DUSHARIN:
For six hours we walked along a flat road. It was an unusual feeling.
We would rather have the mountains. The caravan looked like a long chain
of camels walking so slowly. Soon we discovered that we were losing some
freight. We had not packed our things properly. One of our guys had to
go behind the caravan picking things up. We maintained the communication
with him by walkie talkie.
Finally we reached Mazardara. It was neither a town nor a settlement.
It was a cozy green meadow in a narrow gorge where two rivers merge together.
Our forward progress was annoyingly slow, we had more time available to
rest than we usually did. In the evening, we gathered by the fire and cooked
the left-over ram bones. The soup was wonderful. |
Bridge on the way to Mazardara
Gnawing round sheep's bones
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