We set off with the intention of using as much time with the reduced wind as possible; however, this didn’t happen with a puncture of Julia’s bike. We knew the wind would pick up in the afternoon and there was a good chance of rain in the evening. Cycling across the steppe was a mixture of good compacted and churned-up mud track. We carried water and food for two days. We came across no one on the steppe. Only camels, horses, destroyed buildings and abandoned trig points.
We found some cover from the winds in a destroyed building and started cooking immediately. There were some creatures here that could do us some harm, but luckily we were too early for them. We just about finished and dished out as the rain started. We sat in our tents eating our food. A miserable end to the day. The rain had turned the mud track into a bit of a nightmare with the mud now sticking to our tyres and in Julia’s case, clogging up the fenders and forcing her to stop.
We had spied a motel on the edge of the steppe, near Say-Otes. It would be our first shower in 5 days! The motel was very basic; they only had one room with a single bed available; however, it was cheap, just 1,000 Tenge (£1.76) each. Julia opted for the floor and got the first shower. There was no hot water when I came to shower, I was upset. The next few days riding to Beyneu were dull, to say the least, it was only broken up by a sculpture of a mountain goat and a truck stop that let us pitch our tents under their veranda to avoid the wind. They did, however, have a warm shower. Success, I got cleaned!
Beyneu
Beyneu was an odd town. Not quite a border town (Uzbekistan was 80km away) and no industry. It serviced people travelling across Kazakhstan from the West and lorries heading to/from Uzbekistan. However, after riding for 8 days we decided for a few nights to rest and regroup before heading into Uzbekistan.
After finding and negotiating our accommodation we headed into town for a wander. Whilst Julia was looking for postcards, Yelaman came up to me. A local who spoke perfect English and we got chatting. I mentioned I was looking for some cord to create some tent guy ropes; this way I could sure up my tent against the wind. Yelaman decided to drive me around the town and bazaar attempting to find something which would work. We eventually found some washing line cord.
Our final day was used for blog writing, collecting supplies and planning our route through Uzbekistan.
Kindness can go too far
The wind was against us, again! This journey through central Asia seems to have a consistent theme. One of suffering. We managed 58km on a rather dull road; however, we did meet two people on bikes in traditional dress from Tashkent in Uzbekistan heading to Mecca for the Hajj pilgrimage. They had very little luggage and relied entirely on the kindness and hospitality of others.
After 58km we had had enough and decided to ask to camp behind a petrol station on the edge of town. We still had 30km the next day, but were knackered after the wind. Whilst cooking dinner, cyclists plov again, a couple of guys came up to chat. They would only chat to me and not to Julia, which was a bit odd. But it was a nice chat. After dinner, they dispersed but came back again when I was preparing to go to sleep. When I mentioned I was heading to sleep they just carried on chatting. When they finally left they proceeded to make noise at regular intervals in an attempt to start chatting again. I just had to ignore it. It was a long night and I had little sleep.
Fear of a border crossing
The final day to the border was a tough one for me. With the lack of sleep and a cold night, I fell ill and struggled the final 30km to the border. Julia arrived first. When I eventually made it, I went straight for a coffee and prepared myself for what could be a long crossing. I had heard rumours that the Uzbek guards can be very thorough with cyclists, especially Brits! On finding coffee, we also found a very good rate to change money. A bit of a bonus and one less thing to do.
The border was busy, but being on a bike, we managed to skip to the front and the guard let us through straight away. Then the queues for passports, bikes at this point are a menace, and catch everyone’s ankles. But they do become a point of conversation and we soon attracted a crowd, including Kazakh guards who were interested in our journey.
Then onto the Uzbek side; I was expecting an interrogation but the guards pushed us to the front of the queue. The Uzbek customs seemed confused when we appeared with forms, guidance from the UK foreign office. Eventually, they stamped them but it was probably not needed.
It took us about two hours to clear the border but no need to fear the border at all.
Uzbekistan
As soon as you come through the border you start to receive the chants of ‘change money mister’ or ‘SIM card.’ Despite the competition, the prices all seem to be the same. We tried to sort out a SIM card but found them to be 2-3 times the cost we could get in Nukus.
After my lack of sleep the night before, we opted for a room in one of the trucker stops. It turned out to be just a room with a carpet and futon beds. Similar to the mosque guestrooms. However, it was only 100,000 som (£7) for both of us.
We went for a walk and discovered a restaurant at the end of the ‘town,’ that was so delighted to see us she made us feel at home with the service and food. A nice end to the day. The next day we would start our journey through Uzbekistan.