Very quickly the road deteriorates into a bad mud track. Even 4x4s have to slow right down. We are enveloped in dust, rattled around by the endless potholes. After about 10km of this we scoot across to an area where it looks like there is a road under construction, it was. We even joined the workers for lunch in the shade of a vehicle. They welcomed us and we shared our dates with them; always remember to bring a gift. Despite the wind, against us again, we had an easy afternoon cruising along compacted gravel.
On looking for a place to camp out of the wind, we asked at the workers’ camp if we could pitch our tents next to a wall. We were taken aback when they spoke fluent English. Nilufar was the translator for the Chinese and International teams. Nilufar spoke with the deputy engineer, Muhammad, for the project and we found ourselves whisked into the executive worker’s hut and given a room with a warm shower, functioning toilet, kitchen and even a gym! Muhammed, from Pakistan, also offered to cook.
During the meal, post-Iftar, we found out that the road was sponsored by the Asian Development Bank and Muhammad had worked on many such projects all over the world. The team is made up of Chinese, locals (Uzbeks in this case) and international engineers. Nilufar also joined us for dinner. Muhammad was happy to have us; he rather enjoyed having company so he could have a different conversation. Muhammad will be stationed there for 6 months, away from his family in Pakistan.
Sand storm stops play
The next day was fairly easygoing, except for the wind, to Jasliq. Our turnoff point is to head to the Aral Sea. The weather looked terrible for the next day, so we decided for two days at the hostel. This allowed us to refill with supplies. It’s difficult to just stop when you want to cycle. The day passed with reading books, movies and a little writing for me. But it was a long day.
We finally got going, and this will surprise you, the wind was against us again. It was tough and we underestimated the heat and amount of water we needed. We knew there was a village but were unsure what would be available. By luck, there was a gas compressor station and they refilled all our water bottles.
It was an odd village, the playground was about half of the village. Children who should have been in school were riding around on motorbikes helping their fathers with the farm or some other business. Farm wise it was only animals; it was too dry for crops. I felt that this village was one of the dying villages of the world. In time there will be no work available in the area. The gas compressor station was being upgraded and automated.
South Aral Sea
We got to the drop-off down to the sea basin; there is no water any more. Maybe in the distance but there were low clouds. The water has receded from Muynak, which was a coastal town, by about 200km due to the growth of water-intensive crops, cotton and rice. During the Soviet times, the region had expanded cotton production and the amount of water consumed. This left very little making its way from the mountains in the East to the Aral Sea.
The landscape we could see looked amazing, with small peaks of red hues and a small track in between. We found a place for a camp, hoping we were sheltered from the wind. I got it wrong again; we got battered by the wind. The next day I was expecting the basin to be fairly empty with almost no one around. I was shocked to find quite a few people, especially around the drilling sites. They are looking for more gas and maybe some oil. We also had a tailwind, the first time. It was lovely riding, although tricky mud tracks in places.
I arrived first into Muynak; a destination we had no choice in. We were out of money and in desperate need of a cash machine. I hunted out somewhere for coffee and food, Lag’mon. Lag’mon is a dish consisting of fried pasta with meat and sauce. A perfect cyclist’s food.
There was a chance to visit the ship cemetery. These were a group of fishing ships left over from the sea receding and left an eerie site on the outskirts of the town. The receding sea cost the town 16,000 jobs as fishing completely died out from the increased salinity. I wonder if the increased farming created as many jobs. After the horrendous day before we decided on a hostel and then decide on how to attack the next day of riding.
Wind everywhere… but on a farm
The next day, we decided to go to a museum in the morning, but with calmer weather, we changed our minds and decided to ride instead. We might as well have not bothered, the wind drove hard against us. In our planning the night before we found a mausoleum about 40km South of Muynak and were hoping that it would give some wind shelter for the tents. Shelter from the wind was not possible. But 5km further on was a barn, which I was sure would shelter us.
On arriving at the barn, it was a full farm unit and the farmer was coming over! A quick use of Google Translate and we were allowed to place our tents next to a wall for shelter. Later on, the farmer, Igar, invited us to dinner. But first, we got to see them making the bread that day and the farm. It looks as if little has changed in the preparation of food from the early 1900s. The bread was still prepared in a clay oven. I even had a go!
The next morning we prepared to leave, but they had made breakfast for us. However, it came with a flick of a finger on the neck, a sign I saw again and again. It meant alcohol, specifically vodka. They had brought out a bottle of vodka and now they expected us to have a drink. Julia refused but I endured what I thought was going to be one shot. But they used a tea cup and it was probably closer to 3 shots. I refused the second; they poured it anyway! I was glad the wind was behind us.
This was the easiest bit of cycling, the wind was behind us for only the second time in a month and we would be in Nukus the next day. I was happy when we arrived in Nukus, we had a Warmshowers host and it was a chance to regroup before the rest of Uzbekistan.