The guards are allowed to cut your tongue out without having to give any reason whatsoever. If they see it as justified and write a report on it too, then they can rape and/or execute any selected person on the spot. The victims of rape are not exclusively women, nor necessarily young. Such atrocities are apparently random; one doesn’t need to perpetrate any crime or break any law to be a victim. This is an unavoidable risk tourists face when arriving in the country: the cost of entry includes the possibility of pain, humiliation, and bloodshed. This is a decision everyone must make before embarking on the journey, and if he or she is chosen to be a victim, they have to respect the local laws, even if they don’t seem to make sense.

Fortunately, no insult of any kind took place that night. The border guard stamped my passport between two yawns and let me pass. I went through the nothing-to-declare corridor, through a series of automatic doors, and finally arrived at the parking lot where our transportation awaited us, a Volkswagen minibus.

I took a deep breath of the fresh, cold air. I was surprised to notice that the German pensioners joined us as well. I made a gesture towards them, but they chose to not recognize me.

The hotel

The journey was, again, uneventful. When we arrived in the town it was pitch-black night. It’s always raining there. Sometimes just a drizzle, often a downpour, so it’s wise to pack waterproof jackets and boots. We quickly took refuge against the weather in the hotel lobby. The keys had been laid out on the counter of the concierge’s booth, like so many soldiers lying face down in the mud. We each grabbed one without a word and headed for our rooms. The corridors were quite narrow, the bumpy, cracking floor insidiously making you lose your balance.

Every single part of the hotel is made of wood. Yet I have seen no fire extinguishers. Those with a great fear of hotel fires should take this into consideration. On the other hand the hotel building is said to be about two hundred years old. Why shouldn’t it last another two hundred years without a fire, especially in this moist air?

A musty smell filled my room. My window looked down on the city from the third floor; still, it felt like being in a cellar. The rooms do not include private bathrooms; the toilet and a line of open shower cabins can be found at the end of the corridor. It’s all unisex. Those concerned about this aspect of comfort should take this into account before the trip.