Farawayistan

Category: Bikepacking

  • 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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  • Georgia part II

    Georgia part II

    The higher we go in to the mountains, the more beautiful nature seems to get. It’s hard work, but definitely worth all our trouble. Not only nature, the day to day life is also different when you’re high up. It’s hard living, because you have to manage with what you’ve got. And a ride to the grocery store is a real undertaking, which requires a 4×4 and a 4 hour ride. Most products are produced by the family’s own animals, and absolutely nothing goes to waste. We love it.

    After a few hard days on the bicycle, we took two much needed days off. One for resting, laundry, maintenance, writing and editing and the other for a big hike. There is so much stuff to do around bicycle touring. Of course everything gets really dirty, and at times it can be hard to clean properly. Bolts on the bikes had come loose from trembling on bad roads. The maintenance and all the chores make it almost like a full time job.

    Hiking to the Abudelauri lakes

    At night we prepared to leave early the next day, and packed our backpacks for a hike to the Abudelauri lakes. The lakes are situated in far north of the eastern part of Caucasus Mountains at an altitude of 2812m at the foot of the Chaukhi Massif. Many hikers pass only two lakes (the blue and the green) on the trek from Juta to Roshka. We decided we wanted to camp at the last white lake.

    The white lake is at the foot of a glacier, and since it’s so hard to get there we were the only ones. The only company we had was an eagle that kept calling from the surrounding peaks. Being so far away from the habited world, almost felt a bit eery. We knew there were wolves and bears in this area and we could hear stones crashing down from the glacier.

    Stargazing

    A bunch of stones falling down in the middle of the night scared the heck out of us. Robin looked out the tent, and shouted out ‘WOW, look at this!’. All clouds had disappeared and the sky was clearer than ever. We could even see the Milky Way. It was beautiful, but also very cold. So Sabina only stuck her head out of the tent, to stare up to the sky. Robin tried to take some pictures of the night sky, but it was very difficult with focussing and lacking a tripod. 

    We woke up early the next morning to hike back to the guesthouse in Roshka. A car (which turned out not being the 4×4 we expected!) would drive us and the bicycles to Telavi. It was the same road back and we were not feeling it, having to do that again. The hike and the previous days on the bikes had exhausted us. We were in much need of some pampering.

    Meeting Spokeandworld in Telavi

    Towards Telavi the landscape changed rapidly. The Caucasus made room for lush green vineyards and fruit plantations. Watermelons and peaches were sold by the road, and Sabina was happy to see that these roads were also becoming flatter.

    In Telavi we met up with Kat and Lewis from Spokeandworld. They started their journey in Thailand in February, and cycle to Lewis’ relatives in Ibiza. We had been following them for a while and it was really nice to hang out and bombard them with all of our questions. They gave us a bunch of tips, like the iOverlander app, for finding camp sites and invited us to a WhatsApp group with people cycling the Silk road. Super useful!

    Meeting with Kat and Lewis also cleared the air between the two of us. Over the last couple of days, being so exhausted and impressed by everything, things had been a little tense at times. Sabina was more quiet than usually, which worried Robin. Meeting friends and having such a lovely time was just what we needed. We can’t thank Kat and Lewis enough.

    Georgian wines in Kakheti

    Telavi is situated in Kakheti, Georgia’s premier wine region. Georgian wine is known for its gorgeous amber color. In Kakheti you can enjoy wine tastings for a very fair price at hundreds of vineyards. We payed a visit to the Shumi winery, and tasted three amazing wines made from Georgian grapes. But drinking wine and cycling don’t go well together. Those glasses made the last kilometers a giant struggle.

    We were absolutely beat, once again. It was over 40 degrees celsius, and we were on a main road. Finding a camp spot would be impossible, and there were only sketchy road side hotels. We decided to cycle in to a side street away from the main road. It was only going uphill, and it didn’t look like there was going to be a suitable patch of grass to pitch our tent.

    Part of the family

    All sweaty and looking like a hot mess, Sabina decided it was time to ask for help. She walked up a porch where she could hear people talking. It was an entire family, pealing a big pile of hazelnuts. They immediately invited us in and offered us to stay for dinner and spend the night before they even knew our names. Ekka, the daughter in the family and her boyfriend spoke English and translated everything. They told us about her family, their business and their home. It was the weekend, so her brother who works near Tbilisi and his friend were also home. 

    We felt very much at home in their warm and loving family. They fired up the barbecue and grilled big shaslicks, served their family wine and treated us to a traditional feast. It is truly unbelievable how hospitable and welcoming the Georgians are. It gave us so much energy.

    Praise and croissants

    Kat and Lewis told us they really liked Sighnagi, and looking at pictures we were also looking forward to the little town on top of a hill (it’s still Georgia, so mountains). It had brutal sections with climbs from 10-14%. But those made the view at the top extra rewarding. A lovely Belgian couple we met at the viewing point, made it even better by praising us and feeding us the best little cinnamon croissants ever.

    Not a day goes by, without people telling us we are doing something amazing. This is extremely motivating every single time. Telling someone they are strong and admirable, gives an enormous boost. We should tell it to each other all the time, if you ask me.

    Smooth hairpin turns and a stunning view

    Sighnaghi was a beautiful little town, with cobble stones and old buildings. We can see why it attracts a lot of people. For us however, it was the descend on the other side of the mountain that made our day. Not having to paddle for a few kilometers, gorgeous smooth hairpin turns and a stunning view. Simply amazing.

    Bring your water bottle

    Our destination today was Lagodekhi national park. We spotted a camp site on the iOverlander map near a hiking trail to a water fall. The camp site was by the ranger station at the start of the hike. When we finally arrived after a long sneaky climb, it was like we had cycled onto the ground of a music festival. There were loads of people barbecuing, making music and drinking and shouting. The place was littered, and there was a big group of stray dogs, waiting for slim pickings.

    At night, when most people had left, the dogs where howling and fighting. A group of young people was still playing loud music. To make matters worse it started raining like crazy, having us run to the bikes to properly close the bags.

    Not really knowing what to expect after last nights mayhem, we decided to chance it and go on the hike anyway. We are very happy we did, because it was truly a gem. The river made the temperature much more comfortable and the green forrest provided some welcoming shade. The trail was challenging, but very well marked which made it easy to follow. We had forgotten our water bottle at the beginning of the trail, which caused a short moment of stress. But we decided to drink straight from the stream, just not too much. 

    Waterfalls and friends

    It wasn’t for too long when a Dutch couple, Daan and Evelien (who had also run out of water, wasn’t just us!), caught up on us, with a cute dog that had been following them the whole trail. We walked together and shared travel stories. It’s a shame we never got to meet up after the hike, but they were traveling in the opposite direction as us. We exchanged numbers and shared some tips from time to time.

    After a short climb we had reached the destination of the hike, a 14 meter high waterfall. Stoked we had finally reached it, we changed into our swimwear and jumped into the ice cold water. After a while we were joined by Dachi and Matthijs. Dachi is from Tbilisi and his boyfriend Matthijs from The Netherlands. They immediately invited us for dinner and to spend the night at Dachi’s family’s vacation house in Lagodekhi.

    Soviet museum

    It was only 10 kilometers from our camping spot, so after the hike we packed up our tent and cycled to the house. Along the way we were joined by Jonas. A 20 year old cyclist from Germany. He joined us and Dachi and Matthijs were so generous, they also let him stay the night.

    Dachi was very humble about the house, and warned us it wasn’t very comfortable. For us it was an amazing experience, for it was like we walked into a museum of the Soviet era. He had his grandmothers Soviet passport and old family portraits on the walls. He appointed us a huge bed, and there was a warm shower and electricity so what more could we ask for.

    Our last night in Georgia

    After washing up, we went to a bizarre Soviet-like restaurant with local traditional food. Dachi also showed us how to properly eat khinkali (Georgian dumplings). On our final day in Georgia, it was about time we learnt! Apparently you have to turn the dumpling upside down, whilst holding it on the top. Then you bite a small hole in it. From this hole, you drink the broth. Now you can eat the rest of the dumpling, except for the top part. This is only dough and not meant to be eaten. 

    We also learned some sign language, since Matthijs is deaf. This however never stopped him from leading an amazing life. He has traveled to an astonishing number of countries, 54 to be exact. Dachi translated everything, which was also remarkable, since he had only started to learn sign six months ago. But maybe the best part of staying with Dachi and Matthijs, was seeing how much in love they are. This sparked a renewed appreciation in us for our relationship, for how special our it is and how lucky we are that we can share this together.

    It was our last night in Georgia, and a perfect one we will cherish and remember. Georgia’s majestic nature might have tried to break us, but the people we met glued up all the cracks and left us stronger than ever. We are ready for the next country, Azerbaijan here we come.

    You can find all our pictures of Georgia in the gallery.

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  • Georgia part I

    Georgia part I

    Gamarjorbat! It’s been only a week, but we are both exhausted. At this moment we are regaining some much needed energy in a wonderful guesthouse in Roshka in the Georgian mountains near the Chechen and Dagestan border. Clouds fall like waterfalls over the surroundings peaks. But before we show you the beauty of this far away village, let us tell you how we got here.

    Months of preparing all came together in one hectic, emotional day. It was time to say goodbye to our family. The bikes and bags were packed in three enormous boxes, transportation was arranged, now all we needed to do was get our asses on that plane. The airline luckily waved the fee for our overweight box, and even though we had a short transfer everything went extremely smoothly. 

    A Caucasus adventure

    After some hours of sleep in our hostel, we assembled the bikes and went on the hunt for some food. Bicycles are a rarity in Tbilisi, so we were spotted by a Swiss biketouring couple right away. They started their journey at home, and are also heading for Kyrgyzstan. We however, plan on a caucasus adventure before crossing borders to Azerbaijan.

    On Bikepacking.com Robin found a route that would take us trough the great Caucasus. An undiscovered part of Georgia with small villages highly tucked away. We had no idea if it would be doable with our touring bike set up, weighing up to 40 kg each. But hey, if you don’t try, you’ll never know.

    Cycling in Tbilisi

    After some inquiries at a local mountainbike shop, which was also up a very gnarly hill, we decided to see how far we could get. But not before spending a couple of days in the city, falling in love with all the cute Tbilisi cats. Enjoying the luxury that is called ice coffee, and nourishing ourselves with healthy meals at Georgian restaurants.

    Cycling in the city is a real adrenaline rush. Cars race by, honking to present their awareness. Even the one cycle path we encountered wasn’t safe, since pedestrians are not used to bicycles they walk on them, texting on their phones and lighting their cigarettes. Even strollers with babies are parked on the cycle path. Ringing your bell has absolutely zero effect. Much to our humor as we closely pass by texting pedestrians on the bike lane, after ringing our bells numerously with no respond or sign that we are noted.

    The mountains are calling

    We quickly got fed up with the smog in the city and the mountains were calling upon us. It was time to gather all of our belongings, and click our bags on our steel frames. From here on it’s cycling time. First stop, the lake by Chinti.

    When we finally exit the highway for a somewhat quieter main road, realization of how heavy our bikes are kick in. Our first climb, still on asphalt, leaves us pondering if this was a bad idea. Robin takes some weight off Sabina’s bike and we climb further in the staggering heat. Let’s stick to the plan, see how far we can get. One step at a time. There’s no way we’ll make it to Chinti today, but that’s fine. No reason to beat ourselves up.

    The fun part started when we left the asphalt and the road suddenly stopped being a road. We were still on the right track, but the grass was getting higher, and so were the torn bushes. Let’s see what these Schwalbes can have, and pray for them to make it without punctures on our first day.

    Downhill we hit the last bit of main road, and from there on it was a dirt road in no man’s land. With only abandoned factories and some tiny villages miles from the road in sight. Under a big oak tree we decided to cook ourselves up some lunch. A passing car stopped to tell us there was a river just down the road where we could swim. We decided to check it our and found our very first wild camp spot. A shepherd had his cows grazing by the river, but a few hundred meters further we could pitch our tent. We bathed in the river, and rinsed our clothes. Tired from all the impressions, we quickly fell asleep.

    Off the main roads

    The next morning it looked like there had been an explosion in our tent. Not used to such a confined space, we just threw our stuff everywhere. This needed to change because all was lost and nothing to be found. Getting ready to leave took us a staggering hour and a half.

    Since all worked out well with our camp spot last night, we cycle onwards with full spirit. We were ready for leg two. The road passes small villages with cattle and we were often frowned upon. What are these two idiots on bicycles doing. Do they even know where they are heading? We must have earned respect nevertheless, because we were treated to loads of fruit, veggies, cola and bags of potato chips. A stop at a gas station to fill our fuel bottle we use for cooking, left the attendant in full surprise. Even more surprised were we, when we were passed by a road cyclist with a Specialized gravel racer, fully dressed in Rapha apparel. He waved at us happily, but unfortunately didn’t stop to have his picture taken.

    When we started to approach the lake by Chinti, we had high hopes that a beautiful camp spot would present itself just as it did yesterday. The road however was only going up, and the lake was way further down. The climbs were getting steeper and we were pushing ourselves to our limits, having to catch our breath every five minutes.

    Thankfully a truck driver noticed that we were struggling, and knowing the road we were about to face, he stopped and offered us a ride. He slung the bikes on top of the load on his truck, and we hopped in with all of our bags. The view over the lake was breathtaking. And without saying a word he dropped us off about 4 km further down the road, after the hardest part had passed. The lake was now behind us, and had turned into a river. We saw an adventure camp, just over the bridge with small vacation houses. But more important to us, a patch of flat grass. A perfect place to pitch our tent. We could take a shower (that was more of a drizzle to be honest), and bought a cold beer to share.

    Climbing and climbing

    The next town on our itinerary was Roshka’s guesthouse. With climbs up to 20% we knew this was going to be a challenge. By now we knew it wasn’t going to be possible to get over the Atsunta Pass (3.470 m with 40% elevation), so we decided to at least make it to Roshka and from there on adjust our route. Just when we wanted to leave last nights camp, Robin noticed a tired looking bike packer. It was Justin Bill, and he had done the route we had been planning on in the last couple of days, but in the opposite direction. (Which is supposed to be better if you’re also planning on it.) It was tough, and he looked like he had some rough couple of days behind him. He told us, there was not a chance in the world we would make it with our bikes. There were some tricky river crossings, one where he needed to wait for other people to help him pass with the help of a rope. Deep respect for Justin, and the pictures he took look amazing.

    Roshka or Korsha?

    Our route continued over roads that only got worse, with some very hard parts where we had to push our bikes up. Loose rocks, made us lose grip of the road. Shops were also getting scarcer, so when we finally found one we stocked up for dinner. When we planned todays route we noticed something weird. Google maps and Komoot gave a different location for Roshka. One was noticeably further and higher, and we weren’t sure which to take. Turned out the first town was actually Korsha, but by now we had cycled for almost 45 km and climbed nearly 700 m on difficult push-a-bikes. Add scorching temperatures and a luring camp spot by a river near some houses. We were done for another day.

    The spot was amazing. We were out of sight from the road, had plenty of room to stall our bicycles and hang our laundry. And when we went on the hunt for some tap water, we were invited to a lovely Georgian meal. We enjoyed khinkali (spicy dumplings), khachapuri (cheese pie) and some mtsvadi (barbecue roasted meat). Toasting with vodka was also part of the deal. Our hosts were celebrating a local holiday, where they honor their ancestors. It takes place for a week, and every day the holiday moves to the next village up the hill. We toasted to family, passed away but also fiercely alive. To the children and to the beautiful country. After five or six vodkas we kindly excused ourselves. We had a very steep climb ahead of us the next day. 

    Bike touring life

    By now, we were starting to get the hang of this touring life. Packing up, making breakfast, route planning. It was all going a lot faster. After a false start, some bolts on Sabina’s bike had loosened from the bumpy ride, we were off too our last leg to Roshka. The road continued to worsen, and road workers laughed out loud when we cycled by. They offered us a lift when they passed us in their truck, but we declined. We are here to cycle after all. 

    Our Wahoo showed us, we had to take a sharp turn to get off the main road and make our way up a very steep hill. We pushed our bikes, but it was nearly impossible. They were simply too heavy. A car passed by, and fortunately the driver agreed to take our bags up the hill to Roshka’s guesthouse. Lifting 40 kg’s of our bikes. Now we only had water, our camera’s and some snacks to carry. But if you think this meant we could cycle up, think again. The road was too steep, and in too bad of shape. Temperature was rising, and the previous days were still in our legs. Sabina got so frustrated, and Robin tried his best to motivate her but he was struggling too. Mountains can break you, and that’s exactly what happened.

    Cry and laugh, and cry some more

    Tired and mad that it was so hard, Sabina burst in to tears. With only 2 km to go, and about 200 m to climb, she cried and laughed about it and then cried again. We picked ourselves up, and the reward felt great when we finally set eyes on the small village. It felt like we had reached heaven high in the clouds. We had finally reached the hardest part. Now it’s time to rest.

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