Into Tajikistan

Day 60 - 61

I the morning I head to the shop to stock up on a few veges (the usual - carrots, onions and capsicum). Breakfast at the guesthouse is bread and cream. I eat as much as possible, the rally drivers - both tajik and mongol - have barely a nibble. 

I head towards the Kyrgyz border, looking at the mountains and feeling a little anxious about the next few weeks. I have all sorts of doubts running through my head. Will I get altitude sickness, do I have enough warm clothes, will my tent poles snap in the wind, will I find any vegetables anywhere etc. 

I exit Kyrgyzstan with minimal fuss and cruise through no mans land. And by cruise I mean huff and puff my way uphill. It is about another 20km to the Tajik border and my visa doesn't start until tomorrow. I find a spot to camp in the ruins of a house. It provides some good wind protection. My campsite is at an altitude of 3740m, my highest campsite yet. 

After a terrible sleep I get up to find frost on the tent and the ground. I head up hill and enjoy a little more Kyrgyz hospitality. I am invited in for chai and bread at a farmhouse just below the pass. It is only another 300 vertical metres or so.  

After a little riding and a lot of pushing I make it over Kyzil- Art pass, my highest one yet at 4336m. 

I make it into Tajikistan by lunchtime, another surprisingly easy border crossing. From there is is mostly downhill to Karakol. I also reap the benefits of a strong tailwind. 

Soon enough I cycle past a group of Tajik soldiers on patrol. They dal me down and I wonder if this is the start of the passport checks. All they want is some water and photos. 

The landscape is eerie and very stark. It's hard to describe so I will just show you some photos. 

The clear blue skies so make way for rain, hail and a bitterly cold wind. I put my head down and just concentrate on getting to Karakol, where I know there is a homestay and I can be warm. I know that the lake must be beautiful but the weather is too horrendous to take too much time to look at it. 

By the time I get to the village my legs and face are freezing, my raincoat and rain gloves were doing their job well. 

Six other cyclists soon arrive from the other direction, in much the same state I was in an hour ago. I have a wonderful heavy sleep. 

28/8 Sary-Tash - no mans land: rode 35km, ODO 1641km

29/8 no mans land - Karakol: rode 62km, ODO 1703km

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

RnR in Osh (rest and relaxation, not rock n roll)

Day 53-55

I spent the next three days eating as much food as I could, visiting the bazaar, enjoying cold beer and sorting out my GBAO permit, necessary to go through the pamir highway and whakan valley. 

I had organised for a guesthouse in Bishkek to arrange my permit for me to pick up in Osh. I should have been able to go straight to the Osh GH and pick it up. Central Asia is rarely this straightforward. I hung around for a while, the person at the GH phoning around, checking his email and rummaging through a pile of other permits. Mine is not there. It was only meant to take 7 days to organise. I tell them I will come back tomorrow. 

The afternoon is spent napping, eating, updating the blog and drinking cold beer. 

The following day (22/8) I head to the bazaar with a backpacker. I find the cycling area easily and purchase a cheap pump. There are no expensive ones. My other pump has packed it in and decided it does not want to inflate any tubes with a wide valve. 

The Osh bazaar is reportedly one of the biggest in Central Asia, is sprawls it's way up the river. I meander along, through the mechanical section and find the other section I was looking for, the dried fruit and nuts. I stock up on dried apricots, dates, sultanas and almonds, hoping that it's enough for the pamir but not really knowing.  

Back to Osh GH again and still no permit. I tell them to email me so I don't have to wait around. 

After a nap and a little bicycle maintenance, I try and fix my thermarest. I submerge the while thing in the fountain and can not find the source of the leak. I decide to send the thing to Charlie in Berlin and then get it replaced in Europe. A quick ride to the shipping company and I return with the thermarest because $US80 to ship something that weighs less than 500g is a bit steep. More cold beer is enjoyed in the evening as well as getting a haircut from an Austrian cycle tourist. Thanks Claudia!

Today is my final sorting day for the pamir. I wander back to the bazaar for a final look and then hit up the grocery stores, searching for jam and condensed milk in a bag. Success. 

I have dinner at my favourite shaslik place, the man at the grill knows me by now. I gorge myself on what feels like 'the last dinner'. 

22/8 Osh, 8km ridden, ODO 1402km

23/8 Osh, 9km ridden, ODO 1412km

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