he filled an aluminium mug with water , put it on the gas stove and lit the flame . He showed me where to find the instant coffee and rejoined the others . When I returned with our steaming cups the guys were into their second glass of beer . Knowing where this would lead , we slurped as fast as the hot brew allowed and persuaded our hosts that we really must leave . Like everyone else on this trip they only accepted cigarettes and good company as payment and waved us off with huge smiles .
Meanwhile the rain had started , and we spent the rest of the day slipping and sliding down bendy mountain roads through spectacular landscapes hidden in the clouds . We were simultaneously wishing to get ahead and fearfully watching the miles rack up , knowing the petrol was going down in equal measure .
Just as the sun reclaimed the sky in the afternoon the road improved and finally returned to tarmac and the view opened into rolling hills . Villages became more frequent , and we followed a sign for a petrol station . It turned out to be derelict with some locals sitting on a cracked concrete wall to the side . They helpfully pointed up a residential street . We followed our noses to where the smell of gasoline was most pungent and found a man selling petrol from large buckets in his garden shed . MS
TRAVERSE 103