Monthly Archives: October 2015

China. The Middle Kingdom. The world’s most populated country. Sizewise the 3rd biggest on the planet. A place with never ending diversity as it comes to everything from culture and history to nature and climate. China is a whole world in itself. One I’ve never even set foot in before, know embarassingly little about – and whose language(s) I don’t speak a word of.

Sounds like made for a good bike ride – right?

After a chaotic ride to the border, I arrived to get my Kyrgyz exit stamp just in time not get turned down at the door. The day I entered China was the last one the borders were open at all, before they closed completely in favour for the Chinese national holiday & ‘The Golden Week’.

When you’re limited to never moving any faster than your legs peddle, timing can sometimes be tricky – to say the least. This time though, everything truly worked out for the best.

The border into China has a reputation. And it’s not the most flattering one of those. After all the headaches of crossing borders in Central Asia, I was a bit nervous about this one. Apparently – the Chinese customs was even stricter than the ones of the hardcore bureaucracies I’d already been struggling so much with.

In the end, this would not turn out to be true (for me). The crossing did take like 10 hours in the end, but they were only 10 slow hours, not difficult ones.

The first thing that happened as I reached the initiating Chinese border point was that a guard stripped me off my passport. This is standard. Every foreigner who shows up at this border, has his or her passport confiscated. Passports are then handed over to a waiting taxi driver, and the only way to get it back is to pay him for a + 100 km transport to the actual customs spot.

I still have never really gotten a proper explanation as to why this particual border area is so sensitive, but there is simply nothing you can do about it. Do you want to get into China? Do you want to see your passport again? Ok then. Shut up, pay for that overpriced taxi ride – and you will.

True maffia style.

At the border I met the French cyclist Peps, and together with a couple of backpackers we went with the taxi driver who were holding all of our passports hostage. What could have been a couple of hours drive ended up taking just shy of forever. This due to everything from repeating arguments about prices to waiting for the controllers at some military checkpoint to finish their 2.5 hour long lunch break.

When at last, we got dropped off at the customs, we were all pretty tired – but nowhere near relaxed. I mean, sitting in the back of a taxi is only that demanding. Getting pass customs officers though, that’s a whole other story. This was where the actual hassle would take place.

…Or so we thought. In reality, this would turn out to be the smoothest customs since crossing into Turkey (of course, with the exception of Kyrgyzstan).

After all the stories I’ve heard about this border, with people having everything from their chain tools to Swiss knives taken – I was ready to argue my case, play dumb and do some serious kissing up in order to get my stuff across the border. But noone cared about us at all.

In the end we just had to make a quick x-ray scan of our panniers, and I don’t even think anyone was watching the monitor as they went through. So 10 minutes after filling out the declarations forms, Peps and I were standing by the door to exit the building. Still with everything from pepper spray to fresh fruit in possesion. Peps even still had his pretty impressive stash of cannabis on him.

‘Do you think this really could be it?’

‘I have no idea. But let’s go before any of them change their mind!

And we were out.

Still I had just known Peps for a few hours. We had both had our completely different paths up until here. But right then and there – we were companions celebrating like life long friends.

China. From our front door to China. That his was in France and mine in Sweden didn’t matter. We had both gone through deserts and over mountains. Both been fighting ice cold blizzards and frying under tormenting sun. We had made it. China. We had cycled to China.

China. China, China, China.

Say it enough times and even the name starts to seem just as absurd as the ride there.

We were both childishly excited, and laughted, shouted and danced (yes, of course you can dance on a bicycle) our way to the road that would eventually lead us to our first city – Kashgar. After a good night of camping, we started off our first full day in China. And this was a particularly good one to have company.

The Chinese made sure to give us a proper welcome to the country

Can’t even remember the last time I rode a road smooth like this

Peps – the ornithologist – in his element

My first few days in China could make up a book in itself. But I’ll keep it short.

Kashgar, Xinjiang. This is China. But still not really. For me it was a whole new world – but at the same time I still had one foot in Central Asia. This is Uighur region. Where Uighur people live. Speaking – and living Uighur. This is a muslim people with their very own culture and history. The only thing that they really have to do with China, is that they happen to live within it’s borders.

Riding into Kashgar. A lot of Uighur – and a tiny bit of China

For me this was the perfect introduction to the country. Coming in from Kyrgyzstan, there was so many things just screaming China. But still not. Still I could get by with using my Turkish, Uzbek & Kirgiz vocabulary – as Uighur is also a Turkish language. Still there was plov and lagman served as the main meals. Still I felt at home.

Kashgar night market. A hungry cyclist’s dream.

Staying in one of the youth hostels, I ended up spending a couple of more days than planned. Meeting up old friends from Central Asia, and making new ones travelling in the opposite direction. This was a good time.

Once the Kashgar people were also cycling. Now they have upgraded.

Sold outside a pharmacy. I wonder for what they’re used?

A lot of the times I feel kind of like my mind is falling behind my movement. Constantly there are so many new impressions and experiences. And before I’ve had the chance to wrap my head around the first one, the second and third have already come and passed.

In hindsight I felt like the time I spent stationary in Kyrgyzstan was so good for me. It give me time to actually digest what had been going on the last couple of months. My head had had time to catch up with reality, and I was entering China with what I can only describe as a clean mind.

Instead of thinking back on what actaully happened yesterday, the day before that – or even last week. I was now in the present. Completely in the experience – as it happened. I don’t think I had really realised it before, but in Kashgar I could really tell that it was a long time ago since I truly could do just that.

Now. I just had to start cycling.

Fredrika

The border separating Tajikistan with it’s neighbour Kyrgyzstan consists of a mountain pass. A high, steep, gravelled and windy one. One that I was not happy to pedal. Reaching the top requires work, something I’m generally not hesitating to put in. This time however, I didn’t want the result it would get me.

Still I was peddling. From the effort I was sweating like a pig, while simultaneosluy being freezing cold from the harsh wind that kept me constant company. Even though the lack of oxygen left me completely out of breath, I was still swearing and muttering my way up to the border control at the summit of the pass.

It all just felt so… stupid.

Working hard is one thing. Working hard for something you don’t want is another. I wasn’t ready to leave the Pamirs. Sure, this had by far been the most demanding leg of the journey, and my body was in desperate need of some proper rest. But more than any of that this had also been the number one experience I had had in my life.

I had truly found my thing, and life among the clouds had been so much better than I had ever dared to even dream of. And now it was all coming to an end. I was headed back towards civilisation.

Paved roads. Fresh food. Warmth. Beds. Even showers. All great things!

But I had found greater ones.

Of course. It’s not like I was about to step across the border only to suddenly find myself on sea level, standing in the middle of a crowded shopping mall with a Starbucks cup in my hand. The opposite really, as Kyrgyzstan is known to hold some of the best mountain adventures the world has to offer, be it by foot, bicycle or from the back of a horse.

I knew this. But in some way it still felt symbolic to get that exit stamp and – together with by travel buddies Karin & Fritz – head on down the other side of the pass.

One thing is for sure though. It’s difficult to stay grumpy when you’re welcomed by this:

And when I still wasn’t smiling big enough, the adventure Gods quickly decided to send down a welcoming committee that would take care of the rest.

Two high fives later – and I was back in game!

It’s not like I ever said that I’m an adult!

Lucikly I realised how absurd it would be not to enjoy the awaiting 3 day ride down to Osh. We still had some great passes between us and the city, and more importantly – a 3 000+ meter descent.

Bye bye Pamirs! See you next time.

My seasons this year have been extreme. I experienced a spring on steroides as I rolled south through Europe. A summer unlike any other, wrapped from head to toe in 40 degree Iran. Then in the up to 50 degree desert of Turkmenistan. And before I had even had time to cool down, I was camping next to snowcapped mountain tops and waking up to an in tent temperature around – 5 °C.

As we made our way down the high mountains, the climate was no longer extreme. It was still werid though, as the seasons now kind of came in the wrong order. I had gone from high summer to immediate winter, and now rolled straight into… autumn?

A lot had happened while we were gone

Maybe that hat look funny to you, but in Kyrgyzstan they are totally stylish

Kyrgyzstan is the land of horses and apparently not only according to the travel guides. Everywhere we looked people were living up to the Kyrgyz stereotype in great style.

We enjoyed our last few passes. Something which of course was easily done as a 300-500 meter climb would be rewarded with stuff like this:

Loosing altitude and peeling layers

And then – we came to Osh. The second biggest city of the country and one of the big hubs among Central Asia travelers. After a few days rest Karin & Fritz continued north, and after spending almost an entire month of eating, sleeping, cycling and… surviving together – it was one of the more difficult goodbyes I’ve had since leaving home.

Our routes from here are complete opposites. They are flying to India to then make their way along Eastern China to Japan. I’m going straight for China and will stick as far West as the police will let me. But who knows. Maybe, maybe – we will bump into each other somewhere in South East Asia.

(Adventure Gods? Please?)

While they headed North, I didn’t go anywhere. I couldn’t. Because my Chinese visa was still being processed.

…In Stockholm.

I won’t go over the details of the how’s and why’s, but in the end I was stuck in Osh for almost three weeks.

Or well. For one week I was there completely voluntarily. Hanging out with fellow travellers and eating shashlik like there was no tomorrow. I was this lady:

Maybe only with less gold in my mouth

The 2nd week, things started getting itchy. It was all still OK, but still not really. Something like these guys:

The 3rd week, I was climbing on the walls. My passport had been sent ages ago, but it simply refused to show up. This year, the three big national holidays of China and Kyrgyzstan were taking place with horrible timing, all lining up just after each other.

I’ll skip the details, but basically this meant that the borders between the countries would only be open during a 2 or 3 day window within a 3 week peiod. And if my passport didn’t arrive in time – I would miss it.

Day by day I could feel myself turning into…

…whoever you think is more miserable. The man, or his sheep about to be slaughtered.

What happened?

Well, we all know how it works by now. Just as my last hope was crumbling down – BOOM!.

Yeah, that’s right – our beloved Adventure Gods stepped in for the rescue! Sure, this was a rescure that included a whole lot of practicalities, stress, rushed cycling and funny situations I really hope to tell you about some day.

But this was basically what happened.

1) My long lost box including my passport & Chinese visa showed up

2) I was cycling like a mad woman towards the Irkeshtam border to China

So, so happy to be able to get across in time. But not without regret for having to rush past a landscape like this way too quickly. I guess you can’t always have it all.

It’s funny isn’t it? For weeks I’d been so desperate to get the heck out of the country and into China. But now when I finally got the chance to do just that, I kind of didn’t want to? Gosh. Sometimes I really feel like smacking some sense into myself.

But then again. Sensible is probably the last thing one wants be on a trip like this.

So for now, I’m leaving myself unsmacked.

Fredrika