Tashkent-Vientiane Challenge

Our overland journey took eight weeks to get from Vientiane to Tashkent with our return trip taking only a fraction of that time at two days.

Our bikes were shipped by DHL with Uzbebistan Air on Monday 20th June with Horst, Boris and I on the following flight Wednesday 22nd June. It took the lads until late afternoon on Thursday to finally get the bikes back out of customs in Bangkok when we realised a box was missing. It was the box with Horst's riding gear. A short phone call to Tashkent revealed that 'oops, yes, there is one box still in the office here'. With Horst's protection missing and a severe rain storm pouring down on us at the airport we decided to load the bikes up on a truck and hop into the back of a fancy van. This all was generously sponsored by DHL Bangkok who again proved to be a well run professional team. We then raced through the night to Nong Kai.

On Friday morning then (24.3.2011) we took on the last short drive to the friendship bridge over the Mekong into Laos. Some last minute minor problems arose because we apparently did not have the right paperwork for our bikes to bring them into Laos again. It took us, or rather Horst with his advanced negotiation skills, an hour to resolve the problem and involved Boris and Horst driving back over to the Thai side, getting the exit stamp in the international transport booklet so that the Lao officials could then stamp us in. - Bor pen yang!

For us three, Horst, Boris and me the adventure which a year ago was still a rough plan for a very crazy and exotic trip, is now over. It seems as it was only last week that we headed out! While we get back to work, Simon on his Jolly Jumper is now continuing alone through some more "Stans" and further countries with the aim of reaching the Swiss alpine homelands in August. Check out http://www.laosuri.blogspot.com to stay posted on his journey.

Traveling by train in Uzbekistan

As we had left our bikes in Tashkent for the preparation of the shipment back to Bangkok we took the train to travel between the historic cities. The train system of Uzbekistan is really great and quite efficient. I would not say that booking tickets was easy as most people working at the ticket offices do not speak any languages we do, and train timetables are certainly not as reliable as in Switzerland, but we had a fun experience traveling first class.

First we took the night train from Khiva to Bukhara. The two of us had a full cabin to ourselves with beds that were even long enough for Boris to stretch out his legs. The best thing was the radio in our cabin. It had only one channel and you could listen to a best of collection of eighties songs mixed with modern Russian techno pop. Fantastic. And it played all night full power on the corridors too.

Getting onto the train from Bukhara to Samarkand was quite difficult. Bukhara basically has two tracks running through the train station. Our train happened to stand behind another train that had arrived a bit earlier. So in order to get on our train we had to get right through the other train, which had the doors open on both sides. Easy, in theory. But Uzbek people are probably the most pushy species on Earth and they cannot, under any circumstances give way. Hence, if you have people wanting to get off a train and at the same time others trying to get on that particular train things become a little bit difficult. Especially if at the same time there are also bred and drink vendors hanging out at the train entrances as long as the train is standing in order to sell their goods. In short: total chaos. But once your rolling and the air-conditioning starts to work every thing is fine.

Monuments, monuments, monuments

Uzbekistan's ancient cities are just AMAZING! On June 17th we arrived in Bukhara coming by train from Khiva. Bukhara is "same same but different" to Khiva. It has a well preserved old town filled with many ancient mosques, minarets and medressas. Boris and I were absolutely impressed by the area around the Kalon Minaret. Standing in the middle of the small market square we looked up at the immense Kalon Mosque to one side and the Mir-i-Arab Medressa to the other side and felt like small ants. Bukhara was once the most important Islamic Center in Central Asia. And the Kalon Mosque was designed to be big enough for 10,000 people. The Soviets then turned it into a warehouse during their occupation. It´s really huge but today not much in happening here.

The Kalon Minaret was also impressive for us. First of course because of its great height of 47m and its wonderful design with many ornamental bands. It was constructed 1127 or so and is totally out of brick and mortar. Thanks to its 10m deep foundation, it has survived many earthquakes. Later on it also survived the Russian artillery bombing. On some historic photos we saw that the Minaret looked like Swiss cheese with lots of holes in its upper part.

Finally we were fascinated again by the blue tiles used for the roofs of the minarets and mosques and by the overall friendly and welcoming impression these tall monuments radiate. At the time these inspirational, advanced, light filled buildings were constructed (around 1200-1500 AD) we had quite some dark centuries in Europe leaving behind rather scary looking cathedrals and domes.

Rather scary looking here was however the ancient prison of Bukhara. It was a dungeon of around 11m of depth, of course without light. You could get thrown in here for a multitude of reasons such as not going to prayer at the mosque or not paying adequate respect to the Emir of Bukhara. This happened to the Englishmen Colonel Charles Stoddart and Captain Arthur Conolly in 1842: according to local lore they had neither presents not an official letter from the Queen for the Emir and he felt a bit bit dishonored. Interestingly enough the cell was named the "bug pit" and the mere sight of the dark dungeon sent shivers down our spines.

Bukhara is different to Khiva because it is not as compact and not so museum-like. To our pleasure it was much more lively. In the evening hours when the great heat of the day begins to cede, the plazas of the old town starts to fill with locals chattering and eating in the local restaurants. We of course participated in this tradition. We met up with the Shashlyk-Brothers (Horst and Simon), who had come to Bukhara directly from Tashkent. They had of course already discovered the restaurant serving the best kebab skewers.

On the morning of the 19th June Boris and I continued to Samarkand for a 24h look around before heading back to Tashkent. Again we visited some fantastic monuments. Our favorite site here was definitely Shah-i-Zinda, the avenue of mausoleums. It started with the grave of a cousin of the Prophet Mohamed, who is said to have brought Islam to Central Asia. Later Timor, the dictatorial ruler of Samarkand and his successors constructed a monumental complex with cool caves holding the tombs of their families and favorites. All the mausoleums are decorated with ornamental paintings and blue tiles.

Later in the evening we went to see the Registan, the most renown sight of the city. This was once Samarkand's commercial center and consists of a big Plaza framed by three giant Medressas, somewhat ancient business and trading centers.We had the privilege to climb the minaret of the Ulugbek Medressa on the western side. The monuments normally close at 7pm, but in Uzbekistan there are always a police officer running a little secret business with his gang of working colleges. We took his offer of 20 USD to climb the minaret tower, which is currently under construction just to have a good view onto the Registan in the light of the sunset. And the friendly policeman also offered us to have a look around in the Medressa afterwards - but no longer than 30 minutes :)

Khiva

The history of the Uzbekistan desert region is complex – too complex. There were the ancient Persian Empires, Alexander the Great, the Western Turks, the Arabs, Genghis Khan, the often forgotten English Empire and finally the Russians, all left their traces. These foreign powers changed the political boundaries and influenced the rivalry of the Silk Road cities. It will take us a while to understand it all. In the mean time we stick to William Cowper’s quote ”a dunce that has been sent to roam excels a dunce that has been kept at home”  or “Ein Dummer auf Reisen wird manchmal zum Weisen, ein Dummer zu Hause bleibt sicher Banause” and enjoy the historic sites. 

And Khiva is indeed amazing, and we understand why the Italian fellow we met back in Tashkent raved about it. The old city is well preserved. It is walled by a thick, high clay wall running all around it with decorated gates to all four directions. Of course the West gate, which points to Mecca is the main entrance and most decorated. The whole city is built of yellow mud bricks and the mosques and ancient madrassas are decorated with blue tiles varying from deep ocean blue to bright turquoise. The most prominent of all monuments is the Kuhna Arc, a fat, turquoise tilted minaret. The story behind this emblem of the ancient slave trading outpost is pretty funny:  The minaret is actually unfinished. It was supposed to become the highest minaret in the Orient permitting the ruling khan to see all the way to Bukhara, some 7 hours away. But when the khan died so to did his wealth and hence it became the world’s most famous (and probably the only) stumpy minaret. The advantage of its current form of course is that it fits on all postcards. 

 

Frozen in time amid the desert Khiva reminds us of an open air museum, which becomes a bit lifeless in the evening hours, once the tourist busses have left. These are the hours when Boris and I get active. From 11am to 5pm it's siesta time. The sun burns down so hard that it is absolutely impossible to wander around outside. But when the sun lowers its stand we start hunting: For best rugs at best prices, for the most famous monuments, for the best photo shots and afterwards for the best dinner. We found some really nice small, local places, which serve super Uzbek food in a cosy atmosphere.

Ancient forts of Khwarezm

Remembering that we are actually still traveling along the ancient Silk Road, Boris and I headed out to the visit see some of the ancient forts in the desert. The ancient highway running from Southern Europe to China is quite amazing: so many goods, religious and cultural ideas, and scientific knowledge have traveled along it. Silk and the art of paper making traveled from China to Europe, while horses, Buddhism and Mediterranean colored glass traveled from West to East.

In the middle of the ancient super highway lays the Khwarezm, a large region south of the Aral Sea bordered by the Kyzylkum desert and Karakum desert. Khwarezm is desert like, very hot and dry but it is full of small oases. They made it possible to travel through this region. A number of forts were operated here in order to provide nightly shelter and security for the travelers on the Silk Road. They were constructed around every 40km as this is the distance a camel can travel in one day.

Today the ruins of numerous forts and the castles of ancient kingdoms can be visited. Boris and I took a taxi from Khiva and drove around in the area for some hours, spotting not only ancient ruins, but also quite some wildlife. Even tough this region seems so life-forbidding we are able to sneak up on lizards, bugs and birds (or they sneak up on us). This little lizard was particularly cheeky. Full of self-confidence he rand towards us, stopped and bounced up and down standing only on his forelegs, and showing of his frightening black-and-white tail. Some of the ruins today provide ideal nesting for wonderfully colored birds. For us this little excursion was a welcoming change from traveling between the ancient towns of Khiva and Bukhara.

Planning a short trip within Uzbekistan

After two days in Tashkent sorting out bike logistics and airplane tickets Boris and I decided to leave the city and visit some of the ancient Silk Road cities of Uzbekistan. A stylish Italian business man staying at the same hotel shouted out “Khiva! You have to go to Khiva, it is the most beautiful of all”.

Trusting his advice we booked a flight to Khiva for the next evening. We also booked a flight further on from Kiva to Bukhara, but we later noticed that the dates were not correct. The travel agent had booked and printed 19th June instead of the 16th June. We went back to correct this mistake, but in the meantime all flights before the 19th had been cancelled. Because of high-ranking politicians visiting Tashkent we were told, apparently. And of course, as this was clearly our fault, we had to pay a cancellation fee for this flight.

The domestic airport was yet another weird experience in Uzbekistan. The lady at the check-in could not speak a word of English, but was happy to assist us in choosing our seats by showing us her pre-historic two-color computer screen. It displayed the airplane in a combination of the letters x, i and o for free, occupied and whatever seats. With such systems it is no wonder everything takes ages to get processed by the authorities! The lady would also have been of assistance for changing dollars into sum and giving us quite a good exchange rate. When it comes to money, and money changing Uzbekistan is particularly funny. There is a black market where you get pretty good exchange rates. But this market is not as clandestine as we imagine it; in fact everybody seems to be participating except the travel agencies.  Even the lady behind the official money exchange bureau in the airport (next to the police station) is surprised that she gets customers and that they want to change 200 USD in the official way. Uzbek Sum is worse than Lao Kip! For 1 USD you get about 1,725 to 2.400 Sum depending on the nature of the change (official or otherwise). And the biggest note is 1,000 Sum. This leads to literally carrying around bags of money. And money counting is an art that we are slowly mastering from the locals who are extremely fast at it.

Also not so lucky was the attempt of Boris to book the missing air ticket from Kiva to Bukhara at the airport. We wrote down all the details for the agent, she checked for availability, nodded and made us pay. Five minutes later finally understanding what the paper ticket actually stated we realized that she had booked Kiva-Tashkent for us and it took Boris another 20 minutes to resolve this error. We decided to catch the train for the way back:)

In the end all worked out well and we boarded a new Airbus A320.  Great flight with friendly hosts.

Rosie made it across the finish line

… and so did Horst’s black stallion: We made it to Tashkent! Yesterday evening (12. June) we rolled into Tashkent, after a hot day of riding from the Fergana Valley over the Kamchik pass into the well-watered plain that surrounds Uzbekistan’s capital. Especially on the last stretch of our ride it was very hot and along our route people jumped into the waters of irrigation channels or reservoir lakes. Quite tempting for us to join them, but somehow we could resist, we just had an urge to reach our final destination without any road incident at the last moment.

That said Uzbeks drive like complete lunatics! With people piling up in the back of their cars, they speed along the highways where overtaking is the absolute must-do if you want to be cool. The roads of course also make it possible as they are usually wide and in good conditions with separated lanes. Our bikes were truly exotic here and so the car drivers slowed down while overtaking us and in order to have a good close-up look they sometimes came so closed that we were worried about collision. But the car passengers always loved it, giving us big smiles, the thumbs-up and waving frantically out of the windows. Many even played the game of overtake and be overtaken again by us to get the most fun out of it.

However the greatest moments of fear in street traffic ever on this trip we all had last night sitting in a taxi coming back from dinner. That guy nearly drove into to car in front of him at the red light. We have no clue why he chose to break so late because it was obviously a red light. With a mm to spare we escaped without incident and the driver took it all in as a normal event.

Anyways, back to Rosie and the other two bikes. They all made it to Tashkent without any major incident. Rosie had this ticking sound of the motor all along the way and leaked a little oil. It worried us at first, but after we made it over the Chinese border we figured it might as well be fine for the entire trip. Horst's bike had a few electric problems like the handle-bar warmers not working (a luxury that Simon and Boris enjoyed very much up in Tibet), the front lights passing out in Shangri-La, or the trip computer which met his mark in Tibet. Simon's Jolly Jumper developed a severe drinking habit and consumed a lot of oil for a while and he is the most intolerance towards Central Asian dirty fuel. These minor issues gave the boys ample of opportunities to fiddle a bit around the bikes, which they love of course. They also gave us the change to meet nice people: every time we needed the help of a mechanics we found very competent people who were happy to help us out, let us use their tools and give us addresses of their biking friends in other cities along our way.

All in all our bikes now did about 12,300 km on this journey so far – more detailed stats to come when we are back to Vientiane. The road causality count is 3. Horst rode over a chicken back in Laos and caught a bird. Reacting like a stag-hound, after he hit the chicken we could witness Horst trying to get several more chooks under his tires. These bloodthirsty attacks gave him the nickname "the chook killer" thereafter. Boris also hit one very stupid bird and Simon got away with a handful of almost-collisions with dogs and an occasional sheep. We are happy that it stayed at the stage of almost-collisions and that nothing happened as we are not sure who would have won theses battles.

Horst and Boris are now organizing the shipment of their bikes back to Bangkok, Simon is preparing for the ride on to Uri, Switzerland and I am trying to update this blog which has been neglected over the past two weeks. As our bikes have to be left with DHL several days before shipment we are planning to visit some of the famous Uzbek cities by plane and train in the coming days.

Kyrgyzstan - land of yurts, horses and gold teeth

Lake Karakol

Bazaars of Kashgar

Bishkek in summer fashion

Bishkek we love you! Such a beautiful small and cozy country capital you are! It reminded me a little bit of my hometown the city of Biel in Switzerland. The first impression is not so good: a few big, ugly, rundown industrial buildings, concrete apartment blocks and some marble-faced government buildings in a damp 70ies style. But aside of these beauty spots the city is far from boring and it seems to have just awakened after a long sleep and is now out in the bright sun for all to see. Bishkek has wide streets flanked on both sides by narrow irrigation channels carrying fresh mountain water. Innumerable trees along the streets provide shade and separate the cars lanes from broad pedestrian walkways, children playgrounds and cycling paths.

In Bishkek everyone seems busy and innovative in the quest for making a living. The lovely family running our B&B for example also runs an Italian bakery and a car repair shop. It seems people do not fear new ventures and generally operate with a "have a go attitude'. That also includes cloths. The summer fashion must have arrived just a while ago and while lunching on Durum Kebabs we watch the chic business ladies pass by on the alley ways. The elder ladies, "big mamas", wear light skirts with flower motives - "Voegele Mode" at its best. We also witnessed many serious fashion crimes, topping even the best we had previously encountered in SE Asian cities. We see funny combinations of headscarves and super short skirts or an occasional belly bottom free top. High healed stilettos are an absolute must even if they make walking almost impossible. In the late evening hours everybody is out in the streets lined by cafes and stylish restaurants. They are backed up by rows and rows of Russian techno blasting night clubs where you can party on until the morning hours.

We didn't go and party but enjoyed fantastic Syrian food at a posh outdoor restaurant and exchanged travel stories with Chriggi and Koebi, an adventurous couple from Safneren closed to Biel who we met near Lake Song-Kol. Now traveling in a Landcruiser they have traveled the world on a motorbike 20 years ago and had some funny tales to share with us.

Cars and trucks of Kyrgyzstan

Do you live in Germany or Switzerland? Have you ever wondered where your old car ended up when in no longer passed the safety standards? When I turned in my beloved 1984 Volkswagen Golf the car dealer said two things: “Sorry, I can’t give you a reduction on your new car, but I will not make you pay for the old car, you are lucky” and “We’ll ship it to the East, probably Romania”.

Well, it could as well have been that my Golf was shipped even further, all the way over to Kyrgyzstan! What a change from China, where we saw only new cars and brands included many unknown ones from China itself, South Korea, or an occasional Toyota Hilux. Here in Kyrgyzstan we see old to very old cars, the former category made up by Volkswagen, Audi and BMW while the latter category included unknown Russian brands or of course Ladas.

The entire national overland-bus fleet seems to be made up by old Mercedes 14-seater minibuses, which are of course filled up with lot more people than there are seats. The origins of minibuses, small lorrys and also large trucks are unmistakably Switzerland, Germany and Sweden. This we quickly derived from the old advertisement-stickers which were never removed from the sides of the cars and windows. We see slogans like “Liebe Gruesse – Ihr Blumen Giesse”, or “Fenster-Scheiben-Tueren”, quite amusing for us of course. In Karakol we visited the local car market, situated right across the livestock market. There one can not only buy old cars, but also old to antique car parts. Every town in Kyrgyzstan in fact seems to have a small market for buying old European cars. 

With the proximity to China selling cheap new cars we were quite surprised to see so many European cars and yet so little Chinese ones. A Russian lad running the sauna-spa near Karakol explained this phenomenon in his own words. Apparently the new Chinese cars are not good, because the “klapper-klapper … boom-boom big problem”. So you start having a small problem which eventually develops into a big problem. Russian cars are much better. “Russian cars is always problem. But small problem. No big problem”. There you go, reason enough to go for the Lada 1600.

While pottering along the country roads we saw many vintage cars and tractors which almost belong into a museum rather than on the road and I was always looking out for that car holder with wet feet getting out of a Mars-red Golf with sunflower stickers in excitement to have a reunion with my beloved water leaking old car.

Feasting in Karakol

On the 4. June we reached Karakol on the southern side of lake Issyk-Kol. Karakol was another major milestone for all. We had read about so many different outdoor activities here in the beautiful mountainous setting that we planned to stay for a full three days. 

Karakol itself was already wonderful to hang out and relax. It’s quite a laid back little town where you have to search hard for the center. Some people say it is just another standard issue Sovjet town, basically a grid of broad streets and empty squares. That's partly true, but there is quite some beauty to it. The whole town seems like an accumulation of cute little white houses with sky-blue window frames set into large compounds with old fruit trees and vegetable gardens. The wide streets are bordered by huge old trees and colorful wild flowers. We stayed in a lovely slightly outdated B&B run by a resolute but very hospitable mama who cooked fantastic goulash soup for dinner and hearty breakfast. 

The best part of course was that we arrived in time for the season of apricots, cherries and strawberries! We bought about a kilo of each on the local market and consumed all in one sitting, so super tasty were the fruits. Boris now holds a new record for the amounts of non-tined cherries consumed in one session.  

While Horst and Simon decided to go up one of the famous valleys which led to a small resort where the combination of hot springs with cold mountain streams creates a natural sauna set up, Boris and I hopped back on the bike and headed for the other famous valley to visit the famous Jeti-Ögüz rock formations and to camp further up in the valley.

On the way up we detoured to hike to a beautiful waterfall. To get there we rode to a former cosmonaut rehabilitation center set in the lovely surroundings of a lush alpine meadow. As it was Sunday many Kyrgyz families also went for an outing in their old cars and we saw happy picnic groups all along the way. We also got held up by a bunch of totally drunken forestry guys who were celebrating the World Forestry Day. Concentrating hard on their words and posture they explained their activities in the surrounding forest plantations to us and invited us to drink with them. We fortunately could escape. It would have been hard to catch up to their alcohol level not to mention to keep up with the amounts they were drinking. We passed a number of yurt camps which were being set up for the summer season and found a beautiful camping spot along the river. Here our feasting continued with roasted chicken, fresh bread, and of course another round of fresh fruit and a most classy kitschy campfire.