We enjoyed a day of rest in the city and made our camp in a local bakery shop, where a chocolate cake caught our eye which we gifted to Oli to celebrate his second birthday of the year. We took turns exploring the bazaar, making our way through the maze of crannies, the way one would
steer the yellow smiley of Pacman through the game. We bought a bunch of souvenirs to remember this parcticularly strange country when a genious idea appeared at the surface of our minds: why not make our own souvenir, like we did with the rings in Mashhad? We all chose our own fabric, typical Turkmen, and went to the seamstress to explain our plain. They perfectly understood we wanted to make our own fancy T-shirts to blend in Turkmenistans colorful croud.
The women here wear beautiful dresses in all imaginable colours, matching the special color of their eyes. Men dress less extravagant and stick to the grey golf cap. We got both now, and we feel at home. On our way towards the border, we bumped into two cycling kids, who were trying to keep up with us. We joked around and asked them to bring us to a restaurant, which they happily did. They declined our offer to come and eat with us, but one of them returned after to bring us to his home. Her his mum was waiting for us and she invited us in, and showed us where we could sleep this night. In return we gifted our last box of cigarets and entertained her two kids for the evening with only two games. Game one: try to hit the youngest kid with a tiny soft ball. Game two. Four in a row with the little brother. But not the regular game, this game had its own rules. The goal is to fill each row as fast as possible, and the one who gets to put his colour of disc in the top of a row wins. Everything else is open to interpretation, but only the little kid's interpretation of course, he makes the rules.