In the morning, we kept to our plan of total relaxation, enjoying the river, and didn't set off until midday. With our batteries fully recharged, we headed out ready to take on the city of Aktobe. The first stop was purely logistical in a residential neighbourhood. Dad Edu spotted a public tap on the street that looked like it belonged to the last century, one of those old-fashioned ones where you imagine you have to pump a lever. However, here you just had to push the lever down and the water shot out with tremendous force. Apparently, this mains water isn't fit for drinking (for that, we’re still using our five-litre supermarket bottles), but it’s perfect for cooking, washing the dishes, and having a good shower.

With the tank full, we headed to the car park of the Keruen City Mall, strategically located next to the St. Nicholas Orthodox Church. We left our trusty vehicle there and began exploring on foot. The first thing we saw was the exterior of the church: a beautiful structure with those typical onion domes that shone so brightly in the sun they almost made me squint.

From there, we walked through Nur-Astan Park, a huge green space that is very peaceful and incredibly well-kept. The funny thing about this park is that the locals affectionately call it "Nuressic Park", a brilliant play on words mixing the park's original name with the legendary dinosaur film. Walking on, we reached the Concert Hall (the Palace of Arts), a building with purely Soviet architecture—colossal and with straight lines—which is quite imposing. Right opposite stands the Nurgasyr Regional Central Mosque, an imposing work of white marble and a golden dome. The most beautiful thing about this complex is its symbolism: both the mosque and the Orthodox church we saw at the beginning were inaugurated on the exact same day in 2008 as a monument to peace and coexistence between the country's two main religions. They are connected by a large pedestrian walkway.

We then crossed through the area of the Shanyrak Memorial, a lovely monument representing the circular structure of the roof of traditional Kazakh yurts, which is the symbol of home and family. Just as Dad Edu was taking a photo of the monument, we heard a shout of "Hallo, hallo!" behind us. You won't believe it! It was Diana and Stefan, the Austrian biker couple we met at the Russian border. They had seen our camper parked at the mall and, by pure coincidence, we bumped into each other right there. We chatted for a good while, sharing tales from the last few kilometres, before saying goodbye and heading back to the car park.

Dad Edu left me to rest for a while in the camper and went into the mall. He treated himself to a pizza on the top floor and then went down to the Anvar supermarket (the sign reads АНВАР in Cyrillic) to do the shopping. Success at last! He came out of the door with a bag of food for me and a packet of treats. I was already salivating just thinking about it.

Back on the road, we drove through the Abay Boulevard area. That is the heart of the Soviet legacy: gigantic avenues flanked by massive blocks of buildings and, presiding over the place, the imposing equestrian statue of Abul Khair Khan, who turned out to be an important Kazakh military leader and ruler of the eighteenth century who unified the tribes of the region.

We left the city heading east. Although we passed very close to our idyllic spot from the night before, we decided to keep moving. We drove about a hundred kilometres through a clearly mining area and left Khromtau behind, a city famous for its chromium mines. Finally, we have found a lovely place to spend the night next to a small stream, near a village called Don. The spot is perfect, although at first Dad Edu got a bit spooked because we are right next to a huge cemetery—one of those that looks like a miniature city. In the end, he got over his silly fears and here we are staying to have dinner and sleep.

By the way, the drama of the day: Dad Edu let me try the new treats he worked so hard to get at the supermarket... and they are disgusting! They have less flavour than a piece of cardboard. I find them a thousand times worse than my own food, so he’s going to have to eat them himself. See you tomorrow, friends!