Aktal - Osh

Day 47 - 52

I wake after a restless sleep to a steady drizzle. I roll over and snooze for a while. At around 8 o'clock I hear a cough outside my tent. It's my friend victor. He wants to know if I want some coffee. I tell him that I will pack my stuff and head over in an hour. 

I don my rain gear, pack my tent and head to Victor's. It turns out he is staying in a large russian can. The back is decked out with two beds, a gas burner, wood stove and dining area. His work mate Alec is there and speaks a little English. Alec cooks me some porridge made with sweetened condensed milk and slices a huge chunk of butter into it. Perfect. It makes a great change from the water slop I have been making each morning. My cycling porridge may be great fuel for the road but it certainly isn't delicious. 

After some chit chat and an invitation to stay with the boys in their van I head out into the rain. 

I soon make it to Aktal, stock up on some bread and venture off. It turns out that there is bitchumen most of the way to Baelov. Except when there is mud. 

By the afternoon the rain has cleared up but most of my stuff is soaking wet (tent, bed roll, the washing I left out the night before). I head into the village hoping for an invite into someone's yard where I can set up my tent. Sure enough a truck stops and the driver hops out. I point to the back of my bike, say pulartka (tent) and make a sleeping motion). He gets the idea. After a quick phone call to his wife I am following him back to his house. 

It couldn't be more perfect. There is an undercover area where I can dry my tent, they have electricity for me to charge my dead phone (I use it for GPS and photos) and I can hang my washing on the line. I am given a bucket of water to wash my bike. 

Dinner is home cooked bread with home made jam. I am also invited to sleep inside. Bliss. I have the best sleep since arriving in the country. 

I head off in the morning after being given more bread and a whole plastic bag of crab apples (what am I meant to do with these?! And how am I meant to carry them?) I manage to stuff them into one of my panniers. 

The road starts off undulating but quickly turns into the all too familiar false flat. Part of the road has been recently graded and I very nearly wipe out on a downhill section, luckily I manage to keeps my wheels down and take it a little easier after that. 

At one point I come to a traffic jam - three cars - and stop to see what is happening. There is a wedding party. The men are hitting the vodka (it is about 10am after all) and wearing their best Adidas jackets (yes, really). I do my best to decline the vodka and get away with only taking one shot. The bride invites me to sit in the car with her. I have no idea why. I am obviously covered in dust and mud and her dress is pristine white.

The wind picks up in the afternoon and makes forward progress very hard. I look for a campsite for 2 hours before settling on an abandoned cattle yard that has a mud fence that should block a little of the wind. 

Today was tough. I continue uphill of the crappy corrugated road. I was going fast if I cracked double digits. The scenery was more of the same, brown his either side of me. Once again, head wind in the arvo. My campsite tonight is 630 vertical meters higher than the on east night. No wonder my riding was so slow. Thankfully the road is quiet. Only six cars passed me all day. The area I am in feels very remote despite passing a couple of small villages. 

I decide to head to another abandoned farm house to escape the wind. The driveway leading up to it is overgrown, there are no tyre tracks in the mud, no animal loitering around the house. About halfway up the hill to my surprise the front door opens. I don't feel like having another awkward sign language conversation and head back to the road. 

I find a track that leads to the river and find the perfect spot. Absolutely secluded, no one can see me and only about 20m from the creek. I turn the luxury up and heat water to wash wit instead of a freezing cold river wash. 

I have a terrible sleep and consider having a rest day in my perfect campsite.  Unfortunately I still feel anxious about getting to Osh in time to make sure I have my GBAO permit for the pamir and then making it to the Tajikistan border when my visa starts. I head off, uphill. Soon enough I have cleared the pass and spend the afternoon losing 1700 vertical meters. There was even a little pavement. Of course I had a head wind as well. 

As I am looking for a place to camp I am offered a lift. I had always considered hitching this part of the journey so I could avoid a large pass and get to Osh faster. I take the lift. It drops me off at the bottom of the pass. I set up my tent next to a yurt. I am given more bread and tea and also endure some more marriage proposals. 

I start up the climb hoping that a truck comes past soon offering me a lift. It takes 2 hours before the first car goes past. Small sedan. No good. Soon after a station wagon makes it's way up the hill. I flag it down and after some creative packing manage to get my gear and bike in the back. They say they will take me all the way to Jalal-Abad. Awesome. 

We stop on the way up the hill for some koumiss (I decline) and then soon we are over the top. I get dropped off at the bazaar in the early afternoon. I am keen to get to Osh by tomorrow so quickly head out of town towards Ozgen. I have to take the long way round, skirting the Uzbek border. 

There are farms on both sides of the road and finding somewhere to camp is proving difficult. As I approach Uzgen I decided to ask the watermelon sellers if they know where I can sleep. I am led to a house and given my very own room. The door even has a hook on it so no one can get in. 

In the morning I am offered a watermelon. I have no way of carrying it and manage to leave it behind. I race towards Osh, the thought of a shower, meat and beer keeping the pedals spinning. I smash out 60km by midday and manage to find the guesthouse that had been recommended to me easily. 

After a shower I head out and eat four shasliks, attempting to catch up on my meat defeciet. That night I head out with some English mountaineers for some noodles and beer. 

15/8 - 58km, ODO 1105km

16/8 - 60km, ODO 1165km

17/8 - 40km, ODO 1205km

18/8 - 71km, ODO 1277km

19/8 - 56km, ODO 1333km

20/8 - 60km, ODO 1394km

Up to Song-Kul

Day 42 - 45

Today was another long day in the blasting sun, slowly grinding my way way uphill, following a river that wound it's way in between brown, rocky hills. 

I had an early start and was blessed with a tail wind, unfortunately at my slow uphill pace this meant there was no breeze all day. I find a chai khana and stop to grab some bread and drink some tea. Before leaving I dunk my head under a tap and soak my buff and shirt. It provides relief for only a little while. 

I find a tiny patch if shade on the side of the road and stop for two hours, eating my bread, triangle cheese and tomato. Pretty great lunch actually. 

In the afternoon I have my fist puncture of the trip. A large thorn has gone through my tyre. The tube is easily replaced (much to my releuf, I haven't had a puncture for about 2 years and change tyres very infrequently)

I find a spot to put my tent near a river that runs into Chu-Kul. Someone wanders over and using a bunch of sign language goes through the usual questions, where are you from? how old are you? You are by yourself? (Insert disapproving look) Where are you going? He gives me a small bag of unshelled sunflower seeds. 

I have a very brief and cold wash in the river before cooking dinner. Camp that night was windy and sleep did not come easily, a trend that seems to have followed me through Kyrgyzstan. 

The following day I am up before sunrise, wanting to get an early start before the heat hits me. The day is solar to yesterday, following the same river, grinding slowly up a hill all day, a tiny patch of shade for a long lunch break.

Later in the afternoon I turn off the pavement and hit gravel. I pass the small village of Keng-Suu and continue along a terrible road that yes, winds up a valley. The uphill continues. 

I had been told that there is great camping along this valley and that turns out to the the case. I find a great spot next to the creek, nice grass, a little way from the road and a tree to hang all my washing on. 

Once camp is packed up I continue up the road. Yes that's right, the third day in a row of riding uphill. The road is terrible. Large corrugations, loose rocks, sandy on the edge of the road. It is the middle if the day before I even make it to the switch backs that lead up to the first pass of my journey. 

About halfway up the switchbacks I get offered a lift from some men in a truck. I initially turn them down but 10 minutes later I catch up to them. They are waiting for their radiator to stop boiling. I accept thee offer of a lift. I feel a little guilty but tell myself that it is a multi modal adventure. I will readily admit I am no purist. 

After filling the radiator with fresh creek water we continue upwards, stopping every few minutes for the engine to cool.  The guys that have picked me up are on their way back from Kochkor after selling a load of sheep. 

I get dropped off at the top of the pass, put on my rain coat (as a windbreaker) and enjoy the downhill. Soon I get waved down by some children on the side of the road, koumiss? They ask. I reply with a firm nyet! Koumiss is fermented mares milk, I have tried the mongolian equivalent (called araig there) and I am confident that the Kyrgyz version will be just as nasty. 

Once I decline the koumiss I am offered chai. I accept. I make my way over to their yurt and canvas tent. Whilst drinking my chai I am asked if I would like to put my pulartka (tent in Russian) next to their yurt. I take them up on the offer. 

A friend appears and I have my first (if many) marriage proposal. Unfortunately he also finds 'I love you' in my russian phrase book. He can not leave fast enough, after taking the 'if I talk louder she will understand Kyrgyz' approach. My ear hurts. 

We eat mutton (I think), potato and onion dumplings that night. 

In the morning I continue downhill (yay!) to the lake. I make my way around the north side of the lake and soon find myself struggling to make it over some short, steep hills. By 3.30 I am toast and I ask to camp next to a herder family. I pitch my tent just in time for a huge thunderstorm. 

Once the rain has cleared I whip up a nutritious and delicious cabbage and tuna salad.  

I wake at midnight to discover that my thermarest is flat. I had been debating all week whether my extra blue foamy is really necessary. Turns out it is. The big bulky hunk of foam is now indespensable. 

I head off in the morning feeling anxious and lonely. I have been quite stressed since leaving Bishkek about visa time limits (tajik visa), permits and the whole cycling and camping by myself. To top it off these bloody hills were bloody steep. I try my luck following some horse trails that seem to follow the contours a little more. 

After an hour and a half of pushing my bike over very rough ground (but not much uphill) I stumble upon some Kyrgyz people from bishkek. The two men seemed to be on a weekend away with their girlfriends. When I asked if they had kids they replied that they are at home with their wives! Nonetheless they give me some chai and watermelon and their phone numbers and tell me to call them if I get into trouble. I soon head off and 29 minutes later discover that I have lost my water bladder that connects to my free and carries all my clean drinking water. Damn. 

I backtrack for an hour with no luck and decide to continue. I will figure something out. Today is not going well. I leave the lake shore and continue uphill. Getting blasted by freezing cold headwind and rain. The rai clears up quickly and a teenage girl helps me ouch my bike to the top of the pass. She is walking up the hill to get phone reception. 

Once at the top I look down to see many switchbacks and a covered with pine trees. Amazing. 

I finally reach the bottom if the switchbacks after about 40 minutes. The downhill run continues along a river, where I find a great campsite for the night. Whilst eating dinner (ramen soup with cabbage and onion), I am approached by Victor, who tells me it isn't safe to camp by myself and come and camp next to him. I am stuffed and the thought of packing everything andoving is too much. I stay where I am. 

12/8 rode 23km, ODO 952km

13/8 rode 35km, ODO 987km

14/8 rode 60km, ODO 1047km

Leaving Bishkek

9 aug: Bishkek to somewhere near Jany-Alysh

ODO: 782, km today: 97

I wake up in the morning to a soft pitter patter of rain on the tent. Oh good I think, it's raining and I don't have to leave. I had been feeling quite anxious about heading off into the unknown alone and the AT House in Bishkek felt like an oasis, a lovely home away from home full of wonderfull people, communal dinners and speedy wifi. What more could I want? Five minutes later the rain stopped and I gave myself a little pep talk and decided I would aim to be off by 9am. 

After spreading all my gear out and then only just managing to pack it onto my bike (just how many groceries do I think I will need?), two cups of tea and a few email swaps later I couldn't delay it anymore. 

Filled with anxiety I said a very hasty goodbye to the wonderful people I had met. I didn't want to prolong the goodbyes in case I burst into tears (yes, I was quite nervous/ anxious).  With the paparazzi snapping away I rode off down the street into the unknown. Thankfully in the right direction. 

After battling traffic and the stop start of traffic lights I made my way east along some ok paved road. I stopped for a snack of dried fruit (I do have about 1.5kg of the stuff to get through - I got a bit excited at the market) and continued on. And on. And on along a straight, flat road with a fairly significant amount of traffic and boring scenery. The highlight of which was the occasional sunflower field backed by some hills that I think are in Kazahkstan. 

A lunch of fresh bread and jam in a bag (every cyclists favourite) kept me going for another little while. By 3pm I found myself stopping more and more frequently. Unfortunately I was still in a pretty built up area and couldn't see any potential camping areas. 5pm rolled around and I seriously started looking. I was pooped, legs tired, back sore and I am still breaking into brooks saddle. 

I turn down a side street and 5km later turn down a little track that is supposed to lead me down a river (according to my GPS). The river is in fact a dry creek bed but I find a spot to camp that will do. Just as well because I didn't want to go any further. I have enough water for dinner and brekky so no worries there. It's not the most scenic campsite and there is a little rubbish strewn around so hopefully I don't get visited by anyone tonight. 

Pasta is on the boil, I have some tunes playing on the phone (Neko Case if your curious) and as soon as dinner is eaten and I am cleaned up it's off to bed for this weary body. 

Kazahkstan to the north

Other hills and a few piles of dirt (literally) to the south. 

And into the stans

Day 35 - 40: 3 August - 8 august

UB - Moscow - Bishkek

I spent my last morning in UB retrieving my photos, thankfully I got them all back (thanks Damo for the long distance help). Our last lunch was at German doner with Damian, another cycle tourist. I am not sure how German my kebab was but it sure was delicious. The afternoon was spent traipsing around the city, looking for a lost couple shops and sights that Eliza wanted to check out. The three of us went out for one final mongolian meal for Eliza and I. It was ok. After a few too many beers (2L beer bottles are dangerous) we were off too bed with the alarm clock set very early. 

After an uneventful flight - I got three seats I my self I was in Moscow, trying to figure out how to spend the next 12 hours in the airport. After much wifi and sleeping on the floor I hopped onto the next plane and got upgraded to business class. Aeroflot business class is only slightly better than most other economy class flights. Still exciting though. 

Customs in Kyrgyzstan was simple. Unfortunately Aeroflot did not think it was important to put my bike on the plane. I grabbed my other panniers and made my way into town by taxi. 

I had arranged to stay at a cycling guesthouse in bishkek, I hadn't planned on arriving at 6am when everyone was still asleep. Nathan, the owner kindly let me in ad despite having no rooms available let me take over a small undercover area with my sleeping bag and mat. 

I soon met about 12 other long distance cyclists, most of whom have come from the way I am heading. I was a little intimidated by their years of experience touring and when they asked where I have cycle all I could muster up was oh a few weeks in mongolia and Tassie. 

In the afternoon I applied for and got my tajik visa. Unfortunately I was a bit quick to make my decision in dates and I didn't leave enough time to get an Uzbek visa. 

After stressing about it for a night I have now decided I am going to fly from Tajikistan to Iran. Now I just need to grab my Iranian visa in dushanbe which shouldn't be an issue. My bicycle also turned up the day after I arrived which was a great relief. 

Anyway, I am sure all my visa issues and planning it's actually that interesting to read about. Bishkek feels like a European city compared to UB. The grocery stores have a wide range of ingredients and there is about double the variety of fruit and veg, not to mention all the spices that are sold in the shops. 

Today Damien (yes another Aussie cycle tourist called Damien) and I ventured out to the market and then I didn't a grocery shop and bought far too much food for my next stint. I intend to leave the guest house tomorrow morning and head to Osh, this will probably take me about 2 weeks. I have spent the last three days trying to absorb bike maintenance knowledge and getting tips on the next couple of thousand kilometres. 

The backyard of the guesthouse

Leafy streets of bishkek 

Bread at the market

Market

I may have bought far too much of the dried fruit from this shop. 

Day 29 - 28 July Erdenet - Overnight train to UB

ODO 589km, rode 10km

I woke up with a head cold in the morning, sore throat, runny nose and a headache.  Luckily we were taking it easy today.  After buying our train tickets we tried and failed to find the museum.  Eliza and I wandered around the streets of Erdernet, visiting the friendship monument and admiring the plastic trees that grow on the footpath.  Whilst whiling away time in a coffee shop we saw another cycle tourist walk past.  We hailed him down and got him to come inside.  We met Damian, who had been hit by a car that morning.  He seemed pretty shaken up but physically ok.  We quickly compared notes before he went to check into his hotel.  

Soon after we grabbed our bikes and made our way to the train station - 10km out of town. We stopped on the way at a carpet shop/factory.  Eliza bought some nice cashmere.  The LP says you can get tours of the factory here.  After waiting around for an interpreter that wasted to know why (tourism, general interest) and waiting some more for someone to take us we got to go inside the factory.  It was actually quite interesting and very large.  The staff were wearing their safety sandals and had no ear protection either.  We finished the rest of the ride to the train with no mishaps and waited at the station for a couple hours.  

The train was quite empty and Eliza and I were very pleased to find that we had the cabin to ourselves.  After a dinner or ramen I decided that was enough for the day and tried to go to sleep.  This did not come easily as the train stopped and started a lot, with lots of banging (adding carriages?) and loud noises.

Fake plastic trees... 

Bulldozer

Erdernet's Slag Heap 

Carpet Factory