The chain gang

Woke to the sound of dogs barking at 5am ....

Quite a selection.

Today's plan was really to do nothing but walk around the old City and relax.... but no sooner had I finished breakfast, I went to check the bike over.  Well firstly it was filthy dirty, so I thought I would at least try and locate a car wash.

And then I kept looking at that chain ... it really was making some funny noises, and was needing adjusting on a daily basis.

So after a few more hours in the hotel air conditioning, mid-afternoon, I braved the heat and rode around the city, to find a tyre depot and car wash side by side.  Jeremy had his front tyre changed and I got the bike cleaned.  But it was no point in putting that chain off any more.   On the way down, I had clocked this small metal fabrication shop,  I knew they would have an angle grinder to cut the old chain off, so paid him a visit on the way back.

I picked up his grinder, showed him what I wanted to do, and he let me get on with it .... but with every passing minute, more and more people gathered.

Soon I was surrounded, and before long, people wanted to help.  My tools we being moved, parts were being inspected, GPS being prodded, and helmets tried on.  I was again, getting angry at their good intentions but clear lack of understanding how important it was not to mess with my stuff.

Eventually I had the new chain on, but two bolts carefully placed in a cover, were missing because some irk had picked it up to look at, not realising the bolts were there, and now were buried in the sand somewhere.
My helmet, had now also been moved from its place of relative safety, to the direct line of fire of a shower of grinding sparks.

So jumped up to rescue that first, then combed the sand to find the missing bolts.  I think the expression on my face, conveyed my feelings, and one by one, they retreated to a safe distance.

With the sprocket cover back on, and all my tools counted back in, I tried to offer some money, but they wouldn't take it.

Parted with a lot of smiles and handshakes .... and a quiet chain.

The evening was a carbon copy of the day before, with bed at a reasonable hour, as we had a lot of ground to cover the next day.

Clouds, and silver linings

Woke to a strange empty house, no-one up, and no benzine in sight ....

It had not materialised despite the cafe owners assurance, so eventually the youngsters started to surface, and we finally got a coffee served by the owners daughter... evidently Papa was still asleep after a heavy night. 

Butter wouldn't melt .... yeah, right !

So we started to evaluate our options (basically none)....  as I had the most fuel, the plan was I would ride around and try to find some, leaving Jeremy at the cafe. But, just before I left, I had one more go at the daughter... “wake Papa, where benzine” I said. She went into Papa's room, to which I was expecting a hung-over Uzbekei to then appear from, but instead simply walked out with 10 litres.

Yes, I know … why didn't he leave it out, why didn't we get it the night before, why, why... I simply don't know. So, problem resolved, we settle our bill after an argument over the exchange rate with the daughter, and head out for the 60 miles to Nukus, where more fuel and a money exchange wait … hopefully !

Barren landscapes

Arriving at high noon and 38 degrees C, we ride from Bank to Bank, go through the body search each time, passport check, just to join a queue to be told “Sorry not here, try another bank”. Back into the heat to walk or ride to another bank. It's hard to explain the feeling when you think, if I can't get money, I can't get fuel, or food. I can't go back, or on. Nobody takes credit cards... its a strange one. 

But this is when the unexpected happens ….

I stopped to ask for directions to the fifth bank I'm going to try and this well dressed chap starts to tell me, when he asks why ?  “Exchange money” I say.  His English is reasonable, and turns out he works for the Uzbekistan Finance Ministry. He explains the banks have been stopped from changing foreign currency, BUT he needs US Dollars, and we need their Soon (money).

So his brother turns up in a car, we follow to meet another man … I get in the back of the car, and the deal is done. It's a better rate that the banks, that's all I know. But the physical size of the stack of notes is daunting ….

Just over £100

I decline to count them... and he becomes my best friend.  Now I'm on a roll, so I ask him for help with Benzine … Yup, follow him to another brother, and we fuel up from bottles in some side street. 

Now I have three good friends... but it doesn't stop there. Salamat (first name terms now), invites us to his house where his wife has prepared a meal. We follow, and the hospitality was incredible. It was so nice to see how they live, and after the crap that morning, sometimes you just gotta have faith that something will work out eventually.

Salamat, his wife,, father, and the brothers.

After the statutory photo session and exchanging of e-mails, we head out for the 4 hours to Khiva, and a rest day. Leaving town, I get caught in a speed trap... this time, we had a plan, inspired by a trailer for a movie we saw a few nights earlier …. “Dumb, and Dumber”. It worked, smiles, blank expressions, and laughter …. it got us out of having to give them a “souvenir” as they describe it.

The road to Khiva was tolerable, good in places, poor in others … but always straight. I suppose when you build a road in the desert, you don't have to go around anything … so build it straight. Can you imagine driving 200 miles without having to use the brakes once... Hmmm , some of my old biker mates probably can !

And at Khiva, a nice hotel, with a good bog and shower … all I needed …. desperately !

It's an old walled city on the Silk Road, and really impressive.  We go and eat there in the evening, and here is a small selection of photos (click on any photo to enlarge)....

 More old cities tomorrow ....

When the going gets tough

Earlier starts are now becoming the norm, and today, we we ride to the Uzbekistan border, and the rumoured strip searches.....

Beynau was our last opportunity to fill up before the wastes of Uzbekistan and we stopped at the last petrol station to fill every receptacle we could find. Basically I have now become a mobile bomb.

Pothole city

Telegraph Road ... were Dire Straits here once.

Heading out, the 50 miles to the border is horrendous, with the road deteriorating into a pothole riddled gravel strewn track.... despite the fact this is a “E-” road.  Cars and trucks weave about with careless abandon, and you overtake at your peril. Naturally size matters, and they don't give a shit when they pass you leaving clouds of dust. 

Talking of dust, poor old Jeremy eat some a few miles after leaving, when something passed him, and obscured the giant sand pit in the middle of the road. Ever caring me … well, I found a quicker pace suited the conditions, and was about 5 miles further up the road when the incident occurred. As I rode back to find him, the speed and stance indicated something was wrong !

The bike was fine, but he suspected a broken finger. My first aid skills are generally of a verbal nature … “I broke mine once, and it was fine the next morning,” I said.  I omitted the fact that later the next day, when it had been X-rayed, I was admitted into hospital for an operation and had to stay overnight! 

There wasn't much else we could do but carry on …. don't forget our visa's are all one entry, so we simply just can't turn around. The doors close behind you on an adventure like this.

The Uzbekistan border was crowded, and we pushed to the front and waited. A soldier motioned that we could follow the next lorry in, which we did … the car behind then followed us. The soldier went mental with him, and we learned … do exactly as you are told. If they say come forward 10 cms, that's all you move.

This was as far as we could push-in.

All told, is was about a 4 hour process, and they did ask us to unpack virtually everything in front of them, on a dusty concrete surface. You dare not argue, just smile, and do it, and worry about re-packing later. It was at this stage that I realised there are some benefits to the “scrunch it in” method of packing that I use, as opposed to Jeremy's meticulous well thought out system ! The drawback of course, is that I tend to look like a tramp in the evenings !

So all cleared, we motor on, to a Police check … get out, do the usual small talk, show the documents for the 50^th time that day, then ride on.

Water was getting an issue later in the day, but luckily we found a lady selling it by the roadside.... suppose child labour laws are just not here yet !

The roads improved slightly the further East we travelled, but as always, the tarmac melts and leaves massive ruts which can catch you out. With the shadows getting long in the day, and fuel short, we have to find somewhere to stop. I sway Jeremy into staying in Kungrad, rather than risk riding another 60 miles at dusk, to Nukas.

The problem in Uzbekistan is that there are no fuel stations that sell Petrol (Benzine). We don't really know why, but its something to do with there not being enough in the country, so its not distributed in the West, as long as they can sell all they have near the Capitol city in the East. However, there is the black market, and soon we found this cafe, that not only could get us benzene, but feed us and give us a room for the night.

It would do, we agreed, and lets just say it was basic... very basic. Got fed some soup and bread, and settled down on our really comfy mats for the night! At least they had beer … 11% abv, if the label is true, which helped in accepting our less than salubrious position.

Before bed we were shown the shower and toilet facilities … well, sometimes you just gotta stay dirty..... and the poo can wait ! Got some rest that night, but it wasn't a lot.

Beyneu, the one-horse town

Enjoyed a nice breakfast, and bless her … the receptionist had spent some time on Google, writing down a translation of the menu for us. Got on our way around 9am, a lot of miles to do today...

But first, Jeremy needed water, and I went for the Kazakhstan Red Bull equivalent … Yeti !

The adventure is getting a bit tougher now … longer days, more miles, rougher roads, and lack of petrol. The scenery is, well, the same … sand. Sometimes its difficult not to fall asleep while riding, but the MP3 player helps a lot in situations like this.

Lunch becomes a Snickers bar and a soft drink in a petrol station … and you carry on, with the occasional camel to break the monotony. The roads are generally good in Kazakhstan, but the odd pothole will catch you out if not careful.

Rutted tarmac such as this can catch you out.

We are heading for Beyneu (sometimes spelt Beynau), which the last town before Uzbekistan. We don't have a hotel booked, but there are a few showing on the map ! 

Most towns have a concrete sculpture to signify their name.

A "posh" graveyard

 

So typical ... straight for miles.

As we ride into town we spot a new hotel not on the map … looks great so we stop and … its closed. The workmen sleeping rough inside indicates its about 2-3 weeks away from completion. Shame, it would have been the best in town.

Arriving Beynau

Beynau is a bit like a Wild west town, with dust streets, boarded up houses, and possibly an undertaker somewhere. It might not have been technically “one-horse”, but there were quite a few donkeys & carts in use. 

We ride around and check our list of “hotels” out, eventually settling on the Dymah Hotel which is probably the best of a bad bunch. A lady with more gold in her teeth than South Africa, smiles and welcomes us. It's a bed for the night, and while the hot water and the Wi-Fi prove elusive, we are too tired to care.

I won't eat there on principle, so find a local cafe close by, and after some nosh and a couple of beers, hit the sack.

Sunset in Beynau.

Tomorrow we enter Uzbekistan.

Hello, Borat

Today we needed an early start, but all the best laid plans … rose at 6am, but by the time we retrieved and packed the bikes, it was gone 7am as we left. We had a long ride to Atyrau today, but the major issue was the Kazakhstan border and the unknown waiting time. Add to that, was the unpredictable road surface.

About 30 minutes later, we suddenly get to a floating bridge.... and you had to pay a toll. I had left all my last Roubles in the room for the cleaner ! Fortunately Jeremy was not so generous, and still had some. It was a strange feeling crossing the water with the “road” moving underneath you.

Next the border … pushed to the front of the relatively small queue as we do, and got ushered through by the guards. As sociable as they seem, don't even try to take a photo  that's a big no, no! 

It's a strange system, you clear Russia, then get given a tiny 25 x 50mm scrap of recycled paper with a stamp on ...and told not to lose it.

Then you ride about 5 mins to the crest of a bridge where there is a Russian guard one side, and a Kazakh guard the other. At this height, the wind is blowing hard, so you very carefully look for that scrap of paper, shielding the wind with everything possible. I don't know the consequences if it blew away … maybe you would be trapped in a no-mans land and perish slowly in the heat.

Approaching the border...

And we are in.

I give him my slip, ride across the bridge, and the reverse occurs the other side. We then enter Kazakhstan formally, and after buying insurance and changing a little money, the whole process took a relatively quick, 2 hours.

 And within 500 mtrs, the first Police check. More checking, more smiles, but I think at least this one didn't ask for money.

Rode through some villages, expecting to see Borat at any time, and then we came across camels … bloody loads of them. A bit like the New Forest I suppose … they just wander anywhere and everywhere.

Got to Atyrau and this is another hotel where they can't get their GPS co-ordinates right … OK, only 500 mts out, but that's a long way when you are tired, hot, and fighting rush hour traffic. Fortunately our “little boys lost” look worked well, and an English speaking chap (who turned out to be the Service Mgr at the main Subaru dealership) knew the hotel, and offered to lead the way. Outside the hotel, we said thanks and I took his business card …. usually I would have chucked it, but for some reason, kept it …. and guess what … it came in useful later on !

Showered up, we changed some money, eat in the hotel, and I think we were both glad of an early night.

Astrakhan rest day

Couple of things I had to to today … new tyres for the bike, and a haircut for me ….

After a late evening spent increasing the receptionists English vocabulary, I woke to the hotel breakfast.... a knock on the door and it came served on a tray. It was cold mashed potato and sausage … quite an ordeal first thing in the morning.

So, hooked up with Jeremy and we retrieved the bikes from the “lock-up” and rode around to the the bike shop. Now I assumed that as they sold a plethora of bikes, the shop might have a workshop somewhere … no ! 

Jeremy had decided to carry both his tyres and change them at a later date, but for me, I had to do the front, and would carry the rear. Influencing this decision was the news that due to some major flooding in Tibet last week, many bridges had been washed out and our mileage in China might increase dramatically. Hence the plan now became to enter China with as much tread as possible.

Anyway, the bike shop cleared me a space and I took the front wheel out, where we carried it to a bunch of monkeys in a local car tyre place. They had not got a clue about changing bike tyres, and half way through attempting to change mine, I lost my rag, and took over. They were trying to fit the tube after both beads were on, using a powered machine.  The rim tape had already been dislodged, and the tube was about to get mullered ... like I said, Monkeys.

So, all done to my satisfaction, back to the bike shop, refit the wheel, then back to the hotel for a shower. Now for the haircut ! Rode around, and you can not believe the amount of cops just waiting for a chance to pull you over … I mean I counted 7 cops on one 4-way junction... waiting. Like a tiger stalks his prey.

And then there are the Yellow Minibuses … just like Thai Tuk-Tuks, but bigger. A right pain in the arse, and a law unto themselves.... and of course, bigger than me, so they get the right of way !

Anyway, no dramas with the hair … found a hairdresser, gesticulated a bit, and it was done … £4. Can't complain. New tyre and a new look … mission accomplished.

More grasslands

Not much to say about today ....

The Bike Post hotel, was not a good experience and there were better options in the City .... its just this was the only one on booking.com at the time.

Of minor interest to some is that they had a very old BMW motorcycle in the lounge, but it really was in the "early" stages of renovation.

Got on our way and it was just more of the same barren scenery.  In fairness, the sun was shining, the roads empty, and I had a fresh set of MP3 tracks blasting away in the headphones .... quite enjoyable really.

Then in the middle of no-where, we just might have gone through a speed trap ... Jeremy did the talking this time.... or rather didn't.  The constant shrugs, and not understand gestures got us off with a warning (I think).

So head down for 3-4 more hours of this....

... until we arrived in Astrakhan, to find the Safari Hotel ... although the rooms were nice, it was not in one of the best locations.

Jeremy was worried about the bikes, but they did find us a lock-up garage 100 mts away, which helped.  Returning back to the hotel, I noted 2 Jacuzzi's in the basement, complete with waterproof Karaoke machines. Now that intrigued me!

This was the city where we both had ordered a fresh set of tyres.  The bike shop had moved since we placed the order, fortunatly only to a new location in the next street to our hotel. So we paid them a visit, and peering through the window, were pleased to see our tyres there and waiting.

The dilemma now is that we both still have a lot of tread left on the existing rubber .... carry or fit ?  Decisions, decisions ... something to sleep on.