No wind! Just bloody hot, must be in the high 30's at least. I puff and pant out of Shimkent, and I am presented with things I have not seen for a while, hills! As I proceed I find that I am riding through village after village. Kazakhstan changes after Shimkent and becomes populous. This gives me a new lease of life. I have things to look at, people to see! The scenery is greener with trees offering shade. I enjoy this ride greatly. I stop at Turar Rysqulov. My hotel is good, and has a pool! Too good to be true, and it was, the water is a funny green colour and I am expected to pay extra to swim. As I just wanted to plunge I decline and go for a walk around the town instead.
Thursday, 22 January 2015
Wednesday, 21 January 2015
Day 83
A frustrating start as the hotel staff in the earliness of my desired departure would not unlock the restaurant door and take me through to the back rooms where my bicycle had been safely stored. After patiently waiting and seemingly upsetting both receptionist and caretaker by wanting to leave the hotel at 7.30am I finally manage to escape.
Often when riding along people will stop and give me drinks and food. Today was no different. A lorry driver and his mate stopped and wanted to give me a watermelon! I had no where to place it on my bike, so we ate standing on the hard shoulder. It was very nice! The police in Kazakhstan are good fun as well. Often a passing police car will turn on its siren and lights, sometimes with the driver shouting "Hello, hello!" out of a megaphone! At lunch I stopped in a small town, and was given free ice tea by a shop keeper. The kindness of strangers!
My target for today was Shimkent, quite a big city and a meeting point for the east/west highway and the road that heads south to Uzbekistan and Tashkent. As I was riding I noticed that a not yet opened new road is running parallel to the narrow, bumpy, dusty old road. I decided to ride this new road. It was much easier and the road workers did not mind! I made Shimkent, quite late after dark and found a hotel on the edge of town.
Any scrap of shade is soon filled!
Lunchtime refreshment. The shopkeeper is on the right.
The new road, fast, flowing and empty!
Often when riding along people will stop and give me drinks and food. Today was no different. A lorry driver and his mate stopped and wanted to give me a watermelon! I had no where to place it on my bike, so we ate standing on the hard shoulder. It was very nice! The police in Kazakhstan are good fun as well. Often a passing police car will turn on its siren and lights, sometimes with the driver shouting "Hello, hello!" out of a megaphone! At lunch I stopped in a small town, and was given free ice tea by a shop keeper. The kindness of strangers!
My target for today was Shimkent, quite a big city and a meeting point for the east/west highway and the road that heads south to Uzbekistan and Tashkent. As I was riding I noticed that a not yet opened new road is running parallel to the narrow, bumpy, dusty old road. I decided to ride this new road. It was much easier and the road workers did not mind! I made Shimkent, quite late after dark and found a hotel on the edge of town.
Any scrap of shade is soon filled!
Lunchtime refreshment. The shopkeeper is on the right.
The new road, fast, flowing and empty!
Day 82
Feeling much better today. I venture out to explore the sites of Turkistan. A small city but famous for the Mausoleum of Khwaja Ahmad Yasavi, a Turkic poet and Sufi, and other Silk Road architectural attractions. I enjoy walking around the sights, and I am also glad that my hotel is near as I am still not feeling 100%!
The Mausoleum of Khwaja Ahmad Yasavi
My hotel from the same spot!
The Mausoleum of Khwaja Ahmad Yasavi
My hotel from the same spot!
Day 81
Not much today. Feeling very sick I spend most of the day sleeping. I have a bit of a walk in the morning to buy some food and again in the evening.
Day 80
Refreshed I have breakfast at the same coffee shop where I had lunch the day before. I then head out again, towards Turkistan. Turkistan is about 290kms from Kyzlorda, so I plan to do it in two days. There are a few towns en route so I feel that I should be able to find some accommodation. But things do not feel normal today. I start off feeling fine but start to feel weaker as the ride progresses. I stop for a nap in a bus shelter. I feel better for a while, but after 60kms things do not feel good at all and I am violently sick. I have food poisoning. I put it down to a dodgy sausage thing that I had for breakie.
I stop again in a bus shelter about 2 kms after I was sick. I feel as weak as a kitten. The nearest town is about 40kms ahead of me but I am not sure what is there. Turkistan I know has accommodation but that is another 230kms away. I think about camping but decide against it. I feel terrible. So I wave a white flag and stick my thumb out. Hopefully an empty lorry will pass that I can get a ride on.
Hitching proves to be mercifully easy. After about 20 minutes a lorry stops that has space. I chuck my bicycle and things in the back and climb into the cab with the driver and mate. Unfortunately I am not good company. Top thoughts on my mind are not being sick again and the distance it is from here to Turkistan. Fortunately the lorry driver is good, and travels swiftly. Every time we pass a police car driver and mate give a sarcastic wave. The driver asks where I am from and points out lorries from all over the region as we head down the road. Feeling terrible I struggle to stay awake. Rude I know when hitching but the last thing I wanted to do was vomit in his cab. We make a big truck stop on the edge of Turkistan by about 10pm, I thank him profusely and head into town. I don't get far before I have to be sick again, but by about 11.30pm I find a hotel and sleep.
I stop again in a bus shelter about 2 kms after I was sick. I feel as weak as a kitten. The nearest town is about 40kms ahead of me but I am not sure what is there. Turkistan I know has accommodation but that is another 230kms away. I think about camping but decide against it. I feel terrible. So I wave a white flag and stick my thumb out. Hopefully an empty lorry will pass that I can get a ride on.
Hitching proves to be mercifully easy. After about 20 minutes a lorry stops that has space. I chuck my bicycle and things in the back and climb into the cab with the driver and mate. Unfortunately I am not good company. Top thoughts on my mind are not being sick again and the distance it is from here to Turkistan. Fortunately the lorry driver is good, and travels swiftly. Every time we pass a police car driver and mate give a sarcastic wave. The driver asks where I am from and points out lorries from all over the region as we head down the road. Feeling terrible I struggle to stay awake. Rude I know when hitching but the last thing I wanted to do was vomit in his cab. We make a big truck stop on the edge of Turkistan by about 10pm, I thank him profusely and head into town. I don't get far before I have to be sick again, but by about 11.30pm I find a hotel and sleep.
Day 78 and 79
A day for things to go wrong. Packed and ready to leave very early a gear cable snaps. I don't have a spare. I try to make a bodge job, open up my pannier only to find that my apple juice has burst leaking 1 liter of sweet sugary juice all over my clothes and possessions. Hrrumph. Not unsurprisingly my bodge job fails. So I ride with just the front cog into town to try and find a cycle shop. Happily I find one, but the only gear cables the shop have is a complete set with twister grips and handle grips for a kids bike. Never the less I buy it, remove the cable and give the rest of it back to the shop keeper. I find that changing the cable is not as difficult as I had first imagined and leave Toretai a good few hours later than planned, with the now heat and wind of the day as ever present company.
But today the wind is stronger than ever. dangerously strong every time a lorry passes. The suction from passing lorries is so strong that riding is becoming not only scary but bloody dangerous. I find a cafe, head inside, eat, drink, chat with lorry drivers and develop a plan.
I remember what the Stuttgart cyclist had told me the day before. I feel that a night ride is the only option. No wind, no sun, less heat. So I sit in the cafe for three hours and wait for the sun to set.
This starts of as a good plan. An hour or so before sunset I leave the cafe and hit the road. Already the wind has dropped massively and I can ride swiftly and safely. I ride on after sunset and press on over the desert. After 60kms or so I stop for a rest. But it turns out not to be a rest. I start to drink only to notice that I am being bitten alive by mosquitoes. As soon as I stop they can land an latch on to me. I drink quickly, stuff some food own my neck and head off. I know that Kyzlorda is a long way from here, and I do not fancy camping with the swarms. Also I need to make some miles as my visa is finite and Kazakhstan very large.
I press on until after midnight. I am beginning to get very tired. At about 1am the nice smooth road ends and turns into a dust track. The nice new road is not finished, so I press on breathing in dust and fumes of passing lorries and cars. I notice a distance post that says 100km to Kyzlorda. I choose not to believe it. I feel sure that I have gone further, and signposts here are not reliable.
I was wrong, the sign was right. After a few hours of switching between dust road and new road finally I reach the completed new road. Not without a certain amount of stubbornness however as twice I turned down a lift in passing vans. Kazakh hospitality again! I can also hear wild dogd howling in the distance. In my tiredness I start to get a little paranoid and wonder what would happen if they decide to chase. Sounds silly when I recall this and type, but I guess I have never pushed myself like this before and the brain can do funny things when tired.
At dawn I pass a sign that says 48km to Kyzlorda. I believe this one, but I am utterly exhausted, I have ridden 200kms in 20 hours without sleep. I can't stop as within a few hours the sun will be high and camping impossible due to the heat. So I carry on, cursing each peddle rotation and trying to not look at the distance markers to Kyzlorda. I finally make the edge of town. It is not that impressive a town. I cycle into the centre. Spend another hour trying to find a nice part of town. Everywhere looks the same and I curse my indecision. Being this tired has clearly affected my decision making abilities! I cycle back to a plain area that has pricey hotels and book in. The room is lovely. It is more like a little flat with bedroom, living room and bathroom. I spend the rest of the morning asleep on the sofa.
I wake after lunch still exhausted but starving. I eat at the coffee shop next door and then return to sleep. I repeat this in the evening, find a cafe and order soup. Central Asian soup is foul. And this was a great example. The cafe owners seemed very proud of the soup, which was essentially boiling water poured over beef fat with some veggies thrown in for good measure. I can't eat it and leave and find something better.
But today the wind is stronger than ever. dangerously strong every time a lorry passes. The suction from passing lorries is so strong that riding is becoming not only scary but bloody dangerous. I find a cafe, head inside, eat, drink, chat with lorry drivers and develop a plan.
I remember what the Stuttgart cyclist had told me the day before. I feel that a night ride is the only option. No wind, no sun, less heat. So I sit in the cafe for three hours and wait for the sun to set.
This starts of as a good plan. An hour or so before sunset I leave the cafe and hit the road. Already the wind has dropped massively and I can ride swiftly and safely. I ride on after sunset and press on over the desert. After 60kms or so I stop for a rest. But it turns out not to be a rest. I start to drink only to notice that I am being bitten alive by mosquitoes. As soon as I stop they can land an latch on to me. I drink quickly, stuff some food own my neck and head off. I know that Kyzlorda is a long way from here, and I do not fancy camping with the swarms. Also I need to make some miles as my visa is finite and Kazakhstan very large.
I press on until after midnight. I am beginning to get very tired. At about 1am the nice smooth road ends and turns into a dust track. The nice new road is not finished, so I press on breathing in dust and fumes of passing lorries and cars. I notice a distance post that says 100km to Kyzlorda. I choose not to believe it. I feel sure that I have gone further, and signposts here are not reliable.
I was wrong, the sign was right. After a few hours of switching between dust road and new road finally I reach the completed new road. Not without a certain amount of stubbornness however as twice I turned down a lift in passing vans. Kazakh hospitality again! I can also hear wild dogd howling in the distance. In my tiredness I start to get a little paranoid and wonder what would happen if they decide to chase. Sounds silly when I recall this and type, but I guess I have never pushed myself like this before and the brain can do funny things when tired.
At dawn I pass a sign that says 48km to Kyzlorda. I believe this one, but I am utterly exhausted, I have ridden 200kms in 20 hours without sleep. I can't stop as within a few hours the sun will be high and camping impossible due to the heat. So I carry on, cursing each peddle rotation and trying to not look at the distance markers to Kyzlorda. I finally make the edge of town. It is not that impressive a town. I cycle into the centre. Spend another hour trying to find a nice part of town. Everywhere looks the same and I curse my indecision. Being this tired has clearly affected my decision making abilities! I cycle back to a plain area that has pricey hotels and book in. The room is lovely. It is more like a little flat with bedroom, living room and bathroom. I spend the rest of the morning asleep on the sofa.
I wake after lunch still exhausted but starving. I eat at the coffee shop next door and then return to sleep. I repeat this in the evening, find a cafe and order soup. Central Asian soup is foul. And this was a great example. The cafe owners seemed very proud of the soup, which was essentially boiling water poured over beef fat with some veggies thrown in for good measure. I can't eat it and leave and find something better.
Day 77
Today I felt grumpy all morning. The wind is now beginning to frustrate me. In my face all day long. And when a lorry either overtakes or passes from the other direction the turbulence off the back of these things makes riding feel like I am going through an ocean wave, on a bicycle, pulling me in all directions like a spinning top. Bah!
I made it to Toreti/Baykoner in the early afternoon and found a hotel on the main road. Exhausted and having had enough I decide to stop. Tired I try the door to find it is locked. I can hear voices inside so I knock. At which point a rather rude voice shouts something unwelcoming in Kazakh towards me. I try again only this time to have the door swung open, more shouts and then the door slammed shut. Not the best I muse, so I head into town to try and find somewhere to stop for the night.
Toreti is a depressing one street town with a very dusty market in the centre and not much else. I find the train station and hope to find something there but fail. Baykoner is just a couple of kms down the road so I think that I will try there. However this being Space Town it has a military guard on the road leading into the town, and I am not allowed in. Apparently there is a hotel in there somewhere. But you need special permission just to get in. I give up and plan to try the grumpy place instead.
This time I get in. She has calmed down a little and has decided to let guests in. I am joined by a fellow cyclist who looks rather the worse for wear. He is exhausted and has had enough of the heat and wind and now only cycles at night. We talk and I find out that he is from Stuttgart and he has cycle Kazakhstan before, but wants to complete this southern section so he can say he has ridden from one end to the other. A few years ago he rode from Stuttgart to Cameroon, with Nigeria being a particular favourite destination.
Part of the Baykoner Cosmodrome that is visible from the main east/west M 32 highway. Baykoner town is located about 5kms to the south.
I made it to Toreti/Baykoner in the early afternoon and found a hotel on the main road. Exhausted and having had enough I decide to stop. Tired I try the door to find it is locked. I can hear voices inside so I knock. At which point a rather rude voice shouts something unwelcoming in Kazakh towards me. I try again only this time to have the door swung open, more shouts and then the door slammed shut. Not the best I muse, so I head into town to try and find somewhere to stop for the night.
Toreti is a depressing one street town with a very dusty market in the centre and not much else. I find the train station and hope to find something there but fail. Baykoner is just a couple of kms down the road so I think that I will try there. However this being Space Town it has a military guard on the road leading into the town, and I am not allowed in. Apparently there is a hotel in there somewhere. But you need special permission just to get in. I give up and plan to try the grumpy place instead.
This time I get in. She has calmed down a little and has decided to let guests in. I am joined by a fellow cyclist who looks rather the worse for wear. He is exhausted and has had enough of the heat and wind and now only cycles at night. We talk and I find out that he is from Stuttgart and he has cycle Kazakhstan before, but wants to complete this southern section so he can say he has ridden from one end to the other. A few years ago he rode from Stuttgart to Cameroon, with Nigeria being a particular favourite destination.
Part of the Baykoner Cosmodrome that is visible from the main east/west M 32 highway. Baykoner town is located about 5kms to the south.
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