Writing this I’m already in China. And let me tell you, this place is crazy. I’m still just a couple of days into the country, but I could already burst open from all the stories I’m longing to tell you. Not to mention those from my time in Kyrgyzstan.
However, I’ll stick to sharing my journey chronologically – and by now I think we’ve all come to realise that I’ll never get completely up to date with these posts. I guess that’s the price we’ll collectively have to pay in order for me to collect the stories in the first place.
Unfortunately this last post from Tajikistan doesn’t have a lot of stories. None at all actually. But I simply refuse to go on without first telling you guys about the most majestic part this country has to offer. The ride between Murghab and the border to Kyrgyzstan takes place on this completely surreal mountain plateau, and I basically spent this last week of riding on higher altitude than I’ve ever been on before in my life.
And I loved it.
Which is the reason to why I really want to share some of the good bits from this week with you.
I’ll try to make this one short but sweet.
–
Before being able to set off from Murghab you need to arrive there. When I did, I was yet again in the company of Karin and Fritz. This time we had also hooked up with another European couple – Marianne and Tomas from Switzerland. Our paths had been criss crossing all through the country and here – for once – we were all hooking up with perfect timing.
Short side track: When I eventually came down from the mountains, I found an inbox full of messages from people wondering why they didn’t hear anything from the road. Basically this photo sums it all up pretty well.
Electricity in general, and internet in particular was not part of this ride. This is how we handled the communication in between cyclists (this one to Marianne and Tomas who were a day or so behind us). And the communication to home, we simply didn’t (couldn’t) handle at all.
Believe it or not but this actually worked amazingly well
Reunion dinner with beer, chairs and knives. All things we hadn’t seen for weeks.
Murghab is the regional capital in Eastern Tajikistan. A region capital that by the time of our visit had been without electricity for three months. A couple of days here made the poverty and lack of everything from crops to running water in the region even more obvious than before.
The city has a more than unique bazaar where all the shops are run in different sized containers. Maybe doesn’t look like much, and by most references it wasn’t. But then and there, after a few weeks on the Pamiri diet of dry bread, tea and camp stove plov this was more than enough to leave us smiling from ear to ear. It’s amazing what a bag of apples and a few onions can do for one’s mood.
By far the number 1 fruit stand at the bazaar
Leaving Murghab the Pamir mountains offered us a little bit of just about everything.
We met yaks who were doing well…
….and those who weren’t.
Some days were absolutely beautiful…
…and some were not. (This from the beginning of my first ever combined snow & sandstorm)
Slowly we were making our way up to the clouds, and by now also the daytime riding required a few more layers of clothing than before. So far the top passes we had done were on around 4 200 meters. Now we were suddenly camping on the same altitude.
I don’t think I need to tell you that the cooking and night time hanging out in these surroundings is incredible. It’s chilly, sure. But the views always make every degree lost seem like a small price to pay.
Though once you close your tent at night the sacrifice suddenly feels a lot bigger. You still know that that crazy night sky is there right above your head. That the mountains are still enveloping you in that same big panoramic embrace. That you’re in the Pamirs. But inside the tent, it’s just cold. Like Sweden cold.
For a few nights I felt like I was time travelling back to the beginning of my trip. Yet again I was stuffing my pockets with my camera batteries to avoid the cold from draining them during the night. Half-heartedly I was navigating the phone with my nose just to be able to keep the gloves on. The sleeping bag didn’t only have to keep me warm, but also any bottle of water I would like to still have liquid when waking up.
In short, falling asleep was quite… refreshing.
And waking up was as well.
No cold in the world could make this ride not worth it though! Believe me.
On top of Ak-Baital Pass, 4 655 ASL
In this last one Karin & I were coming down the last one of our 10 Tajik passes. Apart from the border to Kyrgyzstan, which is a pass in itself, we were done. We had conquered the Pamir Highway – every last bit of it.
How I felt about it?
Like a kid coming off her first roller coaster ride just to run as fast as she can to queue up for another go.
The difference was that I couldn’t. It was really finished. The ride I’d been dreaming of for so long was now over, and I could feel the post Pamir blues already before even leaving the mountains. I had so much to look forward to. Kyrgyzstan, for starters. But then and there, I wasn’t able to.
This would soon come to change of course. How and why – I’ll tell you about in the next one.
Fredrika