Buying snow Pavlodar

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Buying snow Pavlodar

The boundless azure sky stretches above us. The heavy cottonwool of snow-white clouds lies on the rocky mountain slopes with spots of shadow. And the mountains are like a stage in a theatre. Lower, greener ones give way to higher ones — the more dangerous and at the same time more beautiful. The colours of the mountainous theatre change like in a kaleidoscope: lush green, precious gold, beautiful brown, sinister black softened by the pureness of white snow, blinding with reflected sun rays. Sometimes the jagged, pointy rocks almost reach our homebulance. They are about to scratch it with sharp teeth when the winding road changes direction at the last moment and leads to safe proximity of the crystal mountain river. We stick to its rapid, foam-spitting current which like a mischievous rascal, pulls washed dishes from our hands and freezes the body during bathing. When exasperated by its tricks, we are about to leave, and it lures again with a flash of emerald water, turned-ruby at sunset. Accustomed to Mongolian guests, we are no longer surprised by shepherds on horseback who appear at our windows again and again. Sometimes, their excuse is a lost herd of horses, sometimes they give up pretexts and follow the pure human curiosity that the savoir-vivre of civilization has not yet destroyed. From time to time, a herd of cows shows up for a snack made of apple and banana peels. Later the skittish goats appear, which cannot be bribed with any tasty treat. Finally, dusk comes, and stray dogs with it. We use the full length of the day visa and drive lazily from place to place. Two weeks later, however, the engine ominously begins to sweat with oil. With each passing hour, the black spots under the homebulance are growing bigger. Somehow, we manage to get to the mechanic in a little town of Biysk, where we hear a dreadful sentence. The full engine has to be rebuilt. Biysk becomes our home for almost two weeks. We already know the route from the hostel to the mechanic by heart. Every time the stall owners ask how is the homebulance doing and with the wishes of all the best, they add some free cucumber or other cauliflower. When we finally pick up the car, it purrs like a happy kitten. We would also purr, were it not for the fact that we only have two days left on our visa and three hundred kilometres to the Russia-Kazakhstan border. On top of that, the mechanics advise checking the injectors. They could not do it as they do not have proper tools. If the car breaks down during these two days, we will be illegally in Russia. I have to call the manager. The manager appears. Tall, slim, dark-eyed, dark-haired. A heartthrob in black leather. We have time. In the office corridor, we wait patiently, glued to plastic chairs. Fatigue, hunger and the whole situation puts us in a mood of merry hysteria. The man, time and again, emerges from the office with assurances about the phone calls being made. Finally, the manager asks Andrzej to the office. I stay in the corridor. Minutes stretch on forever, and I start to worry. After an hour, both gentlemen leave the office laughing. He is the head of this border crossing, but now we are waiting for his manager. He knows. But the tournament ended in July, and now it is September. A short, stocky and impressively bald man with intelligent eyes sharply glancing from the smiling face. Andrzej again disappears in the office. After two hours, three laughing men reappear in the corridor. In the end, the visa is only a stamp in the passport. They just wanted to chat. On the Kazakh side, we leave the camper in a not too long queue of cars and head to passports control. Let me know once you reach Pavlodar. In fact, we would be grateful for a mechanic recommendation. We have to replace injectors. Just let me know once you get to the city. Oh, and if the police stop you, just say you know me. Visas to Russia are taken care of. Everything in just one day. What else will happen? My meditations are interrupted by the customs officer checking the car. Andrzej opens the trunk. The officer looks with an utter horror at all the boxes piled up in the garage. Do you have any? Of course not! You can go. After an express inspection of the vehicle, we reach the last customs officer at the entrance to Kazakhstan. In Pavlodar, just before the city limits, we pull over to a muddy square with a town of garages. The left side of the square opens up to a courtyard filled with all sort of cars. Some of them stand on bare rims, lame without wheels, blind with missing headlights and blinkers. Others, with a yawn of open hoods, queue in front of three huge gates of a workshop, where mechanics run around in busy yet controlled chaos. Noticing us, two men in grey overalls break out of the bustle and hurry to find out why the ambulance has arrived in their yard. We need to order the shock absorber from Astana. We are closing soon. The parts — we will be able to order them only on Monday. Somewhere nearby? We can sleep in the car. The following days result in ordered spare parts, fixed injectors, repair of a few minor defects, the existence of which we had no idea about and a complete adoption by the mechanics. I have to show it to my wife! She will not believe it! Soon, he knows our past and future route better than we do ourselves. Sasha, with unruly strands of hair falling from under the baseball hat, fixes all the car electrics and brings us bags of tomatoes. Because we have to eat something, and Kazakh tomatoes are the best! An owner of one of the cars treated by the guys — a chubby, smiley chap — gives us half a sack of potatoes because they are just like tomatoes — Kazakh! The best! A bearded night guard invites us for tea. Over an earl grey and cookies, he shows photos from family trips. Shares his anthropological and philosophical observations, even touching on dinosaurs. Talks about how it was affordable to buy a plane ticket for a scholarship during Soviet times and how it all changed now. He talks about his motorcycle accident and tells us to watch out for Ginger as he may bite. And Ginger, a shaggy, old dog chained at the workshop entrance, ignores us on a par with other workshop-mates. The night before departure, there is a knock at our door. The bearded night guard enters the camper. His tall, wide-shouldered posture barely fits in the car. Winter is coming. We can hardly fall asleep. The morning is even worse. We say our goodbyes. Amongst the pats on the back and wishes of a wide, safe road, we are preparing to leave. Ginger barks like he got possessed. He will miss us too — especially his fish-flavoured cat food feeding sessions. All the best on your journey. I have your Instagram and will follow you for sure! In the details of the new account, there is no photo or any information. Almost a week has passed since we set our camp in Bayankhongor. Each day here brings new surprising events and most Autumn gilded Bishkek. Golden leaves fall from trees. Golden yarn of sunrays envelops streets, buildings and Your email address will not be published. Journey , Kazakhstan. Jan 11, 0 0. From Mongolia, we drive directly onto the Chuysky Trakt. Were it not for the fact that smooth asphalt stretches under our wheels, and the landscape would not indicate that we have already entered Russia. Previous Chapter 9 - Ulgii, Mongolia. Next Chapter 11 - Almaty, Kazakhstan. Nov 30, Chapter 8 — Khovd, Mongolia Almost a week has passed since we set our camp in Bayankhongor. Leave A Comment Cancel reply Your email address will not be published. Instagram post Follow on Instagram.

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Buying snow Pavlodar

Not the location you were looking for? Other matching results or Interactive Map Search. Based on annual weather averages for Pavlodar, the best month to go for holiday is January and February. In October, Pavlodar gets on an average Apart from annual averages, the data is also available in hourly interval in CSV format. Following weather fields are provided in CSV format. Our users are allowed to export our yearly average charts on this page as png, jpg, pdf or SVG vector image to display on website or for personal and research use. We require proper credit to be provided to us when using our charts. It should be in format of a link to our website. Looking to integrate weather data in your website or app? Pavlodar Pavlodar, KZ Not the location you were looking for? Pavlodar, Kazakhstan Weather Averages Based on annual weather averages for Pavlodar, the best month to go for holiday is January and February. Yearly Max, Min and Average Temperature. Loading weather chart Yearly Rainfall and Rain Days Averages. Yearly Snowfall and Snow Days Averages. Annual Pressure Averages. Annual Cloud and Humidity Averages. Annual UV Index Averages. Annual Visibility Averages. Where to next? Nearest Airport Pavlodar Airport.

Buying snow Pavlodar