Through the Horizons. Part 1. Escape - страница 9

We woke up half an hour later than planned, and when we arrived at the Centralized Service Center (CSC), there was already a queue of more than 150 people standing outside in the cold. As it turned out, there was another queue inside the building, accommodating an equal number of people as the one outside. After 15 minutes, a notebook reached us with over three hundred names of people who were ahead of us in the queue, and they implemented this system. The queue was moving very slowly, and after about half an hour, a man came out of the building to whom you could ask your question.

A crowd of people gathered around him, and as far as possible, they took turns asking their questions. After 15 minutes, we managed to ask our question and received a not-so-optimistic answer. The task we were waiting for would take at least three more days, which neither Artem nor I had the time for.

Artem is leaving tomorrow, and I'm heading towards Zhitikara the day after, where my hitchhiker friends Masha and Andrey live, whom I mentioned yesterday.

I've already started thinking about where I'll go after Kazakhstan and in which country I can stay the longest and find a job in the restaurant business.

I remembered my first visit to Goa, India in 2019. It was a wonderful nine days, although I injured my foot in the middle of the vacation, and it only worsened by the end of it. Upon returning home, I had to undergo surgery due to an infection in my foot. However, this situation didn't spoil my impression of India; instead, it ignited a desire to visit remote and non-touristy places in the country.

In the evenings, I read information about the countries in Southeast Asia, the climate, ticket prices, and accommodation. After deciding to choose India, I started filling out the application for a five-year visa. After a couple of hours of leisurely completion, I finally managed to independently finish filling out the application and proceeded to make the payment. I couldn't pay the fee with my Russian bank cards, and I hadn't obtained a Kazakhstani one yet. I had to postpone this endeavor for more favorable times.

Artem left in the morning, and my day was dedicated to planning how I would get to Zhitikara. There were no bus tickets available, and the train wasn't suitable either because it goes through Russian territory, where border guards inspect documents. In the Telegram chats, there were already reports of cases where people were removed from the train. I didn't want to take any risks, so the only option left was to find a car through Telegram channels heading in the direction I needed.

The whole day was spent searching for a car because everyone was traveling to Almaty and didn't want to take passengers halfway. The price for such a service was astronomical, of course. However, I managed to find a car for tomorrow to the city of Aktobe, which was 470 km away from Uralsk, for one and a half thousand rubles. It was the best price available at that time and in the direction I needed, from where I could try to find a bus to Zhitikara. So, I didn't waste any time and started packing my things in the evening, making sure not to forget anything.

Morning came, and I was ready for the next stage of my journey. By 10 o'clock in the morning, the car arrived, I said goodbye to Dasha, and set off on my way to a new city called Aktobe. While I was in the car, I had time to search for accommodation. I didn't know where I would stay or if I would find anything for the night because even a week after the announcement of partial mobilization, there was utter chaos in the chats, and housing prices remained astronomical. After a few hours of unsuccessful searching for accommodation, I finally received a long-awaited message from some guy.