Update September 2018

Countries visited: Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan

Cycled mileage in September: 1,303.9km
Cycled mileage per country: 229.8km Kyrgyzstan, 1,074.1km Tajikistan
Total cycled mileage incl. September: 42,066.4km

Days per country: 5d - Kyrgyzstan, 25d - Tajikistan
Days cycling: 21d

Technical failures: 2 Punctures, 3 sets of brake pads, 1 bottom bracket, 1 bottlecage

Link to this month's route

Last month we had a hard time to get from the Kyrgyz capital Bishkek to Osh in the south of the country. We took a few days off in Osh and then planned to head towards the Pamirs.
Pretty much two years ago we had decided to skip the Pamirs as we had some health problems in Uzbekistan and as we felt we had to decide between Tajikistan and the Chinese mountains in Xinjang given we were late in the season. We decided in favour of China even though we didn't have a Chinese visa. Rumors had it that the visa would be easy enough to obtain in Bishkek. Three days before we arrived in Bishkek there was a car-bombing at the Chinese embassy and subsequently no further visa applications were accepted. Stuck in Bishkek we found the cheapest way to go on would be a flight to India. We booked the flight for early October. Waiting for the Indian visas to be ready we used our time to receive Dominik's parents for a short visit in Almaty – and we travelled the Pamirs with public transport.
It was a weird feeling to start the same journey through Tajikistan once more and by bicycle this time around. We sorted out supplies in Osh and on September 2nd we set off towards Sary-Tash, the last Kyrgyz town before the border. Along the way there were three substantial mountain passes to be climbed. On the first day we managed to get from Osh, at about 900 metres altitude, over the 2,400 metres high Chy-Chyk pass. We enjoyed a looong downhill to the small town Gulcha where we found a nice homestay. Unfortunately we lost almost 1,000 metres altitude on the downhill.

On the way up Chy-Chyk pass

Of course the next day started with climbing again. The next pass was the 3,600m high Taldyk pass. The landscape quickly changed from lush green to sunburnt grass and rocks. The villages along the way looked poorer and poorer. We plodded on for about 80 kilometres and called it a day when we found a meadow with some juniper trees aside the road. To prevent altitude sickness we didn't want to go further and climb much higher anyway. According to most recommendations there shouldn't be more than 400m altitude gain between sleeping places over 3,000m.

On top of Taldyk pass

The next morning we got an early start and reached the top of the Taldyk pass around noon. The last few kilometres were pretty steep and the road deteriorated as well. After the pass came a short downhill followed by a second, equally high pass. The name of that second pass strangely commemorated the 40th anniversary of Kyrgyzstan. From the pass we had a nice, if short, downhill to Sary-Tash. Apart from being the last town before the Tajik border Sary-Tash doesn't have much going for it. The setting was spectacular, though. We found a nice guesthouse and from the common room we had a great view on the snow-covered mountains of the Pamirs. We took a bucket shower, did some laundry and stocked up on supplies for the way ahead. Later in the evening we were joined by two Dutch motorcyclists and by a backpacking Italian couple. We had a fun evening exchanging stories and went to bed rather late.

Approaching Sary-Tash

The next day we had a super late start. After Sary-Tash there is a quick altitude gain to get to the Kizil-Art pass at 4,300m. To prevent altitude sickness we figured we shouldn't go much further than 30 kilometres in distance. We left at 2pm and easily did the 25 kilometres to the Kyrgyz border post. We were stamped out and found a nice camping spot a few kilometres later in the no-man's land between Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan. Just when we started to pitch our tent a Kyrgyz soldier turned up. He asked whether we wanted to camp here and nodded when we confirmed that. He was intrigued by our tent and watched the whole process of setting it up. Then he just disappeared in one of the valleys. Despite the bright sunshine we couldn't really figure out when exactly he left and where he went. Camouflage – 1 : Cyclists – 0. Even though the weather was sunny in the afternoon, clouds started to turn in during the night and there were even some odd raindrops and the sound of thunder in the mountains.

Camping in the no-man's land

We got an early start the next morning even though it was still freezing cold. We didn't get far. After a couple of kilometres the road ended at a destroyed bridge. We had heard rumours of that river crossing but by all accounts the water was so low that one could just cycle across. Usually streams in the mountains tend to have lower water in the mornings than in the afternoons but this morning the water was about 25cm high and the ground was pretty muddy. We figured that the weather up in the mountains must have been much more nasty last night than it looked like from our cosy camping spot. Dominik changed his shoes for sandals and then pushed the bikes through the icy water. Soon after the river crossing the steep ascent to Kizil-Art pass started and the paved road ended. Thanks to the altitude we were both a bit short on breath but managed to get to the top of the pass just after noon. The top of the pass also marks the oficial border between Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan. We took a few pictures with the roadsigns. Just when we wanted to continue a group of eight cyclists arrived. They were all going the other way and we exchanged information about the road conditions ahead respectively. It was a quick exchange as the wind was too icy to stay for long.
From the pass we had a pretty rough stretch of gravelroad down to the Tajik border post. We were quickly stamped in. It was a bit of an awkward feeling to be in no-man's land for so long and we felt relieved to have the Tajik entry stamp in our passports. There are occasional police checkpoints along the Pamir Highway and of course the first one is right at the border. It only took minutes to get the entry stamp but it took nearly one hour to register at that checkpoint! Finally that was done as well and we happily left the windy and icy border post. A bit more downhill followed. The landscape was spectacular but the gravel road was so badly corrugated we could hardly enjoy it. Finally the paved road resumed – and the next climb started. We hadn't lost much altitude since the Kizil-Art pass and so we quickly made it over the 4,200m high Uy-Buloq pass. From there on it was all downhill on a nicely paved road to Karakul. For most of the way we followed a fence that apparently marks Tajikistan's border with China. In the late afternoon and with the last sun we finally reached Karakul and checked in to a homestay that had been recommended to us. In the homestay we met a group of German mountaineers. They were just about to tackle one of Tajikistan's massive glaciers on a route that hadn't been attempted since a first successful expedition in 1928! And they thought WE were crazy... We had a fun night exchanging stories and were briefly joined by two more German cyclists who stayed in another homestay nearby.

Icy river crossing

That bridge wasn't yet collapsed

Sowjet rest area

The first pass over 4,000m

Made it to the top

And up the next pass

We had breakfast together with the mountaineers then we wished them good luck and sent them off. After packing up our stuff we left a bit later. The first half of the day the road changed between flat and undulating and we made good progress. At some point the tarmac ended and a gentle ascent started. The pass ahead was the Ak-Baital pass which would be the highest on the Pamir Highway at more than 4,600m. To prevent altitude sickness we opted for a camp spot halfway up the pass. Coincidentally we found a yurt-stay and given the icy wind we decided to stay there. The yurt-stay and the adjacent restaurant were run by a elderly Kyrgyz couple. They prepared a solid lunch and a delicious dinner for us. The rest of the time we spent in the yurt that was heated with a massive stove.

On the way to Ak-Baital

Our yurt-stay

Inside the yurt

We had a good night and only in the early hours of the morning it became a bit chilly when all coal in the stove was burnt. While the Kyrgyz family started their day with milking their yaks, we set off towards the pass. The sun was already out and despite the altitude it was relatively warm. Apparently we had become kind of used to the high altitude. Even though the ascent seemed steeper then the passes the days before we got up fairly easy and without constantly gasping for air. By 11.30am we reached the top. The wind was icy up there and we had to layer up. While we took some pictures a group of cyclists arrived from the other side of the pass. Even though the temperature and the wind was unpleasant we kept chatting for nearly an hour. Eventually we all set off and the long descent started. After a couple of kilometres the tarmac resumed and we made good progress. We kept meeting other cyclists, British, Germans, Swiss and a group of Latvian cyclists. While it was good to socialise it got later and later. We wanted to push on to Murghab, the next bigger city. Unfortunately the wind picked up. After being spoilt with tailwind for most of the way from Sary-Tash, now it was headwind. With the last sun we finally reached Murghab. A friend had recommended a guesthouse to us and luckily they had a free room. We were pretty shattered and hungry. Since breakfast we had only had some cereal bars over the course of the day. We couldn't wait until they finally served dinner and only afterwards we felt ready to chat with the French cycling couple who stayed in the same guesthouse.

The last stretch of road to Ak-Baital

Freezing cold

There we are - 4,655m

Posing on top of the pass

Murghab city gate

We still felt knackered the next morning and elected for a day off. We kept chatting with the French for most of the morning. They knew a good restaurant for lunch and so we also went out for lunch together and did our shopping afterwards. The rest of the afternoon was spent servicing the bikes. Our brake-pads had about 21,000km on them and it was time to change the first set. The rest would follow later in Tajikistan. We also helped the French fixing a broken spoke. Later we were joined by a group of Dutch and German cyclists that the French had met earlier on. It was a fun night exchanging stories and information about the road ahead.

Murghab Bazaar

We aimed for an early start the next morning and failed. We merely managed to leave before 10am. Still we made good progress and got over the 4,100m Naizatash pass by late afternoon. There hadn't been much wind for most of the day but we had been warned that the stretch after the pass would be very windy. And it was. And of course it was a headwind. We had hoped to get to Alichur but 30km short of the town we threw in the towel. The wind was just too strong. We found a mediocre camp spot that we thought would shelter us from the wind. Unfortunately the wind turned frequently throughout the night and we were only sheltered from two sides. Every now an then during the night strong gusts shook our tent and woke us up.

Almost on top of Naizatash pass

Camping in a barren landscape

While we prepared breakfast and packed up there was about one hour with no wind. By the time we were back on the bikes the headwind was back in full force. We met some more cyclists on the way to Alichur which delayed our arrival even further. It was about 2pm when Alichur got in sight and the wind was blowing hard. We could have pushed on hoping to find a camp spot somewhere further on but we just couldn't be bothered. After some search we found a nice homestay and spent the rest of the day listening to audiobooks. They even had a proper sauna at that homestay and it was sooo good!

Public water pump in Alichur

We got a very early start the next morning. The headwind was still blowing hard and progress was slow. There were a total of three 4,000+ metres passes to be climbed. The highest of which would be the Koitezek pass at about 4,250m. Just before the first pass Simon's front tire went flat. We quickly fixed the puncture and plodded on to the top of the first pass. Surprisingly the wind stopped once we cycled down into the valley behind it. Even though the road surface kept changing between tarmac and gravel we were much faster without the headwind and soon reached the top of the second pass. And of course the headwind started again. Long story short: the headwind continued for the rest of the day. We briefly considered camping in the ruins of an abandoned house where we stopped to prepare lunch. But the shelter wasn't great and we feared another sleepless night. So we pushed on. By 4pm we finally reached the top of Koitezek pass and soon after a steep descent started. It wasn't really enjoyable, though. The surface was sand and rough gravel. Only when the steep stretch ended the paved road resumed. We were really tired at that point and the sun was already setting behind the mountains. Of course the headwind continued and without the sun it was just freezing. There was nowhere to camp and so we figured we had to push on to Jelondy. It was just 20km away and we were descending gently. Still it felt like it took forever to get there. Finally we saw the first huts and a signpost for a homestay. We checked in, were treated to a delicious dinner and soon retired into our room.

The rocky road to Koitezek pass

The last bit before the top

It wasn't a good night. Simon came down with fever and diarrhoea. The next morning we extended our stay. Probably a good decision regardless of Simon's health. Throughout the day the weather remained cloudy with on-and-off snow. The ground was still warm so the snow quickly melted away. Still it would've been unpleasant conditions to ride in.

Sick day off in Jelondy

The next day Simon felt better and the clouds didn't look nearly as threatening as they did the day before. We layered up and set off into the icy wind. Luckily the wind wasn't particularly strong and we made good progress. After the lunar landscape up on the pass the river valley we were now following had a lot of vegetation, namely willow trees. For the first kilometres all the trees had already put on autumn colours. The further we descended towards Khorog, the warmer it got and the greener the nature still was. We had had the bold plan to push on to Khorog the same day but Simon still felt a bit weak plus there wasn't much reason to rush. In the end we called it a day when we reached a cosy-looking homestay. It was a huge house and we soon learned why – the house contained the local prayer hall. In fact our beds would be in the prayer hall. It was a Friday and so we were told that we would have to leave the room during the prayer session in the evening. It was interesting to see most of the population of the village flock into the house and in to the prayer hall. We would have loved to watch the ceremony but understandably they didn't invite us. Instead we passed the time eating our dinner and chatting to the daughter of the homestay owner. She spoke very good English. It was interesting to listen to her stories about her life in Moscow as a sales assistant and the discrimination of Central Asian people in Russia. We were actually pretty lucky to meet her as she spends most of her time working in Russia. Just like so much of Tajikistan's workforce. She only returned home for a brief holiday.

Autumn colours just after Jelondy

Lush green nature further towards Khorog

The next morning the daughter left to attend a wedding and her mother-in-law took on the job of looking after us. She was super sweet and we all had good fun having conversations in a mix of Russian, English and gestures. Apparently we reminded her of her grandsons and it was quite the task to convince her to let us go. In the end she sent us off with heaps of sweets and fruits from their garden. We leisurely cycled the last 35 kilometres to Khorog and despite a last climb and some shoddily cleaned landslides we made it into town by noon. Just like two years ago we checked in to the famous Pamir Lodge, dumped our bags and relaxed on the Veranda. Suddenly we heard our names. It were Adela and Kris, the Polish couple we had last seen in Bishkek. They were several days ahead of us when we had last heard from them but the bad roads and a cracked bike frame slowed them down. Just when we were chatting with them we again heard our names. This time it was Elisabetta.
Elisabetta is a legend. With her big red suitcase she isn't exactly a backpacker but at the age of 73 she is much fitter and more adventurous than many backpackers our age. When we were in the Pamir Lodge two years earlier on our public transport adventure through Tajikistan we had met her for the first time. Back then we had travelled together with her on to Dushanbe. We had stayed in touch with her since then. Recently she had told us she would be in the Pamirs again. It didn't seem as if we would meet her as we fell behind her schedule when we got sick on the way to Osh. In fact she had also been sick on the way to the Tajik border. With no working internet connection we didn't know about that and were under the impression she would already be ahead of us when in reality she was still behind us. Long story short - It was a big coincidence and totally unexpected that we met her again. We kept chatting with Elisabetta, Adela and Kris until late and it was good to catch up on their respective adventures.
The next day was spent in pretty much the same fashion. We kept chatting and chatting, went out for lunch with Elisabetta and didn't care about the list of chores we had to do.
Both Elisabetta and Adela and Kris left the next morning. We were fairly certain we would see Elisabetta again in Dushanbe. Also there was some talking about cycling together with Adela and Kris. They would be slow as Kris's aluminium frame had a crack that couldn't be fixed in Khorog. He planned to have the bike fixed in Dushanbe and to carry on with a wooden contraption to support the cracked frame. Even though we would stay one day longer in Khorog we were fairly certain we would be able to catch up to them at some point. The rest of the day we spent sorting our resupplies and checking up the bikes. We also finally had our well-deserved pizza. The mere fact that there was pizza available in this remote corner of the world made up for the fact that the quality was rather mediocre.

Posing with the babushka at our homestay

The last kilometres on the way to Khorog

One of the landslides

Selfie with Elisabetta

We were aiming for an early start the next morning and we even managed to get up and to load the bikes early enough. But invariable we failed to set off early when we started chatting with a Spanish cyclist going the other direction. By 11am we had finally hit the road. There was smooth tarmac for the first 5 kilometres and then it was back to potholes, gravel and patches of cracked tarmac. We had calculated that we would need to average 80 kilometres per day to catch up to the Polish within three days. In fact we had to call it a day after only 65 kilometres due to the late start and the bad road. At least it was a spectacular ride. The road followed the Panj River. That river doesn't only form an impressive gorge with a narrow road clinging to its side, it also forms the border to Afghanistan. Where the gorge got narrow enough we saw Afghan children enthusiastically waving.

Cycling along the Panj River

Tajikistan on the right, Afghanistan on the left

After the late start the day before we managed to set off at 8am the next morning. The road continued equally bad like the day before, possibly worse in some places. The whole situation reminded us of Mongolia where roads were so bad you could hardly enjoy the beautiful surrounding. We did our best to put in some photo stops at least. After nine hours in the saddle we found a well hidden camping spot just after nightfall. After all we had managed to cycle more than 90 kilometres and the Polish texted us they were only 25 kilometres ahead.

Beautiful ride along the Afghan border

Camping with a view

When we woke up with the first sun the next morning we were almost certain we would catch up to Adela and Kris in the evening. But then our early start went awry. The tent was packed away and we were loading the bikes when Dominik found cracks on one of his bottlecages. It took a while to find a makeshift fix. And the streak of bad luck continued. Dominik's front tire, which he had fixed in Khorog, looked as if it was still loosing air. Eventually we were good to go but just a few kilometres later one of the rear fenders had rattled loose. It would still have been possible to catch up to the Polish in the evening. Then the wind picked up, headwind of course, and we actually had to bury that plan. We continued until sunset and then found a mediocre camping spot on a small meadow just above the road. The Polish were still 12 kilometres ahead of us.

Rough road...

...But stunning views

Despite the rocky underground and the unrelenting wind we slept very well. By 7.30am we were on the bikes. With sunrise the wind had finally stopped. The road continued bumpy as is had been since Khorog but we were so determined to finally catch up to Adela and Kris that we hardly slowed down. The last kilometres into the small town of Qalai Khumb the road actually improved quite a bit and just when we reached the centre of town we finally saw Adela and Kris. We kept chatting for a while. Only when we moved on to a supermarket we realized we had been chatting in front of a monument for the four cyclists that had been killed in a terrorist attack on 29th July 2018 near Danghara about 250 kilometres south-west from Qalai Khumb. That attack was one of the reasons to avoid the so called Southern Route that leads through Danghara and is supposedly all smoothly paved. Instead we opted for the Northern Route which is infamous for its rough roads. After finishing our shopping we set off together with Adela and Kris. To our complete surprise the first kilometres were nicely paved and we wondered if the road might have been upgraded. But then invariably the offroad started. Actually it wasn't nearly as bad as people had told us and even though we were constantly climbing it was relatively easy cycling. We stopped for an extended lunchbreak on a grassy patch next to the road and with a nice view. In fact the lunchbreak took so long it was almost impossible to make it to the top of the 3,252m high Khaburabot Pass the same day. We cycled on for another 1.5 hours. Even though it was still at least 2 hours until sunset we called it a day when we found an almost perfect camping spot. According to the maps we were in a National Park now and neither had we seen a lot of people nor had we expected to find people living there. But just when we started preparing dinner 3 children turned up. First they only seemed to be practising their English but then they started to ask for sweets, presents and money. We chose to ignore them and eventually they buggered off.

Monument for the 4 cyclists killed in a terror attack in July 2018

Finally we caught up to Adela and Kris

The Norhern Route turned out to be stunning

Perfect camping spot

The camping spot really was beautiful and we woke up to a stunning view over the valley below. By 9am we left. The road was just spectacular, clinging to the side of a steep river valley. When we set off there was ample sunshine but soon clouds turned in. We left the last river valley and continued through grass-covered and much gentler hills that formed the top of the pass. While the clouds looked increasingly threatening we suddenly saw a group of soldiers and 3 white Jeeps ahead. By the time we got there two of the cars had left. The driver in the last car informed us that they were about to detonate three landmines that they had unearthed earlier. With very serious face he advised us to carry on and to get to the end of the pass as quickly as we could. We hadn't even been aware of any civil war that could have left Tajikistan with UXO! We did as we were told and tried to get to the top of the pass. Of course that was the point when it started to rain. Rain, and later hail, always came in short showers but there was no shelter and even that bit of water was enough to turn the dusty gravelroad in a mud-wonderland. Thick clay was soon sticking to all parts of our bikes, occasionally blocking the brakes and even the front derailleurs. Just when the top of the pass got in sight a deafening explosion and dozens of echoes interrupted the silence. Soon later our friends in the white Jeeps passed us, now all with big smiles in their faces.
There hadn't been any kind of shelter from the adverse weather for most of the climb. But surprisingly we found a lonely bus stop just on the highest point of the pass. After not seeing more than a dozen cars, let alone buses, since leaving Qalai Khumb this was such a random sight. We could hardly believe what we saw. Either way, the bus stop offered some shelter from rain, hail and icy wind. It was a bit difficult to squeeze in four cyclists and their bikes but we somehow managed to. While we had our lunchbreak the weather cleared up a bit, the ground dried and so the downhill became much more enjoyable than expected. Just when we reached the first village down in the valley the rain started again. We found an abandoned shed and waited out the next rain shower. Even though we were still going downhill progress was slow. The road wasn't particularly bad but bad enough so we had to be on the brakes constantly. We were now following another, green river valley. Unfortunately the sides were mostly so steep that there was nowhere to pitch our tents. By nightfall we still hadn't found anywhere to sleep. According to the map there was a village ahead and we thought about asking for a place to camp at one of the houses. The moon was bright enough to cycle on and even bright enough to spot an abandoned house just before the entrance of the village. There were some flat spots just behind the building and we didn't hesitate to occupy them with our tents.

Such views never get boring!

Reminders of the civil war near the pass

Lonely bus stop on top of the pass

The way down

Riding after sunset in search of a camping spot

Only when we woke up the next morning we realized how close we had camped to the village. Apparently they didn't have electricity as pretty much the whole village had been pitch black last night. We briefly stopped in the village to buy some sugary treats for the way. We didn't make much progress as we were either admiring the beautiful landscape or chatting with the Polish while we were cycling along. In the last daylight we found a nice camping spot next to a river.

The landscape almost looked like in a painting

Dusty ride but good company

The next day went by in a similar fashion. Slowly cycling the unpaved road, chatting and having an extended lunchbreak. Actually, the lunchbreak was pretty fun this time. We had become used to children begging for all kinds of things. Be it chocolate, money or just presents in general. So we weren't surprised when two boys on donkeys approached us while we had our lunch. As always we chose to ignore them but when they asked for 'Balloon Poof' we couldn't stop laughing. We could only guess what they wanted but it was just so funny. About 35 kilometres after setting off we reached a pretty insignificant village. It wouldn't have been noteworthy if it wouldn't have been the place where a brand new smooth road started. The off road before hadn't been too bad but still it felt so good to cycle on tarmac and actually achieve a speed above 10kph! There was some more traffic now and also more villages along the way. Still it was easy enough to find a good camping spot.

Busy river crossing...

Nice camping spot

The cycling started with some more smooth tarmac the next morning but soon the paved road ended and for the next 40 kilometres it was on-and-off tarmac on what looked like a giant stretch of construction work. The unpaved parts were much rougher than the long offroad after Qalai Khumb and so we were really glad when we reached the end of the construction work just before Abigarm. It was also the place where the last substantial climb before Dushanbe started. And just on the beginning of the climb Kris' shifting cable snapped. We suggested he could fix it right where we were. But we were planning to have our lunchbreak in Abigarm and apparently he was so hungry he preferred to push most of the remaining 5 kilometres into town. We held our lunch right on the porch of a house near the bazaar, Kris fixed his bike and on we went. Traffic and also the number of villages and people along the way had become rather unpleasant the closer we got to Dushanbe and when it was about time to find a camping spot it was a struggle. In the end we found a well sheltered spot near a small river. While the spot looked idyllic it was just sooo cold thanks to that stream. We kept chatting from inside our tents respectively until it was even too cold for that.

Finally back on a paved road

When we woke up the next morning it was just 1ºC even though the sun was pretty high already. Expectedly the tents were full of condensation but we were so slow packing up that they were pretty much dry by the time we left. The last kilometres into Dushanbe weren't that enjoyable. The road was smooth tarmac but the traffic just got more and more and the landscape became rather boring. Probably we were spoilt after being in the mountains for so long. By 4pm we reached our hostel. Adela and Kris had found a host on Warmshowers and so we said goodbye for now. We exploded our stuff in our dorm and took a shower. Well-deserved after 8 days without one. After more than a couple of days without a shower you realize wet wipes are no substitute! Just when we both looked (and smelled) like civilized persons again we saw Elisabetta walking past the open door of our dormitory. She had arrived just one hour before us. Of course there were a lot of stories to be told. We went out for dinner together and had a great evening.

Reunited with Elisabetta in Dushanbe

The rest of the night wasn't equally great. Dominik came down with high fever and diarrhoea. He was pretty much knocked out for the next day as well. In the meantime Adela, Kris and Simon clarified some questions on our Turkmen visas. We all had applied back in Bishkek with the option to pick up the visas elsewhere. In fact we were emailed grant notices. Other than the 'real' visas those grant notices were without fixed dates, only with fixed entry and exit points. At the embassy they explained that those grant notices could be converted into the real visa either at any embassy of Turkmenistan or at the border crossings. Once converted into a visa one would have to choose a fixed date. Obviously we all elected for getting our visas at the border so we would have the most flexibility on the entry and exit dates!

Rudaki monument in Dushanbe

Tajik Parliament

The next day Dominik felt much better but still it was a lazy day. We met with the Polish for lunch and kept chatting for the rest of the afternoon. The only chore we ticked off was buying a replacement for Simon's destroyed smartphone.
The next day we finally made some progress with our to-dos. Right after breakfast we started servicing the bikes. We had estimated that to be done by lunchtime but we were so wrong. Finding a welder to fix the cracked bottlecage was a relatively easy exercise. But then after cleaning the drivetrains of both bikes it turned out that Dominik's bottom bracket was completely destroyed. The bottom bracket doesn't consist of much more than a spindle, two groove ball bearings and a metal spacer between the bearings. So basically the bearings can be replaced and we even had 2 spare bearings with us. With the help of hostel staff we managed to find the tools to remove the bottom bracket from the bike frame. Simon then went to a car repair shop to extract and replace the bearings. While the whole process might sound straight-forward, it took forever. Only At 7pm both bikes were about roadworthy again.
While we were still working on the bikes Valentina arrived in Dushanbe. She had hitched a ride from the Wakhan Valley with a German overlander in his van. In the evening we met for a beer and caught up on what had happened since we last met in Osh.

Fixing Dominik's bottom bracket

The next day was spent ticking off the last of our chores. We're determined to leave Dushanbe on 1st October!