Panj River Valley

Since Khorog, the days have begun to blur together.  I've been less than faithful to my journal writing, so that's probably partially to blame.  

Here are some snippets...

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Last Wednesday

The roads have deteriorated to dirt, rocks, as we've approached Dushanbe.  The cute villages along the river valley are sometimes more challenging to ride through, as they often have worse roads.   Sometimes, I don't even see the people saying hello to me, because my eyes are on potholes, dirt patches, etc.  (That is, until several cheeky girls form a human chain across the road... Stop!)  

The road along the Panj River is quite interesting.  There are parallel roads on each side, but this side is Tajik; that side: Afghan.  In between, the swift - now dirty gray river that generally makes crossing impossible.  The road appears to be rougher and more cut into the cliffside on the other side; sometiimes obscured by landslides.  Out of nowhere, there will be a single man walking along the opposite side (to where? he's a long way from everywhere); or a saddled donkey; or a herd of goats.  The roads undulate on both sides - sometimes the Tajik side rises, and the Afghan side falls... The villages on the other side look more ancient - flat-roofed cobbled buildings.  At one bend of the river, the flat bank of the Afghan yielded quite a large town.  In the middle, a yellow building with columns - it looked like a La Quinta Inn to me - but someone said it was a mosque.  

Jovid says many of the people on the other side are Tajik, and that Tajikistanians go into Afghan bazaars to sell their goods.  But Francine said some local she talked to turned their nose up at the idea of going to Afghanistan.  

If I were a little kid on the Tajik side, I'd be watching the Afghan kids as they lead their parallel lives. They are close enough to sign to, or send smoke signals, or shoot guns at.    They could be living the exact same lives on both sides of the river, but they are separated by a country boundary, different politics.  

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Last Wednesday

These roads are beating me up.  I eeked out the 116km yesterday, but bailed on the 87km today at 37km.  Truly, my gut hasn't been right, but also, I just don't feel like spring chicken.  

Food is key. I've just stocked up on Snickers, Mars  Bars, and RC Cola (who knew that these would become staples?), and I also have some AlpenGold chocolate, pringles, and plastic-wrapped, gel-ed chicken legs from China.  I really need to get smarter about my eating.  On a ride in the US, I'd never leave home without stuffing my pockets with bananas and other good things. Here, one must be a little more thoughtful to obtain snacks that are needed... You can't find the stuff you'd have at home, and you don't know when you'll run across the next stop.  After running out of food and water on one ride, I've learned to stuff my paniers with junk food to keep me going.  

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Last Thursday

Above me I can see the tree tops swaying in the wind, but I can't hear them or feel the wind.  I'm in my bubble of a tent; black mesh, no rainfly that separates me from the world.  Outside, I can see a woman and her little girl milking a cow... 3 cows were tied to 3 nearby trees for the night.  Also, I know that somewhere nearby there are army men with guns, who don't want us wandering towards the river that separates us from Afghanistan.  I guess they seriously patrol the area... Unfortunately, Mary and I didn't know this when we followed Daniel's directions down to a little swimming hole between 2 big rocks; just barely separated from the wild, churning chocolate milk river.  We washed our hair, and lounged around on the rocks; with a  nice view of the dirt Afghan road opposite the river (we never saw anyone); and the mountain stream backed by mountains on the Tajik side.  

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Today

A few days more down the river, and I'm managing the distances on dirt roads better.  But my stomach is getting tired of cola and pure sugar.  Fortunately, bananas have turned up at lunch!  

After 4 or 5 days along the river, we climbed on dirt roads out of the river valley.  A couple of days along some fairly well-paved highway roads.  Kids still yell hello, but the interactions are more loose and casual.  

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Tajik river valley to Khorog

The view from my tent this morning is of Afghanistan.  Literally, I am camped right next to the swift milky-blue river that separates Tajikistan from Afghanistan.  Fortunately the current dissuades folks from swimming, and the river serves as a pretty decent border.

Yesterday was nearly surreal as we swooped down from a series of mountain passes that separated us from a rich river valley filled with Tajik villages.

The passes were a formiddable hurdle in the first place, not only because of the height of the climbs, but also the quality of the roads.  I knew there were dirt roads on this tour, but these roads were washboarded, very rocky, sandy - not the worst you could expect, but close.  They just about reduced me to tears, as I painstakingly picked my way over in the smallest granny gear, kilometer after kilometer on my suspensionless bike, as the big Chinese trucks kicked up dust and exhaust in my face.   (Fortunately, the pavement would reappear between segments of dirt road, and overall a good majority of the road was paved.  But those steep dirt segments were hellish.)

On descending from the final pass, we were in a long river valley.  We stayed one night at a hot spring, frequented by locals (suffocatingly hot sulphur, nude bath with the local women).  The next day we passed through a number of villages, lined by the first trees we've seen in a while; or rough fences; or fields of something sneezable.  Houses were flat roofed clay houses straight out of some ancient world, or the more modern blue-roofed construction.  Women cover their heads with scarves, and many cover their faces with more scarves.  Children yell out "Hello" - sometimes from some hiding spot - and you just yell "hello" back.  Men gather in groups  around cars, and stare as you pass.  Many will wave and greet you. Cows sit alongside the road.  The road winds back and forth across the milky-blue river, majestic mountains hem in the valley on either side.

I regret not learning some Russian before this trip, to talk more substantially with all the folks we pass.

We've seen a small trickle of folks along this tourist trail.  Other (solo) bicycle tourists; a few German and Swedish motorbikers.  The secret is out; this is the place to be!

Today:  day of rest in Khorog.  Several of us happened across some kids in the park last night who wanted to play frisbee with us, so we have another frisbee date with the kids in the park this evening.  Laundry, exploring, etc.   Tomorrow, we head off into the wifi-less wilderness for several days til we reach Dushanbe.

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Epic rides through Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan; no wifi

Kyrgyzstan: verdant grasslands, purple mountains; children run out from their yurts where they spend summer to greet you.  Horses,  donkeys, cows, yaks.  Was invited into one yurt with a few other riders to drink fermented mare's milk (blech!), thick cow's cream with breads and tea.

Only in Kyrgyzstan for few days, but learned that boundaries for countries formed by Russians were somewhat arbitrary. There are Kyrgyz people (high cheekbones, own Turkic language) in Tajikistan, and Tajiks (closer to Persians) who traditionally live in other countries.

Got stomach bug right before Tajikistan border,  had to ride in truck for a day. Ugh

Tajikistan was vastly different on crossing border.  Dry as a bone; barren mountains,  but with the deep blue salt lake Karakul visible for miles.  Tiny villages made of corrugated tin roofs, clay bricks. The tiny town of karakul with 10? huts next to the lake is where some of nomads we talked to spend winter... smell of locals burning cow dung in the mornings.

Yesterday we camped next to a Kyrgyz nomad summer camp, and our cook made a deal to buy some yak meat off of a still living yak.  We watched as 5 men hobbled, prayed over, and cut the throat of the struggling yak.  (We had yak stew that night.)

Today we passed over the highest point on the trip: 4664 meters (whats that in feet?); dirt washboard roads reduced me to walking (need more gears).  But on the other side we quickly descended into a near Martian landscape; red, purple streaked mountains that remind me of Bolivia.

Tonight,  a rare treat: a shower and a hotel in the slightly bigger town of Murghab, but still no wifi.  I'm hoping the data network here will work to send this email! 

We also walked down to the bazaar (market) here, and all the kiosks were set up in shipping containers, no electricity; selling jeans next to eggs and car oil...

In a few days we'll descend into Khorog (rest day), will hopefully upload some photos and send a better update there.

From Kashgar into the mountains

I'm about to ride into the mountains and Kyrgyzstan with the Tour d'Afrique tour. The next 21 days will consist of 19 days of camping, which means little access to showers and wifi. :(

Today we ride 60 miles to an immigration checkpoint. Tomorrow there is 8000 feet of climbing, ending at 10,000 ft altitude. So much for a warmup ride! The 3rd day we cross the border, and we're told to expect to be stuck at the border for 4 or 5 hours. We ride for 4 days straight, and rest in the little less-than-a-town pit stop of Sary Tash.

I've been in Kashgar for 3 days now. This area is very interesting and much different from the rest of China. Xinjiang province (where I'm at now) is home to 10 million Uyghers, an ethnic group that is more Turkic than Han Chinese. They have tanner skin, rounder, sometimes greener eyes. Most of the women dress in beautifully colored dresses and scarves, but some cover their heads completely, draping a brown cloth completely over theri faces. The men wear ornate skull caps, sometimes longer goat beards. They are Muslim, and have their own language, which is a simplified Arabic.

The signs around here are in Mandarin and Uygher instead of Mandarin and English.

Exiting the airport, I fairly immediately was helped out by some local guys to get a taxi.  4 or 5 guys got involved in tying my bike long side up into the trunk of an regular sized car.  The couple who could speak some english made sure my driver knew where to take me.  

I don't know how big this city is, but it feels like the country.  Motor bikes zip past the cars and cross through the dirt median.  I watched as one moto-cart with 2 guys and 2 sheep in it did this - the guys were staring at me, the foreigner; and I was staring at their round-bottomed sheep stumbling as the cart hit rocky ground.   

The air is not clear here because it is dusty, from the nearby desert.  From the air, I could see how Kashgar is hugged by mountains.  It looks like the riding will definitely be uphill.  

At the hotel, 2 men helped me carry my stuff into the hotel, and refused payment.

The tour group seems like a good bunch of characters.  Everyone seemed a bit beat down by the section they had just finished, which involved back-to-back 110 mile segments through a desert with a strong headwind.  People have given plenty of advice and seem quite supportive.  

A bit nervous, but ready to get started.

Xi'an

Xi'an, previously called Chang'an, has been around for 3000 years, and served as the capital for 13 different dynasties.  It was the final point on the Silk Road, and the first international metropolis with a population of over 1 million people.  

Random notes from Xi'an explorations:

* Riding a rental bike across the top of the entire Xi'an wall which encloses the inner city was pretty cool.  The same twangy cricket soundtrack was being piped in along the entire route (about 20km?).  But at times the sound of "It's a Small World After All" wafted up from below - an ice cream truck?, making an interesting mix.  Chirpy single gear mountain bike, smell of exhaust and rubber. View of skyscrapers outside the wall was faded by smog.  A kite here, the sound of a woman singing some opera in the park there.  Saw a temple built by the government in the 1700's to unify Mongolians, Han, and other ethnic groups. (Pic: the top of the city wall.)

* After 1.5hr of bus rides and a hike to the entrance past tons of vendors, the terracotta museum was a bit sparse.  Fought through the roving gangs of tour groups to get  a peek at the warriors.  You aren't able to get in very close.  The exhibition hall was most interesting.  Was surprised to learn that this mausoleum was built in the 3rd century BC. Learned that convicts were used in the construction, that the construction took 38 years and started when the emperor was 13. An entire city was constructed, and from the outset, it was intended to be buried. ? (Did I read that right?)  His children were all killed after he died, for political reasons. (Pic: The main pit.  This is as close as you get to the warriors.)

* Xi'an, Beijing (and the rest of China?) is made for cars, buses; people are squeezed out.  Terror of crossing a 7 lane boulevard.  Buses *will* run you over when they hook right.  Cross the street in packs for safety.   In Boston, the streets are made for people; cars are squeezed out.  (No right on red; pedestrian crossings, etc)  (Pic: a more pedestrian friendly street view)

* Enjoying the street food: noodles. Tea-eggs.  Ice cream.  Diet food.

* I think I discovered the spot that my aunts must have bought my sister and me souvenirs when we were in elementary school.  I remember cherishing the parasol, outfit, stamp with red ink, fan. Was there a little box too?  The vendors here are selling many of those things. 

Other random thoughts

* Still musing on how English would sound if it was spoken with the same intonations as Chinese.

* Watching people live can be travel - watching people make noodles, play in parks, push carts, sit and eat - but it's less so in modern society, where more life is lived inside, in cars, and most certainly not on bustling side walks of multi-lane boulevards.  Default city design has less room for outdoor mingling, so more of travel turns into chasing down designated sights, that are often about historical life.    

* How much of what's modern is authentically built (built as a archetypical version of itself, not a copy or imitation), and does that matter from a historical perspective?  The hostel I'm in now is in a faux hutong.  Cheesy park entrances - "Snow Big Park" at the Terracotta museum and black bear exhibits at base of the Great Wall.  Will it matter how they are regarded today when they are viewed in 2000 years?  ("Why were there black bear bones here?")  Were archeological structures we look at now deemed worthy of being viewed 2000+ years later?  At the Terracotta museum, reproductions of the emperor's acrobats were made.  I wonder if anyone thought, "Those silly acrobats, so showy & garish."  

* I like how camera-friendly people here are.  If they see you pointing a camera at them, they're likely to turn and smile.  I am worried about the alternative though - that they don't like your presence or your camera, but will never tell you because that's sometimes not acceptable in this culture?  

* If China's a country of only-children, I wonder what impact that has on the overall culture?  Could that create a generation of super-millenials - more demanding and entitled than Western millenials?  

* Fashion differences in China.  My theory - since it seems most people in China air-dry their clothes instead of using dryers, they can use different materials more frequently.  Lace, chiffon, etc.  

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Beijing: Emperors, crowds, and hutongs

My first 3 days in Beijing started as a whirlwind of emperor palaces, temples, and parks.

It turns out that a palace in China is more of a compound of multiple buildings and courtyards, and less a Neuschwanstein castle. All the buildings within the compound and between palaces follow a similar look & feel. Red walls, columns, green rafters, litle creatures upholding the corners of the up-turned eaves. Beyond that, there have been circular and octagonal temples, gates, shrines, halls....