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been correct , perhaps it had been worth two hundred . I laughed again at the thought of paying for directions , amazingly the pain in my head had diminished to the point of nonexistence , perhaps I should ’ ve paid for the officers medical treatment instead .
Jalal-Abad provided a point to find a store selling phone charging cables as well as something to recharge the human body . Why wouldn ’ t it ? This was once a major trading point on the Silk Route and remains to this day a centre of commerce , trade , and place of rest for travellers .
A barrage of messages flooded my inbox as power was eventually restored , fellow riders worried that I had become lost , or worst . Guides and support crew desperately trying to reach me . I laughed at the concern and replied that I wasn ’ t lost , just taking my time , and wanted to visit Katarayr , a place that is on my trusted paper map yet somewhere that Google fails to recognise and place on its maps .
Confident that the way was now clear , at least to me , I rode on for what was to become one of the most spectacular rides I have ever had the pleasure of being a part of .
The road passed through Bazar Korgon , passing over the river Kara- Unkur , and immediately became a road built for two wheels . Heading west , village after village passed by all becoming more Islamic in appearance , as did the people as they seemed to be off to Friday prayers . I knew I was becoming increasing close to the Uzbek border , an observation highlighted by the row upon row of razor wire fencing . An ominous sign , a chance to take a break and observe the division of land that was once a united region of the Worlds greatest empire . A fascinating view into how a simple line and steel fence could create so much mistrust and disagreement .
Following the Naryn river , the
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