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