Across the sole and then over to the top of the boot

Day 235 - 241

After a coffee and focaccia, I manage to leave town at about 11. It's a lovely ride down to the coast, blue skies, windy downhill run through green fields, quiet roads and then a tail wind along the flat. It doesn't get much better than this. 

Until I end up on a busy highway with no alternative.  I turn off soon enough into a beachside town.  In the evening I eat dinner on the beach before setting up my tent in the pine forest. Eating dinner is a little tricky - my spoon has joined my missing sock and lost towel. I manage not to cut my face off and eat spaghettie with a knife. 

After finding a new spoon in town I head west, with a tail wind! The road is busy but eventually I find a secondary road. I turn away from the coast to cross over to the top of the boot. 

I have to hide in a cafe for a couple of hours to hide from a creeper that was stalking me for about 10km in the countryside. Seriously, I am so over this harrasment. He must have gotten bored of waiting for me and when I reemerge from my hiding spot I can't see him. 

I find a nice spot amongst some olive trees to camp. My tent is covered in frost in the morning. 

I continue up hill, crossing over a pass at 700m. The climbing is nice and steady, not too steep.  I still stop often to 'admire the view' (not that my legs need resting *cough*).  There are rolling hills and snow capped mountains in the background. It is chilly up this high, the raincoat and winter gloves come on for the descent. 

Despite the tunnels this was one of the best descents I have had for ages. The road zigzags down the side of the mountain, through a tunnel, across a very high bridge contecting the ridges, switchback and repeat. 

Once back at sea level I speed along the flat road with the help of the tail wind. As I am looking for somewhere to camp I cycle past an older man with his pants down that seemed to be enjoying showing everyone what's on offer. I cycle into the next village, find a shop keeper that speaks English, tell him about the flasher and ask if he wants to call the police. 'No, he is probably just bored'. Right. I keep cycling. 

I find a caravan park that is closed for winter and sleep in an unlocked caravan. Nice and warm. 

The following day I continue south. The cycling is fairly unintersting unfortunately. There is a train line blocking my view of the ocean most of the time. I am in my own little world, listening to a podcast, spinning the pedals and in the distance I spot another cycle tourist. The first one I have met since Turkey! Dazzla is from Cornwall, heading to Istanbul and then back to England. He is also sick of all the rain and cold weather.  

As the afternoon wears on the sunshine and blue skies are replaced by very ominous looking clouds. I finally make it to Tropea and call my warm showers host, Salvatore. Only about five km and a steep hill to go. I am starving. As I start cycling up the hill I spot a sign with a picture of chocolate. I get very excited at the prospect of a quick chocolate stop. As I get closer it turns out that it is a picture of bricks. I am very disappointed. 

Just as I arrive at Salvatore's house it starts pouring. I am put in front of the fire place, given some tea and a plate of bread, cheese and ham. A perfect welcome. 

Dinner is soup and pizza. Very tasty. My home for the next few days is a self contained bungalow in the back of the garden. Salvatore and his wife usually rent it out during the summer. 

On Sunday Salvatore takes me for a drive to some scenic sights in the area. We visit and old ruin, buy some locally made cheese and salami from the back of a van and admire some great views. It is drizzly and windy all day. I am glad I am not on the bike or sleeping in my tent. 

Despite the best of intentions of leaving today, I don't. The weather is horrible. Very windy and gusty and raining off and on. I do a little work in the garden during the not so rainy periods but most of the day is spent drinking tea and reading my book. 

The next day it is the same. Salvatore is very kind and tells me it is ok for me to stay until the weather clears. 

18/2 Matera - Nova Siri Scalo: rode 75km

19/2 Nova Siri Scalo - Before Tarsia Nord: rode 78km

20/2 Before Tarsia Nord - Before Cerocea: rode 93km

21/2 Before Cerocea - Caria: rode 87km

ODO: 7085km

Osh - Sary-Tash

Day 56-59

I wake in the morning feeling a little nervous about the next leg of my journey. More pressing is the need to go to the toilet multiple times (it wouldn't be a Central Asian cycle tour blog without this discussion). Despite this my stomach feels ok so I decide to press on. 

A mere 10km up (yes, up, I have a lot of uphill ahead of me) the road the stomach cramps begin. I take shelter in a bus stop, dig out my antibiotics and decide to hang out there for a while. 45min later a group of french cyclists appear from the other direction. After the usual discussion, what's ahead/behind, good places to stay, water sources etc they are off. I decide it's time for me to move as well. I purchase a litre of Apple juice from the shop and push on. Only to stop every now as then to go to the toilet. 

The area I am in is quite built up with houses lining the road. I take the approach of waving my toilet paper at someone in the yard and then using their toilet.  I have to stop at least 8 times throughout the day. The fact that the toilet paper is easily confused with sandpaper makes this an especially arduous process. At some point I have an hour long nap on the side of the road in the shade. 

Fed up with trying to find a secluded campsite I call it a day in a village called Taldyk. I ask someone if I can pitch my tent in their yard. I mangage to eat some bread and cheese for dinner and have a very early night. To my surprise when I look at the GPS on my phone I have managed to gain 1000m in elevation today. 

I get away to an early start, my tummy feeling quite a bit better. I make it over a 2389m pass fairly easily. I know there is another pass between here and Sary-Tash. Although I usually enjoy downhills it hard to revel in them when you know that any elevation lost is going to be gained again soon.

I drop down into Gulcha, eat an icecream (vanilla icecream with poppy seeds, covered with chocolate and sesame seeds. Delicious) and then continue the slow climb along the Gulcha river, made all the more slow by a blasting headwind.

 

Whilst snacking on some dried fruit, comtemplating when to stop to camp I hear whistling. Another cycle tourist has caught up to me, going in the same direction. It's Barbara, an Austrian that I met in Bishkek. Her Tajik visa starts 2 days after mine. We cycle together, trying to chat in the crazy wind and find a great campsite under some apricot trees by the river. 

Let me tell you about Barbara. Compared to me she is an old hand at this cycle touring thing. She has been cycling and sail boat hitch hiking around the world for three years.  She has even had a short stay at turnstyle in Brisbane. It was lovely spending a couple of days camping with her, sharing food, playing cards and discussing the journey ahead of us. 

That might we find a great campsite under some apricot trees by the river. We pick the last of the apricots to eat for desert. 

We set off in the morning under a cloudy sky and yet another headwind. We slowly climb along the valley, aiming to camp just before the switchbacks of the next pass.

At lunchtime we stop at a magazine (small shop) to try and purchase some bread. We get told 'nyet khleb' and head outside to eat our stale bread. Before we could start eating the shop owner invites us to her house. We head into the yard and sit down. A table is laid out with apricot jam (home made), bread, chai and freshly picked apricots from her orchard. We eat like hungry cyclists. As we leave she supplies us with more bread and a whole glass jar of apricot jam. We are confused. We couldn't purchase bread but instead are given a whole meal plus take away. We do not complain. 

We spend quite a while trying to find a campsite. We went past the spot where the road veers away from the river and have to camp dry. We have just enough water to last until the morning and we are in sight of a village where we can get more water in the morning. There is only enough space for one tent under our tree so we both pile into mine.

In the morning I discover that my stove has decided it doesn't want to play. I am a little stressed about this. The thought of cycling the pamir without a stove scares me. I do not want to have to survive on dried ramen and bread. I like my hot tea in the morning. I decide to get fresh petrol in sary-tash and hope that will fix the issue. 

I leave Barbara behind in the village, she is going to have a rest day in our little hidden spot under the tree, and continue up. Before long I hit the switchbacks. I reach the top of the pass by 2pm. Not too bad for 800m of climbing but I am definitely not setting records. From the top of the pass I get my first view of snow capped mountains to the south. 

A swooping downhill, up a little more up and then back down and I arrive in Sary-Tash by 3pm. I find fresh petrol and my stove still doesn't work. I start to pull it apart and grease the pump. It still doesn't work. Some German Tajik rally drivers arrive at the guesthouse I am staying at. Luckily one of the is a mechanic and helps me replace all the o-rings, clean out every nook and cranny and grease all the bits that are meant to be greased. To my relief my stove starts working again. 

Sary-Tash has an amazing view of a wall of snow capped mountains, right where I am headed. I enjoy my final Kyrgyz beer with Andre, the German that fixed my stove. 

24/8 Osh - Taldyk: rode 50km, ODO 1412km

25/8 Taldyk - 20 past Gulcha: rode 59km, ODO 1521km

26/8 past Gulcha - Akbosaga: rode 52km, ODO 1573km

27/8 Akbosaga - Sary-Tash: rode 31km, ODO 1605km