Tajikistan

The reason why this trip is so big and stupid is in part due to lingering disappointment from last year. I had planned to go away on my bike and do a loop of the Mediterranean sea. But when all the north African and middle eastern countries heard I was coming they quickly overthrew their governments to ensure I could not. And now, guess what? That's right. I've been at it again. I've managed to cause another war.

Just before I left Samarkand I heard that their had been fighting in a town called Khorog on the Pamir Highway. There was no way to avoid this town if I was to go to the Pamirs. The official story is that a high ranking security official was murdered in the town so the government decided an appropriate and proportional response was to send in the entire army and leave 200 civilians dead on the streets. But of course while both of those things are true, neither one of them is at all important. This whole situation was about drug money.

I sat around in Dushanbe for a couple of day trying to get information. It was pretty slow in coming but eventually we got word that Khorog and the rest of the Pamir highway had once again been opened. So I set off.

Just a word about the roads in Tajikistan. The first hundred or so km was really perfect tarmac. But then the tarmac sort of disappeared for 100m, then came back for 100m, then disappeared and came back again every 100m for mile after mile. It was slightly odd, but then I discovered this.

That is a pile of road. It has been scraped off and dumped on the verge leaving the foundations exposed.

Not that that is the worst thing about the tarmac here. This is what happens when I try to park.

And I get to some town called Kolyob. Because I had been so late in leaving Dushanbe I had to stay for the night. I was pretty much the centre of attention. They don't really get much tourism so I had all these people around me and before long was being fed and watered.

The next day was all off road. There was a mountain pass to get over and then down into the Panj valley.

I stopped in some town for a second and some guy invited me back to his house for lunch. Was a good thing since I didn't have any food and there weren't any shops around here. We couldn't really talk but that didn't matter. We just laughed at each others bad sign language.

The Panj river. The left hand bank is Tajikistan. The right hand is Afghanistan

Typical Afghan house

Mud brick houses in Afghanistan

I stopped for the night in Khalaikhum. The next day I tried to leave only to run into the army 5 kms outside the village. They made me turn around and no amount of negotiating or bribing would change their minds. So I had to turn around and head back to Dushanbe. It was particularly frustrating because I knew that 2 other bikers had gotten through just the day before I was there.

But I had no choice. To make up for no being able to get their I took the other road back to Dushanbe. The one that I was told not to take under any circumstances because it is so horrible.

Actually it was quite nice.

At the top of the pass there was an army checkpoint. They all looked quite nervous about something. The first guy was very eager to wave his rifle around as I approached. In the hills on the other side of the road there was a sniper nest. A couple of cigarettes calmed them down a bit and they only wanted to check documents.

At the bottom of the pass there was another checkpoint. There were 2 cyclists there who weren't being allowed through. It turned out that the army had shut down all the roads to Kalaikhum as well. I was allowed out but no one else was being allowed in.

10 hours of standing on the pegs. Completely brutal. I could barely walk that evening. But was definitely my favourite day of riding so far.

I had suffered a small electrical breakage at some point during this ride so I went back to Dushanbe to gather some spare parts. While there I met a guy I knew from the last time I was staying there and we got talking. One things led to another and before long we were all getting hopeful that Khorog may open again so. I didn't really plan on it but for a few more days I sat in the hostel in Dushanbe waiting for news. Eventually it did come through. The brother of someone or other had gotten through to Kalaikhum but no further. If the locals can't even get to Khorog then tourists have no chance.

So I had to leave.

On the way out of Dushanbe I got pulled over for speeding. It went something like this.

Police Officer: You were speeding. You must pay $80.
M: How fast was I going?
PO: Ok, $50.
M: Uhhhhh, ok....? But what is the speed limit? I didn't see any signs.
PO: $120.
M: What? You can't go up.
PO: Ok. $40.
M: Write me a ticket and I will pay at the police station.
PO: What?
M: I will go to the police station and pay there. But you must give me a ticket.
PO: Uh, you know what? Just go.

And that brings me nicely onto hats. Central Asia is obsessed with hats. The army and police all need to wear a hat otherwise they are not taken seriously. And the hat is a display of how important you are. Once again the army here has a violent allergic reaction every time I suggest taking a picture so I will have to express this via the medium of MS paint. Unfortunately for anyone reading this I am not a very good artist.

This is a junior soldier

Middle management

Generalissimo

It's worth pointing out that they don't actually wear bowler hats, it's just I don't know how to draw anything else.

Every now and then I see something that makes me feel a bit closer to home. But not always in a good way.

My sincerest apologies to those who don't understand this. My sincerest condolences to those who do.

So I have left Tajikistan very frustrated. At least I gave it a good go and I am certainly not alone here, but it doesn't change the fact that the Pamir highway was probably what I was looking forward to the most. It just means I will have to come back. But there is an upside. So far I have done a lot of rushing. Being forced to slow down had made me appreciate just going slowly. Sure, sitting around and doing nothing is boring compared to riding but I think that is just part of the journey. Situations change and plans must change around them. Many of the goals I have set myself (like riding to Malaysia or Japan or even Mongolia) now look to be in severe trouble. But I don't mind. If I don't make it at least I will enjoy the journey.