Wednesday, 5 September 2007
After staying for a few days in Dushanbe, I was more than ready to leave as I'd had enough of the city and was more than ready to get back on my bike. I met a Finnish guy who spoke Russian and together we had found a flat to stay in. It was an interesting search as first he called a taxi driver whom he had met previously. Apparently, this guy had some cheap flats we could rent. We drove with him a long way to the edge of the city where he took us to a flat. He assured us it was a short walk back to the city!! 
Yeah, right. He unlocked the door and showed us a bare flat and as we entered there were two very embarrassed guys in one of the rooms speedily pulling on all their clothes!! Hmm! Needless to say, we made our excuses and made tracks at high speed. Later, we found a nice Russian lady that took us in for 5 dollars a night, but unfortunately it was on the 8th floor of a high rise flat. It was quite a climb with all my bags but an OK place to rest up for a few days. After all my flat tyres I decided to give the Pamir Highway in Tajikistan a miss and take a shorter route along the Garm Valley to the border crossing at Jirgital into Kyrgyzstan. I had been warned this might be closed but as the Lonely Planet said it was open, I carried on regardless.
It was a nice ride along the valley with fairly nice roads. In a couple of places the road detoured and followed the river bed which meant it was extremely hard going. Just big rocks with fine dust filling the air from any passing traffic. Along the way villagers filled the road with harvested wheat ready for threshing by passing traffic. One day I met Peter Gostelow, who is cycling back to England. We stopped for a coffee and had a nice chat before I carried on towards Kyrgyzstan. Around 4okm before the border a lazy, lounging soldier told me the border was closed but as I was so close I carried on and soon arrived at a checkpoint. I somehow managed to persuade the two guards to let me carry on to the border proper. On arrival, the guards took my passport and looked it over for 5 minutes and then declared that I could not pass and that I must go back around the Pamir Highway, just an 800km detour.
I tried for a while to per
suade them that it was a good idea to let me cross, but they weren't too interested. As I was waiting to talk to the chief, a younger guard stood in the corridor with me and whispered his plan to smuggle me across at 3 in the morning. The more he whispered the less I understood what he was on about and quickly decided it would be a very bad idea. He assured me otherwise! I used their phone and called the British Embassy but go cut off, so that didn't help the situation either. Afterwards the guy wanted money and kept going on about sputnik! I told him I had no money or food, and at this point they lightened up and shared their lunch with me. Later they gave me a room and we even had freshly caught trout for dinner. The lorry drivers who came to the border tried to persuade the guards to let me through but still they wouldn't budge, so the next morning I planned to have one last try at crossing and if I had no luck, would take a truck back to the main road.
The next dayI tried to bribe the guards but had no luck and as no traffic had come by midday I started to cycle back to where I had come from. I stopped after 40km and stayed with a very lovely family who gave me very good food and were incredibily kind. The next day I continued to cycle and after 120km saw a truck that was going in the same direction. I jumped on and got a lift back to the main road where I slept in a small chaihouse. Two more meals were bought for me and eventually I could eat no
more.
In the morning I flagged down the first truck I saw and took a lift to around 50km from Khorog. The driver, Olim, turned out to be extremely kind and refused to take any money for the lift. We drove over the high pass with many switch-backs and saw mine clearance teams working around the summit. Olim really enjoyed the sweet scent of the herbs growing in the surrounding meadows and took off down the road for his weekly 100m high altitude jog and soon returned feeling revitalised!! We stopped at some pleasant shady chaihouses along the way for meals and sat with Olims friends who were driving in convoy with us.
In Khorog I stayed at the Pamir Lodge Guest House which is run by extremely nice people. Here I met Mark, a Dutch cyclist and also some Isreali cyclists touring from China to Europe. I joined Mark and we cycled together for 5 days on to Murgab. Just before Murgab I passed a checkpoint but didn't stop until the guys head popped out of the window and called me back. Mark on the other hand came a few minutes later and decided to just carry on while the guy shouted at him. As Mark reached me a small green Lada pulled up and a very irate guard jumped out and started shouting at Mark. After much shouting he pulled a pistol from his belt and marched Mark back to the checkpoint, all the time with Mark desperately trying to make excuses. I sat eating my snickers having a good chuckle!!
Murgab is probably my least favourite town in the world and as I arrived I already had a strong urge to leave. The Lonely Planet describes it as a 'wildwest' town which looks better the further you are from it, which is quite right. There is not much going for the place and even less for Hotel Murgab. Our room was cheap which is to be expected when to turn the light on you must join two bare wires together, and to lock the door you must barricade it with panniers and bikes! There is no water apart from a dirty bucket sitting in the entrance which had probably been there for a good few weeks. I never did discover where the bathroom was but don't think I missed out on too much.
We arranged a truck and were woken at 4am and agreed a price which was a little expensive, but as we both wanted to leave quickly we tied our bikes on and the truck drove towards Lake Karakul. Mark got off at Karakul and I continued on to Sary Tash in Kyrgyzstan. It is a
spectacular route with many high mountains and the highest pass in the Pamirs at 4600m. The truck had a bad overheating problem which meant we had to stop every 10km at streams and top up the radiator with fresh water. We passed the border and came down towards Sary Tash in a wide green valley dotted with yurts right up to the Chinese border.
The Pamir plateau is very dry with some beautiful sky blue lakes . The greener areas around the streams are full of big, golden, marmots and golden eagles, along with a few vultures that soar around the peaks. We didn't manage to see any of the famous marco polo sheep or ibex along the way, but this wasn't surprising as they are scarce due to overhunting. We did see a fox one evening and a few scrub hares.
From Sary Tash in Kyrgyzstan the road is incredibly bad right up to the Chinese border then it suddenly becomes the smoothest tarmac that I have seen for many months. On the day I entered China I met a Swiss couple cycling, Natalie and Kurt. We camped together and the next day in the afternoon I met another Swiss couple, Sandra and Evo, just as two gay motorcylists were riding next to me and trying it on. I stopped with Sandra and Evo for a while until the motorcylist left us, and then cycled into Kashgar with them. We're now in cyclist heaven!
There is such great food here and I have been eating as much as possible. There are also loads of cyclists here who are heading to Tibet. The two German guys Jo and Nils arrived and soon we will leave together. I've met some great people and had some lovely meals!! 
12000km completed and now another 2500km to get to Katmandu. My bike is holding up well apart from the spate of punctures. There is a goodish bike shop here in Kashgar so I have made some repairs and bought spares. The road will probably be pretty bad form here on, with a lack of tar and with high passes up to 5400m to contend with. Also there won't be too much good food along the road so we are stocking up with goodies before we set out. When I arrive in Katmandu hopefully I will be able to write a fuller account of the past few weeks - unfortunately I have just skipped over the surface here.
Yeah, right. He unlocked the door and showed us a bare flat and as we entered there were two very embarrassed guys in one of the rooms speedily pulling on all their clothes!! Hmm! Needless to say, we made our excuses and made tracks at high speed. Later, we found a nice Russian lady that took us in for 5 dollars a night, but unfortunately it was on the 8th floor of a high rise flat. It was quite a climb with all my bags but an OK place to rest up for a few days. After all my flat tyres I decided to give the Pamir Highway in Tajikistan a miss and take a shorter route along the Garm Valley to the border crossing at Jirgital into Kyrgyzstan. I had been warned this might be closed but as the Lonely Planet said it was open, I carried on regardless.
It was a nice ride along the valley with fairly nice roads. In a couple of places the road detoured and followed the river bed which meant it was extremely hard going. Just big rocks with fine dust filling the air from any passing traffic. Along the way villagers filled the road with harvested wheat ready for threshing by passing traffic. One day I met Peter Gostelow, who is cycling back to England. We stopped for a coffee and had a nice chat before I carried on towards Kyrgyzstan. Around 4okm before the border a lazy, lounging soldier told me the border was closed but as I was so close I carried on and soon arrived at a checkpoint. I somehow managed to persuade the two guards to let me carry on to the border proper. On arrival, the guards took my passport and looked it over for 5 minutes and then declared that I could not pass and that I must go back around the Pamir Highway, just an 800km detour.I tried for a while to per
suade them that it was a good idea to let me cross, but they weren't too interested. As I was waiting to talk to the chief, a younger guard stood in the corridor with me and whispered his plan to smuggle me across at 3 in the morning. The more he whispered the less I understood what he was on about and quickly decided it would be a very bad idea. He assured me otherwise! I used their phone and called the British Embassy but go cut off, so that didn't help the situation either. Afterwards the guy wanted money and kept going on about sputnik! I told him I had no money or food, and at this point they lightened up and shared their lunch with me. Later they gave me a room and we even had freshly caught trout for dinner. The lorry drivers who came to the border tried to persuade the guards to let me through but still they wouldn't budge, so the next morning I planned to have one last try at crossing and if I had no luck, would take a truck back to the main road.The next dayI tried to bribe the guards but had no luck and as no traffic had come by midday I started to cycle back to where I had come from. I stopped after 40km and stayed with a very lovely family who gave me very good food and were incredibily kind. The next day I continued to cycle and after 120km saw a truck that was going in the same direction. I jumped on and got a lift back to the main road where I slept in a small chaihouse. Two more meals were bought for me and eventually I could eat no
more.In the morning I flagged down the first truck I saw and took a lift to around 50km from Khorog. The driver, Olim, turned out to be extremely kind and refused to take any money for the lift. We drove over the high pass with many switch-backs and saw mine clearance teams working around the summit. Olim really enjoyed the sweet scent of the herbs growing in the surrounding meadows and took off down the road for his weekly 100m high altitude jog and soon returned feeling revitalised!! We stopped at some pleasant shady chaihouses along the way for meals and sat with Olims friends who were driving in convoy with us.
In Khorog I stayed at the Pamir Lodge Guest House which is run by extremely nice people. Here I met Mark, a Dutch cyclist and also some Isreali cyclists touring from China to Europe. I joined Mark and we cycled together for 5 days on to Murgab. Just before Murgab I passed a checkpoint but didn't stop until the guys head popped out of the window and called me back. Mark on the other hand came a few minutes later and decided to just carry on while the guy shouted at him. As Mark reached me a small green Lada pulled up and a very irate guard jumped out and started shouting at Mark. After much shouting he pulled a pistol from his belt and marched Mark back to the checkpoint, all the time with Mark desperately trying to make excuses. I sat eating my snickers having a good chuckle!!
Murgab is probably my least favourite town in the world and as I arrived I already had a strong urge to leave. The Lonely Planet describes it as a 'wildwest' town which looks better the further you are from it, which is quite right. There is not much going for the place and even less for Hotel Murgab. Our room was cheap which is to be expected when to turn the light on you must join two bare wires together, and to lock the door you must barricade it with panniers and bikes! There is no water apart from a dirty bucket sitting in the entrance which had probably been there for a good few weeks. I never did discover where the bathroom was but don't think I missed out on too much.
We arranged a truck and were woken at 4am and agreed a price which was a little expensive, but as we both wanted to leave quickly we tied our bikes on and the truck drove towards Lake Karakul. Mark got off at Karakul and I continued on to Sary Tash in Kyrgyzstan. It is a
spectacular route with many high mountains and the highest pass in the Pamirs at 4600m. The truck had a bad overheating problem which meant we had to stop every 10km at streams and top up the radiator with fresh water. We passed the border and came down towards Sary Tash in a wide green valley dotted with yurts right up to the Chinese border.
The Pamir plateau is very dry with some beautiful sky blue lakes . The greener areas around the streams are full of big, golden, marmots and golden eagles, along with a few vultures that soar around the peaks. We didn't manage to see any of the famous marco polo sheep or ibex along the way, but this wasn't surprising as they are scarce due to overhunting. We did see a fox one evening and a few scrub hares.From Sary Tash in Kyrgyzstan the road is incredibly bad right up to the Chinese border then it suddenly becomes the smoothest tarmac that I have seen for many months. On the day I entered China I met a Swiss couple cycling, Natalie and Kurt. We camped together and the next day in the afternoon I met another Swiss couple, Sandra and Evo, just as two gay motorcylists were riding next to me and trying it on. I stopped with Sandra and Evo for a while until the motorcylist left us, and then cycled into Kashgar with them. We're now in cyclist heaven!
There is such great food here and I have been eating as much as possible. There are also loads of cyclists here who are heading to Tibet. The two German guys Jo and Nils arrived and soon we will leave together. I've met some great people and had some lovely meals!! 
12000km completed and now another 2500km to get to Katmandu. My bike is holding up well apart from the spate of punctures. There is a goodish bike shop here in Kashgar so I have made some repairs and bought spares. The road will probably be pretty bad form here on, with a lack of tar and with high passes up to 5400m to contend with. Also there won't be too much good food along the road so we are stocking up with goodies before we set out. When I arrive in Katmandu hopefully I will be able to write a fuller account of the past few weeks - unfortunately I have just skipped over the surface here.
Scott
Kashgar August 2007
Wednesday, 8 August 2007
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I've now arrived in Dushanbe, Tajikistan, after stopping in Samarkand for a few days at the famous Bahodirs B and B. Samarkand is a pleasant city with tree lined streets and some really beautiful buildings such as the centre piece, the Registan, which must be seen to be believed.
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After 10km I had a puncture but after fixing it I made the border in good time and sat and had a late breakfast with the border guards and watched a bad action film on their small tv. I was welcomed into Tajikistan and from the first minute met extremely kind and friendly people. One guy called me over to where he stood amongst his grape vines, and loaded me up with 5 bunches of very sweet grapes. After a short chat about football I went on my way. All the people gave a polite nod or hello as I passed and many offered some chai. When I did stop for chai I was given fried eggs and water-melon before being sent on my way. One evening I saw a lovely house on top of a hill around a 1km from the road. A few minutes later I stopped and talked to some women who insisted on having their photos taken. I asked where I could sleep for the night and they told me to follow two kids on a motorcycle...back up the road I went to the house I had seen, where I was fed plov, water-melon and sweet chai while savouring the lovely view over the lush valley.
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The next day I had to climb the Anzob pass. Everyone told me about the new tunnel so I decided to take this shortcut and save 20km. By this time I had had a few more punctures and was starting to get a little frustrated. I could find no cause and every time I patched a hole, 10km later the tyre would go flat again. I reached the tunnel after having to put my bike in the back of some guy's car, as he assured me I could not get up the last few kms of road. After throwing water on his engine and tweaking a few bits he pushed his car down the hill, before pumping the accelerator like crazy until the engine burst into life. We reached the tunnel and found that it was closed to the public.
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No matter, the workers first gave me lunch and then loaded my bike and me onto a crane and drove me through. For over half the 5km a river a foot deep was gushing down to the entrance which would have made cycling a tad tricky!! We drove through the water slowly and passed tunnel boring machines and a few guys wearing thick dirty clothes, themselves coated in dirt and mud. Every so often a plaque on the wall emerged out of the gloom signifying where a worker had died. This really sent a chill down my spine. Half way down we stopped and loaded up a big generator on to the back of the crane, meaning there was no space for my bike. One of the guys jumped on and cycled the last 2km while we slowly passed under the concrete forms where guys were coating the inside of the tunnel with concrete. The fumes were thick and by the time we reached the far side I felt quite faint. I don't know how guys work in there all day with hardly any light and no clean air. Really incredible.
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At the far side it was all down hill to Dushanbe but at this point the punctures really started coming thick and fast which really put a dampner on the beautiful scenery. By the time I was 25km from the city I had had 21 flats and was getting severely hacked off. Down to my last patch and with no explanation for why the holes kept coming, I stopped a car and took a lift into the city. All the holes came on the rim side of the tube so I can only imagine its the edge of the rim tape that caused them as it had become dry and a little sharp. With no new tape no solution seemed possible until Dushanbe. I couldn't believe my luck as I had not had a flat all the way from UK to Uzbekistan. I put new tyres on in Samarkand so maybe this helped cause the holes...who knows though as they are marathon xrs and should not be a problem!
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I met a Fnnish guy, Illka in Dushanbe, and together, after a very interesting search round the city, we managed to find a cheap apartment to stay in, with a russian lady. Illka speaks Russian and together we should be able to find some new tubes for my bike and sort everything out. I'm thinking about giving the Pamir Highway a miss and heading straight for China, where I can spend a while in Kashgar getting into condition for the Tibet crossing. I know I will regret not seeing the Highway but there's always next time and after the last few days I fancy getting to a good bike shop (in China) and making sure everything is sweet with my bike.
Adios, Scott
Thursday, 26 July 2007
The last two weeks have probably been the most testing stage in my journey so far, but I have also had some of the most enjoyable experiences. Temperatures have been very high, roads bad, distances long and food and water a little scarce. Please read on.......
With the help of Marko from 1000 Camels Hostel in Baku we managed to secure tickets for the ferry crossing fro Baku to Aktau with relative ease. I later learned that some other cyclists waited nine days to make the crossing and had to watch one ferry leave, without even getting close to boarding. They eventually needed to ask their embassies to help them get tickets after Elmira the Ticket Witch refused to deal with them!
The night before the ferry sailed we moved down to the port and stayed with a family for two dollars a night, which made a nice change from the prices of Baku hotels. We had an enjoyable wait spent with two Georgians - Georgy (aka Mr vodka) and his friend whose name I forget. We listened to the Beatles, drank vodka, beer and chai and swatted mosquitos late into the evening.
We eventually got on the ferry after a very tedious unloading of trucks and railway cars, and grabbed two cabins and settled down for the 18 hour Caspian sea crossing. Carlo and I had stocked up with a bit of food as the crossing is renowned for taking a long time. We had a cabin towards the bow of the boat so had a nice breeze coming through the porthole, so slept well. In the morning I woke to see what I thought was Aktau but was soon discovered it was Baku, and that because of a storm we had anchored up for the night to wait out the bad weather. The crossing eventually took 56 hours but it was fairly enjoyable as there was good company and much time to spend sleeping and eating!!
Carlo and I met Raf Aliyev, the communications officer on the ferry, whose hobby is learning English. Raf treated us to coffee, tea and chocolates in his confortable cabin and told us some interesting stories about the ferry and his career in ships. Raf had seriously been learning English for 3 months and could speak it pretty much fluently which I was very impressed by, considering my lack of Russian. I partiularly liked his comment on the ships doctor who is also the cook. He said in a heavy russian accent "if you are sick on our boat and have a wish to die please see our doctor" hmm. no getting sick then!! Apart from sleeping, the journey was spent playing cards with Carlo, Neil and Harriet while eating a considerable amount of sunflower seeds. In this part of the world people sit and eat seeds all day to alleviate boredom I guess. Its not a particularly fun past time but after much practice it becomes easy and you don't end up with bits of shell stuck in your t
eeth like I do all the time.
We reached Aktau on the morning of the third day and had cleared customs by around lunchtime. Carlo unfortunately had problems clearing his motorbike as the customs officers had gone to lunch etc etc. I started to ride into aktau but only got a few hundred metres when I saw three touring cyclists coming towards me. They turned out to be the guys who had been waiting for the ferry for 9 days and were now trying to catch a truck through the greater part of Kazakstan. The truck was stuck in customs and there was a lack of other trucks going in their direction so they spent another 5 days waiting in Aktau after their lovely time spent in Baku. I will hopefully meet Nils and Jo in Kashgar and cycle to Tibet with them, while Eva must go back to Europe for studying.
The cyclists and Neil and Harriet decided to go to the train station so I changed some money, got some supplies and scooted out of town and into the desert. Unfortunately I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to Carlo as he was still stuck at port. As my maps didn't cover the first 500km to Beyneu, I had luckily been able to photograph Nils and jos ryse know how map and planned to take the shortcut to Shepte, saving myself 70km. I left aktau and before I knew it was completely lost deep in the desert. The town ended quickly and then there was ve
ry little to see apart from some electricity lines, many camels and miles and miles of desert! The asphalt ran out after 40km and the road turned to gravel and sand. There were some interesting landforms at first but later it became much flatter with nothingness as far as you could see. I came to a triple fork in the road with absolutely no idea of which way to go. The map showed I should have crossed the railway maybe 4 times but I think I had crossed only twice. I chose to go right as there was no one to ask directions and I had to make a guess. After a few km's a truck came so I flagged it down and worked out from the driver that I was going completly the wrong way, so I headed back and took the first turning that led me even deeper into the desert along an even sandier road. By this time I had maybe covered 60-70km and returning was not an option. I was becoming a little worried as I didn't have a great amount of water as I had planned to load up at Shepte. Plans of how to build a solar still were begining to pop in and out of my head!
I soon came to the railway which was a good sign as I knew it must go to Shetpe. I followed this for a while and after 90km stopped and spent my first night in the desert. This was really special. There was no man made noise, no lights, no aeroplanes, nothing, just stars and silence - beautiful. There was no need for a tent so I just lay on the sand and admired the stars and wondered what lay ahead in the next few days. I could not believe I had made it all the way to Kazakstan from the UK.
The next morning I woke before sunrise and got going to beat the heat of the day. I saw no one for the first few hours of the day. The road became worse as it followed a dry river bed for a while meaning I had to resort to pushing through the sand for a few km's. By this time I had covered over a hundred km's and was really starting to doubt whether I was going the right way. The distance on the map looked a lot less than what I had actually covered. I was also running low on water but by mid mornng I came to a small house and was greeted by two young kazak boys pulling a cart with an urn of water on top. I asked if I could have some and quickly the younger boy ran off and returned with a bottle of ice! I couldn't believe my luck! Happy days! They also told me that Shepte was close which quickly raised my spirits. I pushed on and arrived in town around lunchtime, where I stocked up with more water and some food. I was glad to be leaving town as quickly as I had arrived as there was even less to see than in the desert!
From shepte I was back on the main road to Beyneu, so was happier that I actually knew where I was going. I relaxed a bit and enjoyed the emptiness of the desert. There really is nothing but three or four towns and a couple of small shops for the 1100km or so to Nukus in Uzbekistan. First I passed Sayotesh after a few hundred km's, and then after 470km from Aktau I came to Beyneu which is a larger town with a decent bazaar. I carried up to 16 litres of water as I was unsure how often I would be able to stock up. I could have got away with a little less but it was nice to know that I had enough for a day and a half. Of couse it was incredibly hot during the day so I had to resort to 8 hour siestas spent in culverts under the road. These culverts really were life savers, as spending so long in the tent in the midday sun is not much fun. I would be on the road everyday before sunrise after a meal of cold pasta and snickers and make the most of the cool morning weather. Then around 9-10 I would find shade and sleep and then cycle again from 4-5 o'clock until darkness. Midday temperatures have been around 45 so cycling really is out of the question unless you're crazy!
Occasionally a truck or jeep would stop and the guys would jump out, shake my hand while enquiring where I was from. Really nice friendly people. One day a small blue car stopped and two guys got out and proceeded to interview me in russian/english for the Kazak newspaper OKO. Yuri, the Russian guy gave me coffee, water and snacks before heading off towards Beyneu. Later I saw them returning and again they stopped to give me more coffee and fresh buns!! Moments like this kept me going through the long stretches.
I managed to cover around 100-110 km per day by riding early morning and in the evening, but the bad roads meant slow going as my bike was heavy with all the water I was carrying. I reached Beyneu after 4 days and went straight to the bazaar and stocked up on a load of food for the next leg, as well as eating a load of ice cream! I also managed to change some dollars into uzbek sum for a fairly reasonable rate. I ended up with a huge wad of notes that wouldn't fit in my pocket and nearly weighed more than all the
water I was carrying!
From Beyneu it was 85 km to the Uzbek border which I crossed on the 15 July. All supplies cost twice as much at the border but this was expected. I rode to the front of a long line of trucks and was soon into Uzbekistan with little hassle. It was pretty hot by now as it was around noon so I rode a little way and pitched my tent for shade, and rested in a pool of sweat. It didn't take long for a jeep to pull up next to my tent. Out jumped two police-men who asked for my documents. I emerged in my boxer shorts giving them a demented smile, making them realise I was just a stupid tourist. They soon left me to sweat out the rest of the midday heat.
From Beyneu to Qongirat is the real long stretch of around 500-600km with two small towns and really bad roads all the way. There really is nothing to see here. The land is flat with a little grass and not much else. Occasionally I saw a desert gerboa or a hawk but few other animals. I looked out for the famous desert crocodile but saw none. The camping continued to be very enjoyable. The desert stars are really a spectacle, stretching from horizon to horizon, and so bright, its something that really must be experienced to be fully appreciated. Between Qarakalpakstan and Jasliq the road was extremely bad, fully corrugated and just plain shit. On either side of the main dirt track are small clay roads that can prove easier going but every so often these deteriorate into extremely bumpy sections covered by fine powdered clay which can often catch out the unwary cycle tourist, particularly if he is daydreaming about big
fish!
Somewhere along this stretch I spied what I thought was another camel in the road, but it turned out to be Frank, a Belgian cyclist on his way from Vietnam to Belgium. We stopped for a rest and exchanged information on coming road conditions and water etc. This made for a nice break and I carried on a happy cyclist.
Another day two Russians pulled up and chatted for a while and seemed quite amazed that I was cycling alone across the desert. They kindly gave me bottles of water before they carried on. Not two minutes later an extremely overloaded bus pulled up beside me and a few wired guys jumped out and
seemed to be offering me more water. I declined but the one guy pulled out a big wad of cash making me 
realise they wanted 
some of my water and were so desperate they would pay for it. I gave them one of the bottles I had just been given and in return they tried to give me cigarettes and vodka but I had to refuse! They then all 
squeezed back into the rickety death-trap of a bus and waved goodbye before bumping off down the road. They were either all on drugs or really had had no water for a long time because all the passsengers looked distinctly on edge! Very strange.
From Jasliq the road became more or less asphalt and became easier going. I came to one point where some guys were laying a pipe throught the road. I detoured around and ended up stopping with the rest of the gang for chai. These guys had obviously spent their whole lives building roads in the desert as they all looked pretty weather hardened, with bodies covered in tattoos and scars. They offered me some bread and tomatoes but as there was more flies on the bread than actual bread I politely declined before making a swift departure.
I eventually came to Qongirat where I found the bazaar and bought some goodies. The people here were very kind. I sat with some of the ladies and drank chai and ate bread, tomatoes and melon.
Before I left they all stuffed my 
panniers full of tomatoes and cucumbers until I could hardly close the straps! Later in the day I bought a litre of petrol for 12.5 english pence...what a bargain! And after I stopped for a drink at a chaikana and ended up being given an incredibly tasty shashlk and chai by the very kind Sultan and his wife.
The desert was coming to an end which was nice as after 10 or so days I was really finished. Very quickly the desert transformed into fields of cotton and fruit trees which made for such a nice change. Villagers passed in donkey carts and small boys swam in the irrigation canals while hundreds of dragonflies flitted around the irrigation channels. Abundant trees provided me with shade from the midday sun!! bliss!
The police invited me to eat with them one day as I passed a check point. I sat around a pile of bread, samosas, chicken and soup and ate my fill. I was even given beer and ice cream for dessert! Unbelievable! After leaving the desert I reached Khiva after a couple of days and spent two nights resting and chatting to other tourists before hitting the next 450km of desert to Bukhara. The buildings of Khiva really are quite amazing but its a little kitsch, so after two days I was really ready to leave. The
Russians renovated the city years ago so now its far too clean and tidy for its own good but still well worth seeing. You only need to step out of the old city into the bazaar to see what the place would have been like back in the old days. The people in Khiva of course were great particularly the family I stayed with, who tried to help me when ever they could.
Sometimes while travelling you come across moments that really remind you why you are out seeing the world. Really special times that you don't forget. In Khiva I was in a little back street and heard some lovely music which I followed through a little door into an old workshop where a small boy was sitting with mallet and chisel tapping away in time to the music. He sat behind a giant column of wood that he was intricately carving, which would eventually be installed somewhere in the old city. It was really a special moment, I stood and watched for a while before leaving him to his work. I walked around the city and was invited by a group of builders to share their watermelon. I carried on and really enjoyed seeing everyone relaxing in the late evening light. I sat by the melon stands and watched people coming and going in all directions carrying their melons home for the evening meal. Again good music was playing and I was content. A lone apple salesman walked over to me and gave me two apples! Sometimes I can't believe the generosity of all the people I have met. They are all genuienly warm-hearted, kind people who want nothing in return, maybe just to share a bit of time and speak about different things.
I left Khiva around lunch and covered 90km and passed the Amu Darya river, central Asia's greatest river. The police at the checkpoint welcomed me and showed me a newspaper cutting of an Uzbek man who had ridden his bicycle to Germany! Shortly after the river I was back in the desert and had another good sleep in the world wide tent. The next two days were incredibly hot, much warmer than before. The desert had changed with many more shrubs and more signs of life. I saw more hawks, a couple of hares and more insects as wel
l as a couple of large sun spiders. The first day I could find no shade for the midday rest so had to pitch my tent on the hot sand. I cut lots of branches and piled them on top for added shade and then attempted to sleep, but instead ended up doing lengths up and down my tent in the great pool of sweat that had quickly formed. The sand outside was so hot that it really wasn't possible to walk barefoot. I tried but had to quickly seek shelter again. About two hours before my planned departure time a strong wind picked up and threatened to blow me and my tent away so I had to scoot into the hot sun and blowing sand. Not fun. Luckily the wind 
was in my favour so things weren't too bad.
The next day I managed to find shade after 70km, in a chaykhana and spent a nice few hours with the family. I slept and then shared lunch with them and then I slept some more. Again the wind picked up and this time great amounts of sand were blowing into everything. The sand storm became worse and I tried to sleep it out. By the time I left I was really coated in a fine sand from head to toe, everywhere..hmm nice! A bunch of truck drivers turned up and chatted to me for a long while asking all the usual questions. One even leaned over and said " Scott, where is your pistol" I told him I didn't have a pistol and they were all amazed that I was out in the desert on my own with no pistol! What about the dangerous wild animals and bad men? Who knows? I didn't see any!
The most dangerous thing I saw was " THE DANGEROUS SECTION" on the first desert section. I saw the sign and thought there would be a huge wolf waiting to eat me at the top of the hill but alas no, just a steep hill with a small bend. 
I made the 450km to Bukhara in 3 days. Along the way I met some fellow travellers on their motorbikes. Two Polish guys pulled up and we chatted. They had covered 4000km in something like 8 days! They told me the famous Japanese man was close behind! And sure enough Norbu pulled up not long after. I had heard about him in Khiva. For 6 years he has toured the world on his motorbike but now he is tired and on his way home !!!! Later two Italian couples passed me on motorbikes whom I later met in Bukhara. In Bukhara I found a good hotel with all the modcons for 10 dollars. I even have a fridge thats stocked with goodies. I will stay here for 4 days and refuel before going to Samarkand and on to Tajikistan. Its really nice to have a good rest and relax with a few fellow travellers. The locals here in Bukhara are very relaxed and friendly and there are some nice sights to see while I'm carrying out my main pastime.....eating!
Some advice:
1)while cycling in the desert keep your mouth closed
2)don't underestimate the cleverness of uzbek ducks
3)don't adhere to 'kazaki snickers diet' while cycling in the desert
4)cut slots in end of rack bolts to allow easy removal when they snap
5)don't believe anything locals tell you about distances
6)don't accept vodka while cycling
With the help of Marko from 1000 Camels Hostel in Baku we managed to secure tickets for the ferry crossing fro Baku to Aktau with relative ease. I later learned that some other cyclists waited nine days to make the crossing and had to watch one ferry leave, without even getting close to boarding. They eventually needed to ask their embassies to help them get tickets after Elmira the Ticket Witch refused to deal with them!
The night before the ferry sailed we moved down to the port and stayed with a family for two dollars a night, which made a nice change from the prices of Baku hotels. We had an enjoyable wait spent with two Georgians - Georgy (aka Mr vodka) and his friend whose name I forget. We listened to the Beatles, drank vodka, beer and chai and swatted mosquitos late into the evening.
We eventually got on the ferry after a very tedious unloading of trucks and railway cars, and grabbed two cabins and settled down for the 18 hour Caspian sea crossing. Carlo and I had stocked up with a bit of food as the crossing is renowned for taking a long time. We had a cabin towards the bow of the boat so had a nice breeze coming through the porthole, so slept well. In the morning I woke to see what I thought was Aktau but was soon discovered it was Baku, and that because of a storm we had anchored up for the night to wait out the bad weather. The crossing eventually took 56 hours but it was fairly enjoyable as there was good company and much time to spend sleeping and eating!!
Carlo and I met Raf Aliyev, the communications officer on the ferry, whose hobby is learning English. Raf treated us to coffee, tea and chocolates in his confortable cabin and told us some interesting stories about the ferry and his career in ships. Raf had seriously been learning English for 3 months and could speak it pretty much fluently which I was very impressed by, considering my lack of Russian. I partiularly liked his comment on the ships doctor who is also the cook. He said in a heavy russian accent "if you are sick on our boat and have a wish to die please see our doctor" hmm. no getting sick then!! Apart from sleeping, the journey was spent playing cards with Carlo, Neil and Harriet while eating a considerable amount of sunflower seeds. In this part of the world people sit and eat seeds all day to alleviate boredom I guess. Its not a particularly fun past time but after much practice it becomes easy and you don't end up with bits of shell stuck in your t
eeth like I do all the time.We reached Aktau on the morning of the third day and had cleared customs by around lunchtime. Carlo unfortunately had problems clearing his motorbike as the customs officers had gone to lunch etc etc. I started to ride into aktau but only got a few hundred metres when I saw three touring cyclists coming towards me. They turned out to be the guys who had been waiting for the ferry for 9 days and were now trying to catch a truck through the greater part of Kazakstan. The truck was stuck in customs and there was a lack of other trucks going in their direction so they spent another 5 days waiting in Aktau after their lovely time spent in Baku. I will hopefully meet Nils and Jo in Kashgar and cycle to Tibet with them, while Eva must go back to Europe for studying.
The cyclists and Neil and Harriet decided to go to the train station so I changed some money, got some supplies and scooted out of town and into the desert. Unfortunately I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to Carlo as he was still stuck at port. As my maps didn't cover the first 500km to Beyneu, I had luckily been able to photograph Nils and jos ryse know how map and planned to take the shortcut to Shepte, saving myself 70km. I left aktau and before I knew it was completely lost deep in the desert. The town ended quickly and then there was ve
ry little to see apart from some electricity lines, many camels and miles and miles of desert! The asphalt ran out after 40km and the road turned to gravel and sand. There were some interesting landforms at first but later it became much flatter with nothingness as far as you could see. I came to a triple fork in the road with absolutely no idea of which way to go. The map showed I should have crossed the railway maybe 4 times but I think I had crossed only twice. I chose to go right as there was no one to ask directions and I had to make a guess. After a few km's a truck came so I flagged it down and worked out from the driver that I was going completly the wrong way, so I headed back and took the first turning that led me even deeper into the desert along an even sandier road. By this time I had maybe covered 60-70km and returning was not an option. I was becoming a little worried as I didn't have a great amount of water as I had planned to load up at Shepte. Plans of how to build a solar still were begining to pop in and out of my head!I soon came to the railway which was a good sign as I knew it must go to Shetpe. I followed this for a while and after 90km stopped and spent my first night in the desert. This was really special. There was no man made noise, no lights, no aeroplanes, nothing, just stars and silence - beautiful. There was no need for a tent so I just lay on the sand and admired the stars and wondered what lay ahead in the next few days. I could not believe I had made it all the way to Kazakstan from the UK.
The next morning I woke before sunrise and got going to beat the heat of the day. I saw no one for the first few hours of the day. The road became worse as it followed a dry river bed for a while meaning I had to resort to pushing through the sand for a few km's. By this time I had covered over a hundred km's and was really starting to doubt whether I was going the right way. The distance on the map looked a lot less than what I had actually covered. I was also running low on water but by mid mornng I came to a small house and was greeted by two young kazak boys pulling a cart with an urn of water on top. I asked if I could have some and quickly the younger boy ran off and returned with a bottle of ice! I couldn't believe my luck! Happy days! They also told me that Shepte was close which quickly raised my spirits. I pushed on and arrived in town around lunchtime, where I stocked up with more water and some food. I was glad to be leaving town as quickly as I had arrived as there was even less to see than in the desert!
From shepte I was back on the main road to Beyneu, so was happier that I actually knew where I was going. I relaxed a bit and enjoyed the emptiness of the desert. There really is nothing but three or four towns and a couple of small shops for the 1100km or so to Nukus in Uzbekistan. First I passed Sayotesh after a few hundred km's, and then after 470km from Aktau I came to Beyneu which is a larger town with a decent bazaar. I carried up to 16 litres of water as I was unsure how often I would be able to stock up. I could have got away with a little less but it was nice to know that I had enough for a day and a half. Of couse it was incredibly hot during the day so I had to resort to 8 hour siestas spent in culverts under the road. These culverts really were life savers, as spending so long in the tent in the midday sun is not much fun. I would be on the road everyday before sunrise after a meal of cold pasta and snickers and make the most of the cool morning weather. Then around 9-10 I would find shade and sleep and then cycle again from 4-5 o'clock until darkness. Midday temperatures have been around 45 so cycling really is out of the question unless you're crazy!
Occasionally a truck or jeep would stop and the guys would jump out, shake my hand while enquiring where I was from. Really nice friendly people. One day a small blue car stopped and two guys got out and proceeded to interview me in russian/english for the Kazak newspaper OKO. Yuri, the Russian guy gave me coffee, water and snacks before heading off towards Beyneu. Later I saw them returning and again they stopped to give me more coffee and fresh buns!! Moments like this kept me going through the long stretches.
I managed to cover around 100-110 km per day by riding early morning and in the evening, but the bad roads meant slow going as my bike was heavy with all the water I was carrying. I reached Beyneu after 4 days and went straight to the bazaar and stocked up on a load of food for the next leg, as well as eating a load of ice cream! I also managed to change some dollars into uzbek sum for a fairly reasonable rate. I ended up with a huge wad of notes that wouldn't fit in my pocket and nearly weighed more than all the
water I was carrying!From Beyneu it was 85 km to the Uzbek border which I crossed on the 15 July. All supplies cost twice as much at the border but this was expected. I rode to the front of a long line of trucks and was soon into Uzbekistan with little hassle. It was pretty hot by now as it was around noon so I rode a little way and pitched my tent for shade, and rested in a pool of sweat. It didn't take long for a jeep to pull up next to my tent. Out jumped two police-men who asked for my documents. I emerged in my boxer shorts giving them a demented smile, making them realise I was just a stupid tourist. They soon left me to sweat out the rest of the midday heat.
From Beyneu to Qongirat is the real long stretch of around 500-600km with two small towns and really bad roads all the way. There really is nothing to see here. The land is flat with a little grass and not much else. Occasionally I saw a desert gerboa or a hawk but few other animals. I looked out for the famous desert crocodile but saw none. The camping continued to be very enjoyable. The desert stars are really a spectacle, stretching from horizon to horizon, and so bright, its something that really must be experienced to be fully appreciated. Between Qarakalpakstan and Jasliq the road was extremely bad, fully corrugated and just plain shit. On either side of the main dirt track are small clay roads that can prove easier going but every so often these deteriorate into extremely bumpy sections covered by fine powdered clay which can often catch out the unwary cycle tourist, particularly if he is daydreaming about big
fish!Somewhere along this stretch I spied what I thought was another camel in the road, but it turned out to be Frank, a Belgian cyclist on his way from Vietnam to Belgium. We stopped for a rest and exchanged information on coming road conditions and water etc. This made for a nice break and I carried on a happy cyclist.
Another day two Russians pulled up and chatted for a while and seemed quite amazed that I was cycling alone across the desert. They kindly gave me bottles of water before they carried on. Not two minutes later an extremely overloaded bus pulled up beside me and a few wired guys jumped out and
seemed to be offering me more water. I declined but the one guy pulled out a big wad of cash making me 
realise they wanted 
some of my water and were so desperate they would pay for it. I gave them one of the bottles I had just been given and in return they tried to give me cigarettes and vodka but I had to refuse! They then all 
squeezed back into the rickety death-trap of a bus and waved goodbye before bumping off down the road. They were either all on drugs or really had had no water for a long time because all the passsengers looked distinctly on edge! Very strange.From Jasliq the road became more or less asphalt and became easier going. I came to one point where some guys were laying a pipe throught the road. I detoured around and ended up stopping with the rest of the gang for chai. These guys had obviously spent their whole lives building roads in the desert as they all looked pretty weather hardened, with bodies covered in tattoos and scars. They offered me some bread and tomatoes but as there was more flies on the bread than actual bread I politely declined before making a swift departure.
I eventually came to Qongirat where I found the bazaar and bought some goodies. The people here were very kind. I sat with some of the ladies and drank chai and ate bread, tomatoes and melon.
Before I left they all stuffed my 
panniers full of tomatoes and cucumbers until I could hardly close the straps! Later in the day I bought a litre of petrol for 12.5 english pence...what a bargain! And after I stopped for a drink at a chaikana and ended up being given an incredibly tasty shashlk and chai by the very kind Sultan and his wife.
The desert was coming to an end which was nice as after 10 or so days I was really finished. Very quickly the desert transformed into fields of cotton and fruit trees which made for such a nice change. Villagers passed in donkey carts and small boys swam in the irrigation canals while hundreds of dragonflies flitted around the irrigation channels. Abundant trees provided me with shade from the midday sun!! bliss!The police invited me to eat with them one day as I passed a check point. I sat around a pile of bread, samosas, chicken and soup and ate my fill. I was even given beer and ice cream for dessert! Unbelievable! After leaving the desert I reached Khiva after a couple of days and spent two nights resting and chatting to other tourists before hitting the next 450km of desert to Bukhara. The buildings of Khiva really are quite amazing but its a little kitsch, so after two days I was really ready to leave. The
Russians renovated the city years ago so now its far too clean and tidy for its own good but still well worth seeing. You only need to step out of the old city into the bazaar to see what the place would have been like back in the old days. The people in Khiva of course were great particularly the family I stayed with, who tried to help me when ever they could.
Sometimes while travelling you come across moments that really remind you why you are out seeing the world. Really special times that you don't forget. In Khiva I was in a little back street and heard some lovely music which I followed through a little door into an old workshop where a small boy was sitting with mallet and chisel tapping away in time to the music. He sat behind a giant column of wood that he was intricately carving, which would eventually be installed somewhere in the old city. It was really a special moment, I stood and watched for a while before leaving him to his work. I walked around the city and was invited by a group of builders to share their watermelon. I carried on and really enjoyed seeing everyone relaxing in the late evening light. I sat by the melon stands and watched people coming and going in all directions carrying their melons home for the evening meal. Again good music was playing and I was content. A lone apple salesman walked over to me and gave me two apples! Sometimes I can't believe the generosity of all the people I have met. They are all genuienly warm-hearted, kind people who want nothing in return, maybe just to share a bit of time and speak about different things.
I left Khiva around lunch and covered 90km and passed the Amu Darya river, central Asia's greatest river. The police at the checkpoint welcomed me and showed me a newspaper cutting of an Uzbek man who had ridden his bicycle to Germany! Shortly after the river I was back in the desert and had another good sleep in the world wide tent. The next two days were incredibly hot, much warmer than before. The desert had changed with many more shrubs and more signs of life. I saw more hawks, a couple of hares and more insects as wel
l as a couple of large sun spiders. The first day I could find no shade for the midday rest so had to pitch my tent on the hot sand. I cut lots of branches and piled them on top for added shade and then attempted to sleep, but instead ended up doing lengths up and down my tent in the great pool of sweat that had quickly formed. The sand outside was so hot that it really wasn't possible to walk barefoot. I tried but had to quickly seek shelter again. About two hours before my planned departure time a strong wind picked up and threatened to blow me and my tent away so I had to scoot into the hot sun and blowing sand. Not fun. Luckily the wind 
was in my favour so things weren't too bad.The next day I managed to find shade after 70km, in a chaykhana and spent a nice few hours with the family. I slept and then shared lunch with them and then I slept some more. Again the wind picked up and this time great amounts of sand were blowing into everything. The sand storm became worse and I tried to sleep it out. By the time I left I was really coated in a fine sand from head to toe, everywhere..hmm nice! A bunch of truck drivers turned up and chatted to me for a long while asking all the usual questions. One even leaned over and said " Scott, where is your pistol" I told him I didn't have a pistol and they were all amazed that I was out in the desert on my own with no pistol! What about the dangerous wild animals and bad men? Who knows? I didn't see any!
The most dangerous thing I saw was " THE DANGEROUS SECTION" on the first desert section. I saw the sign and thought there would be a huge wolf waiting to eat me at the top of the hill but alas no, just a steep hill with a small bend. 
I made the 450km to Bukhara in 3 days. Along the way I met some fellow travellers on their motorbikes. Two Polish guys pulled up and we chatted. They had covered 4000km in something like 8 days! They told me the famous Japanese man was close behind! And sure enough Norbu pulled up not long after. I had heard about him in Khiva. For 6 years he has toured the world on his motorbike but now he is tired and on his way home !!!! Later two Italian couples passed me on motorbikes whom I later met in Bukhara. In Bukhara I found a good hotel with all the modcons for 10 dollars. I even have a fridge thats stocked with goodies. I will stay here for 4 days and refuel before going to Samarkand and on to Tajikistan. Its really nice to have a good rest and relax with a few fellow travellers. The locals here in Bukhara are very relaxed and friendly and there are some nice sights to see while I'm carrying out my main pastime.....eating!
Some advice:
1)while cycling in the desert keep your mouth closed
2)don't underestimate the cleverness of uzbek ducks
3)don't adhere to 'kazaki snickers diet' while cycling in the desert
4)cut slots in end of rack bolts to allow easy removal when they snap
5)don't believe anything locals tell you about distances
6)don't accept vodka while cycling
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