CYCLING THE ROOF

The mountainous area of Northern Pakistan is sometimes referred to as “The Roof of the World”. This is where the Himalaya-, Karakoram-, and Hindukush mountain ranges meet. Many of the highest mountains in the world are here, and we could cycle close by such peaks as Rakapohshi and Nanga Parbat. There are also many spectacular glaciers in the area, some of which come down practically to the road. The rushing rivers in the gorges (such as the Hunza-, Gilgit-, and Indus Rivers) are fed from these glaciers. Although we didn’t get visa’s for China, we wanted to visit this Northern region and decided to go as far as the Chinese border anyway. Instead of cycling the same road there and back, we took a bus up to the terminal at Alihabad in the Hunza valley. From Hunza we cycled on to the border (although we did get a lift on the last section up the pass – allowing us to leave our heavy luggage at the border town of Sost in the valley below). The Karakoram Highway (KKH) passes through the mountains, and is the land link between Pakistan and China. The term “highway” is a bit of a misnomer as the road is very narrow and prone to landslides. In many places the road surface has been destroyed, and once we even had to wait (dodging falling rocks) while the debris from a landslide was being cleared. However, the KKH is an engineering masterpiece, often hugging sheer cliffs high above the rivers, and cutting through spectacular narrow gorges. The border is up on the Khunjerab Pass, 4733 metres high. From the top of the pass we then cycled all the way back to Islamabad. Mostly, we stayed in small local hotels or camped (one camp site was just below the snout of the Passu Glacier). Understandably this is a very isolated region, so imagine my surprise when I came across a local youngster wearing a Western Province Rugby cap! (we obviously weren't the first South African visitors). As we moved South on our way back to Islamabad, we cycled through a conservative tribal area called Indus Kohistan. Here we had vivid memories of Ethiopia, as the local children also fancy throwing stones at tourists on bicycles. Other foreigners cycling the area seem to fear the stones more than the hills and road conditions, but we’d had a good dose of it in Africa and were now somewhat immune. The sharp rocks and potholes in the road took its toll on my heavy bike, causing a number of punctures and a damaged wheel rim. On our return to the camp site in Islamabad we were surprised to find some people still there from when we’d left more than 2 weeks before (waiting for visa’s!). At least our Indian visa’s were ready, although we were scolded for not picking them up at the stipulated time. We spent a few more days in Islamabad before moving on (the camp site is a convenient place for sorting out ourselves and the bikes). I did a makeshift repair job on the wheel rim, and the only spare tubes we could find were of such poor quality that one was leaking when I tested it in the shop. It was a case of “de-je-vous” for me when we left Islamabad for Lahore (at least I knew the way, and where we could overnight). On the second day we were struck by an incredible dust storm which turned the sky into night at 14h00 (I had enough sand in my ears to produce a crop of potatoes). Fortunately we found shelter under the dilapidated roof of a disused tea-house before the rain and hail came down (together with a bunch of locals and a few stray dogs). Wondering where we could stay the night if the storm persisted I spotted a “hotel” sign, but I was informed by a local that we were at that moment sheltering in what used to be the hotel. Now I’m in Lahore again, but staying in a different area than 6 weeks ago when I passed through the city (and Leana has not been here before, so it’s new for her anyway). The Indian border is less than 50 km from here, so we’ll head that way in a day or two. Daily distances cycled since first leaving Islamabed were:- Rawalpindi 17 km; Karimabad 7 km; Passu 51 km; Sost 41 km; Khunjerab Pass (down) 87 km; Karimabad 94 km; Gilgit 106 km; Thalechi 67 km; Chilas 71 km; Dassu 117 km; Pattan 53 km; Batagram 96 km; Abottabad 98 km; Islamabad 124 km; Jhelum 123 km; Gujranwala 100 km; and Lahore 82 km. (Total since start of journey in Cape Town - 26 601 km).

MONSOON MOZZIES

After leaving Lahore I had a fairly uneventful trip to Islamabad, where I met up with Leana again. She'd just returned from a very enjoyable trekking adventure to the K2 base camp. After 2 days in a hotel we moved across the road to the more affordable camp site for foreign tourists. The regular monsoon downpours, the humidity, and the ferocious mosquitos were the only real niggles, but we soon managed to cope with those things (or at least to tolerate them). The camp site is a good place to meet other travellers such as other cyclists, motorcyclists, back-packers, and overlanders. Like us, almost everyone at the camp site was waiting for some sort of travel documentation. We wasted a lot of time (and some money) on our unsuccessful attempt to get a visa for China (we'll probably give it another go from somewhere else later - after the Beijing Olimpics). Instead, we've decided to travel to India after leaving Pakistan. While waiting, we took a train trip to the city of Peshawar, an area of strong Taliban influence not far from the Afghan border. We spent a few interesting days in this seemingly chaotic place (see "street picture") before returning to Islamabad. Islamabad is a very "organised", relatively modern city which has been specifically built as the capital of Pakistan. There's not that much to see, but one of the places we did visit was the Shah Faisal Mosque (there's some joke about missiles in the minarettes). Islamabad's sister city, Rawalpindi, is only 15 km away and is a more typical Pakistani city. Right now we are in the Hunza Valley, situated in the Karakoram mountains of Northern Pakistan. We've been up to the Chinese border, and have cycled amongst some of the highest mountains in the world (picture - Shishpar, 7611 m). Now we are working our way back to Islamabad to pick up our Indian visas. (See the next report for this part of our trip - hopefully as soon as we're back in Islamabad. Right now I'm not prepared to battle through another report on this slow internet - not to mention the power failures. Apologies to those who're waiting for me to reply, but I haven't even bothered trying to open my e-mail). The daily distances I cycled from Lahore to Islamabad were:- Gujrat 123 km; Jhelum 57 km; Rawalpindi 126 km; and Islamabad 16 km.

SUMMER IN PAKISTAN

Since I've been in this country I've been asked by a number of curious Pakistani's why I'd decided to visit these warm regions at the height of summer. Of course, they first ask the other usual questions (Name? Country? Number of children? Religion? Married? - more or less in that sequence). Dropping down from the dry moderate highlands around Quetta to the plains of the Indus river and its tributaries, conditions became rather uncomfortable (upper 40's with humidity near saturation). From time to time my police escorts found it necessary to cool of in streams or canals along the way (photo). The escorts started soon after Quetta, and at times it was difficult for me to keep my bike out of their van, especially during the heat of the day when they weren't keen to follow me around at cycling pace. Fortunately I managed to stay on the road for most of the distance between overnight points each day. I was compelled to proceed to the next large town or city where there was a hotel, and on a number of occasions I was prevented from leaving the hotel in the evening by an armed guard posted there for "my own safety". The morning when I left for Lahore I didn't notice my escorts anywhere so I made a break for it, and have been enjoying a wonderful few days of freedom. I've stayed in the cheapest hotels (3 to 7 U$), where it doesn't matter if the rats are playing "hop-scotch" in the room or that there may be an impressive collection of mouldy mango pips in the bedside cupboard. What really matters is that there must be a large and powerful ceiling fan in the room. Unfortunately the frequent electricity cuts are a problem, and I've spent more than one night sleeping on the roof of hotels amongst the locals (even they don't dare return to their "sauna" before the fan starts spinning again!). The power failures also make it very frustrating to do anything on the internet - this is my 5th attempt in the past 2 days to publish this post - so please forgive me if I haven't replied to your e-mails. The streets of the villages in the areas I've cycled through have been chaotic, with obstacles coming from all directions (trucks, busses, taxis, tractors, tuk-tuks, motorbikes, bicycles, ox-carts, camel-carts, buffalo-carts, horse-carts, donkey-carts, hawker-trolleys, careless pedestrians, and an assortment of wandering animals). The local driving is rather suspect, and even the police escort van bumped me into a donkey cart one day. A few days ago I had a more serious fall, and have decided to spend a few recovery days in Lahore, where I am now. This time I selected a room which not only has a fan, but also a TV (so I can watch the current SA vs Eng cricket test). I also have a "wonderful" view from the room over the city (photo). Pakistan is a cricket-crazy country, and the moment I mention that I'm from South Africa I become an instant celebrity. For a while I was also a bit of a celebrity after appearing on the TV news about a week ago, but that fame seems to be wearing off now. From Lahore I plan to cycle on towards Islamabad, where I will probably meet up with Leana when she returns from her mountain trekking next week. Distances cycled since Quetta were:- Sibi 92 km; Sukkur 139 km; Rahim Yar Khan 101 km; Bahawalpur 103 km; Multan 55 km; Khanewal 59 km; Sahiwal 140 km; Pattoki 82 km; Lahore 99 km.

ROASTING IN THE DESERT

Not long after leaving Tehran the countryside turned into semi-desert (much like the drier areas of the Karoo in SA). It became rather hot, and even the breeze felt like a hair-dryer in my face. Soon Leana began to suffer from the heat, and by the 3rd morning she was too ill to continue cycling, so she took a bus to Pakistan. She's obviously recovered now, because at the moment she is on a trekking adventure in the Northern mountains. It was also necessary for us to get a move-on towards the border due to the never-ending visa story (our Iranian visas were close to expiry). As I pushed on towards the South-East it became even hotter and more arid. In the Kerman region the production of pistacio nuts is big business, and the orchards are irrigated by pumping up ground water which flows in channels. In the heat these water channels were very welcome, and I made regular stops there to stock up on cool drinking water, and to soak my clothes. By the time I'd reached the oasis city of Bam (recently ravished by earthquake), I was well inside the proper desert. At one stage a truck driver informed me that the temperature was 55 degrees celcius, and the road ahead would be even hotter (my subsequent experience confired that he'd spoken the truth). At the time it was my opinion that only "Mad Dogs" and "Just-as-mad-Cyclists" wander around that area in the middle of summer. Drinking water quickly became hot enough to make tea, but "hot water" is better than "no water", so I made sure that I stayed properly hydrated. I was also able to do some "scientific experiments", and noticed that a 2 litre plastic bottle of solid ice turned to hot water in less than 30 minutes. The heat, however, was not my main problem. Apparently tourists are regularly abducted in the area (both Iranian and Pakistani sides of the border). So, for my "own safety" the Iranian police & army prevented me from cycling further than a certain point on my own. In the last 200 km to the border I had 10 police or army "escorts", mostly on the back of vehicles but sometimes I was allowed to follow them by bike. More than once my escorts dropped me off along the desert road without me having a clue regarding distances to the next place on my map. On one such occasion I was left without any drinking water, as my water bottles had fallen off the back of the truck (a result of the usual reckless driving). At one stage when I had been left to cycle on without an escort, I had a rather unpleasant encounter with a car-load of armed men in traditional dress (fortunately I survived unscathed, and with my meagre possessions still intact). Right now I'm in the city of Quetta, Pakistan. I was again forced to take a bus here from the border, which may not have been such a safe option as the bus ahead of us was robbed during the night (but that's a whole story on its own). Daily distances cycled since Tehran were:- Qom 124 km; Kashan 113 km; Ardestan 139 km; Aqda 165 km; Mehriz 197 km; Rafsanjan 161 km; Mahan 155 km; Desert Camp 95 km; Nosrat Abad 193 km; Taftan 25 km; and Quetta 23 km.

WE'RE IN IRAN

Well, the intention wasn't to cycle through Iran at all. We wanted to take the ferry across the Caspian from Azerbaijan to Turkmenistan, and carry on East from there. We spent a lot of time and effort in Baku to try and organise these things. But, the irregularity of the ferry, as well as visa headaches regarding the "-Stan" countries, made us suddenly change our route. For the first few days' cycling in Iran along the Caspian coast, we were quite surprised to find the area green (rice paddies), with many rivers and forested misty coastal mountains. The people here are also very friendly and helpful, and camping is permitted just about anywhere (we've camped on public beaches, Mosque gardens, and in village people's yards). A problem for us is the strict dress code - I have to wear long pants at all times, and Leana has to wear a head scarf, long pants with a long-sleeved top over it, and long sleeves. (This is not the ideal cycling outfit for hot weather). From the coast we had to cross a substantial mountain pass between Chaluse and Karaj, on our way inland to Tehran. We spent more than a day cycling the 80 k's up the pass to an altitude of 2700 m, and then we cruised down in the drier climate past the spectacular Karaj Dam. There were many tunnels on that road, as well as half-tunnels to protect the road agains rock falls and avalanches in winter. Even although it is mid-summer and very hot, there was still some ice up on the high mountains, and even a glacier near the top of the pass. Tehran is a large, hot (in summer), smoggy city. We've been here for more than a week now, and we've criss-crossed the city by Metro, Bus, and on foot. The traffic is crazy, and the most dangerous thing about the traffic is the thousands of small motorbikes (you're not even safe on the pavement). There is a lot of segregation between women and men, such as separate coaches on the metro for women only, and separate areas on buses. This is clearly a "man's country", with evidence of discrimination against women (i.e. the dress code, and restricted sporting activities, amongst other things). We've been trying to organise things like money and visa's (never-ending), which takes time and requires a lot of patience. Iran's financial system is rather isolated, and our credit cards (which we've used in every other country to obtain cash) are invalid here. Fortunately we had a few dollars with us which we could change, but that didn't last long. Money can also not be sent here from SA. We were lucky to have met a very kind tour operator who forwarded us some cash. This enabled us to settle the bill for our (cheap) hotel room, and to pay for our Pakistan visa's (which is where we'll be heading tomorrow). Between Tehran and the Pakistan border we'll be cycling through some very tough desert and mountainous stretches, and we will have our work cut out for us to get there in the 14 remaining days which we're allowed in Iran. Daily distances cycled since Baku were:- Shirvan 112 km; Celilabad 106 km; Astara 106 km; Jokandan (Iran) 82 km; Hashtpar 90 km; Rushar 125 km; Chaluse 109 km; Sayabishay 70 km; Karaj 92 km; and Tehran 55 km.

AZERBAIJAN

We eventually got away from Tbilisi after waiting a few days for our Azerbaijan visas. The Georgians has elections during that time, and election day was a public holiday. Due to our extended stay in Tbilisi we moved from our hotel to the less expensive Nasi's Home-Stay, which is popular amongst backpackers. Nasi is a retired Georgian school teacher (photo), who has turned every conceivable space in her house into some sort of sleeping arrangement. She's very strict about cleanliness (leave shoes outside), so our filthy bicycle bags were a major nightmare for her. We met some interesting travellers there, including Claudio and Patrizia who had cycled from Beijing via SE Asia and the Sub-Continent, and were now on their way home to Italy. Later in the week we met Yuka from Japan (cycling on her own from Nepal to Europe), and Lee from China (photo). Lee has been cycling the world for 11 years, and amongst his less memorable experiences are having his bicycle stolen in Brazil, bags ripped apart by Afghan police, and (surprise-surprise) being robbed in South Africa. The day we left Tbilisi we crossed the border into Azerbaijan, and noticed a distinct change in the climate compared to Georgia. The countryside was more arid, with thousands of cattle and sheep being herded by horesemen (often along the main road - blocking traffic for miles). Agriculture mostly involved the use of ancient rusting tractors and hand-held implements. The major fashion accessory in the villages is gold - in the mouth (it's not unusual to see someone with a complete set of golden teeth). By the time we'd cycled East to the Caspian coast the landscape had become almost barren, and most things there seem to revolve around the oil industry (riggs in the sea, and pipelines and oil trains on land). The capital city, Baku, is very different from the rest of Azerbaijan. Although there is an ancient section with various historical sights, the city is becoming rather modern and cosmopolitan. Currently we are in the process of trying to organise our passage to the East (a major headache which will probably take a few weeks - if we're successful). In the mean time we'll probably leave Baku and cycle around the Nortern area of the country before returning. Distances since Tbilisi have been: Qazax 101 km; Ganca 99 km; Yevlax 120 km; Qarasu 120 km; Alat 87 km; and Baku 66 km.

GEORGIA ON MY BIKE

No, not Georgia USA. This Georgia is the former Soviet state on the East coast of the Black Sea, and the Caucusus Mountains form the Northern border with Russia. After leaving Sinop we made good time along the North coast of Turkey, as the road was good and quite flat. The new highway follows the coast, cutting out the steep hills and cliffs with a series of tunnels and land reclaimed from the sea. However, many of the tunnels are not yet lit, making it somewhat hair-raising on a bicycle. The Turkish border police looked at our expired visa's with some concern, and explained to us how we'd sinned (as if we didn't know). In the usual Turkish fashion they were not particularly unfriendly, and we were even given a seat and tea while they calculated the extent of our punishment. We were offered a choice of a fine and 5 year ban from Turkey, or a much larger fine and only a 3 month ban. We opted for the former, holding thumbs that we would be able to enter Georgia (until recently visa's were not available at that border). There didn't seem to be any long-term camping space in no-man's land, so we were extremely relieved to be able to buy a 3 month visa there for Georgia (if only we'd had 3 months for Turkey). We found Georgia to be pretty and green (lots of rain), but the rural people are poor and seem to be struggling to recover from the Soviet era. Once again, after learning to speak a bit of Turkish, we are now in a country with a strange language (Georgian), and their alphabet makes no sense to us at all. The Georgian people are also a lot more reserved than the extroverted Turks which we'd become accustomed to. Currently we are in the capital, Tbilisi, which is a fairly large and interesting historic city on the banks of the Mtkvari river. Most of the other towns seemed a bit run down, with dilapidated disused factories and schools dating from Soviet times. In the countryside we came across many neglected monuments and parks, also from the previous era. One of the towns which we passed through was Gori, the birthplace of Joseph Stalin, where he also spent his childhood (there is a large statue of Stalin on the main town square). Daily distances cycled since Sinop were:- Bafra 114 km; Terme 127 km; Bulancak 132 km; Trabzon 161 km; Pazar 122 km; Batumi (Georgia) 91 km; Samtredia 111 km; Zestaponi 81 km; Kareli 85 km; and Tbilisi 116 km.