After a longer stay than planned at the Pamir Lodge, Ollie and Seb were not able to get a hitch, so I set off. It was probably a good thing, the staff were excellent and you meet many travellers. But it was time to leave the city and head out.
The road was nice to begin with, asphalt with views of the Hindu Kush Mountains in Northern Afghanistan. It soon descended into a gravel track with potholes! I was told this is the best bit of the road!
My target for the first day was the Garam Chashma hot springs and the possibility of camping on the way back to the main road. The road up was a rough track but only an extra 4km distance to the journey overall. When I got there, people were surprised to see a cyclist, not common off the main road. The springs were amazing and a local from Dushanbe, who holidays here every year, helped me navigate the rules. There were specific times for men and women.
The baths had a calcite structure covering you from the wind and deep blue water. However, no pictures were allowed, although I did sneak one. Afterwards, I tried to find somewhere to pitch, but nothing nearby so headed back to the main road and eventually came across a farm.
After asking the farmer he agreed but there was a charge of 20 TJS (~£.150). Never had that before but happy to pay. Later on whilst cooking my own dinner, one of the team asks me to heat their dinner as well! I joined them for a quick chat but they had to get back to work.
The eldest son takes me around the farm and shows me his plans. He is aiming to build a set of guesthouses overlooking the water and an infinity pool. Very ambitious but will be a nice stopover on people’s travels along the Wakhan corridor.
Hospitality strikes again
I went with a T-shirt for the first day and lots of sun cream. I still got burnt. It seems at an elevation of 2,000m the sun, whilst not very warm, has very strong UV rays. Lesson learnt, cover up more!
I got up early and cycled an hour before breakfast. I usually wouldn’t do this but I was exposed in my current area and there were trees next to a cafe further along. It turned out to be a great little spot and allowed me to watch people on the other side of the river in Afghanistan. A herdsman walking his goats and sheep, people going about their business along the mud track. Some waved, many didn’t.
The road kept changing between asphalt and broken gravel with many potholes. Some you will manage to avoid, others will give you and your bum a jolt. A new way to add pain to saddle sores! After a few hours of this I came across a cafe, well on the map, but was actually closed. The hotel next to it was open and I asked in there about lunch.
There was no cafe or restaurant but one member of a family, Nuriah, said they would gift me lunch. It also meant I got to rest for a couple of hours out of the sun. Nuriah actually works in the Maldives, she earns more money than working in Dushanbe and can afford to do things for her as opposed to just living.
The need for fruit, vegetables and bread
I continued on to the town of Eshkashem, the largest in the Wakhan corridor. It was my only place to top up with fruit and vegetables I found out. The delivery trucks for the rest of the road were a day behind me, meaning the shops were mainly out.
The road beyond Eshkashem descended into chaos, a very rough gravel/mud track with potholes and large pebbles littered across it. This made cycling difficult, especially in the sun. Whilst cycling through a village, I noticed they were installing a new water line for the village. Not contractors, this is all done by the village. They waved me over for a chat and the men stopped but the children were told to start. They enthusiastically started the task! I feel this would not happen in the UK!
They gave me bread and tea and we chatted for half an hour. The bread was made from sourdough and not dried yeast. I tried to buy some but couldn’t work out who was the baker and even after asking no one could help! I was still breadless; you couldn’t find it in the shops. After riding a bit further I decided to ask in a shop and he dispatched someone to get some bread. When he came back I offered money and he wouldn’t accept.
Stories from years past
After a night’s rest before the minefields started, I discovered the corrugated road that everyone complains about. You get thrown about while trying to cycle it. If you manage to survive your bum won’t! I feel I should create a Washboard Bum Pain Index. It would only be about 40kms but I discovered it will take me most of the day because of the road. Despite the greenery of the North Road to Khorog, there was little here and where grass would grow, it became cultivated.
Occasionally there would be a small wood next to the river, a restbite from the ever-present sun. Overall it is a nice ride but I will need to take a break in Langar and wait for a couple of others before attempting the road to the Khargush pass.
Whilst in Langar, my host provided me with one of their children as a guide to take me up to the petroglyphs. These are a set of stone carvings on the rocks above Langar dating back to the Bronze Age. Unfortunately, there has been more modern graffiti added making them hard to distinguish. The guide was very helpful.
There was also a Mazar/Shrine. These come across as Mausoleums but little is known of them. They appear to be a combination of Zoroastrian and Muslim designs. They are intricate and covered in areas to burn candles and Marco Polo sheep skulls. The ground has also been intricate placed laid with white pebbles in patterns. I could see them as being a nice place to rest and meditate.
Back to the hostel for a day’s rest and wait for Ollie, Seb, Adam and Masha, two Canadians they met on the way.