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Kathmandu / Langtang Trek and Dog Rescue – 13th to 30th Sept

Wednesday 13th September

Thamel Kathmandu

After a glorious night’s sleep we have a nice breakfast on our hotel’s roof terrace.  The walk up 6 flights sure gives us an appetite!

Today we need to unpack all our luggage and put the trikes back together.   There’s a narrow street outside the hotel and with mopeds, pedestrians and the odd car passing by we set to it.  We quickly draw a crowd of interested watchers.

After about 3 hours work we finally have both trikes together and give them a quick test ride up and down the street.  A couple of our more dedicated audience members also have a go – a reward for wasting 3 hours watching trike reconstruction at its best.

Time to get washed up and head out for food and a spot of sightseeing.

Kathmandu is the vibrant capital city of Nepal, where modern internet cafes and organic restaurants are nestled between medieval palaces and temples. Originally split into 3 separate city-states – Kathmandu, Lalitpur and Bhaktapur – the modern amalgamated city is home to 7 UNESCO world heritage sites such as Patan Durbar Square, Swayambhunath Stupa and Pashupatinath Temple. The pace of life in Kathmandu is fast by Nepali standards, with bustling narrow streets filled with rickshaws swerving around tiny shrines and ancient courtyards. It takes a little getting used to the culture shock when you get off the plane, but once you’re settled in it’s a hugely rewarding location in which to be fully immersed in modern Nepali life.

We enjoy a Nepali Thali curry and wander down the packed streets to Basantapur Durbar Square.  The square is one of the most charming architectural showpieces of the Kathmandu Valley as it highlights the ancient arts of Nepal. The golden effigies of kings perched on the top of stone monoliths, the guardian deities looking out from their sanctuaries, the wood carvings in every place-struts, lintels, uprights, tympanums, gateways and windows-all seem to form a well-orchestrated symphony. Pottery and weaving are its major traditional industries.  

We are agog at the beautiful temples and shrines, but feel very sad about the severe earthquake damage (2015) which is still widely evident.  Then feeling tired after a hard day we soon drag ourselves home.

 

Thursday 14th September

Thamel Kathmandu

Today Daz has an appointment with the passport office to apply for a new passport and we also need to drop our trikes off at the British Army camp in Patan district.  We need somewhere secure to store them whilst we do our workaway and trekking.  A friend of a friend who is posted here in Nepal has kindly agreed to look after them for us. After that we also want to visit our workaway hosts to say hi and sort out when we need to start.

We’re about to enjoy our first experience of cycling in Nepal.  We head out through the narrow streets of Thamel packed with pedestrians and mopeds before joining one of the ringroads. The traffic is very heavy but flows safely around us.  At one point we stop to watch the Nepali Army parading around a large field in the city centre.  It looks like a practice Parade for an upcoming event.  

We cycle on and manage to get to the passport office unscathed.  Whilst I enjoy a nice coffee Daz goes off for his appointment.  He is back pretty soon and no problems. It all went very smoothly and he should have a new passport in 6 weeks time. The Army camp is not too far and we meet up with Mark who stores our bikes and kit and shows us around the camp.  We agree to meet for a beer later in the week.  Now trikeless we grab a local taxi and negotiate a price to the Animal Shelter we will be volunteering at.  It’s about 4 km south of Kathmandu in a quiet suburb and down a rocky dirt road!  We meet some of the staff and another 2 volunteers,  Alex and Vivi from Germany.  There are about 120 dogs in the compound, most of them loose and running around. Or they were until we arrived, now they are saying hello… loudly and boisterously!! Fortunately the noise soon dies down and we sort out the work arrangements.  Our first shift is tomorrow and we will move into the accommodation tomorrow as well.

We return to Thamel and relax for the remainder of the day!

 

Friday 15th September

Baisephati Kathmandu

After a relaxing morning of sightseeing and a breakfast at the Big Belly Restaurant we leave our hotel and get a taxi to the Animal Shelter.

We have allowed an hour for the 11 km journey but only make it with 1 minute to spare for our shift!! The traffic, and the taxi drivers route choice conspire to nearly make us late.  We dump our bags in the office and are shown around the complex.  Our main tasks will be cleaning up after the dogs, feeding them, cleaning the compound and any other odd jobs that might spring up.

Sneha Care is one of the largest animal welfare charities in Nepal. Established in 2014 by animal advocate Ms Sneha Shrestha to protect the street and community dogs from torture, cruelty or ill usage of any kind, it have long campaigned to develop the welfare of man’s best friend.  There are dogs here that are awaiting operations or are recovering from them. One kennel houses those dogs with skin complaints and another the paralysed dogs.  Other individual kennels house recently recovering dogs.  The rest of the dogs, from puppies to big alsatians are free to roam around. We spend our shift getting to know the routine and the dogs.  The heat and humidity is fierce and we haven’t sweated so much since the desert of Kazakhstan,  but at least there it was a dry heat.  The worst job is cleaning up in the paralysed dog kennel.  All the dogs have use of their front legs, but either drag their rears or balance on their front paws and totter around.

Unfortunately this means they invariably drag themselves through their mess after toileting. But we keep on top of it as much as possible to ensure they are clean.  After our shift is over the ambulance driver gives us a lift to the apartment,  saving us a 20 minute walk.  Tomorrow we have the morning shift, 7am to 1pm, so we will need to be up early to walk there in time.

 

Saturday 16th September

Baisephati Kathmandu

Our alarm goes off at 620 am and we walk through the early morning fog down to the shelter.   It sits in a valley with rice field terracing of a vivid green up each side. It’s a pleasant walk to work.  We greet all the local passersby ‘Namaste’ and receive a smile and return greeting.

Today our shift is very busy. All the staff are around, as 2 vets are visiting to carry out some procedures on the dogs, and a cat as well!  Some of the dogs are getting spayed but 2 are having large tumours removed from their flanks.

 There are also a number of visitors to the shelter, we think they are possible donors.  By the end of the shift we are starving.  Fortunately everyday we get a meal cooked for us at the shelter, real local food and it’s delicious.  As well as this meal we also share an evening meal with the local staff that live at the apartment too.

It’s rice and dal bhat again, but just as tasty.  We all sit around chatting and enjoying our meal.  The Nepalese eat with their fingers, mixing the rice and dal bhat with their fingers and scooping mounthfuls. Us and the Germans stick to our forks, not yet ready to divest ourselves of our western ways!!

 

Sunday 17th September

Baisephati Kathmandu

 

The Germans have a day off today, so it’s just us and the locals at the shelter.  We arrive again having enjoyed the walk and set about cleaning up the dogs and kennels.  We bring brew kit with us daily so during the day when we have a moments rest we can enjoy a cup of tea.  It’s quiet today being Sunday but later more staff arrive.  Another volunteer, Noi from Israel, also shows up.  We show him what we know, but we’re new too and often the staff like to contradict each other.  

Sometimes we use the hose to wash out kennels, sometimes we need to scrub them with brushes then mop them dry.  Most of the mops and brushes have seen better days and the hose has more holes and makeshift connections than we have ever seen.  So we always end up wet after a clean down, but it’s not a problem in this heat.  

 

Monday 18th September

Baisephati Kathmandu

After our shift at the shelter and meeting another new volunteer, Forest from Australia,  we catch the local bus into Kathmandu. It only costs 12 pence each.  We are going in to see Patan Durbar Square,  a UNESCO site. It’s 1000 rupee each to enter, but weirdly you can also walk up a side street and get in for free, which we do.

There’s an ancient Malla royal palace with many temples and idols in the area.  There’s alot of scaffolding up as well, helping the buildings stand after the earthquake of 2015.  We pick a restaurant with a rooftop terrace and enjoy a drink and some seriously delicious but spicy food.  

The square is lit up as the sun goes down and it’s a marvellous sight.  Later back at the flat we get everyone playing cards, including the local Nepalese.  Of course Daz wins, as he is the only one who knows all the rules!

 

Tuesday 19th September

Baisephati Kathmandu

Nothing much to report today at the dog shelter, we have the morning shift with Forest (she has a brother called River and a sister called Bhindi… hippy mum!).

There’s a problem with the water in the well so no hosepipe,  which means we have to wash the kennels down with buckets of water drawn from a tap, a slow and monotonous job.  Oh and Hels decides to take some treats into the paralysed dog kennels, but this is a disaster,  a fight ensues and in the melee Hels receives a nasty bite on her forearm.  Fortunately we think she hasn’t got rabies so the dog won’t need a course of vaccinations!!

Seriously the puncture wounds are quite deep. The staff tell us it’s best to leave them uncovered so for the rest of the shift she is dripping blood all over the place.  She’s also in a lot of pain but like the true professional she soldiers on until the end of shift.

 

Wednesday 20th September

Baisephati to Thamel Kathmandu

Our 6th and final day volunteering at the dog shelter.  The dogs have been noisy and boisterous but fun.  Some of the injured dogs with half their faces missing have been hard to stomach.   But the staff at the centre do a fine job rescuing and caring for them.  The accommodation and food has been excellent as have the other volunteers,  even if they are all younger than 23!! One of the dogs passed away and was lieing in the treatment room waiting for us this morning.  Fortunately the shelter staff dealt with it.  Apart from that it was a run of the mill day.  We say goodbye to everyone and head into Thamel via taxi. We hope we get a chance to see Alex, Vivi, Noi and Forest again before they leave Nepal.

Back in Thamel and the Bright Star Hotel we have a little siesta and then it’s time to meet Mads.  Mads is a friend of Nick Marlow and Nick and Daz (and Gary) trekked here together in 2000.  Because Nick wasn’t able to meet us out here he suggested we contact Mads at Himalayan Trails.  We’ve already arranged to take their trek to Manaslu in early October so we’re going to meet for a beer and a chat.  We meet at the Jazz bar.  Mads brings his wife Claire and his son Oscar and a colleague Amanda.  We pick their brains on Nepal and various treks and other activities to do whilst we’re here.  It’s a great evening but once again the beers go down too easily.

 

Thursday 21st September

Kathmandu

Today we’re busy organising ourselves for our trek up the Langtang Valley.  We’re leaving tomorrow and we’re going alone so we need to book our bus ticket, sort permits, get a map and we desperately need a rucksack or 2. After booking our bus ticket we head to Mads’ office.  They need some paperwork for our Manaslu trek but he also goes over the Langtang route recommending several side routes and various teahouses.  He also lends us a rucksack because there’s nowhere to hire them.  Then it’s time to head home and organise our kit.  We had hoped to get all our gear in one rucksack but it’s too heavy so we decide to take one of our Ortlieb panniers with the back harness – who knows how this will turn out.  Then it’s bed time, we need to be up at 0630hrs tomorrow.

 

Friday 22nd September

Kathmandu to Syabru Bensi

We’re up and out the door in good time but our breakfast venue destroys our detailed scheduling.  Bugger.  After 30 minutes of waiting one of the staff arrives with the bread!!  So now we need a taxi.  At the bus station it’s pandemonium.  People, buses and bags everywhere.  It’s festival week and everyone is heading back to their home villages.  It takes us a while to locate our bus and then our kit is thrown up onto the roof.

Since Daz is a giant amongst men (well the teeny tiny Nepalese men) he then passes up a load of other people’s gear.  Safely but not comfortably (the seats are only designed to fit the teeny tiny Nepalese) seated on the bus we await the off.  At 8am we leave and then it takes about 2 hours to get out of Kathmandu, the traffic is horrendous at the best of times but there are several festival marches going on to ensure even more chaos.   We stop for a toilet break and everyone just pees by the bus – nice!  We had expected this trip to take 6-7 hours but it’s 12.5 hours of hot, sweaty, stinky discomfort with the locals puking into bags.  These aren’t discrete airplane sick bags made of white waxed paper but clear plastic bags so other passengers can play ‘guess the meal that’s just been ejected!’.  Curry was very popular which was fortunate because it still smelt like a fairly decent curry once it was out.  Not the usual acrid stench of vomit which often induces sympathetic vomiting.

The roads and traffic were horrendous. There were numerous delays the most memorable of which was a bus that had slipped sideways on the narrow quagmire of the road, causing one rear wheel to slip over the edge.  When we arrived the traffic was already backed up in both directions and we watched in fascination as a truck (after completing a 16 point turn on the narrow road) reversed down and towed the bus to safety.

A JCB had been summoned and did a great job of repairing the road.  We’re literally on the cusp of the end of the monsoon season and these hillside roads that access the interior of Nepal never escape unscathed from the monsoon.  Frequent landslides are not uncommon and after the rains extensive road repairs are required.

Finally we arrived in darkness at Syabru Bensi.  We walked into the nearest guesthouse and after eating a quick dinner it was time for bed.

 

Saturday 23rd September

Syabru Bensi to Riverside Guesthouse, Langtang Valley

We were on a slow simmer this morning and didn’t start walking until 9am. The sun is out as we walk up through the village above a roaring river.  We soon drop down to a suspended footbridge over the river and cross.  It’s warm and humid and the going is distinctly uphill.

The Langtang river cuts deeply into this valley and tumbles down over the rocks and huge boulders,  with never a quiet moment.  We climb all morning, crossing the river occasionally and stopping every hour for a quick break and a drink of water.  We are both sweating heavily, and swap bags on the hour for a respite.  The heavy bag is at least comfortable, but the lighter pannier bag is very uncomfortable due to the design of the carrying attachment. After 3 and a half hours we reach a small hamlet called Bamboo and stop for lunch.

We chat to a group of Americans who had arrived just before us.  They are travelling with a guide and porters… slackers!  Two of their group arrive about 20 minutes later.  We passed them earlier on the trail and they were looking distinctly worn out.  They only have enough time to order and wolf their food down before the whole group is on the move again.  We set out just after them but soon have to pass as the pace is too slow, these young Americans don’t have the pace (even the ex ‘force recon marine’!).

Refreshed after our lunch we push on, the gradient is much steeper now and there are rocky steps along the way to aid passage, not just for the tourists, but the local porters and villagers too. We pass Rimche and see a couple from our guest house last night. They’ve stopped for the day.  We walk on up and through Lama Hotel, a village full of guesthouses (the Americans will be stopping here today), but we carry on. We ignore the guest house proprietors trying to get us to stop.  We are heading for a guesthouse recommended by Mads, away from the madding crowd.  We think about another hour and a halfs walk.  Half way there we are beginning to regret our drive towards this recommended stop.  The light is fading and it’s getting cooler as we’re really tired now and fading fast.

But finally we see the guesthouse ahead snug up against the roaring river.  We dump our bags and share a bucket of hot water (200 rupees or about £1.50) then order food and several cups of milky tea to wash it down.  We will sleep well tonight.   We have walked 14 km and gained 1375 metres, stopping at 2770 m above sea level.  After months of cycling (and absolutely no walking) we’re absolutely cock-a-hoop with our efforts today – we really weren’t sure if we’d manage; there’s a lot to be said for muscle memory (Army combat fitness test anybody?).

 

Sunday 24rd September

Riverside Guesthouse to Mundu, Langtang Valley

Well we slept like the proverbial logs last night, but someone must have been sawing on Daz’s!  We get up at 820am and there are already hikers passing our teahouse.  After a lovely breakfast we pack up and head out just after 9am. The Americans from yesterday are just passing so we walk with them for a while.  They have been up since 630am as their guide wanted an early start… we pity them! We don’t feel too bad after yesterday’s walk and soon leave the group behind.  When we woke this morning we had a great view of the snow-capped mountains ahead of us, resplendent in the early morning sunlight.

It’s another scorcher of a day and after an initial climb through verdant green forest we break out onto some flattish trail.  That’s the last we will see of forest, now we are walking through brush with a few stunted trees.  After a couple of hours walking with some quick water stops we come across a tea house and decide to have lunch.  The menu has certainly improved since we were last in Nepal trekking. Before there would have been 3 or 4 items on the menu; soup, noodles, omelette and noodle soup.  Now there’s pancakes, fried momo, dhal bhat, fried rice, chow mein and lots more.

As we eat the German couple from our guesthouse 2 days ago also stop for lunch and the Americans pass by.  We have deployed our new solar charger over lunch and it’s done a great job.  Hopefully it’ll be robust enough to survive our travels in the future.  In the afternoon, we continue up the valley which has now widened out.  Tall cliffs soar above us on either side. Soon we can see a scar across the landscape ahead.  This is the huge rockslide that destroyed the village of Langtang during the 2015 earthquake when a great slab of cliff sloughed off the mountains above.  It’s very eerie as we cross the scree slope.  A new river runs down part of it and has already cut a gouge into the jumble of rocks.  We constantly see and hear rocks falling and sliding into this new gully.

Once over the scree we come to a memorial stone just before the site of the new village of Langtang.  It’s only been 2 and a half years but the village seems to be back on it’s feet again with several guesthouses offering rooms and food for trekkers.  We push on through and after another short climb pass several long burial mounds edged in engraved stone. We then arrive in Mundu our stop for the day.  It’s still early and we can sit in the sun relaxing as our clothes dry off.  We’ve made good time today, even the old lady who runs the guesthouse says we are fast.

We’ve walked 10km and gained 770 metres of height, stopping at 3540 metres above sea level. A refreshing bucket wash and afternoon snooze await us.

Monday 25th September

Mundu to Kyanjin Gompa and Kyanjin Ri Peak, Langtang Valley

Another good sleep, must be the mountain air, or the walking!  We haven’t got far to go today, only 5km up to Kyanjin Gompa. We will stop here for 3 nights and enjoy some day trips without the big heavy rucksack.  There are a couple of peaks to summit, a glacier to see and a lovely valley walk.  Before we leave our teahouse this morning we chat with the owner about our options. He reckons we can get to Kyanjin quite quickly this morning and then do the smaller peak in the afternoon.  So that’s the plan.  It’s actually an easy walk up to Kyanjin Gompa and we pass a beautiful temple on the way where we get given free tea and biscuits.  

Once in the village we hunt out Everest Teahouse. This has been recommended by Mads in Kathmandu.  Well he’s done us proud.  It’s a beautiful little teahouse only 4 rooms, and for the first time with ensuite toilet and shower!  The young couple running it are very nice and give us a discount on the rooms too.  We dump our gear and order a fried apple momo and some apple pie with coffee (we couldn’t tell the difference!)  before setting off for our first peak.  We set off and immediately it’s a steep ascent, zigzagging up the hill.  There are occasional steps but alot of it is loose dirt and gravel.  It’s hard going.

 We puff and pant.  We are nearing Little Kyanjin Ri and it gets quite rocky at the top.  This is a false summit, as the true summit is across a saddle and up another steep ascent. Having taken some photos at Little Ri we carry on. We pass a young guy sat in the shelter of some rocks.  His friend has gone on but he either can’t make it or doesn’t like the look of the knife edge ridge to the true summit! We also don’t like the look of it especially with the brisk wind but we push on.  It’s even steeper and possibly more slippery (remember we’ve got no hiking gear, we are climbing in crocs!!) but we finally make it to the top.

 The views of the mountains and the nearby glacier are breathtaking,  if we had any left! We have a quick picnic of biscuits and bombay trail mix whilst enjoying the views.  Fortunately we have noticed a trail leading off the back edge that leads down to a saddle and to a gentler slope back down the mountain.  It’s still hard going.  Descending is painful on our knees and the occasional slip doesn’t help, but it’s an easier way down… just!  

Finally we reach the bottom, some yaks greet us, huge beasts with ginormous horns. Luckily they let us pass and we step down into the village and back to our teahouse.   It’s been a grueling walk but we are glad we did it.  The snow capped mountains, glaciers and clouds whizzing passed below us were magnificent.  We’ve walked 5km to the village gaining 316 metres stopping at 3870 metres above sea level.  We also climbed 4.5 km to Little Kyanjin Ri (4300m) and Kyanjin Ri (4604m).  Time for our first hot shower of the trek and a well deserved snooze.

 

Tuesday 26th September

Kyanjin Gompa to Tserko Ri, Langtang Valley

We’re a bit concerned this morning after listening to the guide chatting to a German group staying at our teahouse.  We knew this was the festival period but we’d heard it would only affect the bus service from Syabru Bensi on 28th September but the guide said it was actually the 30th September,  the day we planned to return to Kathmandu.   We don’t have any internet or phone coverage so we can’t ring anyone to check.  We ask our host, Nawang,  if he can find out if the buses are running 28th, 29th and 30th.  We might need a new plan! Today we’re heading up the large peak of Tserko Ri.  Apparently the views from the top are stunning. A panorama of snow capped peaks.   It’s the toughest day yet.  It takes us 3 hours 50 to reach the summit at 4985m.

It was so tough I was tempted to quit. Towards the end we have to stop frequently to catch our breath.  Both of us feel dizzy at times.  We haven’t seen a soul since we left the village so I feel rather isolated and worried should something happen.  Still panting hard we finally reach the summit and find 2 other groups there already.   A single guy with a guide and a couple with a guide.  The couple left the village at 0630hrs, 2 hours before us!!! We sit and admire the incredible views and have some biscuits and bombay mix.

I have packed lunch envy – the couple have sandwiches,  boiled eggs and a flask.  I know this because I sat right next to them staring and drooling.   After a relatively short break (no point hanging around without more food) we head back down.  I think we’ve timed it perfectly because there’s cloud blowing in over the peak.

The descent is tortuous with numerous slips and falls but we make good time.  We’ve refined the ‘chicken run’ taught to us by our Via Ferrata guide in Rhonda, Spain.  He taught us the safest way to descend was with wide, bent legs and arms out as if trying to catch a chicken.  It actually works incredibly well for us on these slippery tracks in crocs but we must look bizarre!!! We make it back to the village safely.  It took us 6 hours to walk the 9.2km in total, with a height gain of 1103m and a maximum altitude of 4985m.  We are really pleased with ourselves so decide to have a treat in one of the bakeries in the village. I have blueberry cake and Daz has black forest, both are small and overpriced but it’s the thought that counts!

Nawang has checked the bus service from Syabru Bensi to Kathmandu and there aren’t any buses running on the 30th but he thinks we’ll be able to find a jeep that’s brought up trekkers from Kathmandu but will have to return empty.  We hope he’s right!

 

Wednesday 27th September

Kyanjin Gompa to Langshisha Kharka, Langtang Valley

Oh how we ache! Rolling over in bed is a triumph over pain.  Yesterday’s up and down has left our legs, particularly our quads feeling bruised and battered.  So what better way to enjoy the aches and pains than to go for a lovely walk up the valley, at least it will be relatively flat!  We have breakfast and order some picnic food, Tibetan bread and yak cheese with boiled eggs for after.

It’s a bit breezy, but the sun is out again to keep us warm.  Our legs soon warm up and only squeal when we have to step up or down over rocks.  We have to cross a huge moraine early on with a small river flowing down it.  Our feet are soon wet, but as we are only in crocs they dry out quick… well Daz’s do as he isn’t wearing socks but I am so they stay wet longer (I know, I know, crocs and socks, the shame of it!)

The valley floor is wide and flat to begin and we pass herds of yaks and wild horses. Yesterday I tried to cozy up to a young yak, but when I mentioned this to our host he said we should be wary of older yaks that might charge…  now I steer a wide path around them and shout and clap to move them on if they are on the trail. We do manage to pet some of the ‘wild’ horses, they are quite sturdy little things but very beautiful.

On we trudge, the valley narrows and we are now climbing alongside the river. Our goal today is a temple/memorial about 10 or 12 km up the valley. But after 3 hours and only 8 km we are worn out from the last few days and decide to stop early.  We find a bit of shelter from the wind and enjoy our picnic. The views of the snow-capped mountains are again spectacular.  If you’re reading this and fancy an adventure then we can highly recommend this Langtang Valley trek. Most the people we have seen walking it have porters and or guides, but we have managed without. A local map is very cheap and shows all the villages and teahouses, but Maps.Me on your mobile phone will also suffice.

 

In the evening we’re invited into the iitchen and we eat with the family.

We head back down the valley and now we have a head wind,  but it’s mainly downhill except to cross the moraine again.  We feel knackered so head straight to the bakery for some more overpriced cake! Tomorrow we will head back down the valley, we think it will take us 2 days, then hopefully we can catch some transport back to Kathmandu as there will be no bus due to the festival.  We are hoping that a tourist 4×4 dropping people off and returning to Kathmandu empty will take us.

 

Thursday 28th September

Kyanjin Gompa to Rimche, Langtang Valley

This morning we’re determined to set off early so we book breakfast for 0730hrs.  After packing and saying our farewells we manage to hit the track by 0815hrs.   We’ve promised Nawang that we’ll promote his teahouse, Everest, to the trekkers coming up, which we’re more than happy to do because he’s been really helpful,and the food and accommodation has been excellent (ensuite bathroom with a shower and plentiful hot water!).  So we stop to chat to every group to recommend Everest which does slow our progress.  But generally we’re feeling strong and set a decent pace.  For lunch we stop at Potala Guest house in Pasang Tamang.  The young owner has a very sad story.

On the day of the earthquake, 25th April 2015, he was leading a trekking group that finished in Syabru Bensi that day.  But his parents and younger sister had gone to Langtang to celebrate his grandfather’s death (it’s quite common for families and villagers to gather in celebration / remembrance on the anniversary of a relative’s death).  Sadly all died in the quake and their teahouse in Pasang Tamang was destroyed and his other sisters badly hurt.  After dealing with the immediate medical needs of his sisters they then spent months living in a nearby cave.  Today his guest house is rebuilt and he runs it with his sisters.  Such a terrible tragedy to live through.  After lunch we push on, continuing our Everest advertising campaign and reach Riverside Guesthouse (our first stop on the way up) at 2pm. We bump into a fellow Brit, Dennis from Surrey.  He is travelling for 6 months in India and Nepal having rented his house out in the UK for the period.  We swap details and maybe we will catch up with him in India. The afternoon drags on, we’re struggling now and starting to tire.  I stop more frequently, using the birdlife and butterflies as my excuse.  There’s quite a variety – wish we had some binos.  Finally we reach Rimche.  We think this is far enough although we had wanted to reach the next guesthouse but it’s better to quit whilst we’re ahead.  We’ve walked 19km and dropped 1384 metres.  Time for a shower and a nice relaxing evening.

 

Friday 29th September

Rimche to Syabru Bensi,  Langtang Valley

We had planned to get up early but we woke even earlier so we were walking by 7am!  

We want to get to Syabru Bensi early to maximise our chances of finding a lift back to Kathmandu.   By 11am we’re in Syabru Bensi but there’s barely any traffic.  We check at the bus station and we’re told if there’s sufficient demand then he’ll request a special bus for tomorrow.   So that’s the back up plan but meanwhile we head to the Green Guesthouse – apparently the proprietor has the necessary contacts to arrange a lift in a jeep.   At the guesthouse we meet Ben, Alys and their 2 young children, Percy and Olive.  Ben’s an NGO working in Kathmandu and Alys and the children have flown over for a holiday.   They had intended to do the Langtang Valley trek but Percy became very poorly, with a high temperature and so they had to cancel their trek and return to Syabru Bensi .   They would also like to return to Kathmandu and their home comforts if any transport becomes available.   We sit on the patio watching for empty jeeps.  As the hours pass numerous trekkers come into the village hoping to find some return transport.  There’s a Nepali guide with a South Korean trekker who is desperate to return and he believes there’ll be a jeep in about an hour and would we share the costs.  But more hours pass and our potential jeep fails to materialise.   Finally at about 3 pm a jeep comes into the village, packed with trekkers.  Daz chases it down and negotiates a rate for a lift back to Kathmandu.   There’s us 2, the Nepalese guide and his client and Ben and his family decide to join us.  The bus journey took 12 hours but the jeep only takes about 6.  We finally reach our hotel in Kathmandu about 10pm after everyone has been dropped off.  

Saturday 30th September

Kathmandu

Today is the main day of the Hindu Dashain festival.

During the month of Kartik (late September and early October), the Nepalese people indulge in the biggest festival of the year, Dashain. Dashain is the longest and the most auspicious festival in the Nepalese annual calendar, celebrated by Nepalese of all caste and creed throughout the country. The fifteen days of celebration occurs during the bright lunar fortnight ending on the day of the full moon. Throughout the kingdom of Nepal the goddess Durga in all her manifestations are worshiped with innumerable pujas, abundant offerings and thousands of animal sacrifices for the ritual holy bathing, thus drenching the goddess for days in blood.

Dashain commemorates a great victory of the gods over the wicked demons. One of the victory stories told is the Ramayan, where the lord Ram after a big struggle slaughtered Ravana, the fiendish king of demons. It is said that lord Ram was successful in the battle only when goddess Durga was evoked. The main celebration glorifies the triumph of good over evil and is symbolized by goddess Durga slaying the terrible demon Mahisasur, who terrorised the earth in the guise of a brutal water buffalo.

Gopal and her husband invite all the hotel guests to participate in their festivities but first we need to consume a ‘Big Belly Breakfast!’  Yesterday we didn’t have a chance to eat much so today we are starving.  Over breakfast we discover Vivi and Alex (workawayers from the dog shelter) are in Kathmandu.   We go and meet them and play some cards.  Then we take them to our hotel to participate in the festivities.  

 Then we are joined by Claire and Danny (2 British guests also staying in our hotel) we proceed to indulge in a bit of a pub crawl – bizarrely not that simple when most of Kathmandu is closed for the festivities.

 Happy Dashain!

 

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Kyrgyzstan and the end of the Pamir Highway. Sary Tash to Bishkek then a bit of Almaty and on to Kathmandu! 19th Aug to 12th Sep

Saturday 19th August –   2km over Kyrgyzstan border to Archat

Distance: 60.99 km

Total Distance:  16315.58 km

We had a peaceful night, apart from a dog peeing up the side of the tent in the middle of the night!  This morning we cycle down to Sary Tash, our first Kyrgyzstan village.

We bump into some Iranian cyclists whilst we are exchanging some Tajik Som to Kyrgyz Som at the petrol station?!  Then it’s shopping time.  More provisions and a Kyrgyz SIM.   Let’s hope that the Internet coverage is better here than in Tajikistan ; we’ve been incommunicado for almost 10 days, very frustrating.   Whilst shopping we’re plagued by an old man who has had 3 large shots of vodka since we entered the shop.  It seems it’s the local bar too.  I’m pretty certain he’d already had some shots before we chanced on the scene.  Then it’s time to head off to Osh and there’s 2 passes to climb first.  The first is ‘40 Let Kyrgyzstan Pass’, the second ‘Thankful Pass’.  Daz manages to grab onto the back of a truck for the first climb but I fail miserably to grab on to a number of trucks so I cycle the full distance, 3km!

But the scenery is just breathtakingly gorgeous.   Everything is green; wild flowers in abundance and plenty of birdlife too.  I think I’ve seen more birds in the one day in Kyrgyzstan than the whole month in Tajikistan.   Daz is at the top of the pass watching a young lad on horseback herd his goats off the hillside into a corral.  After the second pass we have an incredible descent with numerous switchbacks.

There are Kyrgyz encampments on the hillsides.  They either have Yurts or old Soviet 4 wheeled caravans (possibly ex military)  and herds of livestock.   After the descent we follow the River Gulcha in its valley marvelling at the different colours in the mountains around us, reds, browns, silver and grey.

But unfortunately we have a horrendous head wind which detracts from this long descent.  We’ve done enough for the day but I’m not pitching camp in this wind but we can’t find any sheltered spots.  Finally we enter the village of Archat and there’s 2 abandoned buildings on the outskirts and one suits us perfectly.

Fried eggs and bread for dinner!

 

Sunday 20th August –   Archat to Gulcha

Distance: 67.62 km

Total Distance:  16383.2 km

It was much warmer in the abandoned house and we got a good night’s sleep out of the wind. By 9 am we are on the road again and still descending along the Gulcha River.  There’s no wind and we make good progress for a couple of hours.

It really is difficult to find enough superlatives to describe our journey down this valley, it’s just so beautiful after the high Pamirs.

We see many cyclists today, mainly because there’s a group of 17 Czech mountain bikers coming up the valley, with following support wagon! But we also stop and chat with a young American couple going to Tajikistan and a group of 3, 2  Germans and a Swiss cyclist.  The Americans have been on the road for two years and are heading to Europe in a reverse of what we have already done having cycled from SE Asia.  The threesome have already ridden the Pamirs but stopped for a month to do some climbing and are now heading to China then Pakistan.   We stop for lunch, fried Yak in a roadside cafe washed down with a warm beer before continuing.

Now the wind has picked up again and we have to pedal downhill.  Finally we reach our first largish Kyrgyz town, Gulcha and decide to treat ourselves to a proper bed, a shower, electricity and WiFi.  We even find a bottle of red wine, it’s Russian, but any port in a storm as they say!  And actually it tastes more like port than wine and it’s 18%.  Sadly the hot shower proves to be a tepid trickle but at least we’re clean after many days without a wash.

Monday 21th August –   Gulcha

This morning after much debate we decide to take a rest day.   Time to recharge all our batteries and get the blog done.  We do venture out to the Bazaar and try and track down a decent meal – as usual there doesn’t seem much available so it’s Lagman soup for me and Manti (meat filled dumplings).  Then time for more admin and relaxation.   

Tuesday 22nd August –   Gulcha to Osh

Distance: 89.24 km

Total Distance:  16472.44 km

Yesterday was one of the best rest day’s ever.  Daz did the blog whilst I slept.  Bliss!  And whilst the shower and toilet left a lot to be desired, the WiFi was great although sadly not good enough to support an episode of Game of Thrones.  We set out early to tackle the pass from Gulcha.  We hoped to hitch a ride on the back of a truck but unfortunately there was nothing slow enough so we cycled 22km all the way to the top of Chirchik Pass at 2389m.  

The views from the top were glorious. From the pass it was all downhill to Osh.  We did spend 20km draughting a tractor and barely pedalled once.

 In Osh instead of heading to the hostel I insisted on a diversion into town, seeking decent food.  And decent food we found – a fantastic Chinese meal.  It was delicious.  Plus a couple of beers to celebrate completing the Pamir Highway.   It was tough and we were incredibly lucky not to fall ill.  Many other cyclists suffered all sorts of problems health wise and yet despite the fact we didn’t have any water filtration / purifier system we’ve come through unscathed.  We were breathless from the altitude and found it more tiring but overall we’ve been OK. We have both lost a bit of weight but since we were both carrying a bit of extra padding, me especially, that’s no great loss!  

Wednesday 23rd to Friday 25th August – Osh

We spent 3 days in Osh at the TES guesthouse.  We economised on the accommodation deciding to use our tent so 4 nights came in under $50 with breakfast and our laundry and Birgit’s laundry included.

 Then we blew a load of money on red wine, beer, pizza and 3 Chinese dinners but at least now my stomach loves me again and doesn’t consider me Enemy Number 1. That said, we have lost a lot of weight through the Pamir Highway.  Daz has lost a stone and a quarter, and I’ve lost 2 stone!!  Over the 3 days we were finally reunited with Birgit and Søren. We met them at our Warmshowers host in Dushanbe and then they followed us over the Pamirs.  We also saw Coco and Marta again and met many new travellers either about to head off into Tajikistan or just finished like us!  Particularly entertaining were an Irish couple, Mike and Sorcha.  I loved their Irish accents and the frequent use of ‘feck’.  They’d been backpacking around SE Asia, Africa, Thailand, Nepal, India and China but had decided it was getting boring so they’d cycle home via the Pamir Highways.   Talk about a fecking challenging way to start a cycling adventure!! We were hoping to meet the other trike riders – 2 Swiss lads on HP Velotechnics but sadly it wasn’t to be.

Saturday 26th August Osh to Kurshab

Distance: 43.41 km

Total Distance:  16515.85 km

After 3 days we should be well rested but we’re both tired and cranky.  Instead of getting our chores done we were too busy socialising, playing cards, eating and drinking. All those wasted moments of relaxation! Yup it’s our own fault and we never learn.  But we know if we stay another day we’ll achieve as little as the previous days.   So we’re leaving.  First we have to cycle into town to get our shopping done, get Daz’s silk liner repaired byna seamstress, get another SIM Internet package.  Here the packages only last one week, but 6Gb costs less than a dollar!  Then because we’re near the Chinese again we go for an early lunch.  We had dinner here the first night, the 3rd night with Birgit and Søren and for our last lunch.  It’s still delicious!   Everything done and we head out of Osh.  The traffic is heavy but so far the Kyrgyz drivers have been kind to us. Long may it continue – we’ve heard some horror stories about the Kyrgyz drivers.  After about 15km we’re out into the country and enjoying the easy riding on good tarmac.

 

 Everyone waves, says hello or hoots their horns.  From Tajikistan we’ve descended 3000m to Osh and we’re cycling through rolling arable land, that’s more golden than green.  Harvest time I think.  Daz gets handed a small watermelon as we cycle passed some roadside sellers, it’s a good job it’s small as the bigmones are really huge.  He ends up carrying it in his lap for the next 15 km!  The temperature has increased too.  We’re back into the 30s again.  I guess it’s typically British but we complained bitterly about the low temperatures during the last week of the Pamir Highways and now we’re complaining we’re too hot again!!! I think we need some British weather to put it back into perspective.   In Kurshab we find a quiet piece of woodland and even though it’s in the middle of town it seems deserted.  I think this will make an ideal camping spot.  

Sunday 27th August – Kurshab to Masadan

Distance: 64.1 km

Total Distance:  16579.95 km

Apart from some weird kids making wolf and dog impressions as we were going to sleep we had a quiet night.  We were even afforded shade in the morning from all the lovely trees, bonus.  We are back to cycling in the heat again, low 40’s during the middle of the day. We cycle through rolling arable land, golden and sun kissed.   Apart from one mediocre hill the going is easy. We do stop in Uzgen and wander around their historic minaret and madrassah.  Daz reacquaints himself with some Samsa, spelt Camca here, a kind of ball shaped cornish pasty. Towards the end of the day we sit in a roadside restaurant and celebrate the weekend with a beer before cycling a few more kilometers to find a campsite in a roadside field.  Surrounded by corn we eat our fried vegetables and noodles washed down with a couple of cups of tea. The sun has set now and it’s bucket wash time before bedtime, oh the joy of being on the road!!

Monday 28th August – Masadan to Boston

Distance: 57.63 km

Total Distance:  16637.58 km

Ahhh,  a very wet tent this morning, it seems we camped in a wet area and the dew was stupendous!  So it took a while to dry everythjng out before we set off. Thankfully it’s roasting hot again today!  An early hill seems to catch Daz by surprise and by midday he has got the shakes and needs food.  Maybe it’s his body wondering why a few days ago (in Osh) there was constant food, in large quantities and very tasty too, but now back to minimal rations!! We stuff him with our emergency snickers, biscuits and coke then head to the first restaurant we can find. Fortunately it’s a good one and we order shashlik and BBQ chicken.  Suitably fortified and rested we push on with Daz taking the head wind and setting a cracking pace, he has obviously recovered.  We cycle through little villages and towns along the road.

Finally we find another field and call it a day. I’m just chopping some veggies for dinner when a car pulls over and gives us a load of leftover food from a party!! Yey, no more cooking tonight!

 

Tuesday 29th August – Boston to Lesnoy National park

Distance: 29.56 km

Total Distance:  16667.14 km

Another fabulous night’s sleep despite the close promimity of the main road.  Despite the fact the tent is practically dry it still takes us 90 minutes until we get started – too much Kindling (new definition: time spent reading our Kindles) I think.  

Then we see two German cyclists and stop for a chat.  Then there’s a photo session.  

 The upshot by 11am we’ve barely made 10km so I decide a good skive is in order.  Daz disagrees but soon feels so guilty about thwarting my plan that he capitulates.  Result!  We park up on a lay-by next to a petrol station and start hitching.  Within 10 minutes a flat-bed truck pulls up and we’re away.

 70km later we get dropped off.  He wants 500 Som (7$) but since we’ve skipped some uninspiring scenery we’re well chuffed.  We’re now in the Lesnoy National Park with a beautiful ribbon of aqua blue lakes providing water to the hydro electric dams.

 I’m not sure of the size of Kyrgyzstan but i’m guessing it’s self sufficient in energy.  There aren’t many camping opportunities so when we spot one we stop.  I desperately wanted a good wash but we don’t have much water.  Solution: trek down a steep re-entrant to the lake.  There’s no beach area at the bottom just a 4’ drop into the lake so we both leap off into the water.  It’s chilly but so delicious!  Fortunately we find a narrow ledge to climb out! Daz spots an opportunity for cliff jumping and tries one at 8’ and then at 15’.  He’s loving it!  Then it’s a scramble back up the hill and time for dinner and bed.  

Wednesday 30th August – Lesnoy National park to Kara Kul

Distance: 26.1 km

Total Distance:  16693.24 km

We’re up early today.  There’s a head wind and it’s undulating – short sharp uphills and then down, then repeat.

 It’s fun but very tiring! We ran out of water this morning at breakfast, so we skipped porridge and Daz toasted some stale bread we had left over. Fortunately we managed a cup of tea before setting off.  We had about 2 mouthfuls of water each to sustain us until the next town but we stop and try scrounging water from passing traffic.  I see a bottle heading towards Daz’s head – it’s a half bottle of water thrown from a moving truck! We cycle into Kara Kul (actually we discover it’s just the suburbs, the centre is still 8km away) a little parched and soon neck our first of 2 one litre bottles of coke. We decide to have an early lunch as we had missed breakfast porridge!   Sausage and eggs for me and Daz has the local dumpling soup.  

We also need to find some Internet as we have important admin to get sorted.  Just past a police toll point we notice a rather new, and busy looking restaurant / hotel with a big ‘Free Wi-Fi ‘ sign. That’ll do nicely! By the time we get our flights booked for Nepal (the internet is not strong in this one Luke!) we decide to have a half day! The cycle to the next pass can wait until tomorrow.   What’s great is that the hotel is not only brand new and clean, but very cheap too, so we book a room for $14.

 

Thursday 31st August – Kara Kul to Toktogul Reservoir

Distance: 27.38 km

Total Distance:  16720.62 km

 

A warm night, no aircon, but a restful sleep. Pancakes for breakfast,  oh yes please! This place is really great.  Yesterday we booked our Nepal flight and because the cheap flights were few and far between we compromised on a flight from Bishkek on 12th September.   This means we don’t have time to cycle to Bishkek. So our plan today is to cheat.  There’s a pass ahead of us so we’re going to attempt to hitch to the top.  First we decide we need to do a shop in Kara Kul.  It’s only 8 km away but when we set off we realise it’s up a great sodding hill, so much for cheating.   There’s a white water rapid flowing down the re-entrant at the side of the road, quite spectacular if we weren’t too wornout on the early hill!

Once in the village and shopping done we sit by the road side with our thumbs out.  After a couple of false starts (including a guy that offers us a lift for 300som, loads our gear and then demands 3000som -$40) a truck carrying barrels of apple juice gives us a lift. We have to lift the trikes on top of the barrels of apple juice but all is good. 30 km later we are at the top of the pass.   Even the truck struggled and nearly overheated on the last steep bit so we are glad for the lift.  The driver even invited us to tea once we arrive in Bishkek.

A glorious 10 km descent sees us gliding down to Toktogul Reservoir.   It’s a beautiful blue and the mountains beyond are very colourful.   We check out a couple of possible camping spots but they are either crowded with locals enjoying the cooling waters or the reservoir is not accessible.  After another 10 km we finally see a nice plateau off to the side.  We take a dirt track and park our bikes.  Swimming kit, bottle of beer and some snacks and we walk for about 10 minutes to the calm blue waters of the reservoir.  There’s not a soul in sight so it’s skinny dipping time again. We sit on the pebbles with our feet in the water and eat our bread and cheese washed down with a local beer we’ve had cooling in the water. The views are amazing, hardly a ripple on the water.  It’s incredibly beautiful.  How lucky are we?

Friday 1st September – Toktogul Reservoir to Sangar

Distance: 21.94 km

Total Distance:  16742.56 km

Our plan today is to do very little so that’s precisely what we do.  We sit and enjoy a leisurely breakfast and hit the road about 10.30am.  We stop and chat to 2 German lads cycling the other way and get a tip for accommodation in Bishkek.  

 This is one of the greatest things about cycling – almost everyone stops (we’ve passed some ignorant fuckers who don’t but we assume they’re in a rush) and swap news of the route ahead, travel itineraries and other helpful tips.  After our chat we continue on until our first village.  A young boy flags us down, he wants Daz’s tyres so we give him the 2 spare tyres Daz has been carrying.  Yesterday I binned the 2 tyres I was carrying.  Then we go to his house for bread, raspberry jam and tea.  In the village we stop for some provisions and then head off to find a camping spot.  We find ( after a considerable search) a site by the lake but there isn’t a shingle beach like yesterday just a muddy inlet.  But once past the scum and sinky, sucky mud it’s very pleasant.   

We planned to cook egg banjos for lunch and we’re just in preparation mode when a man mountain strolls up.  This guy is huge, and he would fit into the Fijian rugby team seamlessly.  He has hands the size of shovels.   He’s actually a policeman (less uniform).  He asks what we’re up to and then makes odd hand rubbing signs.  We’re completely clueless as to the message he’s trying to convey so then he pulls Daz away and shows him the marijuana plants growing around us. Perhaps he’s patrolling the lake for drug users and miscreants.  

 Now it’s dinner time and Daz is busy burning marijuana plants over our camp stove and breathing in the fumes.  

 

Saturday 2nd September – Sangar to Töö Ashuu Pass/ Tunnel

Distance: 21.10 km

Total Distance:  16763.66 km

Today we’re rudely awaken by some fishermen.  They’ve been night fishing but the fact our tent is all zipped up and there’s no-one about is no deterrent.   They keep hollering until we come out to say ‘Hi’.   Today’s plan is still unresolved.  We cycle around the eastern end of the lake and then go in search of a nice swimming spot. Our first location is horrendous – loads of rubbish both in the water and on the shore.  We head to another spot which is rather nice; the water is clear and the beach isn’t too strewn with rubbish.   However it’s so easily accessible it attracts many other visitors.   No skinny dipping today.  We watch a group of men who drink vodka, swim, clean their car and then start wrestling.   After a few hours we decide to move on.  

Back on the main road we start hitching.  We want to get to the top of Töö Ashuu Pass at 3586m. Depressingly whilst there’s plenty of cars and minibuses, there are no trucks.  After 30minutes our first viable truck comes over the hill and he stops for us.  He’ll give us a lift but for 1000som (about $14).  And so we agree and load up!  We pass some amazing scenery, Chichkan and It-Agar canyons with swirling rivers besides then over Alabel Ashuusu Pass at 3184m to a plateau filled with Yurt camps and herds of horses sheep and goat.  

After 4 hours our very slow truck arrives at the top of the Töö Ashuu pass, well to the tunnel.  The tunnel is very narrow and about 2.5 km long.  Trucks are only allowed through from one side at a time so we wait at a traffic light as the sky darkens and night descends.  Finally we are allowed through, by the time we are through the very scary tunnel (no wonder you’re not allowed to cycle through) it’s dark on the other side. We unload and put the bags back on the bikes in the dark.

 Lights on we start off down the road looking for a camping spot.  We want one as soon as possible as there is tons of traffic on the road, the surface is terrible and we don’t want to be cycling at the same time!  Fortunately within about a kilometer or two we find a level bit of ground on a bend and camp.  A quick tent erection, brew and snack and it’s time for bed.  The constant noise of trucks grinding up the pass, or hissing brakes descending soon sends us to sleep!

 

Sunday 3rd September – Töö Ashuu Pass/ Tunnel to Bishkek

Distance: 136.69 km

Total Distance:  16900.35 km

 

After a cold night we are soon up, the plan, a 135km cycle all the way to Bishkek!  Are we mad, we’ve never cycled so far!  Don’t worry, apparently it’s all downhill! We set out about half past nine, having fortified ourselves with the usual cups of tea and porridge.  

We complete 30km in the first hour.  But the descent is not as free flowing as we would have liked; the tarmac is cracked and there are ruts and potholes to avoid.  Then when we get nearer to the bottom the wind picks up in the canyon, and it’s a headwind! So now we actually need to pedal on the gentle descent to make headway.  

After the canyon we cycle through open plains.  We make good progress despite the headwind.  After 70 km we turn right onto the main road towards Bishkek and still there’s a headwind, what gives with this wind!?  

The road is busier now and as we near the capital the traffic gets even heavier.  We stop at a roadside shop and grab some lunch provisions then shelter under the shade of a tree to eat our bread, cheese and crisps.  Unfortunately half the cheese triangles we bought are mouldy! The rest, like the bread, are hard! But a kind lady who lives in a nearby house brings us some biscuits, bananas and tomatoes, how nice! Refreshed we push on, only another 20 km to go.  The traffic is now very heavy indeed but there’s a huge car sale next to the road and there are cars and people everywhere ; it’s chaos.

 We manage to escape unscathed but the remainder of the journey continues to be stressful as we dodge cars, buses and people whilst trying to spot junction signs and traffic lights.  Finally, after a quick beer stop in the Metro pub, we arrive at our hostel.  Our best distance ever!!!

 

Monday 4th to Wednesday 6th September

Bishkek

Most of this time is spent preparing for our flight to Nepal.  First we dismantle the trikes which is unexpectedly quick and straightforward. The only difficult part is when we try to separate my frame.  Daz’s came apart quite easily but mine is stuck fast.  Eventually a tiny gap appears but then I snap off the end of a screwdriver trying to force it apart further.  

However,  preparing the bike boxes is massively time consuming.   First we need to acquire normal bike boxes.  Then we need to cut these up to conform to Flydubai dimensions 75cmx55cmx35cm.  We also need tape and bubble wrap.  We discover our 2 acquired bike boxes only makes 2 Flydubai boxes and we’re going to need 4.  So now we need to acquire 2 more bike boxes and collect them.  That’s 2 days committed to boxing our trikes and still we’re not done.  Finally on day 3 we wrap our trike parts and box everything.   

We’ve also bought 2 Chinese bags to hold our panniers.  There is still more to do but we’ll finish it all up when we return from Almaty.  During this epic procedure we spend time with Lottie and Ryan who we last saw in Murghab.  

 

Thursday 7th to Sunday 10th September

Almaty

Thursday we catch a bus to Almaty.  It’s hot, sweaty and uncomfortable and takes most of the day.  Friday we head to the British Consulate where we hope to pick up some parcels.  There are (we think) 4 parcels in play. Two were sent to Tashkent but took so long to get there (8 weeks) that we were long gone.  The Tashkent DA kindly arranged for them to be carried to Almaty by a colleague.   Two were sent to Astana, one from Azub in Czech Republic,  and the other from Scotland.   Both these have then had to be carried from Astana to Almaty by DA staff. So in summary a complete cluster, all of our making, and fixed by the assistance of numerous DA staff but particularly Matt (thank you all!).  

We arrive at the Consulate in an exuberant mood which is soon rudely deflated when there’s no answer at the door!  We check we’re in the right place for the right time.  We are! But the lady who mans the office has gone off somewhere.   We phone Matt in Astana.  He manages to track her down but she won’t be in the office until 3pm.  So we fill our time with a Croc search before returning to the Consulate.  Eventually we have 4 parcels in our hands.  Daz is beside himself with excitement.   We’re not entirely sure what we’ve got since it’s so long since we ordered this stuff.  There’s new MTB shoes, a flag, a solar panel, maps, tent pegs, credit card and more.  It’s fabulous.   

Saturday is sightseeing day.

In amongst the usual monuments,  churches and cathedrals there’s Arbat Street.  We were expecting it to be Almaty’s equivalent to Covent Garden full of street artists and arty stalls but instead it’s just a huge construction site with a mass of workmen everywhere.  

The highlight of the day is the Arsan baths, a collection of baths; the Finnish, Russian and Turkish style hammams (steam rooms) and Moroccan.  The bathing areas are totally segregated for men and women and most visitors are naked.  We alternate between the Finnish sauna, the Russian steam room and the Hammam hot slabs with sudden cooling using the buckets of freezing water or dips in the swimming pool.  In addition to the baths, I have several treatments.   A back massage and a body scrub.  Daz has a back massage too but also tries the venik –  bunches of dried birch leaves, which have been soaked – wielded by a fellow bather who gives Daz a gentle slap (or not!) to stimulate circulation and remove toxins.

Sunday we travel back to Bishkek.  During our travels around Bishkek and Almaty we’ve mostly used public buses.  Obviously we can’t ask where the bus goes but with a combination of handsignals and MapsMe we’re able to travel effectively.   We also use the unofficial taxi – wave a hand and a private car will stop and then it’s just a question of conveying destination and agreeing a price.  

Monday 11th September

Bishkek

Today we finish packing.  We’ve paid for an extra 20kg each so we each have 40kg for hold luggage.  We’re allowed 7kg each as carry on luggage with a further 3kg each as a hand bag.  We thought we’d easily conform to these requirements.  How wrong could we be!! Daz says the trikes are no more than 20kg each and when we did a pannier weigh in, mine were under 20kg and Daz’s just over.  So why are we 10kg over for hold luggage plus exceeding both carry on thresholds.  Instead of the permitted 100kg we’re carrying about 113kg.  This is after a complete repack (initially we were probably carrying over 120kg) which includes removing many clothing items which we’re going to ‘wear’ to board.  So instead of wearing crocs, shorts and T-shirts to board it’s trousers, shirts, socks, cycling shoes, 2 jackets each with pockets filled with pants, hats, buffs and spare undies.   And binning anything we can! By the end of the pack we’re both completely fed up and expect a huge bill.  It’s £7 for every excess kg.  Now we just have to sit and wait.  We’re getting a taxi to the airport at 6pm and our flight is at 0540hrs tomorrow morning. Yes it’s an early move to the airport, but we didn’t want to pay for another night in the hostel. Hopefully we can sleep in the terminal!

 

Tuesday 12 September

Bishkek to Kathmandu

So we just about managed to load all our baggage into one 4×4 and got to the airport safely by about 7pm last night.  We then had an 8 hour wait until our check in and a further 3 hours until our flight was due to depart.   Fortunately the airport is pretty deserted except for another pair of cyclists with their bike boxes who are flying back home to France via Moscow.  So we end up chatting away the next few hours before trying to get a little shuteye.

At 3am our check in desk opens and with fingers crossed we join the short queue.  To cut a long story short we wave goodbye to our luggage and also $215 in excess luggage charges.  We are so depressed.  Flydubai have charged us for the extra 13 kg.   Not even a whiff of letting us go free of charge.  Our flights are uneventful and after a 4 hour stop over in Dubai we finally reach Kathmandu.  We are shattered, grimy and irritated, but the good news is our baggage arrived with us with only one box being slightly damaged.  

We load up another taxi and set of into the darkness towards Kathmandu city centre.  It’s hot and humid and the traffic is as manic as we remember from previous visits to Nepal.  

We get booked into our hotel in the tourist district of Thamel and after a cleansing shower decide to celebrate by going to Sam’s Bar.  This is one of  the only places in town Daz can remember!   But it has an excellent ambience and the beers are cold.

 Later we get a rickshaw taxi to a very local restaurant on a dodgy looking backstreet and eat a ton of food to soak up the beers.

Welcome to Kathmandu!!

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Pamir Highway – Tajikistan Finale 2nd Aug to 18 Aug 2017

Khorog – 2/3 August

Time for a rest, laundry, admin and catching up with friends at home. Tuesday night we had a fantastic curry, the best meal we’ve had since Dushanbe. Delicious.  Khorog is a bustling metropolis in this region.  There’s a park in the centre with a pool the colour of muddy water but that’s clearly no deterrent to the locals.  There are so many cyclists at the Pamir Lodge and we met the French couple, Lucy and Louis again and Marta and Coco who’ve been here a whole week because Coco is extremely poorly.

Friday 4th August – Khorog to Rivak

Distance: 32.96km

Total Distance:  15720.23km

After 2 lovely relaxing days off it’s time to head off again.  We head out of Kharog along the M41, following the River Gunt.

We have seen the last of Afghanistan and the Punj, that’s for those braving the Whakan Valley, and whilst it sounds beautiful we think the bad roads and long distances between villages would just be too tough for us.  We struggle to find our rhythm after our time off so decide to pitch tent early and enjoy the company of a cow who’s decided to join us for the evening – better conversationalist than Darren!!!

Highest Altitude 2474 metres.

 

Saturday 5th August –  Rivak to Vox

Distance: 42.25 km

Total Distance:  15762.48 km

We slept really well last night, in fact we were asleep by 7pm, way before sunset! But it’s nice when that happens.  Today is a much better day mentally. We are by the river again and back with high mountains all around. There’s still snow on the high slopes and peaks feeding all the side streams that join the river.  We stop for lunch in a roadside shack. They only have egg and chips on the menu, Daz sticks up 2 fingers, “yes please!”  Then they even add sausage! Refreshed we cycle on and we’re accompanied by a very resilient trio. They only have 2 bikes between them so one is always running to keep up – they stay with us for 5km before finally deciding we’re really not that interesting.

  We struggle to find a decent camping spot.  There’s no shade but finally find a flat area to camp near the river. No shade but a breeze keeps us cool.  Once the sun goes down behind the mountains we can put the tent up.     A group of Tajiks who are dancing by the river when we arrive give us half a melon as they leave!

Highest Altitude 2900 metres.

 

Sunday 6th August –  Vox to Kuighan-tugai

Distance: 40.0 km

Total Distance:  15802.48 km

Today the river we’ve been following turns from a dirty grey to an incredibly enticing azure.  It’s been relatively placid in its wide valley but today it’s forced into several narrow gorges so we sit and watch the rapids.  Over the gorge there’s a rickety bridge made by branches woven over the 3 supporting wires – video time!  I’m waiting for the branches to crack and for Daz to plummet into the white water and I’ll have a clip for ‘You’ve been framed’.   Fortunately (???) the bridge holds.

 There’s quite a lot of hills today and a scarcity of shops.  We pass a restaurant without bothering to stop and soon regret our impulsiveness.   We stop in the next hamlet ( about 2 hours later) and ask some locals at the side of the road if they have any bread.  Fortunately one pootles off and comes back with a big round flat bread and it’s peanut butter and jam butties for lunch.  Soon after we decide to stop for the day when we spot a nice camping spot by the river.  First challenge – a dip in the river.

 P1260344

It’s bloody freezing but there’s also a wicked current so an actual swim is out of the question.  So we settle for a refreshing dip and wash in the shallows before setting up our campsite.

Highest Altitude – 3318 metres

 

Monday 7th August –  Kuighan-tugai to 10km beyond Jelodny

Distance: 24.52 km

Total Distance:  15827 km

Bugger bugger bugger.  We had such high hopes for Jelodny but we manage to miss the restaurant / sanatorium / hotel.  We asked about 10 people and received 10 different answers.  When we work out where we should have been we’re already a couple of kilometers away and can’t summon the motivation to retrace our steps!  Instead we buy some more provisions and head up the pass.

We spot a beautiful green, flat area by the river and decide to stop for the day.  It’s early but we’re trying to capture pictures of a large burrowing creature the size of a cat. We spotted it by the river and then it scarpered to its den.  I’ve laid egg shells by its burrow to entice it into the open again!

Tuesday 8th August –  10km beyond Jelodny to 17km beyond Koitezek Pass

Distance: 35.42 km

Total Distance:  15862.42 km

Today we struggle up to Koitezek Pass at 4271m. Our first 4000 metre plus pass, whoop!!  A tough climb and there’s black cloud over the top but fortunately there’s only a few spots of rain.

 A couple of kilometers after the pass there’s a house so we stop for tea and a bite to eat.  It’s lamb stew – not my favourite but we’re starving and this is easier than breaking out our cooking equipment.   There’s a guy working outside, we thought he was slicing peat into manageable pieces for the stove but it’s not peat it’s animal dung and he’s splitting the large lumps so it dries in the sun.  Maybe dung burning is why it’s so smelly indoors.

 After food we continue on our way.  We were hoping for a long downhill but we’re disappointed – it’s undulating rough road.  We’re taking a break on the roadside and 2 British cars from the Mongol Rally stop and chat.  We’ve seen several cars from the Rally over the past few days – thinking of putting it on our bucket list.

 Last night we failed to spot our furry friend but today we spot loads on the hillsides.  We hear them calling a warning when they see us nearby.  Are they Marmots or Prairie Dogs?  

We stop by a stream to camp for the night.  Not long after setting up camp two young children come over and seem determined to squat (an incredibly popular resting pose out here) and watch us all night.  Daz chivvies them away so we can have our wash.  These rivers aren’t getting any warmer.

Wednesday 9th August –  17km beyond Koitezek Pass to Lake Yashilkul

Distance: 35.96 km

Total Distance:  15898.38 km

This morning we start with a climb but then the road levels out across a high plain with snow capped hills on the horizon.  We meet a Norwegian cyclist, Hans, coming the other way.  He’s been on the road 3 years!

 Just after meeting him the road turns to glorious tarmac!  At last!  And then there’s a beautiful viewpoint over the salt lakes Tuzkul and Sasykkul.

 It’s at this point we stupidly decide to detour to the hot spring near Lake Yashilkul.   It’s 22km of tough riding with washboard and deep sand.  

After 10km we come to a beautiful lake, Bulunkul, and it’s here things start to go wrong.  There’s hills where the sand is too deep to cycle and then our track deteriorates into a rocky footpath up a steep incline. No way can we ride any further and going back is out of the question.  We unload the trikes, carry up the bags and Daz heroically carries each trike up the steep rocky path over his shoulder.  Wow – amazing!

 Back at the top we find the track we should’ve been on and push on for a few more kilometers.   We are on a flat open plateau overlooking the lake but the hot spring is down in the river valley.  So we set up camp on the high ground and then walk down into the river valley.  This is when we discover there’s a deep, fast flowing river between us and the hot spring.  Well there’s no point swimming across the frigid water, to have a warm bath and then swimming back so we settle for another cold river wash before returning to our campsite for dinner.  It’s been a disappointing day but the view over the lake to the mountains beyond is breathtaking.

 

Thursday 10th August –   Lake Yashilkul to Bash Gumbez

Distance: 54.44 km

Total Distance:  15952.82 km

An incredibly tough off-road 30km to Alichur.  It’s sandy and rocky but the views are stunning.

After 10km we pass a Yurt.  We stop to say hello.  There’s an old couple and their son.  They invite us inside and we have numerous cups of çay and homemade bread, butter and jam and kaffir.  We’re starving so we shovel as much down our faces as possible.  What an incredible generous way to treat complete strangers. And we got to see their Yurt which they live in all year round.  We also asked about the Marmots – they do snare them and eat them.  I wonder if they’re tasty.  Thank God we stopped because we’re desperately short of water so there’ll be no food until Alichur.

  Just after the Yurt there’s a geyser but sadly it seems to have dried up.

 The next 20km Daz says is like a roller coaster.  Steep ups and downs with the challenge to get as much speed as possible downhill to make the up whilst steering around sharp rocks and dealing with horrendous camber.  Loose sand has us skidding around corners, fun at times but so tough!  Finally we see Alichur and we’re so overwhelmed that we made it in one piece!

 In the village we stop for food.  Eggs and potatoes, salad and bread.  After our meal we go on a shopping expedition.  We’re escorted by a large group of children and there’s plenty of offers for a homestay but we decide to push on.  We have a strong tailwind and good tarmac so, for the first time in days, we make great progress.  We had planned to camp by the river but it’s in a wide, flat valley that acts like a wind tunnel.   Too exposed for my taste so we forego the river wash and push on until we spot some deserted buildings up a side valley.  We find a relatively sheltered spot for our tent; we’ve seen grey clouds behind us so we think there may be rain or a storm later.

 After such a filling lunch in Alichur we’re content to snack on biscuits and bread and chocolate spread with several cups of tea to wash it all down.  And then to bed, it’s been a really tough day today so hopefully we’ll sleep like the dead!

Friday 11th August –   Bash Gumbez to 14km before Murghab

Distance: 70.00 km

Total Distance:  16022.82 km

The rain/storm didn’t materialise last night but the wind was gusting around our tent so we were glad of the shelter we had.  Then it’s back into the huge wind tunnel up to the pass – Neizatash Pass at 4136 m. Thank goodness it was a tailwind probably 25mph so even on the climbs we managed to keep a good pace.  

After the pass we have glorious views and a glorious downhill.  This is the bit I love about cycling.

 The vague intention was to push on to Murghab but we spot a beautiful camping spot by the river and decide to call a halt to proceedings.  Whilst I’m writing Daz is busy finding his caveman roots and building a bonfire!  He even manages to put the kettle on and successfully makes a brew on the bonfire.   

Further down river we notice two motorbikes trying to get to a decent camping spot.  Daz wanders over and shows them the slip road into our campsite, so they come and join us.   Ryan and Lottie are from the UK and have been motorbiking for the last 5 months.  They camp across from us and then join us around the bonfire to chat whilst they cook their food.  It’s great talking to fellow Brits after so long and the conversation ranges from what we miss at home to what we have loved and experienced on the road. It’s way past bedtime by the time we finish nattering and call it a night.

 

Highest Altitude 4270 metres

Saturday 12 th August –   14km before Murghab to Murghab

Distance: 15.56 km

Total Distance:  16038.38 km

We are all up and share a brew and eat breakfast.

Ryan and Lottie mentioned last night that there’s a horse festival on this weekend in Murghab,  absolute bonus.  So we head off and just before the town we see the festival up on a bluff.

We cycle up and park our bikes.  There’s a large crowd watching the horsemanship and we spot the Dutch motorcyclists and then Ryan and Lottie.  There are a lot of European tourists here too.  When we arrive the horsemen are thundering down the central sandy arena and picking up bean bags off the floor,  or trying too. They are leaning right over their speeding horses and a few come a cropper and tumble off into the sand.  After this there is horse wrestling.  The topless riders grapple with each other trying to drag their opponent off their horse.

We wander around the local stalls and buy some fried snacks and then a seasame flavoured icecream!

The final event of the day is called ‘kiss the girl’ but they have stopped for lunch so we decide to cycle into Murghab and book into the Pamir Hotel.  They only have dorm rooms left at US $ 10 per person including breakfast .   At least there is a shower, our first hot shower in 9 days.  But no WiFi and no power between the hours of 2pm and 7pm!

 

Sunday 13th August – Murghab

We spent yesterday evening chatting to Lottie and Ryan and Karin and Dave (the Dutch motorcyclists).   Lottie also taught us a new card game. We eat and drink and have a great evening.

 On Sunday we go to the Bazaar with Lottie and Ryan and then they head off.

The Dutch guys have already gone.  We can’t get fuel for our cooker until tomorrow so it’s a day of napping, reading, bike maintenance and cleaning our kit.  We have dinner in the hotel again and we’re joined by 3 people from a tour group.  An Irish lady and an Austrian and a German. They’re half way through a 14 day tour and they’re hilarious when they describe some of the homestays and hotels they’ve had to endure; the terrible food and the foul toilets / showers.  Of course we’re used to the crummy food etc although we’re getting fed up of it now.  Roll on Bishkek and some decent food – it’s only about 1000km away!!!

Monday 14 th August –  Murghab to 33 km before Okbadal pass

Distance: 41.92 km

Total Distance:  16080.3 km

After breakfast we pack up and head off stopping off by the hospital to buy denatured alcohol for our cooker.  Today is tough. Daz is feeling breathless and his belly is unsettled whilst I’m unimpressed by the long stretches of straight road with little to appreciate in the way of scenery.  And no Marmots either!

We do meet a pair of oncoming cyclists. As we stop to say hello Daz recognises them from Facebook,  it’s Michael and his girlfriend otherwise known as #Rausgefahren. They were in Georgia about the same time as us but headed north through Russia and around to Eastern Kazakhstan before coming to the Pamirs. We chat for a while then head our separate ways, we may see them again in India!

We’re heading to the top of the highest pass in the Pamirs so we’re continually climbing and although the gradient is very gentle our progress is slow and we have a head wind.  We wanted to get closer to the top of the pass but we can’t pass up the opportunity to camp by a beautifully clear stream where we can wash and do our dishes.  We bought some fresh veggies at the Bazaar yesterday so we add them to our noodles, delicious for once!

Highest Altitude 3950 metres.

Tuesday 15th August –   33 km before Okbadal pass to 9km after Okbadal Pass

Distance: 42.40 km

Total Distance:  16122.7 km

This morning we wake after a cold night, so cold that there is ice in our water bladder and our proverbial cup of tea takes longer to boil!  Today we’re blessed with stunning views of the red mountains and we have a close up of the Chinese border fence.  Apparently the Chinese border is actually on the ridge line but they seem to have trespassed into Tajik territory for their fence.  There’s a couple of holes in the fence so we pop over to China for a couple of minutes.

  The riding today is incredibly tough – well for me but Daz seems fine.  We’re plagued by strong head winds as well as 700m of climb.  It doesn’t sound much but with the altitude it’s incredibly tough.  We finally crest Okbadal Pass at 4655m – this is the highest pass of the Pamir Highway.

  I can’t wait to lose some height so I hammer down the other side but the head wind is baltic and the road is pretty rough.  I’m so pooped that as soon as I spot a possible campsite I stop.  Sadly the shelter I was planning on using is just one big toilet so we’re out in the open, but too tired to care.

Highest Altitude 4655 metres

Wednesday 16th August –   9km after Okbadal Pass to Karukul

Distance: 50.89 km

Total Distance:  16173.59 km

Another cold night, the stream next to us has ice forming in weird sculptures along its edges.  The road for the next 15 km is horrendous;  loose gravel and deep washboard for most of its length.   We swerve from side to side trying to find the best line, but they’re all awful.  The strong headwind soon picks up again too.  But we do stop to admire a rather nice old caravanserais.

 Soon after the road surface turns to tarmac, what a relief that is!   Then we have a long descent on a long straight road (24km!) towards Karukul lake. The wind has turned and except for some rough tarmac in places we make good speed.  The lake is a deep blue turquoise with snow capped mountains beyond.  It’s another beautiful sight.  

Finally we arrive in Karukul village, the last village before the Kyrgyzstan border.  It looks deserted and has the feel of an old Soviet military camp.  But we crest a small rise and spot some life; two Tajik soldiers whitewashing a boulder.

 We spot a homestay sign.  We’ve only been cycling for just over 4 hours, but the last 2 days climbing and the high winds have drained us so we decide it’s time to experience a homestay.   Our first and probably last of Tajikistan.   We’re given soup for our lunch and then settle into our room.   We’ve been told shower time is 7pm but we soon get a knock on our door and we’re told there’s hot water.  I’m led to the bathroom (?).  There’s a wood burner heating a tank of water and then there’s a bucket of cold water.  I simply need to fill a plastic scoop with hot water (it’s scalding hot), add some cold and then douse myself.  Apply shower gel, soap and rinse.  It’s actually very enjoyable.  Once Daz has washed we relax and read until dinner.  At dinner we chat to 3 New Zealanders taking part in the Mongol Rally.  It sounds as if they’re having a great experience.   During dinner and until 11pm the generator is running and we have lights and a charging opportunity.   

Thursday 17th August –   Karukul to 14km after Uy Buloq Pass

Distance: 44.80 km

Total Distance:  16218.39 km

About 3am I needed the loo.  I had to go to the outside dunny.  There were no lights in Karukul,  only moonlight.  There’s certainly no light pollution out here.  About 7.30am we get up and discover it’s actually very cold outside.  We’re given breakfast but like our other 2 meals it’s very basic and very small portions.  We prepare to leave but today we need extra layers to keep warm.  We headout of Karukul and up Uy Buloq Pass at 4232m.  

The views back over Karukul Lake and the snow capped mountains are stunning.  

The pass isn’t so tough and we stop for lunch before the descent. Whilst we are stopped another Mongol Rally car stops to say hello.

Sadly whilst we’re taking our break the wind switches to a head wind and starts churning up the dust.  We descend but it’s like being sand blasted.  It’s also pretty chilly (18 deg C) but the wind has a bite to it.  If there were any trucks we’d hitch a lift to the border but there’s hardly any traffic except for a stray Morris Minor!!

We manage 14km and spot some derelict buildings the other side of the Chinese border fence, luckily there’s also a break in the fence.  We carry out a recce and Daz gives the site his approval.  It isn’t up to our usual standards but we’re worried we won’t find anything better.  Hopefully tomorrow the wind will be in our favour to cover the last 14km to the Tajikistan border.

Friday 18th August –   14km after Uy Buloq Pass to 2km over Kyrgyzstan border

Distance: 36.20km

Total Distance:  16254.59 km

 

The buildings provided some shelter but the wind was still blowing strongly at midnight making the tent flap noisily.  We did manage some sleep but woke to ice on the tent.  

We were enjoying our morning routine of Kindle reading accompanied by tea, followed by porridge when I looked up and discovered 2 Tajik soldiers coming towards us.  They had appeared from nowhere coming from the China direction.  There was no vehicle anywhere in sight. The senior of the 2, a Captain, was clearly unimpressed with our choice of camping spot.  He kept pointing at the fenceline as if to say “ Can you 2 idiots not see the fenceline!  This is the buffer zone and a no-go area for all.  Not a bloody camping ground!”.  We promised to move on as soon as our icy tent had dried and our breakfast routine was complete.  Having no idea where they’d come from we were curious to see what they’d do next.  They walked to the road, waited and chatted and eventually when a car came along tried to hitch a lift to the Tajik border.  Having eaten and packed up we resumed our uphill struggle to the Tajik border.

  It took us several hours on the terrible gravel, sand, washboard surface.  Finally we got there and saw the Army Captain who had watched us at breakfast.

  We had our passports checked and passed through the Tajik border into 20km of no-man’s land between Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan.   We climbed another pass – the Kizil Art Pass at 4280m and then descended on a horrendously rough, rocky track to the Kyrgyzstan border.

 It was freezing but we had beautiful views up the wide Kyzyl river valley  to snow capped mountains at its head.  Lenin peak, at 7134 metres is a popular climbing destination and there are numerous base camps on the map belonging to different expedition companies.  

At the Kyrgyzstan border we waited our turn to have our passports checked.  Once through the border control we stopped for a late lunch.   We’d both heard muffled explosions as we descended from the Tajik border but couldn’t work out the source.  Whilst enjoying a lovely cuppa the number of explosions increased, echoing around the valleys.  Suddenly I spotted plumes of smoke on the hills in the next valley. Daz realised there was an artillery exercise and we were seeing the shells impact.  

After lunch we continued but were undecided about what to do.   The nearest town of Sary Tash is still 20km away and it’s already nearly 4pm.  I’d like to camp but we don’t have much water.  Then we cycled into the most beautiful rolling, green countryside surrounded by mountains.   There were Yurts dotted everywhere with herds of goats, horses and yak (or perhaps weird shaped cattle).  

 Then we spotted the artllery dug in along the river bank on our left.  There were mortar pits and trenches not 20 metres from the public road.  We cycled passed 105 mm and 155 mm (maybe!?) artillery pieces, there were even a number of multi barrel rocket launchers being dug in along the roadside, a great show of Kyrgyzstan Armed Forces.  We managed to scrounge some water off the Army and then set up camp on the other side of the road.  

Lets hope there’s no night firing!  Fortunately there wasn’t any night firing but there was an evening display of their multi barrel rocket launchers firing onto the distant hills.  Most impressive.   

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The Pamir Highway: Hisor to Khorog -18th July to 1st August

Tuesday 18th July –   Hisor to Dushanbe
Distance:  29.04 km
Total Distance: 15149.06 km

A comfy night on the takhta and we brought breakfast.   How fabulous.   I could learn to love this treatment.

We even befriend the puppy with the cutest floppy ears, bribed by biscuits.  We take the back road to Dushanbe and stop to watch the maize stalks being cut by hand.  I give it a go and it’s certainly tough work.

As we near Dushanbe the traffic increases as does the frequency of the slow drive pass with a phone camera pointing at us.  In Dushanbe we check out the main sights.

Backed by a hazy phalanx of mountains, Dushanbe is a city in rapid transition. Its long, tree-lined central avenue still passes a collection of pastel-hued neoclassical buildings from its original Soviet incarnation. But much is threatened with the demolition ball as a whole new gamut of glitzy, oversized newcomers rise in a style that is often an intriguingly discordant blend of Roman triumphalism and budget futurism. The focus for this curious renaissance is a manicured central park dominated by a vast new museum and the world’s tallest flag pole. Around the edges, the city has plenty of musty Brezhnev-era apartment-block ghettos. Yet remarkably, especially given the city’s dangerous image during the 1990s’ civil war, today the atmosphere is one of unthreatening calm… perhaps not unrelated to the fact that so much of the male population are away working in Russia.

That done it’s time to buy a Tajik SIM and find WiFi so we can get the blog for Uzbekistan finished.  Then we head to Véro, our warmshower host.  It’s a while since we used Warmshowers and when we arrive we find a number of cyclists.  

Perhaps 12, with 5 tents pitched in the garden.  We need to pick their brains, who knows what we might discover about the Pamir Highway or even about other cycling experiences.

 

Wednesday 19th July – Dushanbe

Today we are having a rest day.  Last night we met Véro our host.  She is a legend of Warmshowers.  She is from France and works for the EU in Dushanbe.  She is a font of knowledge about the Pamir Highway,  having ridden the entire route twice and done many other trips in the area.  6 of the cyclists staying here have already done the Pamir Highway as they stsrted in Osh in the East.  So they also have lots of stuff to tell us.  We all share meals together and in the evening Véro does a full briefing of the route for us, Soren and Birgit (Danish) and Edith and Harry (Dutch).

It’s very detailed, giving us road conditions, places to shelter and places to find water and food.  We have a glass of wine or two then head to bed, tomorrow we start for the Pamirs.  Soren and Birgit will also be coming but Harry and Edithare spending a few extra days in Dushanbe.

 

Thursday 20th July –  Dushanbe to Takchtahamit
Distance:  71.0 km
Total Distance: 15220.06 km

After a shared breakfast we saying goodbye to Véro and everyone else, and with their good luck wishes ringing in our ears we set off.  Soren and Birgit have changed their minds and are gong to have another day off.  Having spoken with Birgit about their cycling we know she is worried about the ride, so maybe some nerves there!!  But we put our ’nerves’ to one side and enjoy the lovely cycle out of a very green and pleasant Dushanbe.

The first 20 km are flat or downhill then we start gradually climbing until we finish with a couple of steeper climbs at the end of the day.

We only set out to do 50km today, so our 71 km total has been a good push.  Hopefully those extra kilometers will come in handy when it gets really hard and we don’t manage a daily target!

We find a nice cool orchard and apart from a horde of kids watching us we relax for the evening.

 

Friday 21st July

Last night I was sick.  I’d been feeling unwell towards the end of yesterday’s cycling and couldn’t face eating any dinner. Finally I was sick at around 10pm and then had a few further false alarms during the night.  

I couldn’t face breakfast and didn’t have the energy to cycle so we had to stay put for the day.  We get quite a few visitors and most of the time we have a bunch of kids watching us but at least we have some shade.

 

Saturday 22nd July –  Takchtahamit to Darband
Distance:  73.87 km
Total Distance: 15293.93 km

We’re already seeing beautiful scenery but today we have our first section without tarmac.  It turns out to be one of many.

It’s hard going even on the downhill sections so the uphills are really tough.  At Obigarm we see the huge hydroelectric project on the river Vakhsh.

It’s being built by the Chinese and once the dam is complete it will take 10 years for the reservoir to fill. Whilst the reservoir fills there will be a reduced onward flow, depriving Uzbekistan of a major water source.  But this dam will make Tajikistan self sufficient in energy.  Because the Uzbeks are losing a water source they have denied Tajikistan their gas.

The temperature is still in the top 40s, hitting 50 but at least the nights are cooler.

 

Sunday 23rd July –  Darband to Shakhob
Distance:  27.43 km
Total Distance: 15321.36 km

Yesterday we camped by the big river on some open ground.  It was lovely and breezy, but by the time we got to bed the wind had died and the heat had built up.  I had quite a sleepless night.  I’d also ruined last night’s dinner with too much salt, that’ll teach Daz to leave me in charge whilst he mends another puncture. So this morning I was ready for porridge with no griping!

Today’s cycling can be summed up as follows: hot, hilly, dusty, hot, no shops, hot, gravel, sand and more dust… with a side order of more hills.  It was tough.  At one point as we crossed a stream falling down to the roaring river below we dunked ourselves in the cold waters,  several times! Delicious!   

We only managed 27 km (after the first 10km we said farewell to tarmac!) and finally pulled into a ‘restaurant’ next to a swimming hole.  Amazingly there was a storm brewing as well. This place is in the middle of nowhere and the next village is 37km away along more gravel so we decide that’s enough for today. We order some food, they only have soup, fried eggs and stale bread so it’s an easy choice, all of it please! Unfortunately it’s my least favourite soup in the world, unrecognisable meat on the bone in a thin broth.  Some people give us their left over watermelon and cucumbers, we are saved!  With the storm whipping the trees into a frenzy we decide to get a room, bedbugs and all.  Of course despite the incredibly hard cycling, the scenery has been truly stunning.

 

Monday 24th July –  Shakhob to Dekhai Khur
Distance:  50.11 km
Total Distance: 15371.47 km

We had a better day today; we actually think it’s because there were several villages and shops en route to feed our growing coke addiction.

It’s ridiculous but sadly we’re becoming quite dependent on the sugar rush of coke.  The scenery was spectacular,  always handrailing the river on our right, now the river Obikhingou.  At one point we spotted a river crossing – actually a suspended small cage powered by man power.  When we noticed it a man was being taken across with several of his sheep.

There were 2 sheep runs and then Daz went down to check it out.  It looked a bit precarious to me but Daz enjoyed it.

We also met 2 Dutch motorcyclists and had a chat about their travels.  It seems the visa nightmare is horrendous if you have a motorcycle!

 

Tuesday 25th July –  Dekhai Khur to Safedoron
Distance:  21.72 km
Total Distance: 15393.19 km

After a glorious night by the river, it’s hard getting started this morning.   Daz needs to check the trikes over and even decides to do some laundry so we don’t hit the road until 9am.  After a couple of kilometers beside the river we turn away to follow a tributary – the beginning of the pass.

Only 35km to the top at 3200 metres.  The scenery is breathtaking – we hope the pictures and videos speak for themselves.   The hills are a vibrant green and there are so many wild flowers growing beside the road.  The cycling – well it’s just very, very tough.

The roads are gravelly, sandy or stony with the occasional patch of tarmac and each pedal stroke is an effort.  But it’s worth the effort. Finally when we can go no further we camp on the hillside looking down into the valley.  It’s so beautiful.

 

Wednesday 26th July –  Safedoron to Kala-i Khumb
Distance:  46.86 km
Total Distance: 15440.05 km

Only 14km but it takes us 5 hours to hit Saghirdasht pass at 3252m.  Yup a staggering 3km/hr.  But we make it and once again the views are breathtaking.

There’s not much traffic today, we think it’s because the southern route has just been reopened.  But we are passed by some British motorcyclists who stop to say ‘hi’.  They hired their motorbikes over here – what a fabulous idea.  Then there’s a threesome on motorbikes – 2 Czechs and a Ukrainian.   They’re having serious problems with one of the bikes with blocked fuel filters due to the poor grade fuel.  Apart from them we have 3 4×4 and a lorry go by, a very traffic quiet day! We wanted to have lunch at the top but we’re just not strong enough so after 3 hours of slow climb we stop by a stream and cook noodles and some eggs we bought off a farmer. Just as we are finishing 2 French cyclists pass us – Lucy and Louis.

We see them again at the top, now they’re having lunch.  They’re lovely and we chat for ages before attempting the 35km descent to Kala-i Khumb.  Barely a decent patch of tarmac, just gravel, rocks and sand. There’s huge cliffs looming over us on one side and a raging river way down below.  It’s certainly tough on the trikes, particularly the brakes but we arrive safely in Kala-i Khumb.

As we near Kala-i Khumb we’re cycling beside the river which is an amazing azure.  Now to find a place to stay!!!  Not as easy as we imagined.  There’s a hotel – 80$ per room so we end up in a guesthouse sleeping on a balcony above the river for $6 each.

Note:  Daz has had 6 punctures in 7 days.  His rear tyre is a problem since someone sliced into it in Samarkand and his front right was puctured by a thread of wire which he thought he’d removed but there’s obviously a tiny bit left in the tyre, causing repeat problems .  He used Lezyne boots on both tyres but the plastic edge then punctured both tyres again, ruining an inner tube in the process.  As a result he’s replaced both these tyres with our 2 spares.  So now we only have his old tyres as emergency spares!

 

Thursday 27th July – Kala-i Khumb to Kevron
Distance:  17.85 km
Total Distance: 15457.9 km

 

We decide to have a lazy morning and don’t cycle out of town until 1pm by which time the temperature is already hitting 50 deg C.  As soon as we start we realise how tired we are!  We’re following the river Panj with Afghanistan on the other side of the river.  How surreal.  We cycle along the river valley with steep hills on either side.  

It’s depressingly hot, dry and brown after the beauty of the pass.  We only manage 17km but then chance upon a delightfully shaded orchard next to the river to camp.  There’s even fresh water for our wash.  

Friday 28th July – Kevron to Kurgovad
Distance:  43.89 km
Total Distance: 15501.79 km

 

We both slept well last night although I’ve been bitten numerous times but they’re not mozzy bites.  We get a relatively early start so it’s still only 27deg C but after a few hours we hit the upper 40s.  Thankfully we feel much stronger today which is a relief after our demoralising day yesterday.  We pass through several villages and we’ve seen 3 military camps already, guarding the Tajik/Afghan border.

 We find a nice windy plateau to camp for the night, but I daresay the wind will die shortly.  On the other side of the road from our campsite we can look down on the river and an Afghan village.

 It looks very primitive – even more so than the Tajik villages.  Earlier today we watched some Afghan farmers winnowing by hand.  Tossing up forkfuls of wheat to separate the grain from the chaff.  

Saturday 29th July – Kurgovad to Omurn
Distance:  36.26 km
Total Distance: 15538.05 km

This morning we descend into a very narrow valley with steep towering cliffs above us.  It’s incredibly dramatic.  The road is in particularly poor condition and very narrow but not as narrow as the road/ track that hangs precariously on a knife edge on the Afghanistan side.

 We  share our narrow track with a constant stream of articulated trucks which can be quite daunting – take on the truck or fall into the tumultuous river below.

  There’s been a steady stream of artics, some with trailers, since leaving Kala-i Khumb.  Occasionally we see the casualties, broken down trucks with their drivers covered in oil, surrounded by various tools and spare parts.  

This road certainly takes its toll on all vehicles that dare to use it. Finally we climb out of the gorge and here the Panj is joined by the Vanch and we turn south.  We stop for lunch at a truckers stop and have Lagman soup (noodles, vegetables and meat) and wait for Véro.

 She was our warmshower host in Dushanbe and she’s heading to Khorog for her own cycling trip but she’s bringing 2 new tyres that she got in Dushanbe for us. What a star!  As I said earlier we’ve used our 2 new spare tyres on Daz’s bike so now at least we’re not totally reliant on the 2 tyres we took off Daz’s bike.  

After the restaurant there’s a 1.5km climb and it’s steep but a lorry driver takes pity on us and indicates that we should hang on.  So we do and he takes great care as he tows us up the hill – bless him.  And then there’s a glorious stretch of tarmac – yup I can and do get excited over tarmac!!! We hit a small village.  There’s water and an ideal camping spot.  But the restaurant nearby charges us for the pleasure and then the Army decide it’s inappropriate for us to camp so close to Afghanistan and actually this is the closest we’ve been – only 100m and the river separate us.

Sunday 30th July – Omurn to Shidz
Distance:  54.70 km
Total Distance: 15592.75 km

There were no problems last night despite the close proximity to Aghanistan.  More tarmac led to better progress today although we did spend some time marvelling at some road construction by the Afghans.   We were first alerted by several explosions and pinpointed the source to a huge cliff face opposite, across the river, where construction workers were busy trying to connect the existing road by dynamiting and drilling out several sections of sheer rock.

 A huge undertaking I think.  There were also huge sections of extreme white, well grey, water on the Panj.  White water rafting here would be a huge adrenaline rush with the added bonus of being shot at by the Afghans.  

 

We also watched a Tajik footpatrol, one guy armed with a sniper rifle, the other two with AK47s.

 We find a lovely camping spot by the river but here the river is as placid as a lake so mozzies might be a problem but we’re too tired to look elsewhere.

Monday 31st July – Shidz to Sokhcharv
Distance:  63.69 km
Total Distance: 15656.44 km

 

A good night’s sleep for us both and a nice early start.  We handrailed the River Punj but it had the appearance of a huge lake.  The river valley has widened considerably and has far less steep sides giving more land for agriculture.  

 The area seems very productive cropwise unlike in the rest of the Punj Valley.  At Roshan (30km) the valley narrows again and the River  Bartang joins the Punj.  We stopped for an early lunch in Roshan and then took a dip in the Punj.  We’ve tried to psych ourselves into taking a dip before but it really is brown and uninviting.  But after Roshan there were some beautifully clear lagoons next to the fast flowing river.  Daz was convinced it would be warm but it was bloody freezing despite the high air temperatures – but it was refreshing.  

Then a final big push so we only have a short ride to Khorog tomorrow – and some well deserved days off.

Tuesday 1st August – Sokhcharv to Khorog
Distance:  30.83 km
Total Distance: 15687.27 km

We are woken in the early morning by lots of noisy trucks going by on the nearby road, but we soon drop back off.  When we finally surface we realise why it was so noisy.  A broken down car had all the trucks swinging around it and through the branches of the roadside trees!

It’s only 30 km to Khorog and the road is not too bad.  We pass a very quiet airport and then enter the town.

Now there is traffic everywhere and lots of hustle and bustle.  We are heading to the Pamir Lodge, a haven for cyclists passing through Khorog.  We get settled in and relish our first hot shower in days.  We are going to have a couple of days off here, do some admin and enjoy a rest before climbing further up into the Pamirs.  It’s been a beautifully stunning trip so far, and we haven’t seen the best bits yet.

 

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Uzbekistan: Samarkand to Tajikistan: Hisor – 10th to 17th July

Monday 10th July – Samarkand to Urtakishiak
Distance:  40.01 km
Total Distance: 14696.57 km

Today we have a late start.  We’re waiting for laundry, we publish the blog and Daz has to fix a flat tyre.  The tube has two 1 cm slits – bizarre. Perhaps it exploded in the heat.  It’s pretty unremarkable riding out of Samarkand but we stop for a great lunch. Out in the fields the locals are harvesting onions so we stop to help!

Then the hills start and the scenery becomes much more interesting.   We have a big hill to climb and we’re not sure whether there’ll be water so we stop in the last village of Urtakishiak to fill our reservoir.

 

We’re not sure how much further we’ll go but it’s still early.  We cycle out of the village and through a traffic police checkpoint and we’re cycling besides the river, a young lad running alongside us from the village.  Daz is behind me and suddenly he’s screaming in agony.  OMG I’m terrified.  I run back to him and he’s still howling and there’s blood all over his face.  He’s just been hit in the face by a stone. I initially think he means one flicked up off his wheel but he says someone down by the river threw a stone at him.  A very large stone.

He’s shaking but he won’t sit still but charges over to the concrete road barrier and starts yelling obscenities at the guys by the river bed.  There’s a truck down there and men are throwing large rocks from the river bed into the back of the truck.  It’s a good distance away.  I try and get Daz to sit until the shaking subsides.  His right cheek and lip are beginning to swell.  We head back to the police checkpoint, it’s only 800m back.  Fortunately there’s a couple of men collecting heather close to the incident who have heard Daz screaming and see his face.  They drive back to the traffic checkpoint, one’s a dentist and the other speaks some English.  At the checkpoint they call out the medics, send someone to collect the guilty men, and call out the town police.  One ambulance comes and they clean the wound; fortunately it’s a sizeable graze not a deep cut, and then dress it.  Then a second ambulance comes with a Doctor and a chef (a medic with a strange hat).   They take Daz’s blood pressure and pulse.

Then the police come and then the chief of the police comes.  So now there are about 12 policemen, a mix of traffic and town police. There’s the guilty men lined up by the police station and the young lad who was running beside us, even though we’ve said he wasn’t involved.  By this time we’ve been there over an hour and we want to push on.  From the group of ‘guilty’ men there’s one who admits to throwing the stone but he’s a cow man and he was throwing the stone at the cow.  He says he couldn’t see Daz and didn’t mean to hit him.  We don’t know if it was deliberate or not but it was an awesome throw.  He’s apologetic! Now it becomes a little odd.  If we don’t accept it was an accident the lad goes to jail and if we insist on leaving now we have to write a statement that we accept it was an accident and don’t hold anyone responsible.

 

 

All very difficult when there’s one guy acting as interpreter and his English isn’t that good.  At one point we seriously consider phoning Andy Strefford, DA Tashkent, but everything is resolved and we push on.  It’s getting late now so we push on for another 5km and then set up camp by the river.

Tuesday 11th July – Urtakishiak to Mevazor
Distance:  67.56 km
Total Distance: 14764.13 km

 

Daz doesn’t sleep well due to his facial injuries, but we are having a lie in until 6am today.  We are up in the hills and we really noticed the difference last night with the cool air instead of stifling heat,  so at least we were comfortable.

 After porridge and tea we continue climbing for another 13 kilometers until we reach the pass.  Tahtakaraca pass is 1788 metres high.  We stop to admire the view and are immediately swamped by stall holders and passers-by.

A couple of young lads who work the stalls ask if they can have a go. After the first one Daz warns them to keep it slow, but it’s lost in translation as the next guy races off and tries to corner to fast and tight. Over he goes, Daz is livid and sees red, especially after yesterday. He runs over, and tells the circling crowd to piss off and leave us alone. His bike is damaged, fortunately it’s just the bottle holder bent all out of shape and the mudguard scratched up.  We think we will stop people using them in future. If they bust a wheel we will be stuck!!

 

  After a smooth ish ascent the descent is very rough in places and we have to keep a wary eye out for potholes and cracked concrete. Apart from that the views are lovely across the flat plains in front of us.  After the descent it’s a flat ride into Sharizarb.  This is the birthplace of Amir Temur and he built his own tomb here. Unfortunately upon his death the people decided to inter him in another mausoleum in Samarkand.  The surrounding area looks and feels like a deserted holiday resort.

After a look around we head to the market for food and drink.  It’s another blistering hot day and we are starting to flag.  Fed and stocked up we cycle south and after about 5 km see a treeline of to the left of the road. Shade and a possible camp site. The first couple of hundred metres there are cows with the same idea but a little further on we manage to find a flattish spot and set up.  It’s 330pm. Hopefully the shade will last for the rest of the day.  After dinner we remove the dressing from Daz’s face and then remove all the sticky tape residue with alcohol – ouch bet that stings.  There’s still some swelling but it’s looking much better.

 We’re actually close to a farm house our tent is next to their orchard and between their tethered cows.  We’re hoping for an early night but we have many visitors.   First the lady of the house brings us cold yoghurt soup with cucumber.  Then the whole family visit and it seems the man of the house wants us to take çay with him.  So we head to the house with his wife and 2 daughters but bizarrely he heads off in the opposite direction.   Then the wife and girls run around to produce a feast for us.  OMG this is horrendous ; we’ve just had a huge bowl of pasta and now there’s melon, plums, biscuits sweets and freshly fried eggs.  And even worse they just sit and watch us eat!!  Eventually we make our excuses but we feel dreadful.  If I hadn’t just eaten I would have happily stuffed myself.   I also discovered how difficult it is to eat a freshly fried egg with my fingers.   When we got back to the tent the man turned up and wanted us to go to the house for tea… erm, we’ve just been and come back! Then he tries to give us a whole honeydew melon, but it would be wasted on us and we probably offend him when we give it back! Off he goes, peace at last.

 

Wednesday 12th July – Mevazor to Guzar
Distance:  70.90 km
Total Distance: 14835.03 km

Today it’s another 6am start.  The 4am starts are blissfully cool but because it’s so hot in the afternoon and evening it proves almost impossible to regain the lost sleep.

Cow milking

Today it’s pretty monotonous,  arid and flat and no cafes or shops.  So we do our 50km quota without any breaks.  As a result I feel drained but today Daz is strong.  We hit the town of Guzar and find a really busy restaurant and stop for a lovely leisurely lunch.  Tomato and cucumber salad, fresh bread, tomato dipping sauce, kebabs and water melon – on yeah and a couple of pots of green tea.  Cost – 4$.

We push on out of Guzar and about 10km further hit the river and in we go.  We wallow in the water, reading and just enjoying the novelty of being cool.  It’s bliss.  

   

We’re not sure where to camp but then we realise there’s a wall and tree on the other side of the river that’ll give us some nice shade, so that’s where we set up camp.

 

 

Thursday 13th July –  Guzar to Oqravot
Distance:  52.66 km
Total Distance: 14887.69 km

Forgot to mention yesterday Daz had a puncture on the rear wheel (the hardest to change!).  Whilst changing it and checking the tyre he noticed a hole had actually been sliced into the tyre, so our theory that in our Samarkand hotel the inner tube exploded is scotched.  Someone sliced into our tyre deliberately.   So he puts a repair boot on the tyre and puts a new inner tube in.  Anyway, we are up at 6 today, it’s cloudy hoorah and there’s even a spit of rain but it stops when we get up!  Today it’s all climbing, nothing massive, but a taste of things to come!   We do get pulled over for ‘selfies’ by a truck so we scrounge a lift off them.  It’s only for 10 km!!

Then it’s flat for a while but the sun returns.  We get to our 50km point for the day in a village.  It’s not much and the ‘eatery’ we visit serves us up a bowl of gristle, with some goat attached and a limp tomato onion salad, but the rock hard bread made up for it.

 

We fill our 10 litre water sack here and buy some drinks for later.  Unfortunately the next section of road is up hill.  With the added weight it’s a hard slog as we look for a camping site.  I firmly launch my teddy bear when I end up cycling a long hill with the 10L reservoir, that’s 10km done with the extra weight.  We reach the top and finally descend to a dusty village with a shop in it. Two cold beers please!! We don’t go much further, as we find a secluded but rocky spot under a bridge in the village to camp.  Shade at last.  So we’re sitting here under the bridge, writing the blog and reading and I actually feel like a homeless person; they’re always under bridges drinking Tennants Extra and that’s what we’re doing!!!

Friday 14th July –  Oqravot to Boysun
Distance:  51.4 km
Total Distance: 14939.09 km

OMG we have a lie in!  It’s so nice under the bridge with the trolls we don’t get up until 8 am! It might also be that we are shattered from the last 2 days of hills!  We wake to clouds and they stay all day, absolute bonus.  First order of the day climb the next hill, it’s a longish one and gravelled in places so it takes us a while and it’s only 2 and a half kilometers long.  

But there’s a surprise for us over the top, beautifully smooth tarmac, mostly downhill and a tailwind.   It takes us to the 20 kilometre mark and a police checkpoint and where we’re asked for passports but once checked we cycle on.

We pass some lovely villages but then we start climbing. And climbing.  Poor Daz is feeling rough today.  His face hurts, the inside of his mouth is really sore (shredded gums from the impact of the rock) and he’s got stomach cramps as well.  So he’s really suffering on the long slow climb into Boysun.  

A typical Uzbek/Kazakh/Azeri toilet.  Lovely!

But finally we arrive and find ourselves a hotel.  Time for a lovely hot shower, laundry,  and a little nap for poorly Darren, methinks!

Our stay in Boysun was marred by Daz’s ill health.   He felt dreadful all evening.  Symptoms :nausea,  exhaustion , stomach cramps, headachey and pain from mouth sores.  Although he didn’t have any appetite he felt he should eat but we struggled to find a restaurant open that actually had food.  A weird statement perhaps but you wouldn’t believe the number of restaurants we go into, appear open but actually have no food!  We finally found somewhere; another shaslik kebab and tomato and cucumber salad. And some bread which thankfully wasn’t the texture of a breeze block.  Back at he hotel after an abortive attempt to use the Internet which was woefully pathetic we give up and go to bed.

 

Saturday 15th July –   Boysun to Kurama (well 15km short)
Distance:  46.62 km
Total Distance: 14985.71 km

 

After a really good night’s sleep, I wake at 5am and try to use the Internet whilst everyone is still in bed but it’s still painfully slow.   Daz has slept well but once he’s awake frequent toilet visits are required.   I think he needs another day here but he won’t agree.  He’s worried we’ll struggle with the mileage to the Tajikistan border and not get out of Uzbekistan by 17th July, the last day of our visa.  

We’ve run low on our food staples; pasta, noodles, porridge and olive oil and we need cooking fuel.  We buy our denatured alcohol in pharmacies.  They all stock it but it’s only 70% and we’re not convinced of that!  It has to be relit repeatedly and still takes an age to just boil the kettle.   For breakfast, not supplied by the hotel, we find a lady deep frying dough parcels with potato in. They taste like savoury donuts, yummy.  

We need an envelope,  a post office and more local currency.   I’m busy discussing my needs with the hotelier, using Google translate, and result, he offers to take us in the car. I can only imagine he thought driving me was less painful than having to discuss it with the ignorant Brit!   Perfect.  We are so fortunate he took pity on us, we’d never have found these things left to our own devices.  Or if we had, it would have taken us hours.   At the post office they estimate our letter to the UK will probably take 15 days!  

Finally we hit the road and after Boysun we have the most incredible scenery.  Rock formations carved into unusual shapes from the wind and rain stretch away into the distance.   It’s breathtaking.  

It’s mostly downhill but there’s a long uphill but we manage to grab the back of a slow moving truck.  We’re refining this technique. As it passes us we speed up and Daz grabs on.   For fearless Daz it’s no big deal but for me, well it’s nerve wracking.  In order to get a hand grip on the area around the back bumper we have to have our legs under the rear of the truck.  At 40km we hit a major junction (well major for this part of the world) and there’s a public water tap which certainly attracts a constant stream of people.

 We take an hour’s rest in the local cafe.  Daz just lies out on takhta platform and tries to sleep.

 

He feels better after the break and having filled our water reservoir we push on and soon spot a reasonable camping spot.  It’s a good spot but we have an audience for most of the evening.  Four young boys, minding a nearby goat herd, squat and observe us relentlessly.   

Sunday 16th July –   Kurama (well 15km short) to Sariasiya
Distance:  63.25 km
Total Distance: 15048.96 km

 

This morning our gang of admirers return for another ‘Brit watching’ session.  It would appear we’re endlessly fascinating.   Daz is woken by a toilet emergency / accident and bolts out of the tent just before 5am and continues to be plagued by stomach problems so we’re fortunate that the ride to Denov isn’t too demanding.  The ride into Denov is incredible, eveyone seems incredibly pleased to see us.  All the drivers beeb their horns, people are waving and calling out to us.   We’re waving at everyone, shouting hello and sounding our horn.  The mood is infectious,  like finishing a London Marathon.  The streets of Denov are a mass of humanity, all shopping in the Bazaar.  

After a food stop we head to the Eurasia Hotel.  We think we might stay the night but it’s $60 a night and he’s not willing to negotiate.   Instead we use their internet and then push on to Sariasiya where we find an abandoned building and stop for the day.  We have numerous visitors throughout the afternoon and evening, and we’re brought bread, grapes, apples, corn on the cob, sour milk, cold tea and a jar of preserved fruit.

 

 

Monday 17th July –   Sariasiya Uzbekistan to Hisor Tajikistan 
Distance:  71.06 km
Total Distance: 15120.02 km

 

Today we will cross into Tajikistan.   The 20 kilometres to the border is uneventful and the border crossing very quiet.

 We cycle to the barrier where they check our passports.  Then we cycle to the customs area.  We leave our trikes outside and go inside with all our luggage which is x-rayed.  They don’t look through any bags and only have a quick look at the photos on our camera – they don’t check our Notepad nor our phone.  And we’re through!  Well I am.  I’m loading my trike when I realise Daz hasn’t come out with me.  Then he calls me – they want to see our Registration slips.  Damn! We know we haven’t followed the “Register every 3rd night” rule).  I go back in with the slips.  He checks our slips but doesn’t comment on the missing slips.  And we’re out.  Well that was certainly a lot quicker and easier than we expected.  Then we cycle up to the Tajikistan border crossing and show our passports and visas.  And we’re in.  Now we’re in Tajikistan we need some money.  We want to change our remaining Uzbek Som, 155,000 (about $19) into Tajik Som.  Ahhh it’s definitely a more sensible currency here.  We change our large wad of notes for 150 Tajik Som.  We stop for a drink and chat to 2 young guys in the shop and then we head off.

 It’s already 11.30am and we’ve only done 22km.  We decide to head into the nearest town, Turzunzoda, for food.  Just after turning off the main road, which by the way is in very good condition after the Uzbek roads, we are passed by a white mini van.  It does a u turn and drives up besides us as we cycle along.  They shout out the window offering us breakfast, as we are hungry we agree and meet them about 1 km down the road at a restaurant. Farrukh, Islom, Salohiddin and Faiziddin are partners in a construction company and are fascinated by our trikes.  We enjoy a fabulous Tajik meal of plov and salad followed by watermelon.  Farrukh speaks very good English, but none of the others do, so there’s lots of translating and questions going on.  

They invite us to come to their town, Hisor, but it’s 42km away.  We hum and haw and decide we will try to get there, but can’t promise anything.   Fortunately the town is on the route to Dushanbe, and after a few undulations it’s mainly flat.  A canal runs beside the road and there are lots of kids swimming.  When they see us coming they all race to the roadside to wave and shout hello! There are vineyards, cotton and sweet corn in the nearby fields and beyond, the hills of Tajikistan.

   A few hot, sweaty hours of cycling and there’s our turning to Hisor.  There’s a peculiar building on the outskirts of the town.it looks like a stranded blimp but it’s a restaurant designed by the Chinese.  

In Hisor we chance upon an English teacher.  We ask him where we can find a beer and he takes us to a nearby pub.  A Tajik pub is certainly like no pub you’ll find in the UK.  Men come in, order, and down their drink in seconds, be it a pint of beer or a shot of vodka and then leave.  There’s no long, relaxing drinking sessions here.  But this is a Muslim country; 90% Sunni Muslim, the remainder Shiiat, so I guess the majority don’t drink??

Whilst we drink a beer or 2, we contact Farrukh and tell him where we are and meanwhile our English teacher, Hikmatulla, acts as interpreter.  After about 30 minutes Farrukh and his team arrive.  He’s going to organise a van and within minutes one turns up and we load on the trikes.

 

 Then we drive out to Hisor fortress.  Hissar fortress is the ex residence of Bek – a deputy of Bukhara emir. The fortress walls were 1 meter thick and had gun slots for rifles and cannons. Inside of the fort was a garden and water pool. Stairs and brick terraces led to the main entrance but unfortunately they were lost with time as well as the palace building.   The only part that remains till our days are the monumental gates built of burnt bricks with two cylinder towers and lancet arch between them. This type of architecture is typical for most of Bukhara buildings built within XVIII-XIX cc.

 

Hisor was an ancient Tajik city at an important crossroads of the Silk Road. West to Bukhara, East to China and South to India.  At the fortress the trikes are unloaded and Farrukh and Faiziddin cycle around on the trikes then take us up into the fortress.  From the top of the hill you can see the verdant valley all around and the passes leading towards the other silk road destinations.  It’s a beautiful spot and we wouldn’t have visited were it not for meeting Farrukh.   

Sightseeing done and Farrukh takes us to a nearby restaurant owned by his aunt’s husband.  We order food, Lagman soup for me and Daz followed by fried fish.  

We talk about travelling, our impressions of the ‘Stans and Farrukh’s impressions of Europe.  It’s an eye opener.  He thinks Europe is sterile and boring.  Everyone is just focussed on work and then going home and locking their door behind them.  In Tajikistan (and actually probably all the countries since Turkey) life is about family, the extended family, friends and the community and sharing.  

And we Europeans tend to look at these countries as if they’re less fortunate than us.  As the evening progresses more friends of Farrukh join us.  They are so curious about us and why we’re travelling by bike and sleeping in a tent instead of a car and posh hotels.  We explain it’s the only way to meet people and have the incredible experience we’re enjoying right now!  It really is a fabulous night.  It’s getting late and Farrukh says we can sleep at the restaurant on the takhta platforms.   Sounds perfect and so that’s what we do once we’ve said farewell to our first Tajik friends.  Wow what an amazing first day in Tajikistan.

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Uzbekistan: Nukus to Khiva, Bukhara, Samarkand and Tashkent – 21st June to 9th July

Wednesday 21st June – Nukus to Chilpyk (Bashnya Molchaniya)
Distance:  54.99 km
Total Distance: 14089.97 km

This morning my Va-va-vroom just ain’t there.  I feel absolutely shattered and I desperately want to sleep but breakfast calls.  We’ve already decided where we’re camping tonight and it’s only 50km so after breakfast we hit the Number 1 (actually the only one according to Trip Advisor ) venue of  Nukus.

Few Museums in the Republic of Uzbekistan can boast of such a unique collection of paintings by Russian artists as The Karakalpakstan State Museum of Art named after I.V. Savitsky (“Savitsky Museum”).  According to experts and the world press, this collection is the best art collection in the Asian region and has the world’s second-largest collection of Russian avant-garde.

We don’t usually ‘do’ museums and now I remember why – we’re suitably underwhelmed but what do we know about art???  Then having packed up we head out of Nukus just in time to catch a thunderstorm with lots of lightning but very little rain.  

We cycle through the desert and it’s as interesting as our Kazakh desert experience – so not at all interesting but it warms up nicely to 42.7 deg C.  We’re obviously not as appealing to the Uzbeks as no one pulls us over for photo shoots although we are photographed by passing cars and one in particular drives alongside me taking pictures and then nearly runs me off the road when he’s done.  Finally we spot our destination but we need food and water.  We push on for another couple of kilometers, there’s a shop there, we’ve been told (the first since we left Nukus).  But it’s not a shop it’s a restaurant.   There’s loud music and a group eating and dancing.  I’m too tired for this.  Fortunately the proprietor agrees to sell us some provisions from her stores and we try and escape but first we dragged onto the dance floor.  

So we join in and they absolutely love that we’re dancing with them and then we leave and they all come out to take photos.  All done and we take a track back to our ‘campsite’.  It’s beneath the Tower of Silence.

Zoroastrian Burial Practices are of special interest. Bodies were placed on high hills or man-made summits and exposed to scavengers who soon stripped the bones clean. The bones were then preserved in containers known as ossuaries. A high place where the bodies were laid out was known as a Tower of Silence. One such Tower of Silence is located on the right bank of the Amu Darya River northeast of Khiva.

We find a spot below the Tower and set up camp.  Pasta for dinner and then a walk up to the Tower to investigate. As we’re sitting within the Tower walls enjoying a beer as the sun sets, a large group of children arrives.  They’re all wearing the same Karate club T-shirts and pull a kata stance for a photo.

Then we head downhill debating the temperature – it’s 8pm and still a sweltering 33 deg C.  We have our ritual bucket wash and realise we’re in a mosquito zone, there’s lots of standing water nearby – bad camping site selection.

We retire to bed and zip ourselves in to keep the mozzies out.  By midnight the temperature in the tent drives me outside.  I’ll get bitten but at least I won’t be dripping with sweat.  Finally we agree, inner sleeping pod and fly unzipped and Doom coil burning just inside.  Daz is worried we’ll set ourselves and the tent on fire, but seriously that couldn’t be any hotter than the temperature inside the tent with the inner sleeping pod zipped up.

 

Thursday 22nd June – Chilpyk (Bashnya Molchaniya) to Gulen

Distance:  74.70 km
Total Distance: 14164.17 km

Not surprisingly we’re awake by 7am.  Without shade it soon gets hot in the tent.  We check the temperature at breakfast and it’s already 31deg C.  We head off and once off the sandy track and back on the main road we make good progress to Beshtom and stop to replen our water and have a drink.

Then we turn off the main road, A380, onto the backroad.  Kezim (our driver to the Aral Sea) told us not to take the backroad because of its terrible condition ; gravel, potholes etc but Beth and Max went this way.  It’s not long until we cross the huge river, Amudaryo, on a rather ramshackle pontoon bridge.

Then at Mangit we stop for lunch; samosas for me and Borak (meat dumplings in a broth) for Daz.  And a pot of tea each. After lunch there’s still 40km to our destination but we’re blessed because there’s not a head wind, instead sometimes a tailwind and sometimes from the side.  We’re stopped at a checkpoint for a passport check.  The condition of this road is pretty good, only a couple of bad stretches and it’s far more interesting than yesterday’s ride with several villages en route and people busy working in the fields.

At Gulen we stop for our provisions; no milk.  Oh dear no cups of tea (we have 2 at breakfast and often 2 in the evening)  but also no porridge for breakfast (hurrah!).  OK now we’re ready to set up camp but we can’t find a decent spot.

Just a few flies!

 

Baking flatbreads

 

Finally someone takes pity on us and allows us to use his farmyard.  The flies are horrendous but at least there’s a real toilet and a shaded area for our tent.  And they let us use a seating area/table to prepare our dinner.  They also bring çay, cucumber and a plate of melon and let us watch their bread baking.

 

Friday 23rd June – Gulen to Khiva
Distance:  56.60 km
Total Distance: 14220.77 km

Wow another night without much sleep.  We seem to cope quite well cycling in the heat but unfortunately the uncomfortable, hot nights are taking their toll.  We’re both into serious sleep deprivation especially Daz who can ratchet up a good 12 hours each night but since leaving Beyneu he’s had a fraction of that!

Scrambled eggs for breakfast and then back on the road.  We soon see numerous flooded paddie fields with groups of women planting the young rice plants.  I decide we should ‘assist’.  Ha ha – I’m sure we’re more a hindrance but everyone is keen to help and take photos and are very excited by our presence .

 

I struggle into the field, bunch of rice plants clutched in my sweaty mitt.   OMG it’s so much deeper than I expected and I’m sinking in the thick mud.  I plant my allocation but I’m a clumsy, stumbling buffoon compared to the women who seem quick and agile even in the thick mud.  I’m offered more rice plants but we politely decline and after a photo session head on.  The road is terrible for long stretches; huge potholes everywhere, impossible to weave around with 3 wheels.  Crossing a river we see 2 men fishing but there’s 8 rods out.  We stop to investigate but their catch is secured in a keep net down in the river.  We watch for awhile and I’m rewarded by a sighting of 2 kingfishers flying over the water.  

We push on and the rest of the day is really a teeth gritting experience.   We’re tired and we just want sleep.  Our tendency is to dawdle but today, as yesterday,  I try and push the pace a little.  There’s no point being out in this heat longer than necessary.   In Uzbekistan people want to speak to us and photograph our trikes but they do it whilst driving alongside us.  A little dangerous perhaps but at least we don’t need to keep stopping.  We stop at a shop for a cold drink and the lady brings us chairs (the bench we’re on is dirty apparently)  and glasses.  At our next stop the lady proprietor is a retired English teacher and she’s very happy to meet us.  We have more drinks but she doesn’t allow us to pay.  This is definitely a farming area.  Rice fields being planted; wheat being harvested; bailing with baling machines that should be in a museum and trailers of straw bales.  

The donkey and cart are numerous, their only method of transport.   Finally we arrive in Khiva.

Saturday 24th June

Khiva
Distance:  0 km
Total Distance: 14220.77 km

Roaming through the centuries in Khiva, Uzbekistan.   Hazel Plush – travel writer – the Guardian.

Halfway up Juma minaret, I knew I’d made a grave mistake. It had seemed such a good idea to climb the spire – the highest point in Khiva – to get a wide-angle view of the city. What better way to take in the star of the Silk Road, Uzbekistan’s Unesco-listed treasure, than from the tower of its 10th-century mosque?

But I was no match for the spiral staircase. It corkscrewed up in the dark, its steps no deeper than a toehold and little wider than my aching thighs. Outside, Khiva sizzled in the midday sun, as magnificent as ever in its two millennia of history – but alone inside the shaft of its loftiest point, I was having a meltdown.  I scrambled up, grabbing blindly at the wooden stairs with sweaty hands, humming a wild tune – trying, and failing, to quell the rise of claustrophobia. Eventually, the staircase opened up into a pool of light: at last! But after the panic of the climb, the summit was overwhelming, a panorama too wide, too bright and far too high to take in.

I should have marvelled at the jade dome of the mausoleum below, a voluptuous, vibrant jewel among the mud burial mounds. I should have spotted the bands of turquoise and gold tilework on nearby Kalta Minar minaret, the patterns sparkling under the cloudless sky. But instead, on the viewing platform no bigger than a dining table for four, I sweated and swore – and beat a hasty, shaky retreat.

 



It wasn’t an auspicious start. I had come to wander around the city; to soak up its sights on an otherwise whistlestop tour of Uzbekistan. But now, with trembling legs, I could only slump in the shade of a mulberry tree.

At the minaret’s base, a group of Uzbek tourists bartered lyrically with a leathery-faced hawker; a carved wooden Quran stand was their quarry. It looked nice, not like typical souvenir tat. He shuffled up and flashed me a wonky grin. “Tablecloth? Carpets?” I shook my head. Maybe later – if my knees would allow.  Shopping isn’t just a sideshow in Khiva: it forms its very foundations. The city was a vital Silk Road stop-off where the sale of camels, carpets, coffee and concubines shaped capitalism as we know it. As the famous trade route between China and Europe flourished, Uzbekistan became hot property: between 2BC and the 1300s it was seized by Arab invaders, captured by Mongolian warlord Genghis Khan, then finally overthrown by Amir Timur – whose empire stretched from Iraq to India.



“Khiva has been destroyed and rebuilt seven times,” my guide Inez explained later over bowls of steaming kuk-choy – green tea. We were reclining in Mirzaboshi teahouse, in typical Uzbek style, on a kind of table-bed – propped up on piles of colourful cushions with our teapot perched on a platform at the centre. Welcome respite after the morning’s misadventures.

“Now, the city is protected. 3,000 people live within its walls, but you can’t buy property here – land has to be passed down through families.” Inez, without such an ancestral claim, must live outside the city walls. Does she mind? “No – it’s better. I have my garden. I can decorate. Here, you need permission from Unesco.”
For all its might, Khiva is actually quite a small city, and easily walkable (leg injuries not withstanding) – but its centre is a warren. Inez and I ambled through the narrow streets under the shade of umbrellas, pausing in dusty entranceways to admire the smooth, swirling patterns etched into wooden doors.



The entire city has a muted colour palette, but what it lacks in diversity it compensates for wildly with vibrancy and depth. Rich navy, bruised indigo, and the kind of turquoise that’s usually reserved for swimming pools and Caribbean coves – those are the blues that sing out from  almost every surface, thanks to ceramic tiles embedded in the buildings’ outer walls like jewels. It’s a sumptuous foil for the unwavering ochre of mud bricks.



Khiva’s local visitors far outnumber its western ones – and the crowds from Uzbekistan and neighbouring ’Stans were a jolly, high-spirited bunch. “Urushmoq!” they cried as they clashed plastic souvenir swords, reenacting the battles of their forefathers. “War!”

In the arched entrance of Pahlavan Mahmud Mausoleum, I encountered my first Uzbek bride and groom, sweating in a tuxedo and full-blown white meringue dress – train, tiara and all. “They all come here for wedding photos,” said Inez, with a bemused grin. For her own wedding, she’d run off to the mountains for a quiet ceremony – no glossy photocalls, no fuss, and no big white dress.

The older ladies sported rows of gold teeth: ‘It’s a savings plan for the future,’ said Inez, flashing three of her own golden dentures
With two photographers and a gaggle of relatives in tow, the couple moved through the open-air mausoleum, pausing and posing demurely. A loving kiss beneath a mosaic archway; a shy cuddle in the flowerbed. I wondered what Pahlavan Mahmud – the 13th-century wrestler, poet and philanthropist for whom this palatial catacomb was built – would make of it all.

In the shade of a wooden portico, they drew sacred water from a tiny well. “It’s horribly salty,” chuckled Inez as they clinked cloudy wine glasses and swigged it down with a grimace.



We took off our shoes and slipped into the mausoleum’s dark mosque, relishing the cooler air. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, yet more of the city’s shades of blue unfurled: floral motifs snaked up the walls and up into the lustrous dome, their blooms intertwined with golden stars and squares. The full effect was hypnotic, but up-close I could see every brushstroke.

Inez led me to Matyoqub Matyoqubov, a softly-spoken artist who sells hand-painted ceramic tiles in his tiny workshop close to Kalta Minar. “They have been crafted by the same families for hundreds of years,” he whispered as I held a weighty square in my palm, glazed and shiny on one side and rough on the other. “This was made by the great-great-grandsons of the men who created Khiva’s original tilework.” Its twisting patterns crept across the clay like cerulean ivy.

Outside, silken suzanis – needleworks – billowed in the hot breeze like an exotic washing line. “Haggle hard,” advised Inez as I cooed over them, goaded on by a gaggle of Uzbek women. With their help, I negotiated the price of a hand-stitched cushion cover down to $15 – a little over the odds, perhaps, but a small price to pay for the jolly banter of this band of ladies, swathed in bright dresses and sequined headscarves.

In her mid-forties, Inez is part of a generation that has seen incredible change. Her parents grew up in Soviet Uzbekistan, part of the Soviet Republic. In the 1920s, when the Silk Road glory had long faded – eclipsed by sea transportation and European empires – Uzbekistan had turned to the USSR for strength and stability.

It was a freedom of sorts: the population suddenly had access to secular education and travel, and as the USSR prospered so did Uzbekistan.

In the 1960s, that prosperity was ploughed into a widespread restoration of the country’s Silk Road sites. Although communist ideology forbade religious iconography, the Soviets respected the artistic and scientific legacy of the Arab and Mongolian conquerors. The mosques were repaired; the mausoleums rebuilt; the madrasahs – religious schools – were raised from the dust.
After independence in 1991, work continued – and now, like a Hollywood movie star, the country’s main attractions are eternally fresh-faced.

But independence wasn’t embraced by everyone. “Life became hard,” said Inez with a frown. “People were used to receiving the same wage, having help – but suddenly they could earn more money and have private businesses.” Was it difficult to adapt? “Yes. Young people know what to do, but old people like my parents struggle. Now, young people move to Tashkent, or abroad – it is a shame.”
At 5.30pm sharp, the shops shut and the tourists departed; and the 3,000 Khivans, presumably, went home for dinner. So did Inez: back to her husband, to their house outside the city walls. I was alone, and free to explore as I pleased.

Khiva could be dismissed as a living museum: too polished and preserved to be authentic. No wrinkles. But there’s magic in it still. Even though I hadn’t been brave enough to soak up that minaret panorama, down here the alchemy unfurled before my eyes. As the sun dipped, clouds of swallows soared, filling the reddening sky with life. I inhaled the sweet scent of the departing day and strolled on, throbbing legs long forgotten  – roaming through the centuries in this deftly-preserved slice of Central Asia.

 

Sunday 25th June

Khiva
Distance:  0 km
Total Distance: 14220.77 km

So over 2 days we’ve shopped in the Bazaar;

 

enjoyed the sights of Khiva; wandered the numerous alleys of the Old Town; met Magda, Coco and Perry (cyclists from our Caspian Sea crossing)  and chatted to various other travellers including a lovely couple, Dave and Shannon, on their way from Australia to Reading (UK).

 

We’ve done our admin; struggled with atrociously  poor WiFi and even sought the only 2 geocaches in Khiva and finally got rid of our last trackable which we’ve had for months.   

We’ve also watched the carpet weavers making silk carpets.  2 ladies, 4 months to produce incredibly beautiful hand woven carpets worth $2500.  When I was told months ago to look at the number of knots per square inch I had no idea that every single knot is individually with a kind of crochet needle.  We also see woodcarvers making intricate designs on Koran holders, chopping boards, walking sticks and other wooden implements.  There’s also numerous hat stalls selling fur hats from fox and lynx or big wool hats not dissimilar to Brian May’s big hair.

 It’s been a beautiful place to visit but tomorrow we go forth to Bukhara via Navoiy.

 

Monday 26th June – Khiva to Navoiy
Distance:  32.64km
Total Distance: 14253.41 km

We’ve only got a short cycle ride today so we have a last stroll around the old town and decide if it’s good enough for Hazel Plush, it’s good enough for us and climb one of the minarets.  The steps are so high I have to go up on all fours, using the step above to pull myself up.  There’s no hand rail or bannister.  A few photos from this panaroma and back down the steep stairs.  Really tough and so I resort to sliding from step to step on my arse; like we did as kids. Then we pack and leave.  Just one more stop going out of Khiva; the train ticket office.

We visited Saturday but she couldn’t sell us tickets because our passports were in our hotel.  We told her we’d return the following day.  Sunday the office was open, the same ticket seller but no ticket purchase possible because it’s Sunday and they’re shut for ticket sales.  We ask if she’s open Monday, what time etc.  She says ‘yes, open, 10-5’ but in fact it’s completely closed today with padlocks still on the door.  Arghhhhh so annoying. It’s more reassurance for us if we have the ticket and can see date and time of departure.   But it’s not to be so we push on to Urgench. It’s pretty uneventful,  well totally uneventful.   In fact the most exciting part is when Daz map reads us down the back streets of Urgench to the train station and instead of a level crossing, over the railway line, we have to carry the bags and trikes over half a dozen raised railway tracks.

The railway station, as in Nukus, is a smart, well-appointed modern building with many security checks.

First a document check.  Then inside the building an xray scan of all bags.  And then a final check with ticket and passport.  There’s long queues and people everywhere but that’s because the first train Urgench to Tashkent is due shortly (2.40pm).  Daz goes off to buy our tickets (70,000 SOM each) but for the 7pm train.  We could get the 2.40pm but it arrives in Navoiy at 1am, our train will arrive at 6am.  So we’re hoping the later train will be cooler and more sleep inducing.  So with 5 hours to kill we go off to find lunch; it’s kebab, salad and tea.  Then we need Internet to finalise some business with the UK.  There’s Internet in the station but it’s horrendously slow and then it crashes.  Well that’s bloody unfortunate.   About 2 hours later, having checked periodically,  there’s a glimmer of a signal and connectivity but our train has just arrived.  We have about an hour to load our stuff on before it departs so Daz is chomping at the bit to get sorted whilst I have several emails that demand a response today but every attempt to download the attached documents fails.   I scrabble to write my excuses and then rush off to help Daz.  He’s already loaded his own trike and bags, aided by a trusty train official, so we just need to get my stuff on.

We store the bikes as we did on the last train, on their back end, bungied to a door.  On the last train we had a whole compartment to ourselves so plenty of room for our bags.  This evening we’re sharing with 2 men and we have the top bunks. Most of the luggage racks are already full so our bags are spread over a considerable area, wherever we can find space to jam them in.  At 7.30pm we set off.

 

 

There’s a mattress on our bunk and we’re given a clean sheet and pillowcase in exchange for our tickets and then we sleep or read for the next 11 hours.

Tuesday 27th June – Navoiy to Qiziltepa
Distance:  59.78km
Total Distance: 14313.19 km

Well surprisingly I slept a lot and I’m shocked when Daz shakes me awake at 6am.  Meanwhile he’s barely slept and has been suffering with an upset tummy.  We return our sheets in exchange for our tickets; an overnight train journey equals hotel registration.   We get our bags down to the end of the carriage and soon get everything unloaded once we stop in Navoiy.  It’s only 6.30am so it’s still quiet on the streets.

We head to the Hotel Grand. Why? Because it’s breakfast time and because posh hotels equal excellent Internet.  They’re more than happy for us to have breakfast and use their Internet but breakfast is 15$ each.  Blimey that’s extortionate but if we pay in SOM it’s half that because we’re getting double the official rate on the Black market.  And actually we’re only charged half again when we do pay – so 3.50$ for 2 breakfasts, loads of tea and coffee, fried egg on toast and excellent Internet.

After cycling out of Navoiy it’s the typical hot, flat, featureless terrain we’re becoming so well acquainted with.  We stop at the site of a Caravanserais but there’s not much there to hold our interest.  

At 60 km we stop for lunch.   The only thing he’s serving is ‘samsa’ ; a meat pasty.  We’ll have 4 of those then please and çay with milk.  But he hasn’t understood our milk request and brings us a big bowl of ayran (salty yoghurt) each.  We drank this a lot in Turkey but feel happier if it’s delivered in the sealed yoghurt pots not out of a reused coke bottle.  Yup it’s probably not pasteurised and Daz’s upset stomach has continued to bubble and spasm throughout the day, so possibly not the wisest selection.  After lunch it’s still early (1pm) and we could push on but I spot a derelict building.  Hurrah, shade and a fairly private spot.  I set up whilst Daz goes to village for water and provisions.

It’s a restful afternoon and an opportunity for Daz to have a nap after his rough night on the train.  Well it would be but sadly his cramping / gurgling stomach has worse in store and ‘Delhi belly’ strikes again.  Poor Daz.

 

Wednesday 28th June – Qiziltepa

This morning we’re awake by 7am.  Despite all the shade offered by the buildings we still managed to pick a spot hit by the early morning sun.  It’s so early we decide to move the tent and enjoy a lazy morning and a relaxed breakfast.   I know currently our plans don’t fill our 30 days in Uzbekistan so I suggest a complete rest day.  Daz barely ate last night and what he did it eat sent his stomach back into spasms.  After considerable discussion we decide to stay put although late morning another tent repositioning is required because we appear to be in the path of a sand blaster.  The wind has picked up and there’s sand and grit flying into our tent.  So a day of reading and sleeping.  There’s no Internet to distract us either.  Bliss.  At about 6pm Daz cycles into the village for food and water but apart from that it’s very restful.  We do have a frequent visitor.  He was here yesterday afternoon.   He arrives on his donkey, works in the nearby fields before riding home.  He seems a little upset by our presence.   We’re not sure if he’s offering to share his home or whether he thinks we should be in the nearby guesthouse.   Whatever his problem, we stay put.

 

Thursday 29th June – Qiziltepa to Bukhara
Distance:  63.50 km
Total Distance: 14376.69 km

After considerable napping yesterday I didn’t think we’d sleep last night.  But we did.  I wake at 5am and we’d planned for this eventuality.   So we’re up, packed, one cup of coffee and on the road by 6am.  Uzbekistan is a much kinder beast at this hour with the low sun casting beautiful shadows.

The landscape looks so much prettier without the bleaching ferocity of the midday sun and there are people everywhere manning their roadside stalls.  We push hard, enjoying the cooler temperature,  and blessed with a tailwind we cover 60km in 3 hours and reach our destination Bukhara.

We’re well chuffed, although a little peckish to say the least.  First stop a posh hotel.  We order a latte (that’s how posh this hotel is – 90$ a night), use their WiFi and find a hotel in our price bracket.  $20.  Then scrub up and hit the streets for some sightseeing.

Central Asia’s holiest city, situated on the Silk Road,  Bukhara has buildings spanning a thousand years of history, and a thoroughly lived-in old centre that hasn’t changed too much in two centuries. It is one of the best places in Central Asia for a glimpse of pre-Russian Turkestan.



Most of the centre is an architectural preserve, full of madrassas, minarets, a massive royal fortress and the remnants of a once-vast market complex. Government restoration efforts have been more subtle and less indiscriminate than in flashier Samarkand, and the city’s accommodation options are by far the best and most atmospheric in the country.


Until a century ago Bukhara was watered by a network of canals and some 200 stone pools where people gathered and gossiped, drank and washed. As the water wasn’t changed often, Bukhara was famous for plagues; the average 19th-century Bukharan is said to have died by the age of 32. The Bolsheviks modernised the system and drained the pools, although it’s most famous, Lyabi-Hauz, remains a cool, mulberry-tree shaded oasis at the heart of the city.

 

Friday 30th June – Bukhara to Qiziltepa
Distance:  59.61 km
Total Distance: 14436.3 km

A whistle stop tour of Bukhara (definitely worth the effort) yesterday followed by an evening of music, lights and many ladies in fancy dresses promenading around the central square.

Very pleasant. Today we hit the road again.  Cosmic balance dictates that since we cycled in the cool hours of the morning yesterday,  today we must leave when it’s really hot.  Actually it’s due to a laundry fuck-up.  Our stinky clothes should have gone to the laundry fairy yesterday but the laundry fairy didn’t take them until 7am this morning so we have to wait until 12 for their return.

We need to head back to Navoiy but we’ve found a different route.  We’re praying the road will be in good condition but the road fairy, like the laundry fairy is against us.  The first 20km out of Bukhara is good quality tarmac and then the tarmac ends and we have gravel and potholes and more potholes and to add insult to injury a stiff head wind.  At least we have plenty of opportunities to do our ‘bandit’ impressions as we pull our buffs over our nose and mouth in all the dust clouds created by the traffic.

Despite the bad conditions it’s actually a pleasant ride with plenty of people waving, shouting greetings, taking photos and generally enjoying the bizarre spectacle of 2 Brits on trikes; cycling in the midday heat.  What’s that saying about mad dogs and English men??????  About 4pm it hits 44.3 deg C.

A strange phenomenon in Uzbekistan is the plethora of petrol stations but strangely most are closed/ abandoned or dysfunctional – who knows which.  But where there’s a working petrol station the queues are huge.

We’re nearing our destination and 2 young lads join us.  (Just an aside. Cyclists in Uzbekistan are a common sight.  Not leisure cyclists on top of the range racing or mountain bikes but the locals using bikes as their main mode of transport.  Often they have their wife side saddle on the back rack, or children on the cross bar, or carrying considerable unwieldy loads, corn etc.  In the UK these bikes would be relegated to the local scrapheap.  They have bald tyres, buckled wheels, no brakes or gears and issue squeaks, rattles and grating noises.  But these guys don’t use the road, they stick to the ‘hard shoulder’ – a mass of thick sand or stones,  considerably worse than the horrendous roads!)  Anyway these 2 lads are cycling beside us on the hard shoulder and to be honest I’m bored of taking the head wind so I swap with the taller of the lads.  20km later……no I’m kidding.

 

 

But he did do a couple of kilometers for me and I got to ride his bike with no gears, no brakes and handlebars that slid into a new position if I lent on them too much.  Sadly the other lad was just too short even for my trike.  An entertaining interlude and not long after we arrive in Qiziltepa and return to our camping spot of 2 nights ago.  

It’s already 7.30pm, so a bite to eat, a cup of tea, a wash and bed.

 

Saturday 1st July – Qiziltepa to Navoiy
Distance:  61.68 km
Total Distance: 14497.98 km

Today we implement our cunning plan.  More cunning than a cunning thing! We start with a 4am reveille.   It was at this point the plan almost failed on first contact (with me).  OMG what’s that noise?  An alarm?  But it’s still dark!  However, since it was my plan I had little choice than pretend I was game.  So up we got, packed, cup of tea, a bite to eat and on the road for 4.45am.  Still dark so bike lights required.

We cycled through the village of Qiziltepa, which even at this hour was already busy.  People walking to the market with a sheep or a cow on a twine lead beside them.  We stopped on a flyover to watch sunrise, joined by 2 ladies and had a photo session.

Then we took the back road to Navoiy despite several locals suggesting it was a bad route choice.  Bizarrely the road, although marked as a more minor road than yesterday’s,  was in far better condition.

We cycled through several villages and above a river valley so we saw more birds, wildlife, people and greenery than usual.  At 8.30am we decided to stop and refuel and conveniently found ourselves in the village of Kanimekh.  There was loud music coming from the village hall and people everywhere.

We were dragged inside where some sort of celebration was in progress.  What followed was the supermarket sweep equivalent of a party invite.  We were dragged to a table and then mountains of food were placed in front of us (plov, salads, meats and cheese, nougart and cakes).  And then more and more food. Drinks ; they gave us orangeade, coke, tea and vodka all poured into different glasses and placed amongst the mass of food.

They wanted to talk to us, take photos but wanted us to eat and drink at the same time. Whilst this is going on there’s singing and a large group of men dancing.  We try to work out what it’s all about, but just get given one word, “svadba!” I noticed that most of the guests had left and our hosts decided we should leave too.  The whole incident probably took less than 15 minutes.

Probably just as well because had we been required to down anymore vodka shots (V large) we’d have been falling off our trikes.  Back on the road and we hit our destination, Navoiy.

All we need to do now is find a decent camping spot and incredibly we find a superb spot, in an orchard behind some disused buildings.  There’s even a water tap so I can fully soap up and then rinse with clean, cold water.  Superb.

 

Sunday 2nd July – Navoiy to Ogtosh
Distance:  55.41 km
Total Distance: 14553.39 km

Yesterday evening we had a visitor who brought us a huge water melon.  He sat with us and studied the trikes whilst we ate the melon.  Daz was talking, talking, talking so I’d zoned out until I realised from his arrival the guy hadn’t actually spoken a word.  Initially I thought he was mute but realised he was deaf too; we watched his young son and daughter catch his attention and then sign with him.

The orchard was relatively cool and shaded and we slept well until the 4am alarm.  Both of us could have happily snoozed a few hours away but instead, like well disciplined ex soldiers, up we get.  By 5.45am we’re back on the main road today and it’s a little dull.  Even in the cool temperatures I keep falling into a zombie like state (yup you jokers, no different to my normal state!).  

We stop for a cuppa and samsa and then hit the last leg.  We’re only going as far as Ogtosh.  With only 4km to go we see a slow moving crane coming up behind and as it passes we grab on.  Well Daz grabs its rear bumper and I grab Daz’s pannier handles.  So a nice finish to the day.   In Ogtosh we find a covered area to camp (unfortunately it’s rather public so the bucket bath is probably out and weeing might be problematic but finding decent shaded areas is so rare that we daren’t reject it).  We visit the Bazaar for icecream and savoury doughnuts and just enjoy the mass of humanity these places attract.  

There’s a whole alley of money sellers which is odd because usually they’re a bit furtive, always looking over their shoulder.  Shopping done and it’s time to set up camp.

All done and it’s only 1130am.  If you’re wondering about the unusual schedule, there’s a couple of controlling factors:

  1. Our Uzbekistan visa runs until 17th July but our Tajikistan doesn’t start until 17th July (we originally thought we’d easily spend 30 days in Uzbekistan.
  2. We’re making a detour from Samarkand to Tashkent primarily added to the schedule when we discovered the only dependable method to get a parcel in the ‘Stans is to have it sent to a British Embassy.   Our POC at the British Embassy in Tashkent doesn’t return from leave until 7th July.
  3. We don’t want to spend long periods in Samarkand or Tashkent because the hotel bill becomes quite high.  So basically we’re just taking it easy; cycling in the cool and reading and resting for the remainder.  We’re being a bit naughty because technically we should be in a hotel tonight; we’re supposed to register every 3rd night but we’re going to push it to the 5th night.  If we’re imprisoned or fined it’s totally my fault because ‘goody two shoes Broadhurst’ is completely against such behaviour!!!

By mid afternoon the crowds have gone and we have the place to ourselves, mostly.   

A family with 2 lovely children who visited earlier and tested my trike, return late afternoon with a beautiful handrawn picture, a photo,  and a huge dish of homemade ‘plov’.

 It’s delicious although I’m ambushed by the whole chilli and whole raw garlic which nearly blow my head off – usually the chillis are completely innocuous over here and as for the garlic;  well it didn’t look like garlic, it didn’t have the texture of garlic (it looked both in texture and size more like a large cube of radish),  but it certainly smelt and tasted like hot garlic!

 

Monday 3rd July – Ogtosh to Gozalkent
Distance:  64.12 km
Total Distance: 14617.51 km

 

Today the 4am wake up is truly unwelcome but we grit our teeth and go forth into the lovely cool pre dawn of Uzbekistan.   We know by 10am it’ll be more like cycling into Dante’s inferno. But for now we enjoy the chilly breeze. The first 26km are a doddle, we’re still on the main road and make good speed.  We pass numerous people on their way to work; a group of women walking on the hard shoulder each with a hoe in hand. They’ll soon be weeding some huge cotton field.  

Then we turn off the main road and now the road surface deteriorates, we have a strong headwind and there’s hills.  We haven’t done any hills for weeks, well it feels like weeks.  Our progress slows.  We try to push on but by 45km we’re suffering, me more than Daz.  Luckily we spot a restaurant.   We go in and they give us a table in a wattle and daub lean-to. It’s lovely and cool.  We order some food and then relax at our table, and sleep.  

And then our barbecued chicken arrives with hot sauce, salad and bread.  It’s delicious!   But TBH I think I could have eaten my own socks and enjoyed the experience!   

Refreshed and refortified we decide to just push on to the next main town.  It’s nearly 11am and it’s already 37 deg C.  It’s only 14km but it’s tough so when we arrive we treat ourselves to ice-cream.  Whilst we’re eating our ice cream the village looney sits next to Daz and talks and sings to him incessantly.   Kindred spirits perhaps?  Poor Daz, he’s shattered too but too polite to ignore the ‘window licker’.  Ice cream finished, water reservoir filled and we’re heading out of the town looking for a camp spot.  There’s a number of empty abandoned buildings on the other side of the road and on investigation, we find a perfect spot.  

I think it’s a disused workshop/ garage.  

 

Tuesday 4th July – Gozalkent to Samarkand
Distance:  34.18 km
Total Distance: 14656.56 km

Another early morning start, but we only have to do 35km to get to Samarkand and then a few days rest.  Last night we had a few villagers come to ogle the ‘weird visitors’ in the village. At least the bakery next door gave us free bread and refilled our water reservoir.  By 9pm Daz was fast asleep after wallowing in the heat all afternoon and I wasn’t far behind. This morning I woke before the strident rings of the alarm could shock me awake, a small positive, I just hope the 4 am wake up doesn’t become too ingrained in my system!

We reach Samarkand without incident and after a bit of meandering find a hotel.  This is primarily to use their internet to find a cheap accommodation option, but after an initial offer of US$45 per night they offer us a deal at US$30. Rather than trawl around the city for a better deal we agree. They even have a swimming pool,  sure the trikes will love that!  We decide to delay sightseeing, it’s 1pm and hot, hot, hot.  We grab a quick bite to eat then retire for the rest of the day.  The sights can wait until the evening when it’s cooler!

 

Wednesday 5th July

Samarkand

We travel not for trafficking alone,

By hotter winds our fiery hearts are fanned.

For lust of knowing what should not be known

We take the Golden Road to Samarkand.

These final lines of James Elroy Flecker’s 1913 poem The Golden Journey to Samarkand evoke the romance of Uzbekistan’s most glorious city. No name is so evocative of the Silk Road as Samarkand. For most people it has the mythical resonance of Atlantis, fixed in the Western popular imagination by poets and playwrights of bygone eras, few of whom saw the city in the flesh.

On the ground the sublime, larger-than-life monuments of Timur, the technicolour bazaar and the city’s long, rich history indeed work some kind of magic. Surrounding these islands of majesty, modern Samarkand sprawls across acres of Soviet-built buildings, parks and broad avenues used by buzzing Daewoo taxis.

 

Thursday 6th July

Samarkand

More sightseeing but mainly amongst the newer sections of Samarkand.   We even find the Old Soviet department store, GUM,  which is now full of stall holders selling electronics, souvenirs and some very gaudy tat!

GUM an abbreviation of Russian: Glávnyj Universáĺnyj Magazín, literally “Main Universal Store”) is the name of the main department store in many cities of the former Soviet Union. Operated as a model retail enterprise for consumers throughout the Soviet Union regardless of class, gender, and ethnicity. GUM’s stores were used to further Bolshevik goals of rebuilding private enterprise along socialist lines and “democratizing consumption for workers and peasants nationwide”. In the end, GUM’s efforts to build communism through consumerism were unsuccessful and arguably “only succeeded in alienating consumers from state stores and instituting a culture of complaint and entitlement! “

We also visit the Observatory of Ulugbek, the astronomical miracle of medieval Uzbekistan.
Among historical monuments of Samarkand the observatory takes pride of place, constructed by Ulugbek in 1428-1429 on one of the hills of Samarkand.  


It was a round,  three-storied tower covered with beautiful glazed tiles ; 46 meters in diameter, 30 meters in height. Inside was a huge quadrant 40 m in radius which was used for the observation of the Sun, Moon and other celestial bodies.  The Samarkand observatory became famous for the edition of the “Ulugbeg Zidj”, containing a theoretical introduction and charts describing 1,018 stars.

Later  we see a wedding celebration in progress. Incredibly elaborate affairs. Nikokh-Tui, wedding, is the most solemn and large Uzbek ceremony. Traditionally Uzbek people celebrate weddings very richly and cheerfully with peculiar splendor and abundance of guests. Immediate and remote relatives, neighbors, friends and co-workers are invited to this wedding ceremony.

       

 

Friday 7th July

Samarkand to Tashkent by train.

Happy birthday to me!!  Sadly not a day of treats and pampering, but a train trip to Tashkent.   We were going to catch a bus but the hotel proprietor says it’s just as cheap to get a taxi. In Uzbekistan there are lots of yellow taxis but if you stick your hand out any passing car will pull over and if going in the right direction, and for a little money will take you. They will also stop to pick up other passengers who may be going the same way!

At the train station we inexplicably get waved through the VIP section, considering we are in shorts, t-shirts and crocs it must be because we look like rich folk slumming it! Again after some consternation we find the right platform and then wait. And wait. British Rail standards!

Eventually the train finally arrives, 40 minutes late.  We find our carriage and plonk ourselves down, only to be rudely moved on.  We’re in the wrong seats. What follows is 4 hours of sweating discomfort.   There is air-conditioning but not sufficient to cool the carriage even with all the blinds down. It’s a murky twilight filled with hot, irritated passengers.  It’s such a relief when we pull into Tashkent.   We extract ourselves from the oven and rush into the hot, baking air outside.

We had planned to stay in a hotel in Tashkent, but Andy, the Defence Attache, comes to our rescue and offers to put us up at his place.  He has just returned from leave and his family are still away.  So he has spare room and it’s another beautiful British Embassy pad – thank you Andy, thank you FCO.

Andy’s house

Andy has to go back to work so we’re left to our own devices!  Look what we’ve found – a TV with UK channels and a Star Trek movie.  So we sit on a sofa, mesmerised by the moving pictures unable to do more than grunt at each other.  God I miss TV!   Andy returns from work and has bad news.  The parcels that have had 3 weeks to get here, ain’t here.  Fxxk, Fxxk, Fxxk!  Bad news.  We need a plan B.  This evening Andy is hosting a training team from 1 Rifles, Chepstow who have been training the Uzbek Army and we’re invited.  Whopppeee.  We go out to a lovely restaurant fashioned into a castle.

The food’s great, lovely setting and great company;  it’s interesting being with 8 young soldiers.  I know it’s several years since we left and many more since we were juniors but the tales they tell paint a depressing picture of Army life in 2017!

 

Saturday 8th July

Sightseeing in Tashkent

We spend the day seeing the sights of Tashkent – The Capital of Uzbekistan.

The main city of Uzbekistan is a huge metropolis with a population of over 3 million people. The city is lined with a grid of straight and wide streets and avenues, decorated with emerald green parks, gardens, fountains imbued with crystal strands…   The city is a real embodiment of the modern elegance that is inherent in many world capitals. At the same time it remains an oriental city. Tashkent has its own unique flavor. It combines medieval buildings as if descended from the pages of old oriental tales, elegant European architecture from the period of the Turkestan governor-generalship, standard concrete “boxes” of the Soviet era and, finally, glittering skyscrapers of glass and concrete (modern business centers and banks).  Actually this makes Tashkent sound far more interesting than it actually is and after Samarkand,  Bukhara and Khiva it’s really rather disappointing but its Metro is fab!


Having strolled through the Bazaar, I think we are nearly ‘bazaared out’, we wander along one of the cities canals, watching locals swimming and jumping off road bridges to the rapid brown waters below.  

Along the way we wander through a Japanese garden where several wedding couples are having their pictures taken.  Weddings are big business here and the photography sessions lengthy.  Most weddings are ‘arranged’ ; the girls are still very young (19s, 20s) and invariably end in divorce where there’s no legal requirement for the husband to pay child support.

Our ultimate destination is Tashkent television tower – the largest broadcasting center in Central Asia. It’s also the highest structure in Central Asia. Its height is 375 meters. Apparently a popular tourist attraction but with access to the lowest level only, it’s rather anti climatic.   

We’re escorted by an English speaking guide who is very, very  happy and enthusiastic.   He effuses joy and an honest love for Tashkent whilst I effuse an equal amount of irritation and oozing resentment that I must tolerate such boundless happiness when I’m hot, tired and unimpressed by Tashkent ‘pants’ TV Tower (especially as we’re practically strip-searched, have all our electronics confiscated and have to show our passports for the ‘excursion’!)

It’s early evening and we think we’ve seen enough.  But we decide on a last stop at the 5 star Grand Mir Hotel for a celebratory birthday drink.  What ensues should’ve been funny and is not unusual in Tashkent.   We read the drinks’ menu.  Ummmm a G&T.  We watch the bar staff (yup 3 of them) heads together in this monumental task.  After a lengthy wait, the waitress heads over with 2 glasses each containing about an inch of fluid.  Daz takes the glasses back to the bar requesting more tonic and ice.  Ha ha – they can’t give us more tonic because there isn’t any.  What they’ve served is straight gin.  But they really want to help and so offer Gin and sparkling water.  It’s now becoming a little heated.  The barman expects us to pay but Daz says he hasn’t got what he ordered.  We later learn that the British Ambassador has had to educate the Hyatt Hotel about ‘tonic expectations’ from foreign visitors!   

 

 

Sunday 9th July

Tashkent to Samarkand by train

A late start today and pancakes for brekkie.  Andy has been cooking!  Yummy!  Later he takes us out for a final stint of sightseeing.   We visit the Museum of Repression and the Orthodox Christian Church which are both very interesting.   

We also stop for lunch at a Turkish restaurant.   It brings back fond memories of the food we enjoyed in Turkey.  Later Andy takes us to the train station for the 1850hrs train back to Samarkand.   Andy’s been a great host and we’re glad we had the opportunity to see Tashkent.  We’ve found a plan B for the undelivered parcels.  Andy will redirect them to Astana Embassy, Kazakhstan but because we’ll be using the BFPO service, the parcels will have to go back to the UK first.  It’ll be September before we get to Kazakhstan so we’re confident this is enough time!!  

Our return train journey is on the fast train.  Only a couple of hours and well air-conditioned,  comfy seats and even a snack and drinks service.  Back at our hotel and time for a good night’s sleep because tomorrow we’re back on the trikes.

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Uzbekistan: Beyneu to Nukus and the Aral Sea – 18th to 20th June

Sunday 18th June – Beyneu to Nukus
Distance: 6.19 km
Total Distance: 14034.98 km

We were rudely awoken at 1am by our hotel proprietor, Murat. It gave us both a hell of a scare, thinking we’d overslept and missed our train but it was just minutes before our alarm. Shower, pack and out the door. We’re at the train station at 1.20am (yup we’ve got this routine down to a fine art). At the station we need to work out what to do. It’s not actually possible to get on a platform next to the train as there isn’t a platform. We have to carry everything down some steps, then I go onto the train and find a ‘train official’ type person.

He looks at our tickets and sends us to coach 1 (the one at the very end, back end, not front). We load up and cycle to the end, it’s some way, it’s a very long train. Then unload again and carry everything across 2 sets of tracks. OK now the really difficult part. The steps into the coach are very steep, narrow and there’s a considerable gap between the ground and the first step. Nightmare. We get all the luggage inside and we have our own sitting/sleeping compartment. Now the trikes. Our first attempt to get one in fails, it’s too wide so off come the seats, and we manage to get it onto the train. But the only space we can utilise is the small corridor area between coaches.

If we just park the trike there it blocks the door to the next coach and there’s no room for the 2nd trike. The train official doesn’t seem inclined to give us another area. So after various positions and manhandling 2 awkward trikes in a very confined space, they’re parked up the wall (stood on their back wheel against the main coach doors). And then bungied into position. At least the official is content that the main access door to the carriage stay locked otherwise someone trying to get up into our carriage would have a trike on their head! All of this has been done in the pitch dark because the train interior lights are still off.
Thank goodness that’s sorted.

We settle into our compartment and nap, there’s still an hour before the train leaves for Nukus. About 2.50am the train lights come on and I realise this coach is already full of sleeping passengers. They were already aboard when we loaded our stuff on.

Finally we set off. On board there are Kazak custom guards and we’re frequently disturbed by requests for our passports, where we’re from, whether we’re tourists and where we’re going. At 5.20am we stop at the Uzbekistan border. So it’s taken 2 hours 20 to cover 90 kilometers – the definition of a slow train?
Now come the Uzbek officials. They check through all our bags. They’re particularly interested in our medicine. No drugs containing codeine are allowed in Uzbekistan. They also look at our photos on our phone and notepad. We complete a registration form and we have to declare how much money we’re taking into Uzbekistan. Once that’s done they take away all the passports. Just before 8.30am our passports are returned and off we jolly well go.
Once we set off we realise why the connecting door between coaches had to be kept clear, there is an endless amount of people walking up and down the train selling food, clothes, black market currency etc. These ‘traders’ appear to change after each stop so they must all have their own ‘manor’.
The day drags on. The train which was deliciously cool at 5am warms up and there’s the smell of piss, the sound of snoring and the constant hawking of phlegm – OMG these guys love to spit. We’re frequently disturbed by the traders and others.

 

They see nothing wrong in just sitting down beside us to read our kindles with us or to pick up our stuff scattered on the table. At one point I’m lying down reading my kindle and I realise there’s another head right next to mine, trying to read my kindle.

We stop one lady selling ‘plov’, she has a large cooking pot wrapped in towels and plastic bags, inside is some steaming hot rice with vegetables. We order some and she whips out a bowl and 2 spoons. She also has a jar of cucumber and tomato and a jar of cooked meat in small lumps. She dishes some of each out and we pay her 5000 Som, about 60 pence we think! It’s quite delicious, we also buy some pancakes to supplement it. A guy stops in our compartment to entertain us with some card tricks. And Daz, unhappy to have no attention, shows some of his tricks.

By 7.00pm we have been on the train nearly 17 hours and we are finally pulling into Nukus. We thank the young Uzbek girl who has helped us with translating. Then it’s time to unload the trikes and baggage from the train. Surprisingly both trikes have survived unscathed from being parked on their tail end (thank God).

Now we just need to get to the centre of town. We have been told that a visit to the shrinking Aral sea is a must whilst we are here, so we need to speak to a tour operator about going tomorrow. Fortunately we have found a hotel, Jipek Joli, that runs tours. So that’s where we’re heading. With a bit of haggling we manage to get a reduced price on the tour and on a hotel room for the night. We would normally camp, but in Uzbekistan it is the law that foreign tourists need to register every 3 days in a hotel. It’s actually supposed to be everyday, but as cycle tourists there is a little leeway. Once we’ve got all our kit in our room we head straight out to see the central Bazaar which is still open at 8pm. There are loads of people out and about, and lots of local cyclists riding about the city.

As we wander back to the hotel looking for a restaurant /cafe we hear loud music coming from a restaurant, and with hunger prowling at the door we pop our heads in to see what’s going on. It seems there are a number of parties in the restaurant, and a lively disco. Everyone is up and dancing too. We manage to convey our hunger to the waiters and are shown to a table. After some confusion, due to noise, language and no prices on the menu we order food. Whilst we wait I’m suddenly grabbed by an ornately dressed woman and dragged onto the dance floor! Oh well, in for a penny… Daz joins in as well (eventually) and we dance with all these crazy Uzbek ladies until our dinner arrives!

After eating we sidle out before we are dragged up again and head back to the hotel, knackered, but knowing we have an early start tomorrow.

Monday 19th June
Nukus to Aral Sea Tour

Our alarm goes off at 7am. Arghhhhh we could both sleep longer but our tour starts at 8am. We head to breakfast and we’re given the first course; fruit, pancakes and cake. We’re offered a choice of eggs or porridge. I opt for eggs and Daz, the porridge. And then we wait, and wait and wait. We see our 4×4 outside and still we wait.

We’re getting a little restless and impatient. We came down in plenty of time and now we’re late and still no food. Finally, after Daz has gone into the kitchen to kick arse, we get some food. Daz’s porridge is actually rice but not a lovely creamy rice pudding (although to my mind there’s never a ‘lovely rice pudding’ ‘bleughhhhh’) but a sad bowl of rice cooked in water and then dumped into milk. I get my eggs (they haven’t messed up 2 fried eggs) and just as we’re about to leave along comes my toast. A rushed pack and we’re out the door. We have a very comfy Toyota Land Cruiser with our driver, Kazim and ‘security’ Urdal. And off we go.
A quick side note: we’re now working in US$ and Uzbek Som. Having been told not to use ATMs in Uzbekistan we withdrew a wad of dollars in Kazakhstan. On the train (as we’d been told by Beth and Max – it’s so handy we now have 3 sets of cyclists ahead, feeding us useful information! ) there’s numerous black market money changers. We were told to expect 8000 Som :1$. We fail to get this on the train but finally settle for 7,800 Som:1$. Daz wants to change 200$ but I want to get a feel for how expensive things are here so we change $100 = 780,000 Som. It’s a huge wad of notes. What a ridiculous currency. Our dinner last night had no prices marked but finally we settled for a Thai(?) beef dish with rice and 4 beers. Cost 65,000Som = 8$.
Back to the tour. Our target for today is the Aral Sea.
The Aral sea, or what’s left of it, is not a nice place in that it represents one of the biggest disasters that humankind has created. Back in 1960 the Aral Sea was known as the 4th biggest lake in the world and covered 66000 square kilometres. Nowadays the lake a mere 5th of its original size, only 12,000 square kilometres. The drying of the Aral Sea has ravaged a region roughly the size of Germany with disease, birth defects, agricultural and economic devastation.

The two rivers that feed the Aral Sea are the Amu Darya and Syr Darya rivers, respectively reaching the Sea through the South and the North. The Soviet government decided in the 1960s to divert those rivers so that they could irrigate the desert region surrounding the Sea in order to favor agriculture rather than supply the Aral Sea basin. The salinity of the lake has increased more than 10 fold as it has shrunk and now the lake which once supplied thousands of tons of fish each year, contains no fish.
On the way we stop for lunch at a fishermen’s settlement at Sudochie Lake.  Above it sits an ancient Watch Tower.

Just above the fishermen’s camp there’s the ruins of a Gulag and a cemetery for the Polish and Soviet dissidents that died during their incarceration. En route we see rice fields, cotton fields and a number of gas and oil installations. We also drive along and then over the Ushyut plateau, it covers 180,000 square kms, stretching from here to the Caspian Sea.

 

Kazim ordering bread.

 A typical Uzbekistan toilet!

 

It’s a long drive (mostly on sand and dirt tracks) but the campground overlooking the Aral Sea is incredible. There’s 2 Yurts here (one just for me and Daz) and a shower and toilet cubicles. There’s also 2 puppies and a pregnant cat. There’s a guy here looking after it and this is when we realise that Urdal, the ‘security’ guy is his relief. They spend up to a month at a time here looking after the tourists that visit the camp.

After dumping our kit we’re driven down to the beach for a swim in the Aral Sea. Well it’s not so much a swim but a float. Neither of us have ever been to the Dead Sea but we assume the experience is similar. After wading out (no easy task because the floor is thick, squelching, stinking, black mud) we’re buoyed up by the salinity of the water. It’s a little bit smelly and stinging (on some of our more sensitive nether regions) but Wow, amazing. There’s no-one for miles, it’s totally deserted. It’s actually a very sad shadow of what it once was. A sad testament to Man’s destructive capabilities but beautiful nonetheless.

After our swim it’s back to the campsite. After showering off the stinky mud and layer of salt from our bodies we enjoy chatting to Kazim.

The guys prepare our dinner of fried fish, salad and bread and afterwards we nip up the hill for sundowners. Sadly we’re a bit late so instead we watch the light fade and then return to camp and the fire pit for a lovely log fire.

We don’t last long though and we soon head to bed.

Tuesday 20th June
Aral Sea Tour

We want to see the sunrise over the Aral Sea. We do a practice run at 3am. Yup it’s definitely too early but Daz failed the alarm setting test. One of the puppies and the cat have decided we needed closer scrutiny and broke into our Yurt to provide close protection. Since we’re awake and need a wee we see how beautiful the sky is here with zero light pollution.

At 5am we’re up again for the sunrise. It’s beautiful.

Then Daz goes back to bed but I take the puppies for a walk. Actually I need them for protection to scare off any scorpions and snakes. Plus they’re fun and soooo cute.

Back at camp for breakfast of egg and chips, yogurt and cookies and lashings of tea and then back in the truck for the long drive back. We have a couple of stops on the way back: the burial grounds of the Nomadic tribes that travelled the silk route; the canyons of the Ushyut plateau; the ships’ cemetery in Moynaq and the Mizdakhan complex, once a big city on 3 hills dating from IV BC to XIV AD.

And that’s it. We’re back at the hotel at just passed 4pm feeling shattered and very hot. Kazim and his partner test our trikes before heading off.

We had planned to go forth this evening on our bikes but decide we need a decent night’s sleep. No alarm setting tonight Daz!

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The Kazakhstan desert from Aktau to Beyneu – 8th to 17th June

Thursday 8th June – Aboard the ferry boat from Alat to Aktau

We wake at 5am and the ferry still feels like it’s not moving.  We go off to investigate and find the hold is now full of lorries but we’re still in the docks.  About 6am we finally set sail.

8am – breakfast.  2 boiled eggs, stale bread, jam, honey, cheese and çay.

10am.  Ferry drops anchor.

12pm Lunch  – soup and chicken and pasta.  The ferry is still at anchor.  We’re still only 30km east of Baku.  Apparently there are strong winds out at sea and we’re not moving until they ebb.

 

We’ve spent our time today reading, playing cards and planning our Uzbekistan phase.  So both relaxing and constructive.  In Uzbekistan we only have a 30 day visa but from border to border it’s 1800km.  That’s 36 day’s cycling at our usual pace.  So we definitely can’t cycle the length of Uzbekistan instead we’re hoping we’ll be able to use the train for the desert areas.

8pm.  Dinner – soup and chicken and potatoes and more stale bread.

 

Friday 9th June – Aboard the ferry boat to Alat

4am.  Finally the anchor is raised and we set sail.

8am.  Breakfast.   

  1.  Lunch

8pm Dinner

The remainder of the day is spent snoozing, reading and playing cards.  We even persuade Marta and Coco to play cards too but Nominations probably was a bad choice.   It’s tough enough explaining the rules to British players.  

Saturday 10th June – Aktau port to Aktau town and Zhetybai

Distance:  95.62 km
Total Distance: 13734.62  km

4am. There’s a knock on the door, we’re in Aktau port.  The ferry is still reversing into its dock but we manage to get our bags down into the hold before being evicted.

We have to wait for the custom officials and their sniffer dog.  Then we’re sent to the quayside before being driven to the customs office.

Once our passports and registration slips have been stamped we walk back to the ferry, sort out our gear and head off.

But then we called into a holding area whilst the officials check the contents of our bags.  One of Daz’s front tyres is a bit low, as is one of mine so Daz takes this opportunity to pump them up.  Disaster our new pump fails and Daz is not impressed.  The other cyclists are also having their bags checked so we borrow a pump from Thomas.  Tyres inflated and off we head but the officials still hold us at the main barrier – personally I think it’s just so they can take a selfie with the trikes.  Finally at about 6.30am we’re out.  We head into Aktau town centre.

In the centre there are many soldiers and police formed up – perhaps for a parade.  I spot a Holiday Inn.  They’ll be able to help; we need money and the exchange rate, a Kazakhstan SIM,  location of the Migration office and location of a bike shop.  We get money ; it’s the Kazak Tenge.  352:1€.  Lyzzat, the receptionist, tells us the Migration Office won’t open until 9am and the shops perhaps not until 10am.  But they’re serving breakfast and there’s WIFI so that’s where we head.  Lyzzat prints some documents for us and then at 10am takes us to the shopping mall and helps us buy a SIM.  

 She’s also phoned bike shops and the Migration Office for us.  She gives us her phone number and tells us to call if we have any problems.  Our first Kazak encounter and she’s been unbelievably kind and helpful.

We cycle out with the intention of going to the Migration police officer but bump into the other cyclists who have just been and they say we don’t need to register.  We join them in a supermarket to stock provisions then head to a bike shop.  It’s already incredibly hot. We get there but no bikeshop. Fortunately a mechanic, Alexander, asks us what we are after and his friend, the Pastor, Maxim, offers to take Daz in his car as it is a long way.  I wait around, drinking tea with the workers. Finally they are back successful,  new pump acquired.   

We swap numbers with Alexander and Maxim and they tell us it’s going to be tough going and tell us to ring if we have any problems on the road.  Then we cycle out of Aktau into the Kazakh desert.  We need to cycle 80 km to get to our next probable water stop. Just before leaving the outskirts we stock up with 8 litres of water.  What follows is an unbelievable exhausting 8 hours of cycling in blistering heat. At times we both feel nauseous from the temperatures. Fortunately we are given water a couple of times by passing cars and roadworkers otherwise we wouldn’t have made it.  At its hottest our thermometer reads 43.7 degrees. By 6 pm it’s still over 40!! Not only is it hot but it’s unremitting barren plains.  

There’s nothing to see, no wildlife just dry scrubland with the occasional camel or herd of horses.  We both slip into zombie mode desperate to stop but without shade, there’s no point.  We finally sight our garage stop in the distance and arrive at 8.30 pm. There’s a little shop and we guzzle cold drink after cold drink.  We buy 2 big 6 litre waterbottles then cycle around the back to some scrubland and pitch camp. We eat some tomatoes and bread with olive oil and herbs and 2 ladies come to visit.  They want us to join them for çay and use their shower but we’re just too tired.  

We use one of the 6 litre bottles to wash the sand and grime off our bodies. By now it’s 10 pm.  And the moon comes up.

Within minutes of getting into bed we are asleep!  What a day – hellish just about covers it.  In fact it probably was the temperature of hell!!!  At least now I’m acclimatised to what awaits me in the afterlife lol.

 

Sunday 11th June – Zhetybai to Shetpe
Distance:  85.95 km
Total Distance: 13820.57 km

A light shower during the night and this morning it’s overcast and cloudy.  We’re so pleased, it should keep the temperature down.

After a porridge breakfast we head off.  We were warned by Björn that the winds across Kazakhstan were formidable but we’re much more aerodynamic than conventional bikes and stable in cross winds.  An initial strong headwind soon switches to a tail wind when we turn onto another road and we make good progress.

We know the key points today are the village Zhetybai at 10km, a hamlet, Bika, at 50km and then Shepte at 85km.  There’s nothing, and I mean nothing, in between.  At the first village progress is good so we push on.  The cloud cover means we have a cooling 27deg C. Such a relief after yesterday.  At Bika there’s a roadside restaurant (in the Kazak sense) and we stop for dumpling soup, burger and mash followed by coffee.  Delicious.

 

 We have an hour’s break to prepare for the last phase.  Today, like most of yesterday,  there’s abundant roadworks and often one lane of the dual carriageway is closed.  This is our special domain.  It means often having to negotiate earth banks (used to block the lane), trenches and holes that are being dug and handrailing the road along the dirttrack if there’s fresh tar or tarmac.  But regardless it beats being on the main drag and reduces the dust clouds we have to endure.  It also means we meet many of the road construction gangs who make us stop, not for a bollocking, but for group photos.

The last phase is tough.  We’re tiring and the wind isn’t so favourable.  Finally we hit Shetpe.  As we come over the hill and see it lying in the basin below, I feel almost tearful.  I can’t believe we made it.  We fly down the hill and cycle into the town.  I wish we’d videoed it, it’s like coming into a modern wild west town.  It’s just bizarre.

We find a place for dinner and then on the outskirts a spot to pitch camp.  The last 2 days have been the toughest cycling to date and it’s not the terrain which fortunately lends to our strengths – flat, good roads.

It’s the distances we need to achieve to get to the next water stop.  We carry full water bottles and about 5L in our reservoir for top ups.  It’s extra weight we’d rather do without but we need the water!

 

Monday 12th June – Shetpe to Sayotesh
Distance:  128.00 km
Total Distance: 13834.78 km

Last night the storm clouds that had chased us most of the afternoon, finally caught up but by the time the rain hit we were tucked up in bed.  This morning after a porridge breakfast we supplement our water reserves at the petrol station and then we’re on our way.

Today there’s a village at 28km and a railway station (possibly also a village) at 70km.  Other than those there’s nothing out there in these desolate plains.  70km should be doable but today there’s no cloud cover and it’s already incredibly hot and it’s only 9.30am.  We’ve only just started when a truck pulls up in front.  We’re muttering to ourselves about a photo session but no, the driver gets out and there’s no evidence of the camera or phone.  Ahhhh he’s just checking his truck.  But no he wants us to stop.  And then he only wants to give us a lift to Beyneu.  He has an empty box body truck.   Ummmm decisions,  decisions.   So we take the lift – why? Because we can and because we feel it’s our duty, afterall our site is ‘Any which way you can!’.

So we load all our stuff into the truck and off we go.  Our hero today is Polad, originally from Azerbaijan, but now living in Astrakhan, Russia with his wife and 2 children.   We decide Beyneu is just too far.  It’s almost at the Uzbekistan border but since our UZ visa doesn’t start until the 18th June, it would just be too much time to kill.  So we decide on Sayotesh which was our intended destination for tomorrow.   We drive through the desert, now it’s a pleasure to see the miles flying by rather than dragging.

Especially when we hit some big hills.  After the hills it’s just flatness. A row of pylons crossing the desert plains the only feature except for the occasional camel.  On the outskirts of Sayotesh Polad stops at a cafe.  He treats us to coffee and we swap WhatsApp and Facebook details.

We unload our gear and say farewell to Polad – what a wonderful chap.  We return to the cafe for more coffee and ham and eggs.  A guy, Ruslan, from Kazakhstan comes in – he eats at the table next to us. He’s travelling around in an old Soviet 4 wheel drive, radio command truck. For the spotters out there – a Gaz-66 R-142N Command vehicle.

He’s really chatty but sadly the internet connection here is so poor we can’t communicate well.  But he shows us his truck, gives Darren a special bracelet – it’s like a James Bond accessory with firestriker, whistle and paracord.

We swap details and we’re told to send him messages and selfies.  We decide to head into the town of Sayotesh – big mistake!  The kids follow us on their bikes and keep kicking out at us and trying to hang onto our panniers.

We’d hoped to find a bar/cafe/restaurant so we could just relax for the afternoon,out of the sun, but there’s only a train station and 2 shops.  We can’t decide what to do but we know we want to get away from the kids who keep messing with our trikes and gear.  We buy some provisions and then head out of the village.  On the outskirts we see a house that’s half built.  Perhaps we can camp next to it for shade.

When we arrive we discover there’s a house next door.   We knock on their door and ask if we can camp in their backyard.  They agree and that’s what we do.

 

Tuesday 13th June – Sayotesh to Railroad Siding 6
Distance:  54.28 km
Total Distance: 13889.06 km

Porridge and flies for breakfast. We hit the road and that’s it for the next 54 kilometers.   It’s flat, well maybe we are gaining a couple of metres per kilometer,  but with a slight tailwind we are scooting along at about 20 kmph. We are passed by the occasional truck, and we in turn pass the odd camel or herd of wild horses. It’s great seeing the stallion watching us as he protects his mares. There are a lot of foals at this time of year too.

Apart from that it’s dull, but with the music playing and feeling strong after yesterday’s rest day we make good progress.  Highlight of the day was seeing loads of desert rats scurrying through the low scrub.  There are no trees here, and very few birds. It’s weird thinking we are side by side cycling down this dead straight road through the desert for miles.   With a couple of kilometers to go we can see our stop for the day materialise out of the heat haze.  On the map it’s marked as Railroad Siding number 6. It’s actually about 3 km to the left of the road down a side track, but when we reach the turning we see that there’s actually a cafe – restaurant on the junction.  From the Sayotesh experience we know we’re better off with these roadside cafes than the actual villages.  They have 2 tables and we sit at one.  Ramen soup followed by eggs and fried processed ham.

After eating we get some Internet time using our phone as a hotspot.  We receive messages from the Defence Attache in Tashkent.  This is great for us because we’ve been planning to send a parcel by the BFPO system to the Embassy.   Unfortunately whilst it’s possible to use a courier it’s incredibly expensive and there’s no guarantee the locals will allow it through customs without a hefty bribe.  We also hear from the Defence Attache in Astana, Kazakhstan.  He’s been chatting to Dave and Tracey (Tbilisi)  and he’s offering assistance (24/7). Loving the Embassy network – what an incredible bunch of people.  We also agree they can put our blog on the Embassy website. Fame once again.

Admin done we relax, write the blog then go round the back of the cafe to pitch our tent in the desert.  The kids come out to watch and assist.

 

Wednesday 14th June – Railroad Siding 6 to Railway Siding 1
Distance:  100.41 km
Total Distance: 13989.47 km

We’ve decided desert camping is a tough gig.  Invariably there’s no shade but a guaranteed strong wind ensuring we’re enveloped in a dust/grit cloud of varying severity.  Sand gets into the tent and into all our bags and even into my tea (sacrilege).   Despite having an easy schedule the wind drives us out of the tent at 8am (in the wind the tent makes hell of a din so it’s impossible to lie in).  After our breakfast (yup still eating porridge, but now more gritty)  we pop into the cafe for some water.  She gives us some donuts for our trip.  They’ve been lovely here and seem genuinely pleased to see travellers.

We hit the road at 9am.  Our target today is Ushyurt, next to a railway siding, at 48 km.  Between us and it, nothing.  There’s no cloud cover today so it gradually heats to a barmy 37 deg C.  At 12.30 we reach today’s destination.   

There’s the obligatory cafe/restaurant next to the road and in we go for lunch.  It seems the only thing on the menu is ham and eggs and a mug of tea.  By the way, in Kazakhstan they serve white tea, it’s with camels’ milk.  Sadly the proprietor doesn’t seem that friendly.  No smiles and no attempt to converse (yes I know we can’t speak her language but usually there’s some degree of receptivity, but not here).  Yesterday we spent hours in the cafe before setting up camp next to it.  Since we’re not feeling the love we decide to push on.  We’ve made good time this morning, so Siding 1 at 100km should be achievable.  An afternoon of heat, miles of straight road disappearing in a heat haze and………. well nothing really!  Highlights of the day; a car stops and the guy gives us 5L of water, a box of biscuits and a packet of Tuc biscuits.  Another guy gives us a packet of nuts and a ribbon for our bike and we meet a very inquisitive lizard.  

We’re tiring and just shy of Siding 1 when we spot a restaurant.   Gutted, it’s closed.  We make Siding 1 and there’s…….. nothing.  Bugger, the obligatory cafe/restaurant isn’t here.  This is a huge disappointment.  Thank God Daz took the 5L of water off that guy.  We spot an abandoned building.  These are scarce indeed.  We walk over to investigate.   It’s an unfinished house with no roof that’s just been abandoned.   Inside it’s clean and there’s shade.  Perfect.  Our home for tonight.  Our abandoned house was a perfect site. Quiet and shaded!  Daz was shattered so he had a nap whilst I made dinner, a rare event indeed.  

 

Spaghetti with garlic, chilli, oregano and lashings of olive oil.  We ran out of milk, 3 in 1 coffee sachets and had less water than usual so a wet-wipe wash and wet-wipe washing up after dinner – disgusting admin drills.

 

Thursday 15th June – Railway Siding 1 to Beyneu
Distance:  39.32 km
Total Distance: 14028.79 km

  After a porridge breakfast and a very late start (10.15 – Daz wanted to finish his book) we hit the road.  It’s going to be a hot one, it’s already 37 deg C.  The ride into Beyneu is as interesting as the last few days although a goat herder comes to check us out and we’re surprised when a van passes and we spot Thomas hanging out of the passenger window waving frantically!  

On the outskirts of Beyneu the wind is hitting us head on and the dust clouds are severe.  Finally we arrive at the train station. We are pretty much strip searched on the way in, obviously the guards are bored! We want a ticket from Beyneu, Kazakhstan to Nukus, Uzbekistan on 18th June, the day our Uzbekistan visa starts.  It takes ages, about 90 minutes, before we manage to purchase our ticket. People queuing or queue jumping; the fact each person takes about 10 minutes to get a ticket and one guy takes about 40 minutes to get his ticket.   And the language barrier all add to the frustration.  But we finally have tickets in our mitts. It’s a shame the train leaves at 03:57 am on Sunday, oh wait… all train times in Kazakhstan run on Astana (capital city) time, so that’s actually 02:57am here!

No we set off to find a hotel. There are 4 to choose from but we opt for one near the central square.  The manager drove past us this morning and told us to drop in if we needed a place to stay. Obviously he was touting for business but we are fair game and it’s not a bad price.  They’ll even do our stinky washing for one pound fifty!  

Showered and with clean clothes on we need to head back out.  Our next country, Uzbekistan, is a bit of a banking rip off, if we use an ATM we can get maybe 3000 Som for 1 US $. Whereas on the Black market it’s more like 8000. So we need to hit the banks, withdraw enough US$ to last us the month in country and convert it to Som.  This will mean several trips to the bank as both our cards have a daily limit!  We initially tried cash withdrawal in Tenge but then discovered the other bank does an ‘over the counter’ US$ transaction.   We withdraw the maximum we can and will repeat tomorrow.   Job done we grab some food in Burger King, no wait… Beyneu King, a rip off local version that only has pasties, chips and pizza ( the pizza had cucumber on it and was cooked in the microwave… go figure!)

As we come back out onto the square we see Coco, Marta and Perry with their bikes. They have just arrived in town, can’t believe we beat them.  Turns out they were advised of a short cut from Aktau which meant they took 2 days to get to our lunch stop on day 2! It was very cross country they said! We chat for a while and catch up but they need to get some accommodation sorted (we took the last rooms in our hotel) so we say goodbye and head back to our hotel for a cold beer and to catch up on some Internet admin, no rest for the wicked!!

 

Friday 16th June – Beyneu

A day of chores, napping and reading.   We hit the bank early for another wad of US$.  We apply for our Tajikistan visa, research various elements of our forthcoming trip, catch up with people at home and do some UK admin.  And that’s a day off.  Oh yes and Daz washed and checked our trikes.  

Saturday 17th June – Beyneu

Today is our last day in Beyneu.   Tonight we’ll catch the train to Nukus,  Uzbekistan.  

 

Our 30 day visas start tomorrow so we want to maximise our time there.  The other cyclists,  Perry,  Magda and Coco intend to speed through in 14 days.  We’re just finishing breakfast when a guy, Daren,  comes over to chat.  He’s from Brighton and he flew to Almaty about 2 months ago and has just cycled the route we’re about to cycle but in the opposite direction.   We tell him what to expect from here to Aktau and then Baku and glean some information from him about the Pamir Highway.   

Then we go off to explore the Beyneu Bazaar and then head to a supermarket.  

 We’re not sure what to expect from our 15 hour train journey to Nukus so we get some provisions.   There really isn’t much to be said for Beyneu although we love the sock / shoe combination.   The fashion police would be on overtime here.  

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Azerbaijan – 23rd May to 7th June

Tuesday 23rd May – Lagodekhi to Zagatala

Distance:  39.95 km
Average Speed: 10.6 kmh
Fastest Speed: 47.8 kmh
Total Distance: 13183.3  km

Last night we found a beautiful spot to wild camp just 2km from the Azerbaijan border.

We enjoyed cheese and biscuits and a final bottle of good Georgian wine in the beautiful sunshine.  We couldn’t have our wash until after 7pm because we were still sweating in the heat.  We had a lovely quiet night although there were a few rain showers. And again the sauna-like heat in the tent sent us scurrying outside at 8am. It wasn’t much cooler outside and by the time I’d eaten my porridge, I was breaking out in a sweat.  Do porridge and warm climates go together?  This morning we had a rejig of our packing because we were dividing our food and cooking equipment between 2 bags.  Now all our food is in one place – a very heavy white ratpack on the back of my trike.  But Brucie bonus – I passed back the toolkit within an hour.  We crossed out of Georgia easily but there was a peculiar system at the Azerbaijan border.

Possibly there was some order to it but people just seemed to mill around until the administrators decided to deal with their papers.  Also we were searched (yup full cavity for Daz).  No, just the trikes in the most random pattern.  Open this bag, take that out, put that away, open that bag.  He made us open every bag but I don’t imagine he had any idea what he was looking at.  Once our passports and visas were stamped and our little exit tokens we cycled downhill to the last barrier between us and Azerbaijan.   And the computer (well military gate guard) said ‘nah’.  He sent us back up to the passport check.  Oh they’d forgotten to stamp our little exit tokens.  Back down the hill, through the gate and into Azerbaijan.

We cycled to the first main town of Balakan where we found a bank to withdraw Azeri Manat.  Last night we changed all our Georgian Lari into US $.  In both Georgia and Azerbaijan we’ve been offered the choice ; local currency or US $ at the ATMs.  We also stopped for lunch and pointed at a meat dish a guy was eating at the adjacent table.  It looked yummy until it came to our table, kidneys and liver and potatoes and green lemonade.

Fortunately Daz loves liver and kidneys so he ate all the meat, and me, all the potatoes.   We also wanted an Azeri SIM and another computer battery.  Fortunately a local chap who spoke some Engish directed us to the places we needed.   Phone SIM done and my bike computer finally working again (bike computer problem – flat battery in headset dead.  Battery replaced but some water in computer as a result of torrential rain crossing Gombori pass.  Computer dried out and headset registering but battery in sensor also dead and needed replacing).

Just outside of Balakan we stopped for çay with some guys that called us over.  They offered us food and vodka but we declined.  

We moved on pretty smartish when they’d necked a bottle of vodka in the time it took us to drink a glass of çay.  

After the next village the local policemen sent us to their old disused police station for the night.  It’s a bit dirty but we’ve got full cover and I’m convinced there’s going to be heavy rain tonight, Daz thinks otherwise, we shall see who wins that bet!

Initial impressions of Azerbaijan:  People are more extrovert and friendly than in Georgia. The ladies dressed up more and also the kids coming home from school. Everyone wants to take photos of us.  The roads are as bad as Georgia but the traffic relatively light so far.  Mind you, there are alot more Ladas and Trabants on the road!

 

Wednesday 24th May – Zagatala

The rain I predicted last night didn’t come until this morning and so we decided to stay put.  A restful day of eating and reading.  The highlight was when Daz spotted 2 cyclists.  We invited them in from the rain and made them a cuppa.  2 English cyclists from Nottingham, Beth and Max, taking a year out to cycle the ‘Stans’ and Nepal.  

Thursday 25th May – Zagatala to Abbas

Distance:  60.27 km
Average Speed: 10.21 kmh
Fastest Speed: 49.69 kmh
Total Distance: 13243.57  km

This morning the weather appears to have cleared and we’re about to set off when Daz spots he has a flat.  Bugger!  By the time that’s sorted more rain has arrived.  We push on but stop in the first town, Zaxatala, for provisions.   Then we push on for Qax.  We’re stopped constantly by people in the street or by passing cars wanting photos.

OMG we must be famous in Azerbaijan,  we’ve even been filmed by men with big-arse shoulder mounted video cameras. The road surface changes almost by the minute; one minute decent tarmac; then numerous potholes; then just gravel and potholes.

We can see the snow capped hills to our left and between us and them, green fields and forests.  It’s beautiful and birds are flying along the hedgerows; horses, cows and sheep graze along the verges.  We’ve had a number of horse related problems in the last few days.  Basically we scare them.  When grazing horses start to get nervy we chat to them and hopefully reassure them we’re human and no threat.  But there’s been a number of horses and traps where we’ve tried to warn the driver that their horse might well panic.

But of course they don’t understand until their horse attempts a panicked 180 to get away from us!  We stop in a village for coffee – we get free hot water and then use our coffee sachets.  Then we sit and watch a group of men playing……..well initially we thought it was backgammon but they seem to be using some sort of blocking technique by filling each line with a single counter ( so not the backgammon we play) although they then exit the board as we would.

About 5km after coffee we stop for an egg and sausage bap cooked by Daz.

After lunch we continue on our gravel track to Qax.  We head for the centre but it’s not really that interesting.  We stop to ask for directions and within minutes we’re surrounded by a group of men.  We’ve noticed that whenever and wherever we stop a group of men will materialise, as if from nowhere, and poke and prod our trikes and generally discuss them in Azeri?  Russian?

Out of Qax and it’s a lovely downhill on good tarmac.  Finally we spot a camping spot.   We’re sitting by our tent enjoying a beer when the local cowsman comes by. We check he’s happy that we’re here and he is but then warns us about snakes.  Thanks very much – I’m sure I’ll sleep soundly and not be listening for the slither and hiss of some scary, poisonous snake.  Oops – nearly forgot to mention the spotting of our first Azeri tortoise!

 

Friday 26th May – Abbas to Bucaq

Distance:  45.76 km
Average Speed: 9.83 kmh
Fastest Speed: 46.82 kmh
Total Distance: 13289.33  km

A night without snakey visitors – thank God.  It’s overcast today and there’s a little rain in the air so not much hope of drying our wet tent.  We picked up an escort – a local cyclist – who seemed determined to cycle with us and video the experience.

Our big plan today was to visit Şeki, it’s on the top 10 places to visit in Azerbaijan.   It was a long slog uphill but we finally made it.  We found a hotel receptionist who pointed us to the Palace/ Caravanserais – only 1km he said.  Well it was a damned sight longer and uphill and when we got there it wasn’t a total disappointment.

Back in the town centre we realised it’s prayer day and the town is full of men going to prayer.  We stopped for a delicious chicken kebab and then headed out.  We’ve had the usual photograph sessions and crowds of men staring at our trikes. Just before we camp I spot a roadside water stand and fill up our 10 litre bag then wash our waterbottles out as they are going a little green. The group of men are augmented this time by a couple of cops in a cop car. As we are sorting the water out we realise one of the men has jumped on Daz’s trike and is riding around on it. Daz normally doesn’t mind, but all the Azeri attention has hit the mark today. It’s worse as he hasn’t disengaged the parking brakes so Daz has a right go, even waving at the cops who stood there and did nothing! Anyhoo, we cycle on, one more car stops to speak to us then we find a secluded camp spot behind a line of trees and bushes.  It’s a bit noisy but private! Not much else to report.

Saturday 27th May – Bucaq to Qabala

Distance:  61.36 km
Average Speed:  11.11 kmh
Fastest Speed: 47.68 kmh
Total Distance: 13350.69  km

After an initial climb first thing, it’s an easy day.  We stop after about 3km to do a live video feed from a bridge.  At this point there’s thick cloud cover and it definitely looks like rain.  But 10km later the sun is shining and it’s a beautiful day.  We cycle through a village where every 5m or so there’s a lady with a tandor oven baking flat breads.

They start with balls of bread, knead them into a flatbread, brush with egg and then stick to the sides of the oven.  Some time later there’s numerous stalls selling jars of pickled produce.

Today we treat ourselves to a restaurant lunch; salad, bread and lamb chops, ribs and cutlets – it’s tasty but 31manat (that’s about triple what we’ve been paying for kebabs).  We stop at a petrol station – here a litre of premium petrol costs about 0.60€ – cheap!

We’ve done our 50km but decide to push on for Qabala.  Possibly a mistake because it’s 10km uphill.  We start to tire and ask at a petrol station if we can put our tent up but they say ‘No’.  There’s a track nearby and then loads of houses being built but sadly we can’t break in.

We carry on to Qabala but now it’s becoming built up and the rain is coming.  We’re looking everywhere to find a spot for our tent and then a group of men see us and tell us to go with them.  We’re taken to a house with a huge lean-to where we hope to put our tent but the man insists we use the house.  We even have a hot shower,  our first shower in 8 days.  Fabulous!   Unfortunately the man returns and wants money.

He doesn’t speak any English but rubs his fingers together in the universal sign and puts ‘50′ into his phone. We tell him we thought he was being kind. We feel really pissed off, but although we threaten to go (and possibly make him look bad in front of his friends) we really can’t be bothered and offer him 20.  He begrudgingly takes it, then tries to be all friendly again.

 

Sunday 28th May – Qabala to Tarcan

Distance:  54.38 km
Average Speed:  10.95 kmh
Fastest Speed: 53.72 kmh
Total Distance: 13405.07  km

Despite the money issue with the guy last night we were relieved we’d stayed when there was yet another storm with torrential rain and even hailstones – 8mm hailstones – got to be pleased we weren’t in our tent.  We’re up early and because there’s less stuff to pack, out the gates by 0830hrs.  Within 10 minutes we once again drenched in sweat, the humidity here seems to be the problem.  We head into Qabala because we need to print some documents that are needed in the UK.  What a pain!  We think a posh hotel will have printing equipment but then I spot an Internet Cafe.  Sadly no printers but plenty of PS4s for gaming.  Fortunately a young lad understands our problem and takes us to a photo processing shop where I can log into my Hotmail and print.  I’m pleasantly surprised,  I’d resigned myself to spending most of the day trying to get this job done.  After a coffee break to celebrate we head to the post office.  It’s Sunday but it’s open, in fact the whole town is open, it’s like a weekday.   However,  the post office might be open but to post a letter to the UK they’re technically shut.  (Apparently they can’t work out the cost on a Sunday).  All this has taken 2 hours so we best get cycling.

We stop for an early lunch since breakfast was so long ago and have beautiful views down over the valley and we can just see Ismayilli, our destination,  in the distance.  For most of the day we’ve got beautiful deciduous woods either side with picnic spots, çay and kebab cafes in abundance.  It’s very pretty, the sun glistens through the overhead canopy and thankfully the trees give us some respite from the heat.  Early afternoon we’re caught and stopped by 2 Portugese cyclists, Claudia and Luis.  They had spent some time with Beth and Max, the British cyclists we met on 24th May.  We chat for awhile but then they push on.  They want to be in Baku tomorrow and that’s about 195km away.

We reach Ismayilli and get some milk and shower gel.  We were hoping the woods and picnic spots would continue so we could find a cosy camping spot instead we’ve got open, rolling countryside.   

Once we’ve done our 50km quota we’re lucky enough to find water to fill our 10L reservoir and a couple of kilometers later stop to camp.  

 

Monday 29th May – Tarcan to Acidere River

Distance:  54.82 km
Average Speed:  9.89 kmh
Fastest Speed: 54.58 kmh
Total Distance: 13459.89  km

Last night we watched the lightning over the distant hills.  Daz said it wasn’t coming our way but he was wrong.

Happily I barely registered the event, just a dim awareness that it was raining and then back to sleep.  For me every second night is usually when I sleep long and deeply.  For Daz he usually sleeps 12+ hours every night but now he’s had 2 rotten nights’ sleep; last night because his air mattress deflated and he was lying on stones and the night before in Qabala wasn’t conducive to sleep!  We have more visitors, come to examine the strange British couple,  their tent and trikes.

It’s a beautiful sunny day but our rolling hills are no longer rolling, instead there’s basically 2 very long climbs between us and Samaxi and of course equally long descents.  On the first hill we spot a diplomatic plate (red with white letters).  The vehicle pulls over, it’s only the Cultural Attache, Elizabeth,  from the British Embassy in Baku.  

We have a nice chat and we’ll hopefully meet her again in Baku.  Conveniently she’s able to solve one of my problems; I need an independent witness to my signature for that pesky paperwork.   So she signs my paperwork on the side of the road – surreal!  Finally we hit the top of hill number 1 and stop for an early lunch.  

Then there’s an incredible downhill to the river but depressingly we can see the horrendous climb the other side.  And now it’s about 30 deg C.  It’s sweaty work.  It takes us a good couple of hours to make the top of the next hill (not because it’s long but because on a tough uphill I’m lucky if I can make 2.8kmph).

 Poor Daz is struggling too, his knees hurt and he’s got calf pains.  A nice drink break then we head down the other side.  We make a special detour into Samaxi to post that pesky paperwork only to discover it’s a public holiday.  Bizarrely, just like yesterday, the post office is open but not for this type of transaction.  No I don’t have any idea what transaction they are able to complete on a public holiday.  

So it’s back to the main road and once we’ve hit our quota we find somewhere to camp.  Actually there isn’t much choice because there’s a big hill right in front of us and I’m not grinding up there with my additional 10L of water!  So we end up on the veranda of an old Chapel (?).  I’m convinced it’s going to rain again tonight hence the desire for overhead cover.  Sausage and egg for tea tonight – tasty.

Tuesday 30th May – Acidere River to Musfiqabad

Distance:  87.28 km
Average Speed:  12.70 kmh
Fastest Speed: 66.21 kmh
Total Distance: 13547.17  km

Ahhhh – no rain last night and despite the traffic noise a good night’s sleep for all.  We’re in the Acidere valley and there are birds everywhere.  A pair of Hoppee birds, swallows in abundance and the yellow birds – the yellow Oriole.  There’s also 2 pairs of kestrels (definitely small hawks), one pair are nesting in the roof space of our building and if we weren’t in their way,would be entering and exiting through the loft hatch above our heads.  Unfortunately the heat in the tent drives us out by 8 am.  Yeuchhh – hating these early mornings.

We start with a long climb out of the valley and everything is beautifully green with herdsmen tending their flocks on the hills, some on horseback (the herdsmen not the sheep!)  Just after our start we spot another butcher with live chickens tethered by the leg and an enclosure with several sheep awaiting the chop.  There’s some meat hanging in the shop but none of it is refrigerated!  After about 20km we leave behind the beautiful green hills and move into a brown, rather arid area with a very strong wind which is mostly behind us, thank goodness!  There’s a pretty good dual carriageway for most of the day but for huge sections one side or the other is closed for roadworks.  But we cycle on the closed section and have the 2 lanes to ourselves – mostly.

However we do come a cropper when are progress is interrupted by a huge hole in the road.  Fortunately with a bit of effort we’re able to get through it.

This part of Azerbaijan is known as it desert region, there’s nothing about but brown hills and plains and few villages. We’ve struggled today to find any decent food so after a day of eating cake, biscuits, chocolate and other crap from petrol stations we’re overjoyed to hit the outskirts of Musfiqabad and a restaurant.

Meat and salad – result!  We cycle on and as we near Baku (only 25km to go) we manage to find a park with some trees for cover between the road and a row of factories.

Tent up and we are just in time to see the sun dipping down into the desert behind us.

 

Wednesday 31st May – Musfiqabad to Baku

Distance:  21.53 km
Average Speed:  14.13 kmh
Fastest Speed: 50.27 kmh
Total Distance: 13568.7  km

Another hot day and it seems we’re cycling into Baku in rush hour.  The traffic is heavy and smog and fumes are pretty horrendous but it’s great fun cycling into the centre of Baku.

We head straight to the British Embassy – well except we’re distracted by a McDonald’s and the thought of a sausage and egg McMuffin (it’s not even 1030hrs yet).   But sadly the Azeri breakfast menu in McDonald’s is a poor reflection of the real thing – looks like bread and cheese.  But we stop for coffee – there’s a fabulous view over the city centre and then a couple of blocks and we’re in the British Embassy.

Billy comes out to meet us and we go into the Embassy. We meet the British Ambassador – Carole and others. I need more documents to be printed and signed for the UK and once it’s all in the post we head to Billy’s gaff.  And what a fantastic apartment, next to Hard Rock Cafe with balconies and views out over the city.

After cleaning up it’s time for a curry – fabulous we haven’t had a curry since Portugal and it doesn’t disappoint.  Billy has a work function tonight so we just relax and enjoy some home comforts.

 

Thursday 1st June

Baku

Our main task today is to register with the Migration police.  If you’re staying longer that 10 days in Azerbaijan you have to register.  We head off to the Migration office, details supplied by Caravanistan but nope, they can’t help us, apparently we’re in the wrong place.  They tell us to get bus 202 and have given us the address of the correct office.  Off we trot and catch bus 202.  We show people the address, right bus, wrong direction.    

We catch another bus and show about 6 people the address and soon find someone who can help, who tells us which stop we need.  We’re at the Regional Migration Office, 189 Atatürk.  Brilliant we’re at the right place we have our passports, our visas and Billy’s address but we should have brought his ID number but then she decides we need the name and ID number of the guy who owns Billy’s apartment.   Several phone calls later and we’re sorted.  Next job – find equipment for our trikes; we need new tyres, tubes, a mudguard, bike shoes for Daz and a solar charger. Sadly after visiting several shops we’ve only managed bike tyres (and they’re not the Marathon Schwalbe we wanted) and tubes.  Bugger!  We’ve been chatting to Max and Beth (British cycling couple) and Luis and Claudia (Portuguese couple)  and they’re planning to leave on the next boat which they think is departing Friday.  We still haven’t received our Uzbekistan (UZ) LOIs so can’t leave until we’ve got that and our UZ visas.  Tonight we have a few drinks and food at the HardRock Cafe.

 

Friday 2nd June

Baku

This morning I realise my mail has been going into the ‘junk’ folder and there’s our LOIs.  We’ve unwittingly had them since Tuesday.   But we need  prints and passport photos before we visit the UZ Embassy.   Daz still has some bike shops to visit but depressingly he’s unsuccessful on his shopping mission.  Billy is a fabulous host and tonight he takes us to the Harbour Bar and we meet his colleague Steve.  

 

Saturday 3rd June

Baku

OK what pointless shopping mission should we attempt today.  We want a solar charger because if we have a couple of days of low speed and low mileage our SON dynamo can’t keep things charged.  Claudine (a teacher from Australia who works for BP) thinks there’s a camping shop that might help.  So we decide we’ll tie that in with walking Teddy and sightseeing.   Sadly the shopping trip is a complete failure but the sightseeing is great.

Baku, one of the world’s most beautiful cities is located at the joint of Europe and Asia. The capital’s name itself is interpreted as a “wind blow”, “city of winds” or “hill”, “city on the hill”.

The port city of Baku, the cultural, industrial and political capital of Azerbaijan is located on the western Caspian seaside, on the bay shores of the same name in the southern part of the Apsheron Peninsula, rich in its oil fields. Baku consists of 11 administrative districts and 5 townships.

 

We visit Martyrs Row the focal point of which is the main memorial with the eternal flame at the bottom at the end of the central avenue. The eternal flame is indeed a massive one – you can feel the heat from a couple of yards away (so don’t get too close or you might burn yourself).
The monument stands in the centre of a round open plaza right at the edge of the hillside. From up here you get one of the best views over Baku and the bay curving to the horizon to the east.
Closer to the bottom of the hillside you can also catch a good glimpse into the harbour and shipyards – as well as the new National Flag Square.  The central avenue is lined with walls of white marble into which polished black marble stones are set with the names of the martyrs honoured here and mostly also a photographic portrait etched on. Note that a few of the martyrs remain nameless. Here and there you may find a rose placed on the marble … on the anniversary date there’ll be thousands of them.

 

We also see the less trendy side of Baku with little shops selling local produce and even walk through an area where the locals have their own oil derricks.  

Back in the centre we’re going to head off and visit the Walled City of Baku with the Shirvanshah’s Palace and Maiden Tower.  
Built on a site inhabited since the Palaeolithic period, the Walled City of Baku reveals evidence of Zoroastrian, Sasanian, Arabic, Persian, Shirvani, Ottoman, and Russian presence in cultural continuity. The Inner City (Icheri Sheher) has preserved much of its 12th-century defensive walls. The 12th-century Maiden Tower (Giz Galasy) is built over earlier structures dating from the 7th to 6th centuries BC, and the 15th-century Shirvanshahs’ Palace is one of the pearls of Azerbaijan’s architecture.

Baku is currently preparing for the Grand Prix. The 2016 season saw Azerbaijan become the latest addition to the Formula One calendar, with capital city Baku playing host to the fastest street circuit in Formula One racing, on a layout designed by renowned F1 track architect Hermann Tilke.  “Our brief to Tilke Engineering was simple – create a circuit that is unique, one that will help the Grand Prix in Baku quickly establish itself as one of the most exciting, thrilling venues on the F1 calendar, and one that the fans and teams alike are excited about,” said Azad Rahimov, Azerbaijan’s Minister of Youth and Sport.

Sadly Billy is flying to the UK for a course so he’s leaving at midnight.  It a shame that he has to leave – Billy is an extraordinary chap and he has had many incredible experiences but due to the sensitive nature of his job I’ve been told it’s best not to repeat them .   Discretion is my watchword.  

Our last Billy night, but he’s very generously said we can use his flat as long as we need it.  Thank you Billy.

 

Sunday 4th June

Baku

This morning Daz heads downstairs to replace his tyres, correct his tracking and generally check over the trikes.  Someone has only gone and stolen our pump – arghhhhh.  So only the tracking is done.  We have a Brunch date at Four Seasons with Claudine, Karen, Greg and Casey.  All Australians and on the teaching circuit except Casey who’s a travelling journalist.  Freeflow Prosecco and Bloody Marys pretty much terminates constructive activity but the food, ambiance and service is superb and only 44 Manat per head – about 20Euros.

Brunch ends at 2.30pm and so we head back to our gaff (well Billy’s)  with Claudine, Karen and Teddy and decide since Billy is due posting in a couple of weeks we should help clear his drinks cupboard – yup very stupid and very naughty.   I know we’ll regret this tomorrow but not as much as Karen and Claudine who have to go to work.

Monday 5th June

Baku

Today is Uzbekistan visa day.  We’re up early and even though we know the Embassy doesn’t open until 10am we’re there at 9.30.  We’ve been beaten by 2 other cyclists, Thomas (Italian) and Perry (Australian).   At 9.50 they’re allowed into the Embassy whilst everyone else sits outside in the street, waiting.  About 15 minutes and they come out.  Our turn.  On this first visit we’re just given our paying slip (of course we all have our VISA application and UZ LOI from various tour companies).  Now back into town to the International Bank of Azerbaijan.  Daz and I had hopped in a taxi to get to the Embassy and asked him to wait.  So he takes the 4 of us to the bank, pay $75, get proof of payment, then back into taxi and return to the Embassy.  Of course all this takes time and now there are others queuing outside the Embassy.   So we sit and wait and wonder if we’ll make it before the Embassy closes for lunch.  Finally we’re called in and issued our UZ visa.  We’ve all amended the date of arrival into Uzbekistan from the date we put on our LOI.  Visa – done.

Next job visit the ferry office.  So once more our taxi driver is available. Each leg has been approximately 5km and he’s done 4 legs and been driving us or waiting for us for 3 hours.  Since 9.30.  He charges us 20Manat (so about 10€) and drops us by the ferry port.  We’ve been given directions to the Ferry office by Björn, Luis and Claudia so we know where to go.  We’re told to ring daily at 11am to check if there’s a ferry.  Vika (ticket sales) thinks there’ll be a ferry in the next 2 days.   So everything is sorted.  We just need to visit a Notary, to complete some paperwork for the UK and then a siesta is in order.  In the evening a quiet night in – movie night, Monster starring Charlize Theron.

 

Tuesday 6th June

Baku

Online shopping time.  Having failed to find numerous items in Baku, including new bike shoes for Daz and a solar charger, the only solution is to buy them online and then our admin hero (Debbie)  will forward them to somewhere down the line, perhaps Samarkand.  Next job fix the trikes.  So Daz, equipped with our new (but crappier) pump, replaces our inner tubes, his front tyres and fixes his rear mudguard.   Meanwhile I attempt to replace our Facebook Group with a Facebook page for more widespread publicity.  In the evening we join Claudine at the Hard Rock Cafe to listen to her school musicians perform.

Wednesday 7th June – Baku to Alat Ferry port

Distance:  70.30 km
Average Speed: 16.14 kmh
Fastest Speed: 35.05 kmh
Total Distance: 13639  km

In the morning we wake up a little weary.  Another late night, too many beers and not enough sleep and we’re feeling jaded.  But we’re convinced there won’t be a boat today.

11am – make duty phone call to Vika at the port, “Any boat today?”… “Yes. Come and buy ticket.” Arghhhhh, mad rush!!

11.05. Daz heads off to buy the ferry tickets, I clean, pack, and draft the Azerbaijan blog.

12.00.  Daz returns with ferry tickets.  80US$ each.  We need to be at Alat by 8/9pm tonight.

1pm – We’re all packed and our trikes are loaded and it’s time to say ‘Goodbye’ to our incredible flat.  Billy thank you again for hosting us and providing such fabulous entertainment.   You are one in a million (or possibly 10million????). We head out of Baku – aren’t we lucky that it’s now probably the hottest part of the day!

 

1 – 6.30pm.  70km to Alat on a flat, open road.  We make good time but we’re fortunate it’s not a head wind.  We stop a few times for drinks and food.  At its hottest it’s 37 deg C.

 

6.30pm.  We arrive at Alat port and meet Perry, Thomas (Australian and Italian cyclist), Justin (UK), Marta and Coco (Spanish couple).  They decided not to cycle but came by taxis. After a compulsory photoshoot with the guards at the barriers we go through and we’re told to wait.

6.30-10.30pm.  It’s a waiting game.  There’s a portacabin shop/restaurant and banks to exchange money so Daz gets rid of his remaining Azeri Manat.  We’ve been told by Björn and then Luis that after a long wait, the lorries will load and then the cyclist.  They loaded at 6am and 3am respectively.   So since we’re pretty tired we put our tent up so we can at least relax and read and possibly snooze.

10.30pm.  The guys call us.  Apparently it’s loading time.  After packing up it’s another long wait.

 

1am.  Finally we’re called forward, our documents are checked and we cycle into the ferry hold.  We take essentials from our baggage and struggle up hellishly steep steps to the reception area.  We know we can have a cabin and because there’s 2 couples we’re (Magda, Coco, Daz and me) allocated a 4-man room with an ensuite.  The other lads are less fortunate and end up in a tiny 4 man room with no bathroom and no window.  Their room is sweltering.  A quick shower in the very grubby toilet space and into bed! We made it! Kazakhstan here we come.

 

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Georgia; Batumi to Tbilisi to Lagodekhi – 28th April to 22nd May

Friday 28th Aprili