Archive for the ‘Cycling’ Category


Surreal scenes of waterfalls, greenery, skies with fluffy clouds. In the foreground lions, maidens with milk jugs or kingfishers with freshly caught fish. These posters hang proudly in every café, hotel and restaurant. Today I dreamed about the cool water in the scene, tried to ignore the whoozy stomach and lethargy, and lay down to rest in front of the fan. Today was scorching.

Waterfall paradise

Waterfall paradise

The sun was blazing down, the road rose and fell in an undulating, dry, barren landscape. The road surface was horrendous, and I felt nauseous. It was 12:30 and I pulled into the first café I saw and flaked out on the carpet couch. I couldn’t face anything to eat. I just sipped on a cold bottle of Coke.

Midday rest

Midday rest

After a couple of hours, I managed to put away an ice-cream and some salad, and didn’t feel so hot and lack-lustre. Then a commotion outside. A second cyclist – Maxime from France. A cycling partner for the day.

Then we ran into another 3 cyclists coming the other direction. We chatted in the shade of some trees, putting off the departure back into the heat.

Before the heat struck, it was a lovely descent from Boysun into a surreal landscape – big bumps in the landscape, and a mountain range of plates of rock sticking up from the plains at an obscure angle.

Bumpy landscape

Bumpy landscape

Donkey

Donkey

The road has everything

The road has everything

Tomorrow Tajikistan if I am up to leaving the hotel.


Uphill again into the town of Boysun. There were rumours of a B&B registered for tourists. I had made the major climbs in the early morning and in the late afternoon, but still, I was knackered. Then a boy jumped out.
‘Hotel?’
‘Yes!’

Landscape near Boysun

Landscape near Boysun

Cycling in the mountains and heat takes planning. On the menu today was a big climb, a big drop, and a second big climb. This was done on a mixed bag of brand new roads and bumpy, rocky, sandy affairs. Its nice being in the mountains again. Lovely views, and it is not quite so hot.

Approaching the pass

Approaching the pass

Mountain ridge

Mountain ridge

Herder

Herder

My standard 3 hour afternoon rest/sleep. This time I was harassed by flies – and they bite!

Midday rest

Midday rest

My B&B has found a niche in the market – cycling tourists that are required to stay in registered hotels by the Uzbekistan government. Apparently there are cyclists most nights this time of year.


I’m on the cycle road to Dushanbe. I hear word of other cyclists that have passed. People are not surprised by my destination. Cycle in the morning. Sleep after lunch. Cold shower and then on into the evening. Cycling in the central Asian heat.

Midday rest

Midday rest

Today I was given a screw. A kind gentleman helped me out at the garage when I discovered a screw had come loose and fallen off making my front pannier wave around. Today I was given a piece of watermelon. And today I was given lots of encouragement toots.

Watermelon

Watermelon

And I am happy. I’ve left the endless hot, flat plains. I’ve climbed into the hills. It doesn’t feel so stiflingly hot and the scenery is nicer. Bring on the Pamir Mountains!

Up from the plains

Up from the plains


Campsite

Campsite


Burnt and frazzled, I sit in my hotel in Qashi which is registered to host foreigners. Note to self: sun-screen bought in Uzbekistan does not work. Second note to self: allow 2 hours to find a hotel able to host foreigners. Officially I need to stay and register in a hotel every night. Tomorrow night I am camping.

That golden smile

That golden smile

Central Asia is heating up. After noon it is like a furnace, and any self-respecting cyclist is having a siesta – or trying to – lying on a carpet sofa being offered vodka, and discussing German football.

A 3-hour lunch-time break was opted for when I noticed my arms were bright red. My newly bought sunscreen seemed to have no effect – certainly not the SPF60 claimed on the tube. I told the people with the vodka of this – Uzekistan sunscreen no good. Shocked and insulted they investigated the tube – it’s made it India. Not Uzbekistan. Relief.

I was told that when in a big city I need to stay in a hotel and register (as there is a hotel, and there is no excuse not to use it). After Qashi, hotels are a bit thin on the ground, so I can camp and have a good excuse at the border. Well, try to find the hotel in Qashi. A first random cycle around resulted in nothing. Asking someone for a hotel meant that I sat in his office while he phoned some people to find out. I then was taken to a hotel – one which is not allowed to house foreigners. They took me to a second – which is also not allowed to house foreigners. I am staying at the third. I’m looking forward to my tent tomorrow. No hassle.


With a bit of time on my hands, and a good internet connection, I have put together a video of the next leg of my bike trip. See what you think.. 🙂


What did I do in Bukhara? Sleep. Vegetate. Blog. Bog (toilet). Video. I went for a short walk around the old town. I’m not a normal tourist. Bukhara was down-time for me. Not cycling.

Bukhara

Bukhara

In Bukhara I spent quite some time on the toilet. My body said it had had enough of cycling – it decided to make sure I get some rest. So, I got the shits. The excitement increased when I tried the local remedy – doping.

Salt and glucose solutions

Salt and glucose solutions

Samarqand is a big detour on the way to Dushanbe in Tajikistan. I wanted to see it, but I didn’t want to cycle an extra 300km through the heat – so – I became a normal tourist and caught the train (Bukhara – Samarqand – Bukhara). I can confirm that I prefer cycle tourism. A lot of elbow-work was needed to finally reach the counter at the train station to get the ticket (like how I remember India). In Samarqand, the people contact was more professional – I was a tourism customer. My bike is the key to making personal contacts to people, and I didn’t have Drahtesel (my bike). I purchased tickets to see the sights. I negotiated guide prices. People called out to me to buy souvenirs, bracelets, carpets, hats. The sights in Samarqand were beautiful. I have now seen them.

Samarqand

Samarqand

Samarqand

Samarqand


‘Why are you taking a photo?’
Thomas was taking a photo of me walking to the toilet with a jug of water to wash my backside.
The man was worried. Was his toilet no good?
‘You explain, Thomas. I need to go!’
Going to the toilet in Uzbekistan.

Going to the toilet

Going to the toilet

‘In the west we use toilet paper.’
‘We have toilet paper too!’ The man was insulted. Uzbekistan people are advanced too.
‘Yes, but you only use it to dry your backside after cleaning it with water.’
‘Yes.’ This was a yes as in, that’s obvious, why mention it. ‘You don’t use water?’
‘Yes, but only after we have cleaned our backside with toilet paper.’
It was becoming clear, a detailed explanation was required. I explained the two methods with graphic detail, acting out all the actions so I could be understood. The man – a café owner – grinned, showing us his lovely golden smile.

Cafe owner

Cafe owner

When I left Europe, I would have found this eastern method of toilet hygiene challenging. Now it is the most natural thing in the world. Indeed, it is more hygienic than using toilet paper.

We have now left Turkmenistan, and there is no visa time pressure. This means we sleep in, cycle at a snail’s pace, and have an afternoon snooze.

Afternoon snooze

Afternoon snooze


I am lying in my hotel in Uzbekistan with my wheelbarrow of money, exhausted. Not from today, but from the Turkmenistan dash. A 70km ride into the wind with lots of stops meant today was a slow down from the last days, and got us to within a bull’s roar of Burkhara.

Money money money

Money money money

The border crossing was harmless. After our horror Iranian border crossing, we went expecting the worst, and were greeted with smiles and efficient people. Again, we were greeted by loads of people on the road. Everywhere you go, people are lovely. It’s a thing common in the world!

In Turkmenistan they have saved money on road signs. I think I saw about 2 road signs showing directions in the whole country. Crossing into Uzbekistan, we passed a cool one. Exotic places so close!

Exotic places are near!

Exotic places are near!


I have almost cycled across Turkmenistan in 3 days – just 40km tomorrow to the border. Today I drank 10 litres of water and 3.5 litres of soft drink. I cycled 190km through temperatures up to 41.1C, with a moderate headwind from 11 to 4 o’clock. And I met lovely people in the desert. The desert is vast, hot, and beautiful!

Bikes at sunrise

Bikes at sunrise

The desert contains sand, camels, camel signs, and 12% slope signs (even though the slope would not have been more than 3%).

Camel

Camel

Camel sign

Camel sign

Steep?

Steep?

The desert also contains little cute black beetles that patrol the dunes. Their footprints criss-cross the scorching sand.

Beetle

Beetle

And the desert contains little villages on the train line – every 15km or so. When the heat was approaching being unbearable, I went into one of the villages and had a lovely talk with the shop owner and her children.

Shop owner

Shop owner

Desert animals

Desert animals

Hot!!

Hot!!

I also passed 11000km today – in the morning before the wind and the heat started.

11000km

11000km

I cycled on into the evening, and arrived at a hotel in Turkmenabat, only to be called out to by Thomas. Huh? He was miles behind me. He had taken a bus 80km back as it was too hot and too far to Turkmenabat. We are now all ready to leave Turkmenistan within the 4 days. I am proud to have made it.


Today was the day to put the foot down on the accelerator and make some kilometres to cross Turkmenistan in four days. The wind didn’t agree with this plan, made it a long day, and meant I left Thomas who was slower in the wind. Other than cycling, I tried my hand in making Turkmenistan savoury pastries – I wasn’t too good at it.

Sleepy dog

Sleepy dog

I was kind of waiting to enter the centre of the city of Mary where there were shops, people walking around, and a pleasant atmosphere. I kept on cycling on the main road, passed some big roundabouts and some impressive official buildings adorned with the president’s picture, and came out the other end. My conclusion: Turkmenistan cities are not that exciting – I much prefer the endless roads spanning the flat desolate plains. I love bleak and dry landscape. Here is a photo of the big mosque in Mary.

Mosque in Mary

Mosque in Mary

Before Mary I stopped at a tiny shop with nothing – except some lovely people that were making lunch for their family and customers. I was allowed to try to make a savoury pastry before it was stuck to the side of a clay oven. It was fascinating to watch it being made, even if my attempt to make one was a failure.

Preparing lunch

Preparing lunch

I am staying at the last café for 60km of desert. The last stretch to Turkmenabat is long, desolate, and empty. That’s for tomorrow..

P.S. I was about to go to bed and Thomas walked in to the café where I was sleeping. A big congratulation, and then he sat down to eat. He had cycled on through the evening, and joined me for the night in Zehmet.