After the last attempt of the tie rod repair failed, the mechanic is now back with the symbiosis of Lada and Volkswagen and the new tie rod end makes the overall impression, as though we would do it with him to Bishkek. As the mechanic invites us to breakfast, I can not help but agree, after all, came yesterday Noodledude not enjoy the paradise village and even a heavenly daughter of the mechanic. This would I did not withhold. But unfortunately, long faces with us, the village is still heavenly, but the father has been his daughter well hidden. So we make our way deeper into the Pamir Mountains. It follows, again and again, especially to me, interesting views of some alluvial fans in Afghanistan. 
What is much more interesting, which is available on these alluvial fans villages. Somehow seem to create it during heavy rain events the water to drain ... controlled-As I said, especially for me geographers these views are particularly interesting, while ND is interested in more for the people on the other side. Of course, bear all women burqa and much more you can not really recognize. Therefore, the Pyandzh River (the Grendzfluss) always wild and Tajik villages always groomed. 
We approach Khorog. Once there, we meet again some Mongol Rally kids and buy a loaf of bread, cigarettes and a disgusting cream cheese. Thus equipped, we are launching directly toward Murgab dickrot on the map drawn in our street. We decided against the thin yellow Iskhasim way to continue along the Afghan border. A couple of bridges since the last flood should no longer exist and we do not have much time, if we want to sell the car at rest in Bishkek. About a kilometer we get out of Khorog, then police check. After 10 minutes, it is clear that the allegedly missing permission on our Pamir permit in the passport for this street, so we only half-destroyed and take at least a day longer road to the south may not. The Noodledude tried it on the pity trip. Our auto-creates the southern route is not, we at the Tajik Embassy in Berlin sought precisely this line ... - Already the price of the lubricant passage at 50 Somoni per person ~ $ 10. As if any Tajik against us ever would have shown such a thing as empathy. So on the other tour. Lucky we have the number in the rating of Foreign Affairs written. We ask whether the officer could call home and can check with him. Of course not, then his source of income would be gone. It would also fly up that he would be bribed. So I get to his surprise, my phone locked without power from his pocket thumb, wildly around with it and go out ostensibly to call the Foreign Ministry in Dushanbe. Immediately the price goes down to 10 Somoni pp ~ $ 2. Half angry, half amused, we left the field in the direction of prohibited street. It moves quickly and just before dark we are just before the first pass, with 4300m quite high. Previously, we overtake a cyclist. 2 km before the pass flashes Cooler display of the bus. Routinely, we lose water from Berlin, I jump with a water bottle out of the car and make the hood. It stinks terribly from cooling water and evaporated. 
ND probably had not paid attention to the cooling water temperature. Stupid enough, I try to be as normal to release the excess pressure from the system. Radiator cap screwed on carefully and then he flies exploded with my hand in the air, where both the radiator cap and prior to my hand with full force from below slap against the hood. I jump back and the entire cooling water carves its way out. A green Fountain injected at least 10 seconds from the engine compartment to the top. Then silence. My hand is pulsating and bleeding, my arm and my right face is scalded. 
For the pain and for cooling I wrap one arm in a water-soaked towel, we wait a while, talk to the cyclist, we had previously overhauled - from Richard New Zealand - cool the car, and tilt back water into the cooling system . The bus starts and you get 1.5 km to just before the pass then the bus has lost another 5 liters of water. 
We realize that our problem is probably not a trivial matter, but at least the pass, we want to provide to us at the other side to roll into the next village. Nope, on the other side of the pass is a high level ... So we create 10Liter 5Kilometer water and are eventually exhausted lie in nothing. While perceived in ND - 10Grad still trying to get drinking water from a stream, I take the same pain medication to fall asleep quickly despite the burns.
Next day:
We try to encourage people who dragged us into the next village. Either they want to astronomical sums of $ 150 (after a long negotiation) for 40km ... Or their cars will remain the same directly next to us (as happened twice). 
Since only an estimated 10-12 cars and a couple of Chinese trucks pass by on the day (both directions combined), are our chances of being towed is not really good. The only bright spot is Richard, who is again cycled past with his bike. 
Finally, we create it but to be dragged to the next on a map drawn in the village. What is even more marked on the map as a village, stood at close out as disappointment: A Kyrgyz family lives there all alone in poverty and is battling with the merciless cold. 
At least they are the first that we encounter fairly friendly and not immediately try to withdraw but even invite for tea. The grandfather was once a truck driver and would like to look at the motor times. The cylinder head cover is removed quickly, just as many tubes, but already opens up the first obstacle. It is missing the right tool for cylinder head bolts. I need to find a bit annoyed that I would also have come so far and everything has to be assembled again by me with a screw less (lost) must. After all, the realization that without a mechanic or blacksmith who has a Torx key or can not produce, continues. With this knowledge, it's off in the sleeping bag. (About the only thing that is hot on the plateau.)
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