Tashkent to Almaty

The suburbs of Tashkent run all the way to the border and then after an hour of shoving through customs I was back in Kazakhstan. The officials on the Uzbek side had me for not having a declaration form from my entry into the country but while they all argued about the best way to screw over a velo tourist I dissappeared into the crowds and was out of the country before they could do anything. A very different Kazakhstan to the far west, for a start there are roads here. Green meadows, perfect blue skies and excellent views of the Tien Shen mountains (which stay safely off to the right) all the way. Nice to cycle the first real climbs since Georgia and the climate has rapidally eased into winter. You can actually feel the sun getting weaker as you go north.

The road to Almaty cuts through Kyrgyzstan for a few hundred metres but common sense prevails and there is no border control, the army however are abit jumpy around these border areas. They waved at me from a lookout tower, I waved back and carried on. Then a Lada came screaming past and stopped infront of me..oh look they've come to say hello right..wrong. Three soldiers got out, surrounded me, cocked their rifles and held me at gun point. Not alot you can do in an situation like that. I checked to make sure they were Kazakh not Kyrgz soldiers, held my hands above my head and repeated the words "Tourist" and "Anglia".

After all the routine checks the captain apologised for the over reaction of his halfwit soldiers and muttered something about two diplomats, Geoff Brown and Peter somebody, Dushanbe and narca. If you have any idea what he was going on about and why it resulted in having three rifles pointed at me then please let me know. Gripping stuff eh.

Kazakhstan...what more is there to say. Amazing people, amazing generosiry. I could watch Kazakh horsemen, rounding up their flocks against a backdrop of snowy mountains, all day. What more could a man ask for?

Short days and late starts waiting for the day to warm up meant that the 900km took longer than it would normally. Upto 16 hours in the tent at a time, a figure that will probably increase. Looking like crap but feeling a million dollars I arrive in Almaty where for the first time since Tiblisi, I do my laundry.









Perfect blue skies.













More perfect blue skies.



Hmm..more pasta?

A Stolen Bike and a Central Asian Heatwave

My bike was stolen on the road out of Samarkand. Woke up in the morning, crawled out of the tent and it was gone. Exactly 90 days of being wed to the saddle and it was all over.
I made it to the police station but wasn't looking very good. All they wanted to do was slowly flick through my passport, a right monkey operation. Then the captain appeared, got angry with me and everyone else and then we were back at my campsite. More police than I could count, thirty or forty, being led by the grumpy captain screaming orders. They found some tyre marks and dissappeared into the scrub tracking them.

After a horrible 14 hours scratching around the police station and considering continuing my bike ride on a one speed gentlemans racer, my bike was found.
It wasn't quite as dramatic as the great mongolian horse robbery, it turned out to be two boys riding a donkey and cart that came past my campsite after i'd gone to bed. The police were very proud of their crime solving skills. They filmed me cycling around and paying tribute to the efficiency of the Uzbekistan police force, they wanted to use the video for the national police day celebration in November.

Got back on the road and discovered that the old silk road here is now a four lane motorway, don't know what else I was expecting. I'm in Tashkent now, a not unpleasant place, kissing ass in a couple of embassies (yes sir, of course sir, three bags full sir) trying to secure some more visas. Lots of pretty girls in Tashkent...note to self: Must buy some decent clothes. From here i'll head back into Kazakhstan, to Almaty and then onto China. I'm detouring around Kyrgyzstan and Kashgar to try and stay ahead of the winter.

It's been getting hotter and hotter as i've travelled through Uzbekistan. I finish everyday cycling covered in a fine layer of salt from sweating. I was expecting Uzbekistan to be in the grip of winter right now but it's roasting. I'm not complaining but it's abit unsettling, feel like i'm being setup for a sucker punch by mother nature.

Karakalpakstan and Uzbekistan

Into Karakalpakstan. Karakalpakstan is to Uzbekistan as Scotland is to Britain and people here will tell you they’re Karakalpak first, Uzbek second. I instantly like it here. Again the language is similar to Turkish so learning some Turkish pays off again. It is soooo chilled out here. As I cycle past I get a polite nod and wave from the locals, a refreshing change to the screams and shouts that you get in say, Azerbaijan, where they treat you like a freak show on wheels. It's alot cleaner than some other places i've been through and they ride bikes out here, big old one speed clunkers. I've had loads of races with the locals and lost most of them, most embrassingly to a little kid who flew past me casually throwing nuts into his mouth, he was so small he couldn't reach the pedals from the saddle and was sitting on the rack over the rear wheel.

It’s also incredibly unwesternised here. Visit Nukus, the capital of Karakalpakstan. All commerce is done out of three massive markets. The “shops” that exist don’t even have signs outside. You won’t find one western brand anywhere, no Cola, no Pepsi.

It's a long, flat and fairly decent road to central Uzbekistan from here. Cycling through the fertile plains reminds me oddly of Isaan, Thailand but with cotton instead of rice. There is one large swathe of desert to cross from Khiva to Bukara, where I am now. One afternoon a car pulled up in front of me, all the men got out, gave me a small amount of money each and sent me on my way. Days spent in the desert must have left me looking rough!

I'm about to set off to Tashkent via Samarkand on a tourist trail of sorts, the Silk road. You don't need me to tell you about the wonders of the Silk road. It was bitterly cold up in Kazakhstan but it’s warmed up nicely as I’ve gone south. It’s 1st Nov today and about 26 degrees outside. So much for those severe Central Asian winters then.













The cheapest (500 som = 20 pence including unlimited tea) and most chilled out hotel i've ever stayed in. Karakalpakstan.













My bike, rescued from the bike shed at work for 40 pounds. Not bad eh.














Serious public transport for the Uzbek desert.















Bukura.

Kazakhstan

Cycling Baku to Uzbekistan via Kazakhstan and Karakalpakstan.

I didn’t have to wait long for a boat to Kazakhstan. The boat ride was an experience. It is meant to take 18hrs but mine took 55. There was a lot of vodka drunk and a lot of fighting. The first fight broke out before we even left Baku port. (A lot of people have asked so I’ve put all the info on boats, visas in a post at the start of this blog, here.

Leaving Aktau and heading for a far flung border between two far flung countries I was at best feeling nervous and at worst scared shittless. Much like I felt back in England then. The first day was glorious, perfect asphalt and blue skies. The asphalt soon ran out and an icey headwind picked up. I made most of the 500km to Beyneu rattling through the steppe at about 8kmh, teeth bared and muttering curses that would make Chubby Brown listen with interest. It doesn't matter though. I now realise that headwind builds character! The sheer scale and emptiness of the place is awesome and the memory of that headwind fades against the memory of camping out on the steppe, miles away from anything under a million stars with only a few camels skulking aroung for company. An experience I will never forget and something you have to do for yourself to fully appreciate.

The asphalt runs out 200km out of Aktau and it's pretty bad ruts all the way, 300km to Beyneu. Be prepared to make all distances between villages on your own. There are meant to be truckstops/cafes but you can't garuntee they'll be open. For the last 190km to Beyneu there was nothing, absolutley zero save a dilapadated building that was meant to be a cafe, a few camels and about 1 or 2 cars an hour. I think most of the roads in west Kazakhstan are unsealed. The long haul north across the entire country must be one hell of a ride.

Made it to Beyneu, a ramshackle mad max jumble of a place that looks like it's just been dropped onto the steppe. Kazakhstan was meant to be the easy part, there was 300km or so of even worse roads through even more empty land to get to Uzbekistan proper. The thought of dissappering alone, into complete isolation onto the Eurasian steppe for 5 more days didn't appeal and I ended up on the train for 350km to Kunghirot, the first sizeable town in north Uzbekistan. The conductor led me onto the train, announced to everyone that I was a tourist, an Arab from England and then, with all eyes on me, sat me down and gestured for me to lead the cabin in pray.

Will I regret not cycling that leg, or not even attemting to cycle it....maybe. I know it's possible because i've heard of other people doing it but at I was wasted after the Kazakh leg and the sight of the train sitting at the platform was too big a lure. I went into auto pilot and before I knew it was buying a ticket. I was told there was a "road" of some description within sight of the rail tracks but all could see from the train was a couple of tyre tracks through the sand running parallel to the train tracks and zero traffic.

Kazakh kids.

It's not as flat as you think out here, climbing onto the Ustyurt plateau.

Beyneu: A long way from Kidderminster.

A view from the train, I think thats the road down there.