Everyone was hot. Everyone was tired. Our feet hurt. We’d walked close to 20 miles that day. From Aktau, our starting point in Kazakhstan, it was more like 350 miles. We were trying to reach the empty highway rocketing to Beyneu.
What was Beyneu?
A speck on the map. A railroad town. The only civilization for thousands of square miles around. An iota of aging Soviet concrete and steel swallowed in the heat waves of Central Asia, an outpost lost in the steppes. Beyneu Beyneu Beyneu. We dreamed of the pleasures waiting there. It was our Xanadu.