Osh to China - Thursday 20th September to Wednesday 26th September

Mike continues to make an amazing recovery and has ridden for two days in a row. I also did my longest ride ever 180 K about 115 miles on 21st September. It was a great ride and I felt really really good. We did very little in Osh except look for food which gets very hard when no-one speaks English and the menus are all in Cyrillic. We just looked at other tables and pointed with great success.

I must say we ate very well though often it passes through our systems very quickly. This becomes a major topic of conversation in the morning, how did you sleep and how are your bowels. I had to tell someone the other day it took years of marriage before Mike and I got that familiar with each other. The other major preoccupation with rest days is laundry and today it took all day to find a dry cleaner to do it for us and then taking others back to drop theirs off then collecting it in the afternoon. Luckily it was in the middle of a great market so it was a fun walk and the people had the best hats so far this trip.We had also been welcomed the night before by the local mayor who arranged for a number of people to entertain us with wonderful horns and stringed instruments and some really good singers.

The next stage was going to be very hard with 6 riding days, only desert camps, a potential -5 degrees at night but with the lure of China at the end. It was to prove the hardest stage for us both but for very different reasons. The first day was fine and camp was by a freezing river which still allowed you to wash though I took a stand against washing my hair.The second day we rode to Saray Tash. We had been warned the roads would be bad so I decided to ride after lunch which was a bad idea. We were now at quite high altitude about 2400 meters and our next camp was at 3300 after a pass at 3600 meters. The pass was in the afternoon the bit I decided to ride, I though how bad could it be. It was so bad it was hysterical. I struggled along 10K about 15K per hour, I usually average 25K and this was on the flat but still managed to pass a few people. Then the climb started and the road turned to thick dust over broken up rocks. I struggled up a few kilometres and then decided to walk a bit. I though I’ll just turn the corner and see what is ahead then start again. Ahead was one of the most ridiculous climbs I have ever seen and all on this thick dust which my poor tires sunk into causing me to constantly take my feet out of my clips to stop falling over. I just thought I don’t need this so I stopped by the side of the road to wait. A few minutes later about five other riders walked around the corner and we all laughed and laughed about how ridiculous the whole day had been. The truck was along within minutes and we all stood there with both thumbs down laughing hysterically.The climb in the truck was amazing with the most breathtaking views but there was no way we could have walked up it let along rode. We arrived in camp and I looked around to see the best spot with the most sun. The tent went up in minutes but the fly took a bit longer as the wind had come up quite a bit so it kept flying away. We then looked up to the pass and noticed the storm clouds which turned out not to be rain but heavy snow, most of the riders were still out there.

Over the next few hours people started to arrive in various states of repair. Many with grins on their faces and mountain bikes who said this was one of the best days of the whole trip but latterly with near hypothermia as they had been caught at the top in the storm. Mike came in frozen to the bone so we got him changed and wrapped in thick blankets inside the yurt we had hired. I cuddled up to him and rubbed his body until an hour or so later when his body warmed up. By which time the snow was falling in camp and most people had taken up the option of sleeping in the yurt or the house. Mike and I took some blankets into our tent and thought we would be OK. It took me 5 seconds to realise that two inches of snow on the tent was a bad idea, two people in a small tent was a bad idea and even with all our blankets sleeping in -5 was a bad idea. I moved inside and left Mike and extra blanket.

This proved to be a very good idea as Mike was as sick as he had ever been during the night at one point crawling on his stomach still with his sore knees to stick his head out under the fly to throw up, right next to the area where a dog had pissed on our tent. I had had a bad night and when I went to help Mike pack up I had never seen him in such a state. He stated categorically he had had enough and we were going home.It was freezing, I had already decided not to ride as the roads were worse than before and Mike was in no state to ride. We told Robert we would join him on his escape plan to Kashgar in China but had to get through one more desert camp before then. It was another miserable truck day but this time spent freezing wrapped in sleeping bags bumping along appalling roads. Apparently the Chinese government were paying to repair the road their trucks had broken up but the three year project was already into its second year and there was no way they were even a quarter done and not a centimetre of asphalt had been lain.

The camp that night was spectacular surrounded by hills covered in snow. Somehow they had found some wood and we had a roaring fire but still a freezing cold night. Mike was still talking of flying home from Kashgar but I decided to ignore him until he recovered but I have never seen him so low.The Chinese border went off without a hitch despite major worries about bike permits and general administrative issues. We had had reports that tandems were not allowed as it was illegal for two people to be on one bike, so we hid Doug and Gala’s on the roof of the truck and they rode our bikes through the border. The band of escapees to Kashgar had grown to 7 with interest from another ten, and we split into two groups one of whom got a local taxi for 100 Yuan each while we were screwed by our local representative who arranged a private taxi for 700 Yuan each!

We arrived in the Blue Sky Seafood Hotel and Restaurant extremely relieved but concerned that not one of the staff spoke any English. Tiffany came to the rescue and we checked into our rooms with the second most uncomfortable beds so far, it was like sleeping on a table top. We didn’t really care there was water, hot water at that, flushing loos and warmth. It took a long time for us both to leave the bathroom. The food in the hotel was good though more see food than sea food with two walls covered with pictures you just pointed to, there was also tanks of fish and lobsters though to add to your options. However as Kashgar must be one of the towns furthest away from the sea I wasn't sure fish was a good bet.

The next morning we were woken early by Robin to say we had to leave; there was no water in the hotel for four days so they had found us another hotel. Turned out to be a much better hotel with the best restaurant in town, John's Cafe on site, internet, travel agents, plus half a dozen or so independent cyclists and travellers all trying to outdo each other with their tales, not sure ours won. Mike was considerable healthier after his tummy troubles cleared up and several long showers but his knee was a worry as it had swollen up to twice its normal size. It was also bleeding and he had made a mess of the sheets overnight. It was more than a little embarrassing when we were checking out of the first hotel when they stopped us to show us and the rest of the lobby the blood stained sheets. Most people thought it was my blood until we pointed to Mike’s knees. They charged us extra for cleaning.We tried to clean his scabs as best we could but ended up at a chemist who whipped iodine, gauze, bandages and amoxicillin off the shelves to treat him. No prescription for the antibiotic. We showed them to various members of the group and had numerous suggestions from salt baths to doing nothing. When Elaine arrived today she said there was an infection but the Amoxicillin should clear that up and we should just keep it clean. He is in no pain and thinks he can still ride but we have two days to see if it clears up.

Kashgar is such a contrast to the Stans. So many people for a start and so loud. I am listening to loud exhortations and music from afar as we speak and they have been going on since early this morning. We are on Beijing time with is 7 hours head of the UK, which means talking to the kids during the day is next to impossible but also there is a conflict with local Kashgar time where people want to start their day when the sun comes up 2 hours earlier than Beijing. There is everything you need here with hundreds of clothes shops which we are all scouring as most have not brought enough warm clothes. We found a clothes/camping store and a fantastic bike shop with all the top parts brands. In contrast there is the China we expected: tens of dozens of children erupting on the streets for lunch, food courts full of noise as people get their lunch cooked fresh in front of them, unmentionable animal parts available to eat, a man making fresh noodles by thrashing them by hand onto a well worn chopping board. There are also working ATM machines so we don’t have to get our money from a man on the corner working out of his car any more.

Some of the group arrived a day early some cycling in the last 60K rather than camp on a dry river bed and we are too together tonight for a party to say goodbye to some and welcome others. It had been a really tough period for both of us.

It all comes crashing down – Saturday 15th September – Wednesday 19th September

The optimism of the last blog was short-lived.We left Samarkand with a short police convoy and cycled a relatively short distance to an abandoned restaurant. Mike as usual beat me to the camp site but had some interesting tales to tell. Just as they arrived the locals had hung up a sheep onto two poles, cut its throat and after a short time allowing the blood to drip out broke it down to its constituent parts right next to us. Everything was minced or diced and then cooked in the restaurant that evening.

Also seconds before I arrived, Thor one of the African Routes crew was cleaning a knife, it slipped and when partly through his hand. He was driven to hospital 30 km away, stitched up and returned a few hours later. He was extremely lucky, not only to have a good hospital nearby but he missed major damage by millimetres and should have the stitches out within a week. It was a short ride the next day followed by a border crossing the day after that and I looked forward to cycling all day then cycling through my first ever border (I had missed the previous ones looking after the kids or being ill).

I was cycling with Lorry and glanced back to see Mike coming up behind me with Chuck. All smiles I knew he would do his usual and slap me on my bum as he powered past. I looked back again to grin at him and the next thing I know we are both spinning on the ground a tangle of bodies and bikes ending up on top of each other. All I could hear was the truly awful sound of Mike groaning in pain. We were surrounded by half a dozen or more riders two of whom, Chuck and Robert had broken or damaged everything possible on their bikes so they took over, telling Mike to stay still while they assessed the damage. It looked awful. At first glance I though his legs were broken, then I saw his shoulder which was either broken or the collar bone was. When we realised his legs were OK he managed to stand but felt really dizzy. We got him to a nearby bus stand were we waiting with Rachel the assistant nurse until Elaine the nurse arrived with transport. His helmet was smashed through and without it he would have been dead. He had scrapes on his thighs, knees and elbows and huge bruises on his back and shoulders. We didn’t know if anything was broken.

Everyone was great and Chuck was kind enough to assess Mike's bike saying it was Ok but he could borrow his if he wanted to ride again that day. Even Mike had to admit his days as a EFI (Every Fucking Inch) rider were over and he was off to hospital.We ended up visiting the same hospital as Thor and it was a surreal experience. Mike was in a great deal of pain and stiffening up by the minute. After a one hour drive we drove up to the entrance and were greeted by a horde of people in chef’s hats and a gurney. They practically dragged Mike out of the car despite his cries of pain and took him straight into X ray while pushing us into the hallway. One minute later they rushed out of X ray into a room which they shut and forced me to stay outside. Every now and again when someone went in or out I saw him, at one point rolling about in agony, it was awful not knowing what was happening. At last someone indicated that nothing was broken and I started to cry with relief. Within 10 minutes they moved him out of the room and down the corridor. I followed to see where they were taking him next: it was outside, into the car and a wave goodbye! We were there for a scant 15 minutes. At no point had anyone even taken his name, let alone a medical history, kept any records and no-one seemed to want any payment. They injected something into his bum, poured a blue alcohol based product on his scrapes (the worse pain he has ever felt) put on bandages and sent him home. The X rays were done by a fluoroscope which fires x-rays straight through you and onto a Cathode ray tube/TV like device so they can see your bones in real time.

I did feel obliged to take some pictures as I was sure Mike would like to see them afterwards.We arrived in camp after a 2 hour journey and everyone was really really wonderful and we are so grateful to them all. Chuck had kept us a space for our tent near the truck and Ken and him set it up, Elaine set up her spare tent next to it so Mike would have more space alone. Dave and Lorry moved a large metal bed from one side of camp to another so he could lie out on it, Duncan lent us a mosquito net and everyone was concerned about how he was doing. Mike sat in a chair in agony, waiting for the drugs to wear off and wondering how on earth he was going to get up to pee let alone sleep that night. He could barely move a centimetre so he slept on the metal bed covered with cushions and a mosquito net. Dave was wonderful and rigged up two stools and dug a deep hole to allow him to go to the loo after supper, it all comes down to the basics.

We called the kids and told them the EFI journey was over, 22,000km since it started in Africa, I don't think they cared they were just glad Mike was OK. I got away with a scratch on my elbow and a bruise on my bum and a bit of ribbing about the cause of the accident! Mike was determined to ride the next day but he could barely move, every step was agony so there was no way.

I rode the truck with him the whole day through the border from Uzbekistan to Tajikistan. He hated being on the truck. We talked to the border staff and explained he couldn’t move so he sat on the truck and they came to him to check his passport.

We had a few hours in Tajikistan, enough to go to the local market which was great fun, onions piled high, dozens of loaves of flat bread each family marking the centre differently, the women sporting the latest fashion a thick black line across both eyebrows joining in the middle, not one that will catch on anytime in Edinburgh. The walking was good for Mike and the agonising pain he had felt from his bum down his leg had lessened as the swelling went down. There was no way he could ride the next day and rather than suffer with him (he makes it clear how much he hates being ill) I decided to ride the first half of the day which included the border between Tajikistan and Uzbekistan, the first border I cycled through.

The ride was great but the border crossing was as bad as the last time with the trucks taking hours and hours to get through and Mike waiting with them. It was a long ride after the border and the majority of people took taxis to the hotel rather than ride until late in the evening.Two days on the truck was enough so Mike cycled the next day though the third border in as many days from Uzbekistan to Kyrgyzstan. He had made an amazing recovery and was so dammed lucky we were not on the plane home. He was really disappointed but there was nothing to be done about a split second mishap.

September 3rd – 14th Ashgabat, Turkmenistan to Samarkand, Uzbekistan

We left Ashgabat with a short police convoy and best of all a tail wind which blew us all 120 km into camp about 30 km an hour with huge grins on our faces, a great day cycling. We camped at an architectural site and some spent the evening digging for artifacts where they pitched their tents. The only other good thing to say about desert camps is the stars which have always been beautiful. The rest is desperately seeking shade, sometimes under the truck, counting the hours until supper time and at least being able to dig a hole when you need the loo.

We camp next to the road more often than not so have articulated lorries roaring past us all night, not too restful.After 3 days cycling through mindless desert with barely even a camel to keep us interested we arrived in Mary and visited Merv which is a must see for Silk Road travelers and any visitor to Turkmenistan. Not much remains nor has much been excavated but it is an historical marvel. Over the centuries 4 cities have been built and subsequently destroyed. What makes this place unique is that rather than build on the old foundations because the river had slightly moved direction they build on a new site, so you now have a unique historical resource waiting to be tapped.

Mary was a contrast to Ashgabat as it felt more real, everyone was really friendly coming up to say hello and welcome. We had a really good lunch at the local market where we saw samosa being cooked on the side of a large pot oven. The cook wet one side then slapped it onto the inside of the pot where it stuck to the inside for a few minutes until done, wonderful fresh out of the oven.One day out of Mary the bug caught up with me and a couldn’t cycle. Not much fun riding on a bouncy truck trying not to be sick and keeping your legs crossed. The hotel we were booked into was an old soviet block with revolting bathrooms but even worse there were four people to each room and each bathroom. Thank goodness for the hotel next door this had private bathrooms but a mattress from hell: we both left with spring imprints all over our body.

The next day we the trip to the border and I took some pills to get me through, thank god I did. We left the hotel at 6.30 am and didn’t get through the border until 3.00 pm. It was Sunday and someone at the Turkmenistan border wanted to see a photocopy of a document and said come back tomorrow. It took our guide returning to Turkmenbat waking someone up, taking them to a police station and copying a document before they let us through the barrier. That was only the first of many hurdles but we got through eventually and were all glad to leave Turkmenistan.

Bukhara was wonderful and our hotel was right in the old town walking distance to all the restaurants, sights and shops. What was so odd was the contrast between the last two counties and this one. We were feted in Azerbaijan as honored visitors as tourists were still unusual ; we were regarded with suspicion in Turkmenistan guarded all the time and not allowed to go anywhere by ourselves. Bukhara was packed with European tourists visiting the sights, all the shop keepers spoke several languages and people rode bikes! We walked around the sights, including some beautiful mosques, a madrassah, and the remains of a fortress. We caught up with two little girls on their way home from school; they looked so beautiful in their dresses and white ribbons in their hair. It was a lovely relaxed city and I think everyone enjoyed their stay.It took two days to cycle to Samarkand and two rest days, a novelty we were all looking forward to. Our hotel is a converted disco with gold staircases and mirrors but huge rooms which have allowed us to unpack completely and get organized. Two people are leaving so we have bought their inner tubes and inflatable mattresses but now have to find space for them.

The Registran of Samarkand is so beautiful we both loved it. Three maddrassah’s form three sides of a square and they have been wonderfully restored. The dome of the Tillya Kari Madrassh was so beautiful it was hard to tear yourself away. The night before Sultan Ali, a local celebrity had been in concert in the square, truly one of the greatest backdrops, pity about the music though which was awful. The student cells have been converted into shops where you are constantly invited inside to see goods “cheaper than free”. I was tempted by the wonderful fabrics and ceramics but had a good excuse of not being able to carry anything on a bike. Mike worked on the computer while I visited a carpet factory where I couldn’t resisit temptation and bought a carpet, which we will get shipped home.It’s been such fun these last few days we now have 5 days riding, a rest day in Osh then 6 days cycling then I think we are in China. Lots to look forward to including a very high pass to climb.

Crossing Caspian Sea and overland to Asgabat Turkmenistan Aug27-Sept 1st

Our boat trip across the Caspian could have been fraught with difficulties. All the books had said there was no timetable, the boat just left when it was full. Our instructions were to meet at the ferry at 11.45 am with food and water for the next 16 hours, there were cabins but they were said to be really smelly and unpleasant, I bought some room spray just in case.

Everything though went really smoothly. The boat was huge; we later discovered there were about 20 train carriages on board along with various cars and our trucks. We each got a cabin which not only didn’t smell but had a full shower-room on suite. There was also a full kitchen and a cook who make supper for some and eggs for all for breakfast the next day. For someone who hates boats and imagined spending the whole 16 hours on deck being sick the crossing was a real joy, dead calm the whole way with beautiful stars and twinkling oil platforms on the horizon. An added bonus was not arriving at 2.00 am to disembark as promised but 7.30 am.

We arrived in Turkenbashy, Turkmenistan at 7.30 am on Tuesday 28th August but didn’t officially enter the country until 3.00 pm when all the formalities had been completed. A lot of waiting around, Mike warned me to get used to it. Henry’s original plan was to cycle for 15 km out of the town to the desert and then camp but as we had no food we stayed at a hotel instead. Not the 5 star our local tour guide wanted to force us into but an unspeakable Soviet style dump. You can’t begin to imagine how awful the bathrooms were, bare concrete floor, brown water from the taps and cockroaches (very distracting when you are perched over the loo). The only mitigating features were the sheets were clean and the air con worked. We met some local boys who showed us to the local restaurant and had a great meal of kebabs and manty (ravioli/meat dumplings), it was then two episodes of the Sopranos and dreams of one star hotels.

We rode the next day into the desert up the only promised hills on the road through Turkmenistan. The lovely springs of Turkey were gone but there was the occasional leaking irrigation junction where you could get cool if you ignored the muck on the ground, you’d be amazed what you can put up with to cool down for a few precious seconds. We also saw our first camels which wander around at random, apparently there are more camels than people. Anything would have been a paradise compared to the last hotel but the next hotel was heaven on earth by comparison, a glorious hotel with air con, new clean bathrooms.

After paradise the hell of desert camp. I cycled half way from lunch and made a brilliant choice as we had a tail wind the whole way so screamed along at about 30 km an hour, stopping at the few local stops for long drinks as we didn’t want to beat the first trunk to camp. Mike by contrast did double the miles of which the first half was into a 40 mph head wind. Camp was by the side of the road with the truck canopies providing the only shade. People drifted in over the afternoon as we shuffled around the shade on our therma rests. When Henry asked for volunteers to get a drinks run I jumped up and then spent the next 2 hours in an air conditioned car, and shop and inside a walk in fridge getting beers, water and coke for everyone. It didn’t get cooler all night which was spent sweating naked trying not to touch each other.

I had really had enough the next morning and with nine others we got a taxi at the next town into Ashgabat. Doug was asking at the local petrol station where the taxi’s were and this guy overheard and said he would get his friends to take us for $10.00. So he and two friends drove all of us 350 km into town for $30.00, we would have paid him $10 per person but he seemed happy. We checked into the best hotel in town for $60 per room and soaked up the air con, pool and cold running water ensuite. I did feel guilty when Mike said it reached 52 degrees in camp that night while I got so cold I had to use a blanket. He had encouraged me to leave though.
Mike had come up with a brilliant idea in camp though. He persuaded Henry to buy a truck of water, 2000 litres for $25.00. Everyone gathered around with buckets and red boxes which they filled with cool water and had impromptu showers and baths, the beer then arrived and everyone started to almost have fun.

We met the next day at the Vegas hotel strip in Ashgabat a group of 30 odd hotels in a district just out of town, built and now waiting like ghosts for visitors, a very surreal place. The President has just died but before that he had indulged in a monumental rebuilding project, which consisted of large numbers of huge marble clad buildings, dozens of fountains and monuments of himself. These are on vast wide avenues with no people and few cars. Very impressive but so sterile and odd.

The best part of Ashgabat, apart from the air con in our room was the local market just out of town where you could buy everything: camels, cars, fridges, doors in frames, fur hats, jewellery and even bike parts. It was wonderful. There was a section for carpets and puff ball hats made from wool, fox, wolf and black caps made from mink. We heard a buzzing and around the corner were the gold sellers, dozens of women gathered around small tables picking up jewelry, trying it on, chatting with friends and the traders and eventually getting the piece weighed on a tiny scale before handing over the cash. We saw one family load a fridge freezer onto the back of a bus having just come out of the back of a car. The saddest area was the flea market when people spread a sheet on the ground and sold what they had. One guy had a one legged doll, some dirty children’s toys and two calendars one from 2000 and one from 2001. It really was very moving.
The market as a whole was a real joy, buzzing with wonderful colours and people such a contrast to the sterile streets of the capital.