Fukrat will also go to Bishkek. However, he won’t leave until 3:00 p.m. We met for breakfast so he could give me back the money the police took from me the night before. Ulan received it and sent it to him this morning. While waiting for him to arrive, I took the opportunity to fill the tank and pour 1 L of oil right in front of the restaurant. Lately, the red light (Fi) has come on quite often. The motorcycle may have consumed some of it since I have ridden more than 5000 km since the last oil change.

I left around 10:00 in the morning thinking about arriving in Kyrgyzstan early enough to have some time to rest before the party began. Unfortunately, I must not have understood Fukrat’s instructions well and ended up reaching a cut section that he told me to avoid. I had to turn around and go through the city again because there was no other way.

It took me more than half an hour to reach the other side.

The first sixty kilometers were horrible. Plus, I got caught in the rain. There are potholes everywhere and the asphalt is completely undulating. In some sections, the fastest I could drive was 40 km/h. Once those kilometers had passed, the asphalt changed and its quality increased a lot. I could then regain a reasonable cruising speed.

It was almost 12:30 when I arrived in Korday to refuel before continuing towards the border. Following Margaux’s advice, I asked the first guard if I could go ahead in line and ended up jumping the entire line. I had to open all of my bags and suitcases on both control points, although, on the Kyrgyz side, they didn’t even look at them.

It took just under 30 minutes to cross both borders, which was a record time.

There are no more stops today but the hostel where Margaux is staying. There is, however, one thing I should pay attention to. Just after leaving the border, there is a stop sign where she told me she was detained a few days ago. So, both at the barrier and the stop sign, I tried to stay still until the officers gave me the go-ahead to continue. I was not willing to have a problem with the police again.

The truth is that it is a sign that is not normally found at borders and foreigners tend to skip it easily. It is a stop sign that is located just before a checkpoint and you are fined if you miss it. I arrived at the hostel around 1:30 p.m., where I was greeted by the charming owner. After dropping off my things, I took a quick shower and headed out to meet Margaux. I arrive at the bar around 3:00 p.m. when they are still preparing some of the motorcycles that are going to participate in the parade.

While waiting, Margaux received a call from Lucas.

The poor guy has been on the Russian border with Estonia for seven hours with his passport stamped and confiscated. Margaux contacts the French embassy to see if she can force them to clarify what the problem is. For the time being, the isn’t an explanation and the embassy isn’t helping much. The parade is about to begin and we prepare ourselves. Sadly, when it starts Margaux has problems with the injection and her motorcycle doesn’t start. Finally, it did just before we were left behind and we ended up staying at the back of the line. Luckily, it’s not raining now.

The parade took us all around the city. Once it finished, we returned to the bar and parked right behind another motorcycle with a Spanish license plate. We were both surprised.

Was there another traveler we hadn’t seen?

After a little research, it turned out that the motorcycle was owned by a Uzbek who traveled to Spain, bought it, and rode it to Bishkek. He has a motorcycle rental company in the city and got it to enlarge his services offer. We returned to the hostel to leave the motorcycles and contacted Lucas again. The sad news is he is not the only one in this situation since other people have been stranded there for two days and are not given water, food, or answers.

We take a taxi and go back to the party. People were already choosing their tables when we arrived. After greeting some old acquaintances from Margaux, we sat close to the stage and ordered something to eat. During the evening, we participated in a series of games the organization proposed. Some of them were: guess the movie, guess the brand of motorcycle, guess what you have under your ass, pass the rope between your clothes, or pass the orange from one to another without using your hands.

We were also asked for a short speech like the rest of the participating clubs.

During the party, we met Volodya, a photographer who invited us to do a photo shoot the next day, and Peter, a German who lives in Almaty and who has invited me to stay at his house whenever I stop by. A woman who sings different types of songs, provided us with music until midnight, before giving way to a band.

I was surprised by the quality of the group and how varied their repertoire was: Bon Jovi, Shakira, etc. Around 12:30 pm, during the band’s break, we took a taxi back to the hostel. Just before leaving the bar, Margaux manages to talk to Lucas again. After eleven hours, including a thirty-minute interrogation, he finally left the Russian side and crossed over to Estonia, having access to groceries and being able to use the credit card again.