Bukhara to Tajikistan. Otkuda, otkuda, otkuda!? Get me out of here!
From Bukhara, the first 20 km’s east were actually kind of fun. The road wasn’t too bad, the wind wasn’t hindering me much and the car horns weren’t too strenuous. That all changed however when the last of the small towns disappeared. The highway once again became a patchwork of rubble, the wind increased and then the sun seemed to forget it was late September as the heat just became intolerable. My thermometer was closing in on 48 degrees in the shade of my handlebar bag and
