Early 2000s, after teaching for a year in Japan I decided to take the slow route to Europe via China and the silk road. I did this alone.
The worst experience has to be when I took an overnight bus from Almaty, Kazakhstan to the border of Uzbekistan. I'd been travelling 3 months in China before Kz - perfectly safe in China - had not a single bad experience - no doubt watched whereever I went. Planned to do a full 3 more months through the Stans, until the weather was too cold, but ended up with a shortened 5 day visa for Kz due to the fact that I didn't have a certificate from a doctor saying I was free of AIDS. Dicks.
Anyway, I got to Almaty eventually - fell asleep in the hotel watching Baywatch in Russian on the TV and woke up to bread and cheese for breakfast the first time in over a year. It was October - coldish days, but Almaty like a grand European city with the trees turning burnt gold and red had a charm to it.
Within 2 days I was pickpocketed twice, and needed to move on thanks to my visa. The women at the Uzbek embassy were nice, and I got a 30 day visa. Decided to make my way to the border with a day to spare and see what the Uzbeks were like.
In hindsight, it was a stupid decision, one never to make again. I took an overnight bus to the border. As soon as we left the station, the bus stopped to let on about 30 more passengers who proceeded to clog the isles. Ok, whatever I thought, shit happens in this part of the world. A few hours go by. Its around 2am, I wake from that groggy half sleep as the bus stops. We are in the middle of nowhere at a checkpoint. Soldiers. AK47s. Ridiculous soviet style military hats. The soldiers order all the standing passengers off the bus. I can't understand a word. Then order everyone off the bus. I understand that at least.
As I leave the bus a fat Russian in white matching tracksuit picks my pocket for the bus ticket. I don't realise until I am off the bus - and thats the only way back on.
Fuck.
It suddenly dawns on me the trouble I am in. Where am I? Who are these soldiers? And then, like a sickening drop in my stomach - I haven't told anyone what I am doing. No one has a clue where I am. It would be days before my family would start looking.
Ulp.
A nice woman sees the distress on my face - and says to me "ticket, yes?", pointing to hers.
Ticket. Yes.
I walk up to the fat Russian and just start yelling. Give me my fucking ticket you mother fucker. Over and over. Making a scene. The soldiers look over. Everyone looks over.
To my great surprise, he hands it over. All eyes on him.
Drunk with relief I stumble on the bus, and sit right behind the driver, eye wide with paranoia. Its now 4am and a false dawn starts to illuminate the featureless plains around the road. Elvis love me tender plays on the radio.
And thats how I made it to Uzbekistan.