United Arab Emirates: The Empty Quarter

April 9, 2016April 7, 2016 ~ Baerbel and Johan ~ 1 Comment

237 km and 551m of altitude gain (in total 7,842km and 48,082m of altitude gain)

14 – 27 February, 2016 – It was time to end our hippie existence at the beach as our Dubai friends had invited us to a desert trip to the Empty Quarter, an experience we definitely didn’t want to miss. As we had enough time for the slightly more than 200km we hoped to find another beach camp spot in Oman before finally leaving the country. Despite a breathtaking and ear-popping ride on Oman’s most scenic coastal road there was only one suitable beach for us, but having cycled less than 20km we decided to move on not knowing that we wouldn’t find another place for a quiet rest – all of the other beaches were far too small and hence too close to the road. So we ended up crossing the border, which was challenging because we had to deal with the most stupid border officer you can imagine. First he didn’t speak English while only dealing with foreign passports and second he wouldn’t understand how we got to Musandam even though two other officers explained to him several times that we took the ferry. It felt as if we had spent hours at this border post and we were relieved when the guy finally stamped our passports and let us leave. The rest of the day we cycled through one big industrial area on a dusty highway together with hundreds of trucks. No fun at all and we were glad when we finally reached a resthouse, where we pitched our tent next to the empty swimming pool following another nightmarish discussion with the guesthouse staff. We just didn’t want to pay a lot of money for a depressing room and beach camping wasn’t possible due to all the factories.

Musandam Coastal Road:

The next day we managed to find a smaller road again next to the sea, a big relief. Right after lunch an Emirati stopped us to take our picture in front of an old museum. He insisted on inviting us for a drink as we objected to having lunch right after lunch. We slowly continued cycling always looking for a good spot to camp. At around 4pm we stopped in a small village at a mosque to refill our water bottles. It was closed though and a nice man next door helped us out. His maid had to refill all our water bottles and after a short chat he invited us for dinner – at a 5-star hotel around 20km further down the beach. He also explained to us where we could camp and so we moved on. I need to add that by now we hadn’t showered in 9 days let alone washed our hair – at the beach in Khasab we used to swim in the sea and wash ourselves with two bottles of fresh water afterwards and in yesterday’s resthouse we were shown to the swimming pool facilities – toilets where we had to use ice-cold water coming from the toilet hose. We felt a little embarrassed entering the fancy hotel that dirty and were wondering if we maybe could get a good deal for a room. Johan asked for the hotel manager and after a longer discussion even the heavily discounted room rate was beyond our budget. But the manager offered us to take a shower at their spa, which was heaven and pure luxury at the same time. With a clean body, clean hair and clean clothes we felt so good again and ready to meet our dinner host. But first we wanted to find a good camp spot. We cycled along the main road of the island and succeeded behind a fence of a construction site. Back at the hotel they didn’t want to let us in again – the hotel turned out to be an All-Inclusive-Place and once in we could have enjoyed food and drinks for free. We explained our situation but were constantly asked who our friend was as we would have had to pay around 80 EUR per person for food and drinks, no matter when we would enter. We couldn’t believe our ears but were finally let in. As agreed we called Omar at 7pm but he didn’t pick up the phone. Same ten minutes later and no response either 20 minutes later. We decided to wait another ten minutes before leaving again when the phone rang and Omar called back. He would be at the hotel in ten minutes he told us. We waited in front of the hotel lobby and about 45 minutes later Omar arrived in his red Jaguar F-type sports car, parking right in front. In the meantime we had made friends with most of the hotel staff and all were very curious to know who our friend might be. When they saw him, they all grinned and looked understandingly – everybody knew him and he seemed to be a welcome guest. Later he told us that he is working at the presidential palace in Abu Dhabi and he seemed to bring a lot of people to this hotel. At the restaurant the chef grilled special meat for us and came with us for a last photo shoot with the hotel photographer in front of the hotel. Unfortunately we never got the photos as Omar wasn’t able to send emails – when we asked him to email them to us he sent a WhatsApp photo of our photo taken with his smartphone camera :-).

The guy who invited us happened to be a keen motorcyclist

The guy on the left is the one... — The guy on the left is the one…

The only and ominous photo with Omar in front of his car

Camping at a construction site behind a fence

The following day we cycled into Sharjah only to find out that camping wasn’t allowed on any of the beaches and we had to look for hotel accommodation once more. Cheeky as we are we went to the Sheraton asking for a good rate for two world cyclists. And we succeeded – we only paid 25% of the normal rate for a double room including buffet breakfast.

A bike race happened to take place on the road we cycled

Who else could have been the winner :-)? — Who is the winner? Johan of course!

Some luxury after weeks of camping at the Sheraton

After a good night’s sleep and a huge breakfast we cycled the final stretch to get to our friends in Dubai. The route started off nicely with wide palm-tree-lined beaches but would soon turn into an industrial area with narrow 4-lane roads and heavy traffic. I got so scared cycling there that we took a taxi for the last 15km just across the Dubai Creek. From there we once more cycled along the beach road and discovered the Bikers Café – a place where all world travelers eat and drink for free as long as they stay in Dubai. After two coffees, a photo shoot with their photographer and a short interview we said our goodbyes for now.

This picture is now on the wall of Dubai's Bikers Café — This picture is now on the wall of Dubai’s Bikers Café

Cycling through a metro station instead of crossing a major highway

And finally back in our cosy room 'Chez Nathalie et Stéphane' — And finally back in our cosy room ‘Chez Nathalie et Stéphane’

After a day’s rest and a lot of laundry business we embarked on another exciting trip with Stéphane and Nathalie – a desert trip to the Empty Quarter, close to Liwa. The Empty Quarter is the largest uninterrupted sand desert of the world and made famous by the British explorer Wilfred Thesiger who crossed the desert twice in 1946 and 1947. It covers some 650,000 square kilometers and includes parts of Oman, Saudi-Arabia, UAE and Yemen.

Our car packed till the top we left in the early morning to meet our guide and some other families in four different 4WD cars. To get there we had to drive for about 4 hours on a quite boring road. By lunch time we reached the Empty Quarter and stopped at a beautiful platform overlooking kilometers of sand dunes originally built for the nearby hotel as a remote restaurant but never finished. After lunch we rode further into the desert to find a good campsite, pitched our tents and left for an unforgettable ride through the most beautiful desert scenery we’ve ever seen.

Getting ready to rock and roll... deflating tires — Getting ready to rock and roll… deflating tires

Yes, there are still unmotorized vehicles in the desert — Yes, there are still live vehicles in the desert

Being the tail of your group means having always a clear view

Setting up our dining area — Setting up our dining…

...and sleeping area — …and sleeping area

Scary moment and yes, we've been there as well. But in contrary to this driver we made it in one go along the dune thanks to our fantastic driver Stéphane — Scary moment and yes, we’ve been there as well. But in contrary to this driver we made it in one go along the dune thanks to our fantastic driver Stéphane

Drivers' instructions — Drivers’ instructions

...and unmatched vistas so close to Saudi-Arabia — …and unmatched vistas so close to Saudi-Arabia

If you're sitting in the car this feels much steeper than it looks — Another scary moment – if you’re sitting in the car this feels much steeper than it looks

At a salt lake — At the small remainder of a salt lake

We spent two absolutely exciting and fun days and ended the trip with a joint lunch at the desert hotel. Thank you once again Nathalie and Stéphane for giving us the opportunity to join you, it was sooooo cool!

We spent another week in Dubai with Stéphane driving us around to be able to prepare for the continuation of our trip. Johan was busy packing our bikes as I worked and cleaned up all our gear. A few more times we all had lunch at the Bikers Café and on departure day Nathalie and Stéphane drove us to the airport – they needed to make sure we are really leaving 🙂 – and we once more said our goodbyes. We again had a great time at their house and cannot thank them enough for their generosity and hospitality! Hope to see you somewhere soon in this world!

Last lunch at the Bikers Café with Stéphane on 'Rare disease day' where I got a new high-vis jacket — Last lunch at the Bikers Café with Stéphane on ‘Rare Disease Day’ where I got a new high-vis jacket

Off to Thailand now!

From Shiraz to the Persian Gulf

January 18, 2016 ~ Baerbel and Johan ~ Leave a comment

309km, 1,636 m altitude gain (4,578km and 33,988m altitude gain in total)

12 – 24 November, 2015 – In Shiraz we chose once more for a more costly accommodation to be sure we would be able to relax and get ready for the final stretch. As we reached our chosen hotel – an old heritage site with rooms built around a courtyard – Johan negotiated hard to get a five-US-Dollar discount. Not bad but also not much, especially for what we got. Tired as we were we moved into our room by first cycling through a few winding alleys to get as close as possible. We then carried our numerous panniers through the courtyard which also serves as a restaurant and lounge area and then a few narrow steps up to our tiny room. While everything was very atmospheric with tiles on the walls and colored windows, we were still a bit disappointed about our small room without bathroom for 30 US-Dollars. The next morning we decided to move on to another hotel and once more moved all our panniers down the stairs, through the courtyard, loaded our bikes and cycled back through the alleys to the hotel reception. That day’s receptionist immediately offered us another 10-US-Dollar discount and so we cycled back the alley, walked our panniers through the courtyard and up the stairs again.

That afternoon we learned that ‘our boys’ would continue cycling the next day as they didn’t get a visa extension in Shiraz and we invited them for a farewell dinner at our hotel. We exchanged contact details, made a few more farewell videos and wished each other well before they finally left. We had a great time together and we’ve become very used to their company and their massive appetite – it’s hardly imaginable that there are people eating more than us – and we were sad to see them leave. But that’s the fate of travellers: we meet people, we get to know each other better and then we have to leave again. It is sometimes heartbreaking but always an enrichment and the idea to see each other once again somewhere on the planet makes it more bearable. Take care, Samuel and Jakob!

Shiraz didn’t impress us as much as Esfahan, but was still worth a visit. The city is known for poets, literature, wine and flowers. While wine is no longer produced and consumed in Shiraz, like everywhere else in Iran as alcohol is banned, there are a lot of citrus trees lining the streets and gardens. We visited the mausoleum and shrine of the King of the Light and for that we got a personal guide wearing a sash with “International Affairs” written on it. We werent allowed to enter it on our own. At the entrance I got a chador and we were told not to take any photos. At the speed of light – I thought the guide would soon suffocate – we got explanations about the King of the Light and his brother, but forgot everything immediately, too much information at so little time. We had to enter the mosque separately and I entered a glittering hall to see women touching the silver bars of the shrine followed by touching their own faces. They continued moving along the shrine and touching everything. The hall was beautifully decorated with small-cut mirrors to intensify the light from the chandelier but also to make sure, people are concentrating on god and not on their faces. It’s an impressive site with a beautifully restored old part as well as a new part that only opened eight months ago.

We also visited the mausoleum of Hafez, one of the most famous Iranian poets. It is said that every Iranian household owns at least three books: the Quran and the poems of Hafez and Saadi. We were also told that people sit around the tomb and in the gardens reciting Hafez poems. To our biggest disappointment we only saw overly made-up Iranian women and men with their selfie sticks taking selfies.

Another beautiful and very peaceful site is the small but fine Pink Mosque known best for its huge and beautiful colored windows. It’s called the Pink Mosque for it’s extensive use of pink tiles for its interior design.

Some random Shiraz shots:

And then it was time to move on again. This time we chose a more remote route through the mountains to avoid heavy traffic. At the end of the first day we stopped in a village to find a place to sleep. We were quickly helped and showed to a mosque where we could sleep in the huge hall, only separated in the middle by a curtain. We made ourselves at home, chose one corner of the huge room for our mattresses and the middle – with the only light above – as our dining area. We soon started cooking outside when suddenly two men arrived, looking puzzled at us only to disappear in the mosque, switching on a tape with the call for prayer and coming out again. Now we at least got the confirmation, that not every call for prayer is live! However, we had to remove all our stuff again, as we had decided to camp in the women’s prayer hall. Fantastic! As quickly as we could Johan put everything in one corner while I continued cooking. Soon five women arrived to pray for about ten minutes in our bedroom and then left again. There were a handful more men joining the prayer in the other chamber of the hall while we were eating. Once praying was finished, we got about ten invitations to sleep at people’s houses. We declined as we didn’t want to pack everything once more. Instead, two boys would now sleep in the men’s prayer hall to make sure we were safe. The following morning Johan had a very weird political discussion with one of the boys, aged around 20. It was around the topic that the Iranian government is banning Western media channels such as BBC and CNN. The boy was convinced that it was the right thing to do, as the US government is very bad and supporting the IS. Thankfully we met more people who weren’t as brainwashed as these two guys.

At 'our' mosque — At ‘our’ mosque in the early morning

The route we chose was more remote than we had expected and much more beautiful. For two days there was no mobile phone reception and traffic was very low as well. We cycled through a rocky and very hilly desert with an ever changing scenery from tree-lined roads to barren mountains where it seemed that no life would be possible. At times it resembled a huge construction site with a myriad of sand piles. In the last larger town before the Persian gulf we could camp at a hotel after a lengthy and unfriendly discussion with the hotel managers. The following nights we stayed with Iranian families for the first time, as we couldn’t find a good spot to camp. At the second homestay we got warned about the coastal stretch we wanted to cycle: there would be a lot of Ali Babas and two cyclists had been robbed there some time ago. We left the next day with mixed feelings and very unsure about how to overcome the last part of our cycling through Iran.

We're not really fond of tunnels — Another way to block a road you’re not supposed to ride on

P1230896 — Johan’s new mode of transportation

P1230910 — Against the wind – what else?

We're not so fond of tunnels — We’re not so fond of tunnels

...and whith who we had a wonderful evening. — …and with who we had a wonderful evening.

A road just for the two of us - unfortunately only for about 10km — A road just for the two of us – unfortunately only for about 10km

Super yummy food: Rice, chicken with French fries, raw vegetable salad and prawns

With our hosts - the men from the gas station — With our hosts – the men from the gas station

And the second family - the ones who were worried about Ali Baba at the coast — And the second family – the ones who were worried about Ali Baba at the coast

Von Schiras bis an den Persischen Golf

January 18, 2016 ~ Baerbel and Johan ~ Leave a comment

12. – 24. November 2015 – In Schiras wollten wir uns nochmals selbst verwöhnen und gönnten uns ein etwas besseres Hotel, um uns zu erholen und auf die letzte Etappe im Iran vorzubereiten. Im Hotel angekommen – einem alten traditionellen Gebäude, das um einen Innenhof herum gebaut ist – verhandelte Johan hart für einen Rabatt von fünf US-Dollar. Nicht gerade viel, aber immerhin. Müde machten wir uns auf den Weg in unser Zimmer. Dazu mussten wir durch enge, sich windende Gässchen radeln, unsere zahlreichen Taschen durch den kompletten Innenhof, der gleichzeitig Restaurant und Lounge war, schleppen und dann nochmals eine enge und steile Treppe hochklettern, um unser Mini-Zimmer zu beziehen. Obwohl alles sehr stilgerecht eingerichtet war, waren wir doch enttäuscht, da wir immerhin 30 US-Dollar für ein extrem kleines Zimmer ohne Bad bezahlen mussten. Daher packten wir am nächsten Morgen unsere Siebensachen wieder, um uns ein anderes Hotel zu suchen. Wieder schleppten wir alles eine Treppe nach unten, durch den Innenhof, bepackten unsere Räder und radelten durch die Gassen zurück zur Rezeption. Die heutige Rezeptionistin bot uns sofort einen weiteren Rabatt von 10 US-Dollar an und so radelten wir wieder zurück und schleppten unsere Taschen ein drittes Mal durch den Innenhof und die steile Treppe hoch.

An diesem Nachmittag teilten uns unsere ‘Jungs’ mit, dass sie bereits am nächsten Tag wieder aufbrechen würden, da ihre Visa leider nicht verlängert wurden und wir luden sie zum Abendessen in unser Hotel ein. Wir tauschten nochmals Fotos und Adressen aus und drehten letzte gemeinsame Videos bevor wir sie endgültig verabschiedeten. Wir hatten eine sehr schöne gemeinsame Zeit und hatten uns sehr an ihre Gesellschaft und ihren großen Appetit gewöhnt – wir hätten nie gedacht, dass es Menschen gibt, die noch mehr essen können als wir – und waren doch ein bisschen traurig, sie weiterziehen zu lassen. Aber das ist die Kehrseite der Medaille von Reisenden: Wir treffen immer wieder liebe Menschen, lernen sie besser kennen und schätzen und müssen dann wieder Abschied nehmen. Das ist oft sehr schwer, aber der Gedanke, sie irgendwann irgendwo auf der Welt wiederzutreffen, macht das Ganze dann erträglicher. Alles Gute euch beiden!

Schiras hat uns nicht ganz so sehr beeindruckt wie Esfahan, hat sich aber trotzdem gelohnt. Bekannt ist die Stadt für seine Dichter, den Wein und Blumen. Während Wein weder produziert noch konsumiert werden darf – wie übrigens überall im Iran, da Alkohol verboten ist – ist die Stadt voll mit Gärten und Zitrusbäumen, die die Straßenränder säumen. Wir besuchten das Mausoleum und den Schrein des Lichtkönigs, wofür wir sogar einen persönlichen Guide bekamen, der eine Schärpe mit der Aufschrift “International Affairs” (Internationale Angelegenheiten) trug – alleine durften wir das Mausoleum und die Moschee nicht betreten. Ich musste einen Chador tragen und Fotos durften wir auch keine machen. In rasender Geschwindigkeit erklärte uns der Guide alles Mögliche über den Lichtkönig und seinen Bruder, ich hatte fast Angst, er würde ersticken. Alles ging so schnell, dass wir Gesagtes innerhalb von Minuten wieder vergaßen. Die Moschee betraten wir dann getrennt und ich trat in eine glitzernde Halle ein mit Frauen, die das silberne Gestänge des Schreins und danach ihr Gesicht berührten. Diese Prozedur wurde entlang des kompletten Schreins mehrfach wiederholt. Die Halle selbst sah wunderschön aus, mit kleinen Spiegelmosaiken, die das Licht der Kronleuchter widerspiegelten und dafür sorgen sollten, dass sich die Menschen nicht auf ihr Aussehen, sondern auf Gott konzentrieren, da man sich selbst nicht mehr im Spiegel erkennen konnte. Der ganze Komplex war wunderschön und eine tolle Kombination von alt und neu.

Wir haben auch das Mausoleum von Hafez besichtigt, einer der berühmtesten Dichter Irans. Man sagt, dass jeder Iraner mindestens drei Bücher besitzt: den Koran, und die gesammelten Gedichte von Hafez und Saadi. Uns wurde auch erzählt, dass die Iraner am Grab sitzen, und Hafez-Gedichte zitieren. Zu unserer größten Enttäuschung sahen wir leider nur stark herausgeputzte Iraner, die mit ihren Selfie-Sticks Selfies machten.

Eine weitere wunderschöne und friedvolle Sehenswürdigkeit ist die Pink Moschee, bekannt für ihre riesigen farbigen Fenster. Sie wird Pink genannt, da im Inneren viele pinkfarbenen Fliesen verwendet wurden.

Und hier noch weitere Eindrücke von Schiris:

Und dann war es wieder an der Zeit, weiterzuziehen. Wir hatten uns dieses Mal für eine etwas abgelegenere Route durch die Berge entschieden, um den starken Verkehr zu vermeiden. Am Ende des ersten Tages hielten wir in einem kleinen Dorf, um nach einem Schlafplatz zu suchen. Schnell wurde uns geholfen, und wir wurden zu einer Moschee gebracht – einer riesigen Halle, die in der Mitte durch einen Vorhang getrennt war. Wir richteten uns ein, in einer Ecke das Schlafzimmer und in der Mitte des Raumes, direkt unter der einzigen Lampe, das Esszimmer. Danach begannen wir zu kochen, als plötzlich zwei Männer kamen, uns etwas irritiert anschauten, in der Moschee verschwanden, um ein Tonband mit dem Gebetsaufruf anzuschalten, um dann sofort wieder herauszukommen. Zumindest wussten wir jetzt, dass nicht jeder Gebetsaufruf live stattfindet! Allerdings mussten wir alle unsere Sachen wieder wegräumen, da wir unser Lager in der Frauenmoschee aufgeschlagen hatten. Super! Während ich weiterkochte, räumte Johan alles so gut es ging in eine Ecke. Kurz darauf kamen dann auch fünf Frauen, um in unserem Schlafzimmer für ungefähr zehn Minuten zu beten und gingen dann wieder. Während wir aßen, fanden sich auf der Männerseite noch ein Paar weitere Männer ein. Nachdem alle mit dem Beten fertig waren, wurden wir von bestimmt zehn Familienoberhäupten eingeladen, doch besser bei ihnen zu nächtigen. Wir lehnten ab, hatten wir so gar keine Lust, wieder alles einzupacken und umzuziehen. Dafür wurden uns dann aber zwei Jungs an die Seite gestellt, die im Männerabteil schlafen sollten, damit uns auch ja nichts passierte. Am nächsten Morgen hatte Johan dann eine etwas unschöne politische Diskussion mit einem der Jungs. Es ging um das Thema Zensur, und dass der Iran Fernsehsender wie BBC und CNN nicht zulässt. Er war tatsächlich überzeugt, dass dies das einzig Richtige sei, da die US-Regierung ja extrem schlecht sei und den Islamischen Staat unterstütze. Zum Glück haben wir nicht sehr viele so gehirngewaschenen Menschen im Iran getroffen.

Die Route, die wir uns ausgesucht hatten, war einsamer und schöner, als wir dachten. Ganze zwei Tage hatten wir kein Mobilnetz und Verkehr gab es auch kaum. Wir radelten durch eine steinige und sehr bergige Wüste und die Landschaft änderte sich ständig von baumgesäumten Straßen bis hin zu kargen Bergen, wo kein Leben möglich scheint. Manchmal sah die Landschaft mit ihren vielen kleinen Erhebungen aus wie eine große Baustelle mit aufgehäuften Schotterbergen. In der letzten größeren Stadt durften wir in einem Hotelgarten zelten, dies aber erst nach einer langen und sehr unfreundlichen Diskussion mit den Hotelmanagern. Die folgenden Nächte verbrachten wir zum ersten Mal bei iranischen Familien, da wir keine guten Zeltplätze finden konnten. Die zweite Familie warnte uns vor der Küste, dort gäbe es viele Ali Babas und zwei Radfahren seien wohl erst vor Kurzem dort überfallen worden. Mit gemischten Gefühlen und verunsichert fuhren wir am nächsten Tag weiter, da wir nicht wussten, wie wir den letzten Teil unserer Reise durch den Iran gestalten sollten.

The 3Ms – Medressas, Mosques and Mausoleums

December 10, 2015 ~ Baerbel and Johan ~ Leave a comment

Fast facts Uzbekistan:

The region’s cradle of culture for more than 2 millennia and proud home to a spellbinding arsenal of architecture and ancient cities
Hospitality is an essential element of daily life, which we experienced every day in the non-tourism-spoilt countryside
The country is famous for plov (fried rice), which we could hardly get – cooking time is about 2 hours and usually needs to be pre-ordered
Population: around 30 million people
Neighbouring countries: Kazakhstan (North), Kyrgysztan and Tajikistan (East), Afghanistan (South), Turkmenistan (West)

Hier muss noch was rein — Distance: 395 km (2,012km in total)

20 – 29 September, 2015 – After almost 70km of easy cycling we reached the border at 1pm, changed some money at a really bad rate and got three huge piles of banknotes or 500,000 Sum, worth around 80 EUR. From now on we would carry our money in plastic bags as our wallets couldn’t bear so many bills. We made it easily through Tajik customs after our passports had been registered or checked at three different checkpoints and then arrived at the Uzbek border. We knew things would become more difficult now. We had thoroughly counted all our money in advance because we had to declare every penny. As there was only space for three different currencies on the form I almost panicked: I still had 0.20 Tajik Somoni (0.03 EUR) in my wallet and Johan received from our Australian Soccer friends Omani Real. We heard stories from other travellers who had to pay huge fines for not having declared their cents! Once we had filled in our forms the real inspection would begin: the customs officers made us open our panniers and emptied all of them. We had to start our computers and cameras so they could look at our pictures and everything else that’s on there. Johan had to give them a copy of a photo taken from an aluminium factory – the Uzbeks now officially appointed him as a spy. They were also very interested in the books we are reading! About 1.5 hours later we could continue our journey on slightly undulating roads. All we saw to our left and right were cotton, vegetable and fruit fields and small stalls selling grapes and apples.

More cotton harvesting...handy filling for our little self-made mascots — More cotton harvesting…handy filling for our little self-made mascots

Talking about harvesting...this is a slightly different harvest — Talking about harvesting…this is a slightly different harvest

Market en route to Samarkand — Market on our way to Samarkand

As it was difficult to find a spot for wild camping without being seen – there were people everywhere and we felt a bit like being back in India: each time we stopped within a few minutes we were surrounded by a crowd – we asked at people’s houses if we could pitch out tent in their garden or on their field. Without hesitating they invited us into their house, prepared tea, bread and sweets for us and gave us a room to sleep. Sometimes we could cook our own food but still had to eat their bread and cookies. We slept on the ground on thin mattresses that were piled meter-high in their living rooms, always ready to serve fellow travelers.

Our first homestay - they insisted on getting our phone number even though they wouldn't speak a single word English! — Our first homestay – they insisted on getting our phone number even though they wouldn’t speak a single word English!

This lady is selling home-made cakes and Nescafe - a cyclist's heaven! — This lady is selling home-made cakes and Nescafe – a cyclist’s heaven!

When I came back from grocery shopping, Johan was surrounded by this crowd!

Our absolute favorite afternoon snack on a hot summerday – I am talking about the watermelon!

Sunflower oil - the staple oil in Uzbekistan — Sunflower oil – much used in Uzbekistan

On our third day travelling through now mountainous countryside we passed a police checkpoint at around 3pm. The police officer asked for our hotel slips and as we had none he made clear to us that we had to register at a hotel tonight. You need to know that it is mandatory in Uzbekistan to register at hotels at least every third day otherwise you’ll get into serious trouble at the border once leaving the country. Before this checkpoint we weren’t really worried about the registration and as this had been a tough day with a lot of climbing and headwinds we had planned to look for a camp spot or homestay once more. The distance to the next hotel was still around 50km. With a continuously undulating road and very strong headwinds we knew we would never make it to the town before nightfall and decided to hitch a ride. The first truck driver immediately stopped – but he was from Iran and his truck sealed – no way we could have squeezed our bikes in his cabin. Then another truck stopped and three men stepped out. After we made ourselves understood they had a huge discussion amongst themselves. As far as we understood there was another police checkpoint in about 35km and one of them wanted to take us and the other one didn’t, given the risk with the police. People in Uzbekistan also aren’t allowed to invite foreigners into their homes, let alone give them a lift. Ten minutes later our bikes were loaded into the truck and we were sitting next to them on a soft blanket trying to sit stable and at times jumping up a meter given the many potholes and the fact that the driver might have forgotten about his fragile freight. About an hour later we arrived a few hundred meters before the checkpoint, unloaded and repacked our bikes, thanked the driver and cycled the remaining 15km to the hotel.

On our way to our first longer stop at Samarkand we had to cross a few unexpected passes, often struggling with headwinds and bad roads that looked as if a cow had shat asphalt. We met lovely people who sweetened our days with fruit and other goodies. We also met a few not so nice people: At a restaurant where they tried to screw us by asking far too much money for what we had. In the end we paid one third less than they asked for and we were quite upset as they had tried to ask extra money for napkins next to the 10% service fee.

The surprisingly mountainous countryside

After almost two months on the road through amazing landscapes we were now looking forward to some sightseeing of ancient towns featuring old Islamic architecture. Our first planned stop was Shakhrisabz, Timur’s hometown who in the 14^th century turned the town into an extended family monument. Timur is considered the last of the great nomadic conquerors of the Eurasian Steppe. All that is left of his monuments is a gigantic 38m-high gate covered with gorgeous unrestored, filigree-like mosaics. Unfortunately most of the old town had been broken down for renovation at the time we visited and we continued our journey to Samarkand the same day.

A sand storm thankfully not affecting us - the wind was this time in our back and blew us to — A sand storm thankfully not affecting us – the wind was this time in our back and blew us to Shakhrisabz

DSCF0091 — The massive remainder of the palace gate in Shakhrisabz, I am the little pink spot on the right

We entered Samarkand from a part that most likely no tourist will ever get to see. Several times I checked our online map to make sure we are entering the town and not going to some small villages. The road into town was non-existing, dusty, pebbly and pot-holed, just one big disaster. Small shops and houses lined the road and we felt sorry for the people having to live here. Only two kilometers before we reached the center the streets would improve.

P1230145 — At the foot of the last pass before Samarkand

DSCF0148 — Fruit sellers at the top of the mountain

DSCF0153 — Jaws was here as well (remember the James Bond movies ‘The spy who loved me’ or ‘Moonraker’?)

P1230159 — 2,000km right before Samarkand

DSCF0165 — The good thing about few furniture: if you are moving, everything fits in one car 🙂

Samarkand is a key Silk Road City and already Alexander the Great who took the town in 329 BC said: “Everything I have heard about Marakanda is true, except that it’s more beautiful than I ever imagined.” We really liked Samarkand despite knowing that most of the monuments have been restored by the Soviets and only few original parts remained. And while some parts of the town felt a little like Disneyland with its clean alleys, souvenir shops and cafés, these gigantic medressas, mosques and mausoleums made quite an impression on us knowing they belong to the world’s oldest preserved buildings.

Samarkand impressions:

DSCF0541 — A beautiful mosaic mausoleum dome

DSCF0686 — The grande Registan Square with its Medressas (former Quran schools)

DSCF0674 — The police is everywhere in a police state

DSCF0776 — The Registan is a great backdrop for wedding photos, a few other couples were already getting ready for the set

DSCF0813 — Traditional velvet dresses at the Registan

DSCF0867 — The inside of a Medressa/Mosque

DSCF0878 — A peaceful courtyard at a Mosque/Medressa

Even the smallest space is used for souvenir shops

A typical Uzbek cemetry — A typical Uzbek cemetery

At the Samarkand market, where you can get everything from…

P1230207 — …fruits, vegetables and and herbs,…

Relaxing in Dushanbe

October 7, 2015 ~ Baerbel and Johan ~ 1 Comment

Fast facts Tajikistan:

A small landlocked jewel with huge and beautiful mountains, second only in height to the Himalaya/Karakoram range
Neighbouring countries: Kyrgyzstan (North), China (East), Afghanistan (South), Uzbekistan (West)
Population: 8.5 million people
Poorest country in Central Asia: a teacher earns approximately 80 USD per month and it is estimated that 20% of the population lives on less than 1.25 USD per day.
Drug trafficking is the major illegal income source

9 – 20 September 2015 – We’ve had a wonderful time in Dushanbe. Only then we realized how tired we were. Not only from a 24-hour drive heart-stoppingly close to cliffs but also from the hard work over the past few weeks. The coming days we did not set an alarm, we did not struggle against headwinds and instead just slept, read, ate, updated the blog, slept, strolled through the city, relaxed a bit more, applied for our Turkmen transit visas, slept again, met a few other cyclists and enjoyed the luxury of our guesthouse.

Marian's guesthouse in Dushanbe - our little paradise — Marian’s Guesthouse in Dushanbe – our little paradise

Finally meeting Phoebe who is cycling to Singapore. We met her brother a few years ago in Singapore and have been following Phoebe's travels since earlier this year. — Finally meeting Phoebe who is cycling to Singapore. We met her brother a few years ago in Singapore and have been following Phoebe’s travels since earlier this year.

Tajikistan's president - smiling at us from millions of billboards — Tajikistan’s president – looking at us from millions of billboards

One of Dushanbe's landmarks — One of Dushanbe’s landmarks

Once Asia's largest flagpole, the flag alone measures 2000 square meters! — Once Asia’s largest flagpole, the flag alone measures 2000 square meters!

The day our visas should have been ready we nervously cycled to the embassy. We had heard too many stories of people getting rejected for no obvious reasons. We arrived at around 9am only to hear that they would only open by 9.30am. Finally inside we were told to come back the next day, the visas weren’t ready as yet. Now we were even more thankful that we had arrived on time in Dushanbe as the next day was Friday and Sunday was the day we had to leave Tajikistan. If we wouldn’t get the visas on Friday we would have to leave without. But lucky as we are the next day it was ready – we only had to cycle across the city through mad traffic to pay our 110 $ visa fee to a Pakistan Bank located at the other end of the city and pedal once more all the way back.

Two happy chaps with their Turkmenistan visas

Finally we were ready to hit the road again. The next morning the alarm went off early again but we couldn’t believe our eyes. It was raining! We haven’t seen any rain in weeks. The forecast was bad for the whole day and eventually we stayed another day. Good decision, the following day we set off on a clear and sunny day with slight tailwinds. Mostly we cycled along boring cotton fields, apple plantations and grapevines, with a barren mountain chain in the background. But after 12 days off the bikes we enjoyed sitting once again on our hard saddles. Halfway to the border we got a water melon and ate it together with the friendly and very well English-speaking people. Later that day I got fresh grapes and Johan a freshly baked bread. From everywhere we once more heard friendly ‘Hellos’ and ‘Salams’ and people kept asking us how we liked Tajikistan. We were no longer ‘normal’ tourists but cycling travellers attracting a lot of attention and causing much confusion. ‘Why do you cycle? Why not go by car? This is so much easier!’, were the questions and comments we got from locals. Only the poorest or kids are cycling in Tajikistan, everyone else rides a car.

Aluminium production - we are now part of an espionage plot, as the Uzbek customs officer asked us for a copy of this photo — Aluminium production – we are now part of an espionage plot, as the Uzbek customs officer asked us for a copy of this photo

We entered the country from a very poor area and cycled through one of the most remote regions. The climate is rough with hot and arid summers and very cold winters. People are shy but very friendly and hospitable. Food is basic with little variety. Soup is the staple dish and if we were lucky there were a few other vegetables than potatoes in it. With it we usually got stale bread and sweets. Sometimes fried potatoes or plov (fried rice with carrots and mutton meat) was served. If we were very lucky we got tomato and cucumber salad, most likely the cause for our constant stomach issues.

Bathrooms are basic and usually quite dirty. This surprised us as they are very tidy if it comes to their houses. You must not enter the house with shoes, that’s a major offence. Early in the morning they start sweeping the floors and it continues throughout the day, often to our annoyance as they cause more dust than anything else. Squat toilets are built as far away from the house as possible and shower facilities usually don’t work – there was either boiling hot or ice-cold water, nothing in between. Sometimes there would only be a few drops coming out of the tap. But then these were bathrooms built for tourists. Locals on the countryside only have toilets, washing takes place in front of their houses with water out of a tin pot or a bucket.

Tajiks are very bad drivers, same as everywhere else in Central Asia. Due to the condition of the roads, cars – the majority being old ladas from the Sovjet era – are in the same poor state. Tajiks only know one speed: fast. Wheels spin whenever they leave, they are overtaking everywhere whether they see something or not, they are always on the phone and we’ve hardly seen cars without broken windshields.

Landscapes were absolutely stunning and breathtaking most of the time. Being such a mountainous country it’s been the toughest cycling experience for us ever. Despite all the pain and effort we’ve been through we are very grateful that we made it through the Pamirs in one piece and that we were able to explore these extraordinary landscapes.

Ausspannen in Dushanbe

October 7, 2015 ~ Baerbel and Johan ~ Leave a comment

Fakten Tadschikistan:

Ein kleiner, von Land umgebener Juwel mit atemberaubenden Bergen, die höchsten nach dem Himalaja/Karakorum
Nachbarländer: Kirgisistan (Norden), China (Osten), Afghanistan (Süden), Usbekistan (Westen)
Bevölkerung: 8,5 Millionen
Das ärmste Land Zentralasiens: ein Lehrer verdient ungefähr 80 USD im Monat und Schätzungen gehen davon aus, dass 20% der Bevölkerung mit weniger als 1,25 USD auskommen muss
Drogenhandel ist die größte illegale Einkommensquelle

9. – 20. September 2015 – Wir hatten eine sehr schöne Zeit in Dushanbe. Erst hier fiel uns auf, wie müde wir waren. Nicht nur von einer abenteuerlichen 24-Stunden-Fahrt am Rande des Abgrunds, sondern vor allem von der harten Arbeit der letzten Wochen. Jetzt stellten wir uns endlich keinen Wecker mehr, mussten nicht gegen den Wind ankämpfen, dagegen schliefen wir viel, lasen, aßen, aktualisierten den Blog, schliefen, ich arbeitete, wir liefen durch die Stadt, entspannten uns ein bisschen mehr, kümmerten uns um unsere Turkmenistan Visa, schliefen ein bisschen mehr, trafen andere Radfahrer und genossen den Luxus unseres Gasthauses.

An enormous tea house — Alles ist hier groß – hier ein enormes Teehaus

Am Tag, als unsere Visa fertig sein sollten, radelten wir nervös zur Botschaft. Wir haben so viele Geschichten von Menschen gehört, denen das Visum grundlos verweigert wurde. Wir kamen um 9 Uhr wie vereinbart an, die Botschaft machte aber erst um 9.30 Uhr auf. Nachdem wir dann endlich rein durften mussten wir leider erfahren, dass unsere Visa noch nicht fertig waren. Jetzt waren wir erst recht froh, dass wir so rechtzeitig nach Dushanbe gereist sind, denn der nächste Tag war Freitag und am Sonntag mussten wir das Land verlassen. Wenn wir morgen das Visum nicht bekämen, müssten wir ohne ausreisen. Aber wir hatten wieder einmal Glück, am nächsten Tag waren die Visa fertig, wir mussten nur noch quer durch die ganze Stadt und wahnsinnigen Verkehr radeln, um die Visagebühr von 110 $ bei der Pakistan Bank zu bezahlen und dann wieder zurückradeln, um unsere Pässe mit neuem Aufkleber abzuholen.

Jetzt konnten wir endlich wieder weiterradeln. Am nächsten Morgen klingelte der Wecker wieder früh und wir trauten unseren Augen nicht: Es regnete! Wochenlang hatte es nicht geregnet. Die Vorhersage war für den ganzen Tag schlecht und letztendlich blieben wir noch einen Tag länger. Das war eine gute Entscheidung, denn am nächsten Tag fuhren wir bei Sonnenschein und leichtem Rückenwind los. Die Strecke war langweilig, meist fuhren wir an Baumwoll- und Obstplantagen mit Äpfelbäumen und Traubenstöcken vorbei und einer kahlen Bergkette im Hintergrund. Das machte aber nichts, nach zwölf radlosen Tagen waren wir froh, wieder auf unseren harten Sätteln sitzen zu dürfen. Auf halbem Weg zur Grenze bekamen wir eine Melone geschenkt, die wir gemeinsam mit den netten und sehr gut Englisch sprechenden Menschen aßen. Später bekamen wir noch leckere Trauben frisch gepflückt und ein warmes Brot aus dem Backofen geschenkt. Von überall her hörten wir wieder “Hello” und “Salam” und die Menschen fragten uns, ob es uns denn in Tadschikistan gefiele. Jetzt waren wir nicht mehr länger ‘normale’ Touristen, sondern radelnde Reisende, die viel Aufmerksamkeit auf sich ziehen und oft für Verwirrung sorgen. ‘Warum fahrt ihr mit dem Fahrrad? Warum nicht mit dem Auto? Das ist doch viel einfacher!’ hörten wir immer wieder von den Ortsansässigen. Hier radeln nur die Ärmsten oder Kinder, alle anderen fahren Auto.

Wir sind in das Land von seiner ärmsten Seite eingereist und fuhren durch eine der abgelegensten Gebiete. Das Klima ist hart mit heißen und trockenen Sommern und sehr kalten Wintern. Die Menschen sind scheu, aber sehr nett und gastfreundlich. Das Essen ist sehr einfach und bietet wenig Variationen. Suppe ist DAS Gericht und wenn wir Glück hatten, dann gab es außer Kartoffeln noch anderes Gemüse in der Suppe. Oft aßen wir dazu altes Brot und Süßigkeiten. Manchmal gab es Bratkartoffeln oder Plov (gebratener Reis mit Karotten und etwas Hammelfleisch). Und wenn wir ganz besonderes Glück hatten, gab es Tomaten- und Gurkensalat, der war wahrscheinlich immer der Grund für unsere ständigen Magen- und Darmprobleme.

Die Bäder sind hier ebenfalls sehr spartanisch und oft leider auch sehr dreckig. Letzteres ist überraschend, denn die Häuser sind extrem sauber. Auf keinen Fall dürfen sie mit Schuhen betreten werden, das kommt einem schweren Verbrechen gleich. Schon früh morgens wird mit dem Fegen begonnen, dann werden die Böden genässt und gewischt und dann wird wieder gefegt. Die Stehklos sind immer so weit wie möglich weg vom Haus und die Duschen funktionieren in der Regel nicht, wenn es denn welche gibt. Entweder kommen aus dem Hahn nur ein Paar Tropfen oder kochendheißes oder eiskaltes Wasser, dazwischen gibt es nichts. Aber dann muss man auch wissen, dass diese Bäder auch nur für Touristen gebaut werden, die Menschen hier auf dem Land haben keine Badezimmer, sie waschen sich an einem einfach Waschbecken vor dem Haus. Manchmal gibt es noch nicht einmal ein Waschbecken und man gießt sich das Wasser mit einer Zinnkanne über die Hände und den Rest.

Die Tadschiken sind sehr schlechte Autofahrer, wie übrigens überall sonst in Zentralasien auch. Aufgrund des schlechten Zustands der Straßen sehen Autos nicht viel besser aus – meist sind es hier alte Ladas noch aus Sowietzeiten. Tadschiken können auch nur schnell fahren. Die Reifen quietschen, wenn sie losfahren, sie überholen, ob sie etwas sehen oder nicht, sie telefonieren fast ununterbrochen während der Fahrt und wir haben fast keine Autos ohne Risse in der Windschutzscheibe gesehen.

Die Landschaften waren außergewöhnlich und fast immer atemberaubend. Aufgrund der vielen und hohen Berge war es für uns wohl schwierigste Land zum Radeln. Trotz aller Schmerzen und Anstrengungen durch dieses Land, sind wir froh, dass wir es heil durch den Pamir und das Wakhan-Tal geschafft haben und dass wir die Möglichkeit hatten, diese außergewöhnlichen Landschaften zu erkunden.

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