Avaghon touring bicycles in India

Farawayistan

Author: Robin & Sabina

  • Did we make a mistake choosing panniers?

    Did we make a mistake choosing panniers?

    One of the toughest decisions we had to make with choosing our bikes, was panniers or bikepacking bags. We’d read countless blogs, peaked on every cyclists instagram feed and asked around in different stores. We chose panniers, but did we choose wrong? The thought of bikepacking never let us go.

    What are we even talking about

    For the non-cyclists who somehow ended up on this blog, first let us define the difference between the two options. Panniers are simply said bags that hang on the side of a rack. The word panniers originally refers to bags slung across the back of an animal (such as a horse or a donkey).

    The load in the bags would be hung down on either side of the animal. This way the distribution of the weight is lower so that the animal, or in our case the bike, won’t be as off-balance, and distributes the weight evenly.

    The deal with bikepacking

    Bikepacking bags, which can also be referred to as a bikepacking set-up are kind of like a backpack for your bike. Like a backpack, where you attach the bag with straps close to your body, you strap the bags to the bike. There are multiple ways to do this. You can attach a frame bag within the frame of the bike, using up the whole triangular space or just a part of it. 

    A bag can be attached to the seat post underneath the saddle, referred to as a saddle bag. The tubes of the frame on your bike all have their own names, and for every single one of them, a bikepacking bag manufacturer has thought of a way to attach some storage room.

    We took a chance

    We had numerous reasons for our decision to go with the good old panniers. Stability, easy packing and mounting and dismounting of the bags. Enough place to carry all that we need, the ability to store stuff on top of the panniers. Besides, it looked like (almost) everyone else on a trip as long as ours was using panniers. And it’s a lot cheaper than those expensive bikepacking bags. Because they look cool, but they do come with a price.

    We were absolutely happy with our choice. Right upon the moment we left Tbilisi and had our first climb with a fully loaded bike. On top of our fully packed panniers, and the bike weighing 18 kg, we also had an extra big dry bag on Sabina’s rear rack. It didn’t take long for her to convince Robin to take over this bag, making his already heavy bike even heavier. Right there, at that moment we started to think of things we were going to scrap.

    Are you a gatherer or a shedder?

    You see, there are two types of bicycle tourists, gatherers and shedders. Some people find treasures along the way and carry them with great pleasure. These gatherers may even care about grams, but just cannot resist the temptation of having that special extra thing. Some might just be strong beasts, with legs that pedal as if they are made of steel. Not caring about the weight.  You guess which kind we are. 

    Listing and shipping

    In our minds we were making a list, what things do we really need and which are just nice to have. How many pairs of underwear does Robin really need? Well at least more than one, we found out. We decided on a list of things we would ship home, lifting almost 4 kg of our bikes. In Tajikistan we again shipped a parcel, ahead instead of home this time. Clearing space in our panniers for food and water, which we were told we would need on the Pamir Highway (we brought way too much).

    A good bad decision

    Having finished this difficult route, we are now sure we made the wrong decision. Which actually happened to be a good one to make. Having panniers, gave us enough space to bring practically everything we wanted to bring. It also made it easy to carry plenty of food on the Pamir. The past couple of months we have figured out what stuff we actually use, and which we could be without. This makes it a lot easier to decide what’s going and what is staying.

    We also got to see how other cyclists carry their stuff, some very minimal and some a bit more comprehensive. Sabina got ‘lucky’ her panniers fell apart halfway. This way we could get a refund and spend that money on the new bikepacking bags she wanted. Bikepacking bags are not cheap, so we are changing to our new set-up in steps. Sabina is now halfway there and Robin is still in the market. Our current set-up:

    Sabina’s set-up

    Sabina's Avaghon S28 hybrid biketouring and bikepacking setup, Vaude and Apidura
    Frame bag Apidura expedition full frame pack 7,5 liter
    Saddle bag Apidura saddle pack 14 liter
    Front panniers Vaude aqua front 2 x 14 liter
    Food pouch Apidura backcountry food pouch 0,8 liter
    Handlebar bag Ortlieb ultimate six urban 5 liter

    Still on the wishlist is exchanging the front panniers and handlebar bag with a handlebar pack and fork packs.

    Robin’s set-up

    DSCF4469
    Front panniers Ortlieb sport roller classic 2 x 12,5 liter
    Back panniers Ortlieb back roller classic 2 x 20 liter
    Handlebar bag Ortlieb ultimate six urban 5 liter
    Top tube Apidura backcountry top tube pack 1 liter

    Still on the wishlist is exchanging the rear panniers and handlebar bag for a frame bag, fork packs and handlebar pack.

    Winning by losing

    Being light means being able to cycle on more challenging terrain. It makes uphills faster and off-road more fun. As you might have learned from how we prepared and saved money for this trip, we don’t need much. So it won’t be as if we’re giving up stuff. We feel like we are actually winning big time here.

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  • The Pamir Highway – Part IV

    The Pamir Highway – Part IV

    The last stretch of the Pamir Highway is as remote as it gets. Pamir cities Alitchur, Murghab and Karakol are most definitely not the reason to visit this region. We went here for the countless numbers of peaks painting the horizon. To cycle the seemingly never ending roads and challenge ourselves on one of the highest mountain passes in the world.

    After a very cold night (temperatures drop to minus ten degrees celsius at night at this altitude) we wake up excited to start cycling on a real road again. Due to the arid environment, it was hard to find drinking water. When we’d almost ran out, we stopped a car to ask if they knew how far it would be to the next place to fill up. They immediately offered to fill our bottles with hot tea. That went perfect with our biscuits, and we had one of the most enjoyable cycling breaks ever at this beautiful lake.

    Not a single fish in Alitchur

    The next town we would pass was Alitchur. Town is a big name, it was more a collection of sad boxes where people live in. The place seemed deserted, but we found a place to fill our water bottles and a small restaurant at the end of the town. The Golden Fish, of course they didn’t offer fish. They served a pretty okay lagman (noodle soup) and microwaved but somehow still cold fries. Sabina had two plates and loved and hated it simultaneously.

    Cycling to Murghab

    Finding a campsite proved to be a challenge too. There wasn’t really anywhere you could find cover from the harsh wind and the passing trucks on the road. We found a literal hole in the ground, flattened the area and pitched our tent. At least we had some cover from the wind. Must’ve been quite the sight for cars and trucks passing by.

    On our way to Murghab we cycled a day with a Dutch couple and we met Stefano from Italy. After having cycled alone for a while, it was a nice change to ride with others again. Stefano had bought his bike on the bazar in Samarkand and was making a documentary about his journey on the Pamir Highway. His bike broke down pretty much everyday, but he was still happy about it, since he thought it was a great way of meeting new people. Mostly bike mechanics, but still, people. 

    Saving the stove

    Murghab has to be one of the weirdest places we’ve ever visited. It is famous for its container markers, but they didn’t really sell anything we wanted. We were craving fresh fruits and vegetables, but they had none of that. In Murghab we stayed in one of our favorite guesthouses of the whole Pamir. Tulgabek guesthouse wasn’t luxurious, the food wasn’t too special. But the owner was amazing, and the company was good too.

    We rested for a day, worked a bit on the bikes and checked what was the matter with our stove. We couldn’t seem to get a real strong flame going as usual. At first we thought it was due to the altitude, but Liam, Renata and Karl, whom we met at the guesthouse, weren’t having this problem at all. After a deep clean, the problem still arose. Karl saved us out big time and gave us his extra fuel line, which luckily solved the problem.

    Six snickering cyclists

    Stocked up on Snickers we set of from Murghab as a group of six. After not even one kilometer we left Stefano and Renata behind us. They would catch up with us later we figured. The road seemed endless and there was nothing in sight but mountains. Unbelievable how remote this area was.

    It was a relatively easy day of cycling, with one small climb. When we’d set up camp Renata and Stefano also arrived after a while. It was freezing cold, so everyone made their dinner quickly and got in their sleeping bag early. Except for Karl and Liam. They had bought old school bright colored toasty warm ski suits and were stoked they could finally use them. They looked hilarious.

    The Ak-Baital Pass

    There was one pass we had marked on our map immediately when we started. The Ak-Baital pass. At 4,655 metres (15,272 ft) it is the highest point of the Pamir Highway. Everyone stops to take a photo with the sign. And cycling it is very challenging due to the altitude. There is nearly 50 percent less oxygen available, and cycling uphill with a loaded bike is already hard with all oxygen available!

    Telling a joke whilst cycling uphill is the worst thing you can do. Karl and Sabina found this out the hard way, when they couldn’t breathe due to laughing. Liam didn’t seem to be bothered by the lack of oxygen at all. He just raced up the hill as if it were nothing. We think it’s because his smokers lungs are used to oxygen deprivation. So unfair.

    Oxygen deficiency

    Our effort cycling up was rewarded. The snowcapped peaks surrounded us and the views on the other side of the pass were even more spectacular. We too had to stop for a photo-op with the sign of course, and after that we were on our way to Karakol. It was still a stretch and the wind had picked up. The good asphalt road had also made place for that crappy washboard again. About 25 kilometers before Karakol we caved and picked a spot for our tent. Liam was in desperate need of cigarettes, so they carried on in hope of finding a shop.

    Cow dung shower

    It was so terribly cold that night and we were both so exhausted. The next morning when we started cycling again we had a huge fight about nothing. The breathtaking surroundings added even more drama to our feelings. For what we’ve heard, this happens to everyone. It’s not easy when it happens. Emotions run high, but afterwards we always take time to try and understand each other. And after every lovers quarrel we seem to come out stronger than before.

    We reached Karakol on each others good side again. The place itself was just like Murghab and Karakol. A collection of sad white boxes functioning as houses. We found a guesthouse, which was surprisingly nice. To keep out the cold, all walls had been covered by carpets. The bucket shower was nice and hot, heated by dried cow dung. The lake was beautiful and we went out on a mission to buy some food in this ghost town. Tomato sauce and spaghetti were the most nutritious items we could find. Boy, were we craving some fresh produce by now.

    The finish line in sight

    After Karakol we still had a fair amount of cycling to do, but it felt like we were so close to the finish of the Pamir Highway. We had to get to to a whole new country, Kyrgyzstan. And to get there we had a few 4000+ meter passes to overcome. The landscape between the second and the third pass had to be one of the most amazing we’ve had ever seen. The mountains were brightly colored. Nothing else but peaks as far as you could see, and basically no cars or trucks to share the road with. Complete solitude, except for more cyclists we’d met along the way.

    At the end of our last day in Tajikistan, the wind was brutal and unforgiving. The washboard road gave us one good last farewell to a country that had challenged us in so many ways. Facing the last climb, the Kyzylart pass, Sabina was ready to give up. We could see our fellow cyclists struggling up the hill. Even with a 46 cassette they weren’t able to cycle up but had to push instead. We were so cold, so ready to be in Kyrgyzstan, so we carried on pushing uphill.

    Yak yoghurt heaven

    At the top of the pass, the border police took us in to their warm office and gave us candy. There were three offices we had to pass to show exactly the same documents. Oh Asian efficiency, aren’t you a charm. From here on we were promised downhill cycling. We knew there was a guesthouse between the borders and opted for a warm bed at a hospitable family instead of another cold night in our tent.

    We watched The Lion King (hello childhood memories) on a small portable tv with their kid, whilst he played with a balloon most of the time and we watched the film. The mother offered us yak kefir for desert of which we were a bit hesitant to try. Robin was brave and Sabina was forced, but it was the best yoghurt we have ever had. We poured sweet berries and jam over it and found ourselves in yak yoghurt heaven. 

    Yaks in the way

    Those yaks were also living with this family, right outside their doorstep. When Sabina woke up in the middle of the night and had to pee, she went outside to the pit latrine. Only to find four big yaks staring back at her when she opened the door. They were blocking the way and when those huge animals start huffing and growling at you, you don’t continue. You pee on the doorstep, and that’s just what she did.

    Kyrgyzstan, a new country

    Kyrgyzstan welcomed us with one of the most beautiful rides on the trip, which ended in one of the most boring ones. We descended about one thousand meters, but it was so gradual and we had a headwind once again, so it still felt like a long day. About 30 kilometers before Sary Tash the mountains disappear. It’s flat empty and boring and for the last part we had to share the road with many trucks all loaded with black coal.

    A hero named Sandy

    We had a rest day, and added one extra for the snow that fell. The ATM in Sary Tash had decided to not give us any cash. We didn’t have any US dollars left to exchange for Kyrgyz currency and we still had to survive for at least two days to reach Osh. And as so many times before on this trip, right when we thought we were in real trouble we were saved.

    Our hero this time went by the name of Sandy. She and her lovely Australian group were staying in the same guesthouse as we were. They were on an amazing journey, traveling from Beijing to Istanbul all over land. They tried to convince us we had to come and cycle in Australia. The nature is beautiful after all, filled with amazing wild life. Like human devouring crocodiles for instance, boxing kangaroos and a wide variety of attacking birds that like to go straight to the eye. Maybe next year..

    The final stretch

    By the skin of our teeth we cycled three more days. Trucks kept offering us rides, but we insisted on cycling this final stretch. Two hundred kilometers, two thousand horses next to the road, and two camp spots later we had made it. We were in Ош (Osh, Kyrgyzstan). Ready to eat burgers, drink coffee, go to the super market, act like tourists at the bazar and off course get food poisoning straight away.

    We did it. Round of applause.

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  • The Pamir Highway – Part III

    The Pamir Highway – Part III

    Our third week on the Pamir Highway led us through the famous Wakhan corridor. A historical, remote and beautiful region, with only a river separating Tajikistan from Afghanistan. We passed old ruins, military bases and wheat fields, and everyone we met greeted us with a smile and a heartfelt invitation for chai.

    After a week of recuperating from severe food poisoning and exhaustion, it was finally time to leave Khorog. Despite Robins illness we had feasted on all exciting cuisines the university town had to offer. By our normal standards we hadn’t been to impressed by MacDolands, Khorog Fried Chicken, a mediocre Indian restaurant and a simple coffee bar. But for us after a few weeks of deprivation of these luxuries, it all seemed Michelin-worthy. Except for the burger at MacDolands, that one was just as terrible as to be expected.

    Whakan mindset

    Khorog is also the turn-off for the Wakhan corridor. Our Belgian friend Frederik had departed a few days before us, only to return the same day after a flat. It had him completely loose his motivation to continue. James, who had taken the main road a few days earlier, had also reported that the roads on the M41 were dreamy. We however had our minds set on the Wakhan, so terrible roads or not. We were doing this.

    The little topographer

    Expecting the worst, we were quite surprised by the quality of the road the first few days. Also the lack of shops wasn’t at all as bad as portrayed. We passed small villages, only with more kilometers in between them as before. Locals still invited us in for tea, and served us entire feasts with fruit, cake and bread and home made kefir. Despite not being able to understand each others language we tried communicating. Once when we told a family we are from the Netherlands, we asked the kid if he knew it. Usually we get an ahaaa, which pretty much always means not a single clue. But this clever kid walked to his big map he had on a wall and pointed at our tiny little country without hesitating. Very impressive!

    A stupa and Yamchun Fort

    We cycled along wheat fields, where the Pamiris still harvest by hand. A labor-intensive task which seemed to involve half the town. Tucked into the mountainside was an ancient Buddhist stupa, we decided to visit. A small squad of young girls showed us to the ruins. It wasn’t much more than a pile of rocks to be honest, so we hoped for more at the next ruin site we visited.

    The Yamchun Fort didn’t disappoint. Most likely because of three armed soldiers setting the tone, exiting the fort after a patrol, just before we entered. The fort is located on the modern-day border between Tajikistan and Afghanistan, overlooking the Wakhan Valley, and large sections of the Afghan Hindu Kush mountains. The fort was build between 300 and 100 BC and we were impressed by its state, given the harsh environment.

    Military bases

    By now we seemed to pass military bases as frequent as small towns, but we never felt unsafe. The soldiers patrolled the widening river along the border and they greeted us and we greeted them. Before we entered Ishkashim we heard gun shots for the first time. It was broad day light, so it was probably just an exercise, as no one seemed to care.

    Bread magic

    If you ever pass by Ishkashim, buy bread. Buy heaps of bread. There’s a small bakery where they hand you the big round flat breads straight out of the oven. We had to be careful we didn’t burn our hands. We bought three big ones, and they lasted us for days. And the last piece tasted almost as fresh as it had just been baked. Bread magic. 

    Our egg container had also proved to be worth while. We could easily find eggs in every little town, so it was eggs for lunch every day. We must have devoured at least a hundred eggs in this country. 

    War zone

    After Ishkashim we found a camp site on the bed of the river. We washed in the icy cold water and huddled in the tent after sunset. All of a sudden we noticed a strong flashlight shining in to our camp from the other side of the river. A little later, we could see the flashlight moving from time to time. We could also see bright flashes lighting up the entire sky, but obviously coming from very far away. It was rather eery, not knowing what this was. We knew the situation in Afghanistan had become more unstable, because the Afghan market in Ishkashim had been cancelled earlier that week. We decided to turn down our lights and just go to sleep.

    Afghan and Pakistan mountains

    The next morning the Wakhan woke up as nothing had happened. Farmers were working on their fields, kids were playing and we were cycling past it all. A few kilometeres after a town called Shitkarv the road also turned shit. The landscape became more arid between towns and it was harder to escape the unforgiving sun and strong winds. There was one particular long gradual climb on a terrible surface, but with an ever rewarding panorama on the Afghan and Pakistan mountains.

    The dreadful Khargush pass

    Every now and then we meet a (hitch)hiker or other cyclist coming from the other way. They all warn us for the upcoming Khargush pass. They say it will take us at least three days to push our bikes up. Cycling is out of the question, it’s impossible they say. In Langar we stay at a guesthouse with two guys we met in Khorog, Kobe and François. They cycled the Bartang Valley and were on their way back to Dushanbe. We loved Kobe’s story, how he just bought a bike in Kyrgyzstan and hand made panniers from plastic jerrycans.

    The Khargush pass kept worrying us and Kobe’s and François’ report about it didn’t calm our nerves. We were both pretty exhausted and were not feeling pushing our bikes for days. So we chickened out, we got a ride instead. It actually turned out great. The views from the car were amazing, we loved just soaking it all in. The car broke down of course, but that only gave us more time to enjoy the scenery. Thirty minutes later we were on our way again, to be dropped off at the highest point of the pass.

    Dreamy asphalt

    We cycled for about 25 kilometers on the worst road so far and pushed our bikes through deep sand. Not having had to endure the climb of the Khargush we were both having so much fun. We literally bounced on the road, enjoying the washboard way too much. It was hilarious. When the asphalt of the M41 was back in sight, we decided it would be the perfect place to pitch our tent. Dreaming of smooth roads we fell asleep.

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  • A look into our wardrobe

    A look into our wardrobe

    How do you fit an entire four season wardrobe on a bike? We’ll show you how in this overview of all of our clothing. Take a look in our panniers and see how we dress.

    Merino is pretty much the answer to all of our problems. It doesn’t smell because of its antibacterial properties, it’s lightweight, it keeps us warm, it’s breathable so we don’t get clammy. And thanks to our favorite merino brand Icebreaker it’s also natural and sustainable. This is our full wardrobe, it ain’t much but it sure is good.

    Robin off the bike

    Off the bike men's bikepacking clothes
    T-shirt 2 Icebreaker tech-lite short sleeve crewe
    Long sleeve DHB merino base layer
    Short sleeve DHB merino short sleeve
    Hoodie Icebreaker quantum long sleeve zip hood
    Vest Patagonia better sweater vest
    Underwear 2 Icebreaker merino anatomica boxershorts
    Trousers Fjällräven karl zip-off
    Thermal pants Helly Hansen thermal pants
    Socks Smartwool hike medium crew
    Swim shorts H&M swim shorts

    Robin on the bike

    Men's bikepacking clothes
    Bib shorts I Assos equipe S7
    Bib shorts II Rapha classic bib shorts STOLEN
    Padded Boxer Castelli padded shorts
    Jersey Rapha brevet jersey
    Long sleeve Rapha brevet long sleeve windblock jersey
    Buff DHB merino buff
    Socks 2 GripGrab merino socks
    Leg warmers DHB merino leg warmers
    Arm warmers DHB merino arm warmers
    Helmet ZeroRH+ zy
    Cap Rapha cap

    Robin staying dry and warm

    Men's bikepacking clothes cold weather
    Down jacket Patagonia down sweater hoody
    Rain jacket Patagonia torentshell jacket
    Rain trousers Decathlon rain trousers
    Beanie Icebreaker pocket hat
    Gloves Sealskinz waterproof all weather insulated gloves, Mammut gore-tex gloves

    Robin’s happy feet

    Men's bikepacking shoes
    Cycling Shimano mw7 waterproof gore-tex spd shoes
    Overshoes DHB overshoes
    Hiking Hanwag tingri
    Sandals Teva original sandals

    Sabina off the bike

    Off the bike women's bikepacking clothes
    Tanktop Icebreaker cool-lite solace tank
    T-shirt Icebreaker cool-lite solace short sleeve scoop
    Top H&M casual spaghetti strap top
    Long sleeve Icebreaker merino 200 oasis long sleeve crewe
    Hoodie super.natural funnel hoodie
    Bra Icebreaker sprite racerback bra, H&M sports top
    Underwear Icebreaker Everyday boy shorts, 3 H&M hipster briefs
    Trousers Fjällräven karla zip-off
    Thermal pants Icebreaker merino 200 oasis leggings
    Socks Hanwag merino alpin socke
    Swimsuit Banana moon bikini

    We’ve bought some additional clothing for our time off the bikes in India and Sri Lanka.

    Blouse H&M blouse
    Trousers H&M joggers, Collins cotton trousers
    Jumpsuit H&M short jumpsuit

    Sabina on the bike

    Women's bikepacking clothes
    Bib shorts I Rapha souplesse bib shorts
    Bib shorts II Endless women’s bib shorts STOLEN
    Jersey Isadore woolight jersey
    Long sleeve Isadore long sleeve jersey
    Buff Isadore merino buff
    Socks 2 GripGrab merino lightweight socks
    Leg warmers DHB merino leg warmers
    Arm warmers Rapha merino arm warmers STOLEN
    Helmet Kask mojito x helmet
    Cap Fjällräven abisko pack cap

    Sabina staying dry and warm

    Women's bikepacking clothes cold weather
    Down jacket Patagonia down sweater
    Rain jacket Patagonia torentshell jacket
    Rain trousers Decathlon rain trousers
    Beanie Icebreaker pocket hat
    Gloves Icebreaker quantum gloves, Burton gore-tex gloves
    Scarf Cashmere scarf (can also be worn as head scarf)

    Sabina’s happy feet

    Women's bikepacking shoes
    Cycling Lake mx 1 wide leather
    Overshoes SealSkinz waterproof overshoes
    Hiking Hanwag tatra II wide gtx
    Sandals Teva original sandals

    Do we need it all?

    For some, this list of clothing might seem as way too much. Others wonder how we survive with so little. After six months of travel, this has worked out perfect for us. However, to shed some grams we are still thinking about dropping some things. The hiking boots for example. Besides cycling we love to hike, that’s why we carry quite heavy hiking boots. For now we keep them, but it is very likely that we’ll send them off soon. 

    What should I bring on a bikepacking trip?

    Chances are big this list will be quite different in six months. If you are reading this blog to find inspiration what to bring on your upcoming bike trip, know that we already shipped a bunch of stuff home. Mostly items of which we carried multiple, like base layers, a jersey and socks.

    If you have good merino wear like we do, one or two pieces is more than enough. And for as far as we’ve seen, everyone send stuff home after a few months. So if you really want to bring that extra jersey or buff, just do it. You’ll either be happy you have it, or ship it later with the rest.

    Our stuff was stolen

    Noticed how some items are crossed out? On our amazing adventure cycling the Annapurna Circuit, some of our clothing was stolen. We had pushed the bikes up towards the Thorung La pass at 5.416 meters, since it is too hard to do it in only one day. We locked the bikes and left them for the night. Some punks thought it was cool to steal the items we had left in the frame bag.

    We are now saving up to replace these items. Good cycling shorts are quite essential for us. You can help us by making a donation via Paypal (international) or iDeal (Netherlands). Your help means the world to us!

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  • The Pamir Highway – Part II

    The Pamir Highway – Part II

    The stretch between Qal’ai Khumb and Khorog was only 240 kilometers. But with bike issues, military visits and patients along the road it was a very eventful couple of days.

    There are a million amazing camp spots on the Pamir, but some days it seemed nearly impossible to find one. We were locked in between the river and the mountains that formed a high wall next to the road. The only flat grassy area was right next to the road, but after clearing some of the dried up cow droppings we made it work.

    Wheel of disaster

    Happy to be cycling as a group we set off the next morning. Daniel noticed a wobbly wheel, so we stopped to check it out. Thats when disaster struck. He had broken a spoke on his rear wheel, and needed to replace it. Everything that could possibly go wrong happened. His derailleur pad snapped and the cage bent while he was trying to take the cassette off.

    We will rock you

    We found a small shop where we could borrow some tools. With a lead pipe, our cassette tool and Daniels chain, Robin and Daniel managed to finally get the cassette off to replace the spoke. Of course a big group of local kids (plus one old man) found all of this very interesting. They all wanted to see what these strange people where doing in their little town. Thea was great at distracting them from the guys, by teaching them the We will rock you dance and her signing (not singing), which she does as a profession.

    Military camping

    With 32 kilometers it was just a short day, but we were rewarded with a great camp spot. Next to the road, down by the river was a flat area with some trees and enough flat grass to pitch our tent.  Across the road was also a military base camp, so before we pitched our tent we checked with them if it was okay. We knocked on the big green door and a small hatch opened. 

    In our best Russian (read by saying palatka, tonight, sleep, okay, yes? and putting two thumbs up with a big smile) we explained the situation. Every time the hatch would close and open again with a bigger hat to hear our request. Eventually we figured out it was no problem. We even asked them to charge our power banks and Wahoo’s and that was fine too. 

    How we ride

    It was a beautiful starry night. Daniel and Thea celebrated their successful bicycle repair with a camp fire. We sat around the fire and talked about how and why we travel. About the choices we make and how they affect us. Should we be hard or easy on ourselves. Fight or bend. Give in or soldier on. Hitch or ride. Amongst many cyclists there is a feeling you should cycle everything. Even the extremely hard or absolutely boring parts that don’t give joy in any way. After all we chose to go bicycle touring right? We even get comments about hitchhiking a 400k desert stretch from strangers on Facebook. ‘Cycle all the way or go backpacking’. 

    But why? We are doing this because we are cutting ourselves slack. Not following the typical life path that fits in a consumers market. Yes we went to college and got a job. For us however, the next step wasn’t a mortgage and first a dog, then a baby. We chose to do it in our own way. It isn’t necessary to do difficult things just because it’s in your expected path. You can certainly choose to, but you don’t have to. To each his own.

    Fully charged

    Thankfully most reactions we get are positive, no matter if we ‘cheat’ sometimes. People are curious about our daily life, always on the road. How we cook and how we sleep. So were the soldiers that came to check up on us, scaring us a bit when they emerged from the smoke from our camp fire holding their big rifles. They too, just wanted to see what we were up to. These weird cyclists next to their base. The next morning they came again, this time with our fully charged devices.

    Four becomes five

    At our first snack stop, we see a familiair bicycle outside a restaurant. Immediately after we saw the owner, James from the UK. Our other roommate at Green House in Dushanbe. He had set off a few days before us together with Frederik from Belgium. They were quick fast, so we hadn’t expected to see them again. They had both fallen sick and had a few days of recovery in Qal’ai Khumb. James had opted for a fancy hotel and recovered before Fred, so he had continued but only to find himself sick in this little town again. 

    Luckily the restaurant owner took care of him and he was just about to get on his way when we cycled along. We loved cycling in a group, so we were happy to add James to our little cycling quartet. Four had now become five.

    Popping panniers

    Sharing stories distracted us a bit from the terrible road conditions. It kept going up and down all day long and you had to focus on the road to avoid the big rocks. At one point Sabina’s panniers even decided they’d had enough of it and completely gave in. The glued seam had popped open, probably due to all the bouncing and the hot sun melting it. We had just stopped with some overlanders we’d met previously in Green House Dushanbe. With their help we taped them back together, so they would hopefully last until Khorog. 

    SIM scam

    We all rode at a slightly different pace, but that didn’t matter. We would always wait for each other at the small shops. We had to fill up on water, and of course eat a million Snickers bars and gallons of ice cream. In Rushon we had a special mission. Our SIM cards had stopped working after only ten days, even though the employee had promised us a month. We had tried to address it in Qal’ai Khumb, but they didn’t want to help us and simply closed the store. In Rushon they weren’t of much help either. We agreed with the lady that we would get new SIM cards, but then all of a sudden she wanted us to pay the full amount for a whole month again. 

    Stealing SIM cards

    After at least forty-five minutes of going back and forth we decided we had enough. As James and Robin where just starting a tea party across the street, we decided to leave with our new SIM cards. The lady said she was calling the police, so that tea party had to be cut short. We cycled out of that town as fast as we could, constantly looking over our shoulders. For obvious reasons the SIM cards where deactivated immediately and the coppers never showed. It was a big waste of time, and of a tea party too.

    Khorog in sight

    As Khorog was getting closer and closer, the roads where also starting to improve. Just one more night and one more day of riding before we could finally rest. It was much needed, because Robin was feeling worse by the day. Sabina and James insisted on camping on a sand bank, where they’d hoped to find some shelter from the wind. We carried the bikes down and pitched our tents in the sand. The pegs didn’t get any grip in the sand so James’ tent almost ended up in Afghanistan if Robin hadn’t sprinted after it and caught it.

    We saw a truck pass by with Frederiks bike on it, so we knew we would see him again in Khorog. One more thing to look forward to. That and coffee of course.

    The Pamir Lodge

    The last stretch to Khorog we cycled with just the two of us. The road had truly become a road again and we felt like we had cycled back into civilization. We passed the airport with a cow on the landing strip. There are no flights anymore since Aeroflot suspended the flight to Dushanbe in 2017. This was the only route on which Aeroflot paid its pilots danger money.

    As we finally cycled into the city we saw Fred. He had just been to the hospital and was given some medicine and they’d ran multiple tests. He was staying at the same hostel we wanted to go. The Pamir Lodge is the place to be for cyclists. We have no idea who came up with this, because it is only reachable by a ridiculously steep road. It felt so mean.

    Hospitalized

    The Pamir Lodge was a good place to stay and to meet other cyclists. Unfortunately Robin was only feeling worse and after a few days of only getting sicker, Sabina made him go to the hospital. Within ten minutes he was seen by an English speaking doctor and she immediately admitted him to the emergency room. He was completely dehydrated and needed to get fluids asap.

    With a bag full of medicine, dietary advice and supplements we were sent on our way the same day. Now it was time to recover and that needed time. The hardest part was after all still to come.

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  • Cycling The Pamir Highway – Tajikistan, Dushanbe to Qal’ai Khumb

    Cycling The Pamir Highway – Tajikistan, Dushanbe to Qal’ai Khumb

    The Pamir is adventure cyclists paradise. We spent a month in the beautiful landscapes of Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan. We cycled the legendary Ak-Baital pass (4.655 m) and followed the Panj river separating Tajikistan with Afghanistan. The northern route was rugged but beautiful and the Wakhan Corridor offered us a unique insight in Tajik culture and hospitality.

    Immediately as we began cycling into Tajikistan, the mountains appeared. The agricultural landscape of Uzbekistan made place for small towns on steep hills. We had been warned about the overly enthusiastic children, greeting us right from the start. And the warnings had not been in vain.

    Cycling the Pamir Highway
    Cycling the Pamir Highway
    Cycling the Pamir Highway

    Camp sites

    It took us three days to reach Dushanbe and a couple hundred kids yelling high five. We had been cycling on flat lands the last months, so the mountains gave us a proper exercise. This new country also offered more interesting camp sites. We set up camp at small farms and in an apple tree orchard.

    Cycling the Pamir Highway
    Magic light in Tajikistan

    The tunnel of Death

    The road leading up to Dushanbe is pretty good, and had only one truly challenging climb in it. The climb up to the Anzob tunnel is long and steep, and we cycled there during the hottest hour of the day. The tunnel is also known as the ‘tunnel of Death’, so we knew we had to hitchhike through it. It’s a good thing we did, because it was pitch black for 5 km and the air was terribly polluted. Little did we know, that after the tunnel there were another 18 or so! Most of them were pretty short, but the one immediately after the big tunnel still gave Sabina the shivers. 

    The tunnel of death, Dushanbe
    The tunnel of death, Dushanbe

    Breezy downhill 

    After the tunnel, the ride to Dushanbe was a breeze. Or at least it was supposed to be, a strong headwind still had us pedaling, even going downhill. We did still manage to ride our first century (100 km) on the trip. At the Green House hostel we were greeted by so many cyclists. All of them heading to the Pamir, or just having finished.

    Cycling to Dushanbe

    Which route?

    The biggest question at Green House was ‘which route are you taking?’. There are a few options to get from Dushanbe to Osh. All of them with different difficulty levels. To start, we had to choose the northern or southern road. Northern was more challenging but had better views. The southern road was easier, but also had more traffic. After days of going back and forth we decided to go for the northern road.

    Our original plan was to cycle the Wakhan corridor, a challenging route. At Green House many people told us the Bartang was even more beautiful. It’s a shortcut from Rushon to Karakol, so we would have missed out on the high plateau. We played with the idea to do both, but unfortunately never got the chance.

    Start of a lifetime adventure

    After a weeks rest it was finally time to start this once in a lifetime adventure. We set off together with a French father and son on their super lightweight gravel bikes. The road condition was perfect. At the end of the day, having cycled 90 km we had an awesome descent. We couldn’t find a camp spot next to the road, but a kind family had a souvenir shop and they let us sleep in it for the night. The next morning Sabina woke up with a terrible cold. Cycling downhill after sunset with sweaty clothes was probably to blame.

    We decided to continue, and the road was still pretty okay. Our French friends were a lot faster than us, so they texted us with some info about the road ahead. At the crossroads of the old and new road, they warned us to take the new road. We quote ‘if you want to avoid a big argument with each other, take the new road’. They had just built the new road, and it had two huge climbs on gruelling gravel. Halfway up the second climb a convoy of officials passed us, and Sabina asked them if they wanted to lighten our bicycles by taking some panniers to the top. Why not the whole bike, they offered. It was hot, it was hard, and we happily took their offer. 

    Cycling the Pamir Highway
    Cycling the Pamir Highway
    Cycling the Pamir Highway

    Red dirt road

    After the drop-off the paved road made place for red coloured dirt. The track took us along the edge of a beautiful green valley. We were beat at the end of the day. In a small town we tried to find a clear water stream and could see a tap at a doctors point behind a fence. A soldier saw us looking and offered to jump over the fence to fill our bottles. When we asked about his job, he smiled awkwardly and said ‘oh no, why you ask’. It was top secret. He pointed us to a family and told us to ask if we could spend the night there. We obliged and the family was happy to take us in.

    Sabina was still not feeling fully recovered from that first day and the road conditions were only deteriorating. The ride to Tavildara was for us brutal, so we decided to find a hotel and recover for a bit. We got Sabina some undefinable medicine, which actually helped pretty well. 

    From Dushanbe to Tavildara
    From Dushanbe to Tavildara
    From Dushanbe to Tavildara

    ‘Not for cyclists’

    The road after Tavildara was similar to the previous two days. Beautiful but hard. Someone at the hotel had advised us to take a different road, because of a landslide. Later when we looked on iOverlander, we noticed that the road had been bookmarked ‘beautiful road, not for cyclist’. It was nearly impossible to cycle, and we had to push our bikes up trough deep gravel and stones. At one point we were even overtaken by a guy walking, holding a pitchfork. Robins shoes didn’t survive this suffering and to be honest we ourselves barely did. After only 38 km but 1406 m elevation, we called it a day. We were rewarded with a beautiful sunset and an amazing camp spot.

    Sabina on the Pamir Highway
    Robin on the Pamir Highway

    Bataham pass

    After such a hard day we only wanted to get to the top of the pass. Cycling was impossible at this point due to the road conditions. The only car that passed was way too small to fit us and the bikes, but the Tajik are resourceful and after some dis- and reassembling of the bikes and the car, we had a ride to the top. On our way we passed Adrien from France and Daniel and Thea from Scandinavia whom we had met before in Dushanbe and Uzbekistan. We decided to wait for them, so we could all cycle together.

    Descending to Qal’ai Khumb

    The descent to Qal’ai Khumb was breathtaking. Robins brakes malfunctioned, but Daniel taught us how to adjust them on the spot. We were loving the views and had a big smile plastered on our face the whole ride. It was almost a shame it had to come to an end. 

    In Qal’ai Khumb we could stock up on some groceries in a decent European style supermarket, and we camped a few kilometers outside the city together with Daniel and Thea. This was also where the road collided with the river separating Tajikistan from Afghanistan. A river we were to follow for the entire Wakhan corridor, giving us a peak inside the life on the Afghan side.

    Bataham pas, Tajikistan
    Panj river Tajikistan

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  • A look into our kitchen

    A look into our kitchen

    Cycling all day every day, means being hungry most of the time. Luckily for us we always have our entire kitchen with us. In some countries the cuisine isn’t that interesting, eating out is expensive or simply not available. That’s when we pull out our stove. And for our oats which we eat every morning of course. Here’s a look into our kitchen, the things we love and the stuff we’ve sent home.

    The Stove

    To cook our food we use the MSR Whisperlite stove. We love it and sometimes we hate it. Robin is the ‘stove-master’ and halfway in the Pamir he started cursing at the WhisperLite more and more. The otherwise blue torch became a weak little flame. We cleaned the stove following the guidelines of the manual, but with no result. Luckily someone saved us with a spare fuel line, which turned out to be the problem.

    A plus for the MSR Whisperlite is that we never have to worry about gas canisters. We simply use gasoline. The stove works best with Euro92 or higher. Which you can find pretty much everywhere.

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    Stove tips

    • Download the manual digitally here, it’s very handy for maintenance
    • The fuel bottle (591 ml/20 fl) oz lasts us for about seven days cooking 2-3 meals per day for 2 persons
    • Carry an extra fuel line, this part is likeliest to break down on you
    • Use Euro92 or higher for the best results 

    Pots and pans

    We have a huge pot compared to a lot of people we’ve cycled with. But then again, we are cooking for two and most of the other ones are just for one. We bought the Sea to Summit Alpha 2 Pot Cook set and only brought the biggest pot, which is 2,7 liter. This is more than big enough to cook up some rice with veggies or prepare a pasta meal.

    In addition to the pot we also bought the Alpha Pan. Perfect for frying eggs and we even made pancakes in them!

    Talking about those eggs. One of the best luxuries we brought on this trip was our egg box. It can carry six eggs, and usually all of them survive. We double bag it just in case, because trust us when we say that cleaning raw egg from your panniers isn’t fun.

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    Cups and plates

    With the Alpha 2 Pot Cook set also came two plates and two cups. We didn’t bring the lids and sleeves for the cups, since it felt a bit unnecessary to us. Plus, every gram is extra work on those climbs! We use the SeatoSummit X-plate as a chopping board and it doubles as an extra serving bowl. 

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    The cutlery bag

    We don’t have to worry about the weight of our spork and knife, since these weigh nearly anything. The Sea to Summit Alpha light, made from aluminum, weighs only 16 grams per set. 

    We have an Opinel knife no. 10, and a Victorinox Swiss Army knife (which Sabina broke, because she tried to clean it with boiling hot water. That didn’t go well). In our cutlery bag you will also find a lighter, matches, a washing sponge and the MSR dish brush/scraper.

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    Water system

    Drinking water straight from the tap is a luxury. But you only realize that after having filtered hundreds of liters of water. We use the Sawyer Mini Water filter, which requires some effort. You can attach the filter directly to a water bottle, in which you have collected the tap or natural water and squeeze it into your drinking bottle trough the filter.

    The squeeze bags make this a lot easier. The filter comes with a small 16 oz/0,5 liter squeeze bag, but we bought additional bags of 32 oz/1 liter.

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    Food and spices

    We used to store our food and spices in plastic bags with a zip loc, but they kept breaking. We are now going to try the simpler grip lock plastic bags. Let’s hope they last a bit longer. Your tips on storing food like rice and oatmeal are very welcome.

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    Everything in our kitchen

        • MSR Whisperlite international
        • MSR Fuel bottle 591 ml/20 fl
        • Sea to Summit Alpha 2 pot cook set, containing: Alpha pot 2,7 liters + lid, two mugs, two bowls
        • Sea to Summit Alpha pan
        • Sea to Summit X-Plate
        • Egg box 
        • Sea to Summit Alpha light spork and knife (one pair each)
        • Opinel knife no. 10
        • Victorinox Swiss Army knife
        • Small wooden spatula
        • Lighter
        • Matches 
        • Washing sponge
        • MSR dish brush/scraper
        • Grip lock plastic bags
        • Sawyer Mini Water filter
        • Sawyer Squeeze bag 32 oz (two bags)
      • Sent home or discarded: 
        • Opinel knife no. 8
        • Stanley thermo bottle Classic Vaccuum 750 ml
        • Sea to Summit X-Plate (one was enough)
        • Sea to Summit towel (lost it somewhere on the road)
        • Small wooden spatula
        • Sawyer Squeeze bag 16 oz
        • Sawyer Squeeze bag 32 oz (two was enough)

     

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  • Silk Road cycling in Uzbekistan

    Silk Road cycling in Uzbekistan

    After an insane train ride we finally arrive in Uzbekistan. A country where the ancient Silk Road is more alive than anywhere else. With Khiva, Bukhara and Samarkand as its highlights, we cycle and hitchhike in the steps traders have set for centuries.

    It was great to finally get out of the train and start cycling again. We were done with sitting still and waiting, so us and Josh decided to stock up on some groceries and make our way into the desert. Our first desert camp was official, and with the lighting of our BioLite’s and fresh cooked meal it was a true glamping experience.

    Friends along the road

    From Nukus it was still 175 kilometer to Khiva, the first highlight of Uzbekistan. The road worsened, and the scenery was a bit dull. It mostly consisted of desert, and later cotton fields next to small towns with kids greeting us as we cycled by. Along the route we even ran into some old friends from the Professor Gul on the Caspian Sea.

    A pace as high as the currency rate 

    Josh, who has been cycling the world for over two years, kept our pace high at an average of 19 km/ph. It was nice to cycle with someone else, and especially someone who spoke a few words of Russian. He taught us the word palatka, which means tent in Russian, and gave us many other useful tips. 

    As inflation has sky-rocketed in Uzbekistan, getting money was somewhat of an issue. No ATM would accept our Mastercard, and the VISA didn’t work. Well, okay. That might have been our own fault. Sabina kind of forgot the pin code. Which left us without money, since we had never gotten around to getting US dollars as a back-up. ATM’s would also be empty a lot of the time, since there are so many bills you need. Luckily we still had Josh as our sugar daddy, so we could at least buy food and drinks to survive.

    Cycling with the locals in Khiva

    A last stretch of painfully bad road, and we had finally made it to Khiva. An oasis city in the Karakum desert. The old town is surrounded by an enormous wall, which dates back to the late 17th century and is 10 meters high. Within the walls lay more than 50 historic monuments, and a lot of souvenir shops to cater for the shopping needs of the many, many visitors.

    We were surprised to see how many locals ride in and around the old town, on their antique bicycles. Most of them you can hear coming from a far, squeaking along the way.

    Before Bukhara

    Between Khiva and Bukhara, our second highlight of Uzbekistan, lays a lot of desert. 400 kilometers to be exact. Road quality is poor, and temperatures rise well over 40 °C. Luckily for us many trucks pass these cities. We cycled a little under one hundred kilometers out of the city to the highway, and managed to get a ride in exchange for a meal at a truck stop restaurant. Along the six hour ride, we ran into Devrim. Our Turkish friend who wasn’t bothered by the heat and happily pedaled his way through the desert.

    True truckers camping

    The truck driver dropped us off miles away from the city, so we ended up camping at a gas station. The attendants were happy to let us camp next to the station, they weren’t too happy when we fired up our stove. Frantically they told us to turn it off and use their stove in the kitchen instead. This gas stove was even closer to the fuel pumps, but that’s probably just Central Asian logic. We stopped trying to understand. Whatever floats the boat.

    Bukhara is the second Silk Road city, and is much bigger than Khiva. The mosques and the Caravanserais are spread out over a much larger area. With 2,500 years, this is one of the oldest cities in Central Asia. It is also a favorite place for Uzbeks to visit, especially Lyabi Hauz. A square in the centre with a beautiful pond. The fountain in combination with the shade from the trees makes temperature in the surrounding area a few degrees cooler. Men gather on benches, drink tea and enjoy the scenery.

    Sightseeing

    We conquered the high temperatures away from Lyabi Hauz. We wandered through the covered bazaars. Visited the Salon minaret and mosque, gazed through the latticed window onto the central courtyard of the Mir-I-Arab Madrassa. And we drank the best tea in Central Asia at an art gallery. 

    Bribing our way up

    At the Ark we were a bit disappointed. It felt more like we had walked into a poor museum rather than Bukhara’s ancient fortress. The enormous white washed military fortress rises above all else in the city, and we were hoping for a beautiful view over all the grand mosques and minarets. Luckily there is always someone with a key, who in exchange for some som (the local currency) can open some doors. Providing us access to an unrestored part of the Ark. Here we could walk on the 20 meter high external walls, all by ourselves.

    A bed and a warm shower

    In Bukhara we also stayed at our first Warmshowers, a free worldwide hospitality exchange for touring cyclists. Rakhima opened up her family home to us. Just outside the centre she is opening up her own homestay. Its was a real treat to spend time with her and her adoring parents. Thank you Rakhima, we wish you all the best!

    Parttime hitchhikers, parttime cyclists

    The road between Bukhara and Samarkand isn’t much better, and also across a desert. We enjoyed hitchhiking the previous time, so we decided to give that another go. We cycled out of the city again, and found a ride immediately. This time in an even more comfortable truck than the previous time. The driver was an incredibly nice man, who was happy to share his cabin with us.

    We loaded the bikes in the almost empty truck, and hopped in. The road was incredibly bad, and boring to say the least. You definitely don’t visit Uzbekistan for the places ‘in-between’ even though we’re sure you can have a good time there as well. Hanging with locals, ever so curious and hospitable.

    Samarkand is the biggest and most modern of the three Silk Road cities in Uzbekistan. A lot of traffic, many restaurants and plenty of supermarkets and shops. But shopping is of course best done at the big bazaar. Here you can buy everything you could possibly need. Fruits, vegetables, souvenirs, the typical Samarkand bread, textiles, cooking supplies, toys, you name it. They had everything. Except for a patch with a flag. Robin has been collecting patches from every country he visits. We found one in Azerbaijan. Already had one of Georgia, but Uzbekistan was proving to be impossible. Online shopping will sort him out some day, to complete the collection.

    Taking it slow in Samarkand

    Samarkand is very popular amongst tourists, so we decided to skip the crowded Registan and visit the smaller, and maybe even more beautiful Shah-I-Zinda. A sacred place for praying behind the cemetary, which was actually also a special place to see. The narrow walkway filled up quickly, even though there weren’t that many visitors. Taking a picture was all about timing, since you didn’t want any strangers in your shot.

    We found that when bicycle touring, being in cities mainly means relaxing and eating out. Therefore we didn’t visit the other main attractions in Samarkand. By now, we also felt like we had seen most of it. We were preparing ourselves to the next country. And a very special one on this trip. From Samarkand we set off towards Tajikistan. To start our Pamir adventure. 

    We cycled together with Daniel and Thea, a Swedish-Norwegian couple we met in Bukhara. But after only six kilometers out of Samarkand, we were forced to stop. Last nights pizza made Sabina sick. With no hotel, guesthouse or homestay close by, she sleeps all day in the storage room of a telephone store in a small town. Later that day we are able to cycle a bit further to a farm, where we can spend the night in an extra room. The road to Tajikistan was long, but our excitement was big when we finally came closer to the border. We could see the first mountains, and knew it was finally over with the flat lands.

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  • Crossing the Caspian to Kazakhstan

    Crossing the Caspian to Kazakhstan

    Our journey east continues. This time not on two wheels, but across sea and over train tracks. From Baku, Azerbaijan we set sail towards Kuryk, Kazakhstan. A place we would never have expected to find ourselves. From there we cycle in the Kazakh desert to Aktau, where we hop on a 30+ hour train to Nukus, Uzbekistan. A journey that took us 6 days in total. How about that for a travel experience.

    If you’re thinking about crossing the Caspian Sea by cargo ship, this blog can be quite useful. There’s no passenger ferry with a schedule. Some ride to the port, which isn’t in Baku itself but in Alat, and camp in the truck parking lot for up to four or five days. If you’re not interested in that, follow our tips and wait it out in Baku instead.

    Tracking vessels

    There are two ships you can take to get from Azerbaijan to Kazakhstan, the Professor Gul and Merkuri-1. On MarineTraffic you can follow the vessels to see where they are, and where they are heading to. Don’t count on the ETA it shows, this expires all the time. You see, Baku is known for its heavy winds. This means ships can’t always enter the harbor and need to wait it out for however long necessary.

    On Saturday we could see that the Merkuri-1 had just left Alat and Professor Gul was right out of Kuryk, Kazakhstan. That was fine, because we wanted some time in Baku for sightseeing. We kept tracking the vessel on its way to Kazakhstan, and after that Azerbaijan. 

    Ship today?

    On Saturday we could see that the Merkuri-1 had just left Alat and Professor Gul was right out of Kuryk, Kazakhstan. That was fine, because we wanted some time in Baku for sightseeing. We kept tracking the vessel on its way to Kazakhstan, and after that Azerbaijan. 

    When the ship started approaching Azerbaijan on Monday, we called the port (+994 55 999 91 24) to ask if they knew when it would arrive and if we could get on board anytime soon. No ship today, they said. Due to the wind, the port was closed. On Tuesday we got the same response, port is closed today. We could see the Professor Gul was still waiting outside Baku at the same spot, hiding from the wind.

    When we woke up on Wednesday, the first thing we did was check MarineTraffic. We could see that the ship had set course towards Alat, so we immediately called the port again. The ship was leaving today and we had first 60 minutes, then suddenly only 30 minutes to get to the port. The race against the clock had begun. We were still in our pajamas and we were a one hour car ride away from the port.

    Racing to the port

    We tried to get a Bolt car (like Uber) but there was none available, so we hauled one of the purple London-style taxi’s instead. We agreed on the amount of 50 Manat (about 25 Euro), which is high but not outrageous. The bikes barely fit, but it worked after we took Sabina’s front wheel out. Sabina had to sit next to the driver, which isn’t officially a seat, so she sat on a crate that functioned as a chair.

    Our stress levels were quite high, but we were in the car and called to let the port know we were on our way. We had already bought the tickets online, which isn’t really necessary, since you only get a voucher which you need to exchange where you buy tickets. But this way we could pay with our credit card instead of with dollars.

    The price was 80 dollars per person, and we didn’t have to pay extra for the bikes. If you buy your ticket at the harbor you will probably pay 70 dollar, but you get a bed in a cabin for four. We had a private cabin, with a toilet and shower.

    Taxi issues

    The taxi drive to the port was quite eventful to say the least. Our driver had no problem with our strict schedule, he just ignored it instead. Our first stop was at the mosque, where he could donate money. We then stopped, to after a lot of guessing figured out Sabina had to get off the crate and sit on the floor, so no one could see she was sitting in the front. After a few miles (and 5 cigarettes) he probably felt bad, because he stopped again making Sabina sit on the crate again. To make matters worse, the GPS location for the port on iOverlander wasn’t correct. We missed the exit to the port and ended up in the town of Alat instead.

    Once we finally found the port, it was very unclear where we should go. We needed to collect the tickets as fast as we could, but one of us had to stay by the taxi, since he didn’t have change from a hundred. We sure as hell weren’t paying him a single Manat more than agreed upon.

    The circus at the port

    Sabina was racing around the port on her bike with the still somewhat loose front wheel, trying to find the ticket office. When she finally found it, there were two men yelling at each other and the one at the desk had to finish stapling a lot of documents very aggressively before he would help her. We never knew one could aggressively staple, but this man sure proved it.

    Getting the tickets took ages, and Robin was still waiting with the now also angry taxi driver. Sabina exchanged the one hundred bill for two fifties, so we could finally pay the taxi. When we handed him the money, he started shouting yevro, yevro, yevro. (Did he mean Euro?) Chaos was complete at this point. Once he realized we weren’t going to give him more than agreed upon, he kicked his car and left in fury.

    This time of year there’s a circus going on in Central Asia. It’s the Mongol Rally Circus. We see lots of tiny old cars plastered in stickers, heading the same direction as us. The Rally is an intercontinental race from Prague, Czech Republic (used to be London, UK) to Ulan Ude, Russia (used to be Ulan Bator, Mongolia). We saw a bunch of them gathered on the parking lot. Most of them had been waiting there for five days, waiting on the cargo ship to Turkmenistan.

    Making new friends

    We also met three other cyclists here, Devrim from Turkey, George from the UK and Josh from the States. And then there was one odd duck parked between it all. A bright yellow Lada with a Russian license plate. It belonged to Alexey, who we befriended right away. We grabbed a bite to eat and he told us about his experience with the Transcontinental Race, a self-supportive bicycle race across Europe. But now he swapped his bike for this cool whip instead.

    After waiting for a few hours, which we used to get a visa for Uzbekistan (we later found out we didn’t need one), it was time to get on the ship. We could stall the bikes on the parking deck and were appointed cabin number one. We had bunk beds, and a small window looking out the front deck. Or the air vent on the front deck at least. The bathroom smelled so funky, we stuck our noses in our toiletry bag just to get the stench out.

    Life on board

    Life on the boat was simple and slow. We used our time to relax, edit some photo’s, write the blog and hung out with fellow travelers. There was a meal served three times a day. That was all the food you could get. There was no shop that sold snacks or water, so we made sure we brought enough of those.

    On board we also quickly befriended Samir, who works on the ship. He told us about the Caspian Sea, life as an Azerbaijan sailor man and showed us around. He made sure we had everything we needed, thanks Samir!

    Desert ride

    Crossing the Caspian took us little over 33 hours, we went aboard around 2 pm on Wednesday and set foot on Kazakh shore at around 11 pm the following day. Country number three on this trip didn’t require a visa. This didn’t mean it was easy to enter Kazakhstan. After two passport checks and one baggage check on board, we got our stamp. In the port our bags and passports were checked yet another four or five times. 

    Tourists traveling the other direction were clearly annoyed by this futile border system, as the first thing they shouted to us was Don’t get too excited when you see a toilet in Kazakhstan! I guess they had been waiting there for quite a while, and the toilets were indeed locked. Welcome to Kazakhstan. Best country in the world.

    There is absolutely nothing at the port of Kuryk, and the city was 20 km further. We teamed up with the other cyclist and camped in the desert next to the parking lot. We would cycle to Kuryk the next day and continue to Aktau on the same day. We had a strong headwind for the first 20 km’s. But after Kuryk, where we could get some Kazakh money, water and food, we continued cycling 70 km in the desert. This time with a strong tailwind luckily.

    Feeling the heat

    The wind made it feel like we were flying, but the temperature kept rising and rising. Shade was hard to find, and our water had also gotten very warm. This made it very hard to cool off, and Sabina was really struggling with the heat for the last 10 km’s in the desert. When we finally found some shade, she drenched her shirt in water and stood in the wind giving her chills all over. It got even better when a father and his son pulled over to give us a watermelon, which we devoured immediately. A very, very warm welcome to a new country.

    The land of Borat

    Riding in to Aktau felt surreal. The wind took a turn, and blew straight in our face, making the last bit a real pain. We were surrounded by huge factories, and there were massive pipelines besides and over the road. It got even weirder when we came to our beach resort hostel. Apparently we had stumbled upon a holiday resort for locals and Russians. The beach was clean, there was entertainment and music and we went on a crazy fast water slide, which would definitely not pass European safety standards. 

    Aktau is exactly what we expected from Kazakhstan. It probably doesn’t do it real justice tough. To get even more in the mood, we watched Borat with Josh and George and they also shaved the Borat-moustache. Not a pretty sight, but neither was Aktau.

    Shipping it

    On the ship we had sorted some stuff out, that we wanted to send home. DHL was exorbitantly expensive and charged 255 US dollars. So we opted for the cheaper Kazpost instead, at 24 US dollars. Or did DHL just make a calculating error? At least we were 3,5 kg lighter. Let’s hope we can feel it climbing in the Pamir’s.

    All aboard

    From Aktau our journey to Uzbekistan would continue by train. We bought the tickets online and had to cycle to another village to the train station the next day. We wanted to be there early, since it can be a real hassle with the bikes. Thank god we did, because the time on our ticket wasn’t local time but one hour earlier, probably the time in the capital. So instead of arriving one hour before departure, we came just in time.

    The train was a whole experience on its own. We had two upper berths across from each other, above an elderly couple. They were lying on their bed or drinking tea with their friends, so we couldn’t really sit anywhere. The amount of stuff people brought on the train was astonishing. Entire kitchens including a six burner stove, tractor wheels, carpets, washing machines, it all went along.

    After a thousand stops

    There was a stop for about every fifteen minutes, even in the middle of the desert with nothing in sight. Staring out the window wasn’t really fun either, since there was only sand, dry bushes and a lot of garbage to see. This made us prime entertainment for the other passengers on the train. None spoke English, so it was a lot of guessing and gesturing. 

    Upon nightfall the train stopped and we could get out to stretch our legs. Not at a platform, but just by the tracks amongst other driving trains. Then all of a sudden we had to get back on, and the train drove on for a short bit to stop again. We couldn’t get off this time, but the train didn’t continued driving further until very early the next morning. We then had to get out of our beds and get our passports ready. The Kazakh teenage border police collected all the passports and after about thirty minutes we got them back with a fresh exit stamp.

    Next stop was the Uzbek border police, which were the friendliest we’ve encountered so far. They made some chit chat with us and the other cyclists and asked about our journey out of interest instead of duty. We had a few hours on the train left and about a million stops. Vendors boarded the train and walked the aisles at least forty times each. All goods didn’t smell that fresh, so we skipped out on the dried fish and shasliks. No thanks.

    Not for the fainthearted

    When we finally got off the train our group quickly fell apart. We wanted to get out of the town and start cycling. We could borrow a little money from Josh that he had exchanged on the train, and we continued cycling in the desert with him. We were stoked to be on our bikes and camping again. And away from the hassle of the train. Would we recommend doing it? Definitely, just not for the fainthearted. 

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  • One week in Azerbaijan

    One week in Azerbaijan

    Azerbaijan is a country we knew very little about. Is it Asia, Europe or maybe like the Middle East? We heard a little about Baku, a megapolis with a brand new grand prix race track. But what else to expect? The food, rich history and lovely people surprised us to say the least. We had only a week, and we took full advantage of the little time we had.

    We left Lagodechi (Georgia) exceptionally late, after a nice breakfast with our new friends. It was only a few kilometers for our very first border crossing by bicycle and we didn’t plan on cycling for very long after that.

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    Heat in Balakən

    After the Georgians wished us good luck, and a fairly quick border crossing the road was suddenly very smooth. Brand new tarmac, and as good as flat! We had definitely left the Georgian mountains behind us. One other thing that felt different was the temperature. Because we had left so late, we were cycling in the hottest time of the day. Not very advisable when in Azerbaijan, we must say.

    Longing for ice cream but no bank in sight we had to ride through it. The first big town with a bank was Balaken. Or Balakən as Azerbaijanis write it. The signs, the tea, the döner sandwich and the language made us feel like we had just entered Turkey. The drivers that passed made it very clear however in what country we were, since they were yelling ‘Welcome to Azerbaijan’ out of their car window.

    All about chores and food

    We said our goodbyes to Jonas, a German cyclist who we crossed the border with, in Zaqatala. Our destination for our first day. We had booked a hotel, so we could do some much needed laundry. And he preferred to camp instead. The amount of dirt that came off our clothes was impressive. We have the Sea to Summit Wilderness wash that cleans everything (including ourselves) very well. Their washing line has also come in handy many times already. It must have been very funny looking though, all our laundry hanging on the hotel balcony right on the main street.

    After our chores, we went on the hunt for some food. Seems like our life these days is becoming about food more and more. You just get very hungry when you cycle a lot. So we got really excited, when the ‘traditional’ pancakes we ordered, were the exact same ones we use to make at home. A bit overexcited maybe, for we stuffed our faces to the max. No worries however, we will cycle it off the upcoming days anyway.

    Try to leave early

    The heat makes cycling a lot harder. It’s a whole new challenge to deal with after the mountains. The road is flat, so it’s not like your legs get tired. It’s just your body temperature that gets higher, and it’s nearly impossible to cool off. There’s not always much shade, and your water gets warm as well. When we find a tap, we put water in our caps and let it run over our wrists to cool off.

    One way to beat the heat is to start cycling very early. We had plans to leave Zaqatala early, but breakfast wasn’t served until 8.30, we met two nice men from Austria riding their motorcycles from Vienna to Mongolia. We were impressed with their equipment and bikes, and laughed about their humbleness when they thought they were doing something badass until they heard our story. 

    They would ride to Baku that day, which would take us a week at least. Our destination was Sheki, quite a stretch, especially in the heat. The first part of the ride was beautiful. We cycled across small towns, with children giving us high fives and waving at us. The trees gave us some cover from the sun, and there were plenty of water stops. The last bit got harder when temperature rose and the roads became more hilly.

    Cool off

    When we noticed a swimming pool along the road we both squeezed our breaks and immediately thought the same thing. We were getting in there no matter what. Luckily the locals at the pool thought the same. We must’ve looked quite hot when we arrived because they insisted we got in straight away. There was only one young woman by the pool, and we think she was quite happy Sabina was there. Not being the only woman anymore, must’ve made it a bit more relaxed for here to go for a swim as well. 

    We all changed to our swimwear and dove in. The young men were fooling around, diving and playing tricks on each other. No one speaks English but their humor made it easy to have somewhat of a connection. After swimming they kept insisting we should join them for a barbecue and stay at their house. They were happy to have us sleep at their house too. Super friendly, but we felt like they had had a bit too much to drink to get in the car with them. It can also be a bit awkward if you are absolutely unable to communicate with each other. They didn’t speak a word English and our Azerbaijani isn’t much good either. So on the bicycles for the last few kilometers it was.

    The surprise called Sheki

    At this point the road was only going uphill and on the sides there were small shops, a whole lot of car repair shops and gas stations. Unfortunately the landscape wasn’t as interesting in this part of the country. Late in the afternoon is also when the cows go home. We have no idea how they tell the time and how they know the way, but it seems to work. It’s fun to see, but after passing a few hundred cows the last weeks it was also getting a bit dull by now.

    So our surprise was big when we reached the center of Sheki. Ugly shops made place for the beautiful old caravanserai. Cobble stones made the last steep climb a killer, that left Sabina on the ground, but it looked very lovely with the 200+ year old houses.

    We were the only guests at Polad’s mini hostel, which he has next to his guesthouse. We told Polad we didn’t know that much about Azerbaijan, and he was happy to answer all of our questions. Over dinner, where he told us about the national cuisine which we enjoyed very much, we talked about education, politics, travel and culture. We also learned that Azerbaijan has a rich history which makes it a unique country with a special culture. They thank this to their geographic position, connecting great empires to each other. It’s a very important hub on the Silk Road. In old days traders would have their camels rest, eat and drink at the caravanserais where they could also sell their goods.

    Qabala to Baku

    After a rest day in Seki, where we did some sightseeing and blog posting, we continued our journey towards the East. For the first time we actually manage to leave early. Which payed off, because we make it to the next town Qabala, 90 km from Seki. Qabala is a place where people from Baku spend their time in big fancy resorts. We managed to end up in the shittiest hostel by far.

    We have absolutely no idea why people would spend their free time in Qabala. It didn’t feel special to us at all. There was a super long main road with cars honking and shops that only sell sugary goods. The landscape after Seki wasn’t very interesting either and there was only a busy main road. It didn’t make it easier that the education level in this part of the country is very low. Pretty much no one speaks the tiniest bit english.

    Our heads were already in Baku by now, but it would still be at least three days to cycle there. We looked it up and a bus could Baku. We coughed up a few Manats (the local currency) and hopped on a bus with our bikes. Baku here we come.

    Cycling and junk food

    The bus driver dropped us of right outside the city at the bus station. Taxi drivers approached us when we exited the bus, but quickly lost interest when they noticed the bikes. We might have not cycled to Baku, but we were entering it on two wheels! Cycling in this hectic city gave us the same adrenaline rush we got in Tbilisi. The drivers usually give way, as long as you clearly hand signal what direction you are going. Here they aren’t used to cyclists either, so usually they liked seeing us and waved happily.

    After we had found the hostel and checked in, we had something very important to do. Something Robin has had his mind set on for a few day now. It was time for McDonalds. We kept it decent, and only ordered twice. Thirds came at KFC later that day. And this wasn’t the last time we would feast at a fast food restaurant during our time in Baku.

    Modern city with modern art

    Some say that Baku is a mix between Paris and Dubai. It is a modern, and at some sites extravagant city to say the least. Maserati’s and Lada’s are parked next to each other and all big luxury brands have a flag store in Baku. From Baku we will set sail to Kazakhstan, but strong winds meant that the cargo ship can’t enter the port. So we have a few days to pass time, and Baku is a perfect place to do so.

    On our first full day in the city, we woke up early and hungry. The streets were still quite empty, which was perfect for us. After a fancy pancake breakfast we explored the old part of the city. Also the most touristic part of town, for we were offered a guided day trip about 20 times in under 30 minutes. We rather strolled within the old city, surrounded by the old city walls, ourselves. The Palace of the Shirvanshahs doesn’t charge an entrance fee (except for the torture?! museum), so that’s good for travelers on a budget. We also rode our bikes across the big boardwalk, and cycled to the Museum of Modern art. A great museum with an exceptional collection. They have much work from local artists, but also from Picasso and Salvador Dali. We really enjoyed it.

    The Flame Towers

    After dinner at Vapiano, we cycled to the Flame Towers. We were promised a light show and we sure got what we asked for. From the view point you have an amazing view over the city, and when the Flame Towers finally lit up everyone was in awe. This was definitely one of the extravagant parts of the city we mentioned earlier. Heaps of fun to witness. Wished we had brought a selfie stick like everyone else.

    Citytrip in Baku

    The next day we teamed up with Aukje, who we met at the hostel. She’s traveling solo through Georgia, Armenia and Azerbaijan and was curious what we had planned. We were going to the Heydar Aliyev Center and always love good company, so she joined us for the day. 

    We took the metro, which was very cheap. There are only two lines, and a lot of stations, which were very aesthetically pleasing too. The Center was closed, but from what we understood it’s a concert and exhibition hall. Only seeing the architecture outside was probably enough, and we had a great laugh because the wind was so strong, we could barely stand up straight.

    Pro tip if you’re traveling and miss coffee? McDonalds! We sure love that Macky D. Free wifi and affordable good coffee. Never mind about that obesity epidemic, they are contributing to. Cycling and junk food seem to go hand in hand. But hey, they sell salads too.

    Shopping at the Bazar

    After a cup we head to the Teze bazar. A small bazar where they sell pretty much everything. Tools, lamps, signs, toilets, but also foods like fruit, meat (that smell, yuck) and a bunch of cheeses. Vendors jump on us since we are the only tourists, and let us taste all kinds of fruit. We buy some figs, which off course turn out to be rotten. We already thought those weren’t the ones we tasted! After watching a heated game of domino’s and drinking some tea with the men at the bazar we walk back to Nizami street.

    Walking in Baku is an experience by itself. The buildings are immense. A lot look empty and we don’t see anything in front of the windows or people going in and out. The buildings seem well kept, and asking someone didn’t give much info either. We’ll probably never know, it all might be a facade. Nevertheless, it’s an impressive city.

    Nizami street is one of the main shopping streets. It’s named after a poet, and he also has a metro station named after him. We were not here for poetry however, we were on a mission. Two weeks ago Robin thought it would be a good idea to throw away one of his pairs of boxer shorts. Three was too much he thought. Two would be enough. That would’ve all been fine, except he managed to lose one pair of boxer shorts on the exact same day. After two weeks with only one pair he finally had enough. So much to Sabina’s pleasing two brand new pairs of boxers were added to the collection. Off course the old one had to go. Two was enough after all.

    Oil rig beach

    Baku is a city that literally floats on oil. You can see this very clearly when you drive a short bit out of the city. Oil extractors are pumping up that what makes the country(’s government) so rich. The most bizarre site of our trip so far has to be Shikh beach. The oil rig lays just in front of it, and if you would want, you could just swim up to it. The water wasn’t too appealing to us, with garbage laying all over the beach and a film of oil on the water. But that didn’t stop local families from swimming here.

    The beach is about 10 km out of the city, but a Bolt car (kind of like Uber) can drive you there for 5 or 6 Manat. We hitchhiked back, which was also super easy and fun to do. From the carpet museum, yes there’s a carpet museum in Baku which is also shaped like a carpet, we walked to Black Star Burger downtown. A fast food restaurant recommended to us by Polad, who we met in Seki. Black Star burger is owned by a Russian rapper, who not only owns a fast food chain. He also owns his own shisha lounge chain, record label, clothing brand and a bunch of other huge companies. Best part about Black Star Burger? The black rubber gloves you get with your meal. Worst part about Black Star Burger? The rapper is besties with President Putin. He even wrote him a birthday song, named My best friend is President Putin.

    Next up: Kazakhstan

    After a few hours of rest it was time for our last night in Baku. We met up with Aukje and had our last dinner at…. McDonalds! We are now all ready and fattened up for some cycling. Just a boat trip away, next up: Kazakhstan.

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