “How much?” There weren't too many cheap hotels around, but we found another one a five minute ride down through the market and across an adjacent bridge. The Alysh Hotel was to be our home for the next week or so ...
In all honesty it wasn't that much better because a quick scan of the walls and floors showed it was subject to little more than a cursory clean following each occupancy. I'd doubt very much if it had seen renovation of any kind in a couple of decades or perhaps more. The beds were as hard as ... and the towel was made from a material that was as absorbent as a supermarket carrier-bag. But we had heaps more space and with two rooms branching off of a small entrance hall, the addition of the bathroom meant it was in actual fact a small apartment. All for the princely sum of 5 US dollars. I don't recall how much we paid for the first dirt-encrusted place, but do remember thinking we'd got double the value for our money by moving. And better still, was that it was close to the market, so we could get our provisions quickly and easily ...
Now cooking in a hotel room isn't something I'd normally consider for many reasons. The first of which is that it's usually simply not allowed, both because of the fire-hazard as well as the fact that many establishments have a cafe or resto' attached. The Alysh couldn't claim we were taking custom from their own caterers, neither was I too worried about things from the safety aspect. While fire was of course something to stay alert to, the fumes from our camp-stoves were well ventilated by the ill-fitting windows. Along with letting in the ever present noise from the nearby road junction, these rattly fitments of glass and wood let out all the cooking fumes exchanging them for plenty of noxious gases from the traffic below.
At one time I did examine the windows in my room, to see if I could improve things, but gave up quickly as I get the distinct impression that if I fiddled with them too much the whole frame would fall out, tumbling down into the street below. I wasn't so much worried about being accused of malicious damage, but didn't want to hurt any innocent passers-by. Besides which, it would put an instant end to our money saving activity of self-catering in the apartment.
After a day Bjorn gave up fighting the ill fitting single-glazed windows and simply left his open all the time. At least it gave an impression of living out in the open. The noise of the traffic was shut out each night, by stuffing ear-plugs in, but did note that one morning when I took him in some coffee, that he'd added to noise-insulation by pulling the pillow over his head too.
To conclude the description of our apartment and my rudimentary kitchen, the flaky-painted window-sill had been pressed into service to act as a work-top and though it picked up numerous splashes and marks from the cooking, it was probably left cleaner than when we first arrived. That was because in tidying up after each meal I slowly removed what was left of the aging dark cream paintwork. When we finally moved on, that window-sill may not have had much paint left on it, but the dirt and grime that was evident on our arrival had long since gone.
Whatever else is going on in post-Soviet countries of Central Asia there is still much evidence of the old ways. One shining example of which was the service in the Alysh Hotel ...
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