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A whirlwind in the caucasus part 2: The many monasteries of armenia
One motorcycle, four horses, eight feet and a Kia Picanto through Armenia
https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...us/carbike.jpg Our travel Dream Tream - two brothers, two sisters, one Yamaha and a Kia We didn’t know what to expect from Armenia. All we could find in our brief research was that it had monasteries… and lots of them. People say they’re the highlight of Armenia. So, we marked every monastery on the map and went monastery mad! https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...andystream.jpg Hello? … Where are all the monasteries? https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...us/spookey.jpg Our first experience of a homestay in Armenia was with Albert and Ala, a sweet couple who owned a pottery workshop in a mountain village. They took us in late at night, Albert clicked his old pottery wheel into life, served homemade vodka and gave us each a pottery masterclass, before setting up rickety old beds – in his freezing cold studio. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...us/pottery.jpg With Robert, Alissa, Alanna, all our luggage - and our new fragile pottery collection - in the car we dived into Yerevan, Armenia’s capital. The Yamaha and I were free to blast ahead and ride hard off-road, which, eventually snapped the pannier racks… so we did have a mini break down…but it was only a little one. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...ndyoffroad.jpg We visited Yerevan’s museums, strolled through its parks and photographed every statue we could find - but we were on a monastery high and needed our next fix. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/caucasus/garni.jpg The mountain behind the Khor Virap monastery in Armenia is actually in Turkey. Mount Ararat is famous as they believe Noah’s Arc came to rest there https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/caucasus/mona2.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...sus/temple.jpg So, we made a dash for Dilijan – ‘Armenia’s little Switzerland’. But before we could get there, the bike was set upon by a group of 15 Armenians who heard it coming. They ran out into the road trying to flag me down. It looked suspicious so I swerved past and carried on. A car with its headlights flashing and horn blaring gave chase, pulling up inches from me, windows down and all occupants shouting. I pulled over, they were pointing at the bike and at me. I gave a quick check over, I hadn’t dropped, hit or run over anything. I carried on - much to their annoyance. A large 4x4 bombed it up the road, overtook the car and slammed on his brakes in front of me, blocking my escape. Windows down, again shouting in Armenian. I lifted my helmet up and shouted back “English mate, no idea what you’re saying”. Their angry faces turned to apologetic smiles, they signalled with their hands for me to carry on, put their hands together as if to apologise and just kept nodding and smiling. Mistaken identity? No idea. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...ndywalking.jpg We used Dilijan as our base to explore the beautiful but eerie Armenian countryside. After the Soviet Union left Armenia in 1991, its buildings, factories, country homes and industrial prowess crumbled - leaving empty buildings scattered throughout. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...s/abandon1.jpg Walking through forests took us to abandoned houses, empty hotels, buried swimming pools and forgotten stone staircases wrapped in vines in the middle of nowhere. Armenia is beautiful and luscious green on the surface, but underneath it’s peppered with derelict buildings once belonging to the USSR, slowly being consumed back into the earth. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...s/abandon3.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/caucasus/train.jpg Armenia has a way of bringing out the explorer in people. We’d driven, ridden and walked from north to south and we still needed to see and explore more of the country - and on roads we just couldn’t get the car down, so the wheels and boots were swapped for the most epic horseback ride we’ve ever been on. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...sus/horse1.jpg Five hours of horseback riding through the mountains surrounding Dilijan was one of the best experiences of this trip so far. If the bike ever completely conks out, we are giving serious thought to horseback travel (and are already planning a (much) longer horseback trek once we reach Canada and the States). https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...sus/horse2.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...sus/horse4.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...sus/horse5.jpg By the end of our time in Armenia we had seen more ancient monasteries and crumbling buildings than we thought possible. It’s a fascinating country, with a tragic past, wonderful people and steeped in history - not one to be missed. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/caucasus/mona1.jpg But our time was up. We drove back to our base camp in Tbilisi to make our sad farewells and part ways. Alanna jumped on an overnight train to Baku where she waited for us, Alissa back on the bike and Robert - and the pottery - took a flight back to the UK. You can follow our round-the-world adventure on Facebook at https://web.facebook.com/madornomads/ , check out our best photography at www.instagram.com/madornomad_ and all our blogs, updates, travel tips, destination guides and reviews on our website www.madornomad.com Thanks! |
A whirlwind in the caucasus part 3: Falling in love with azerbaijan
Ancient relics, flaming towers, mud volcanoes, fire worshippers, forgotten villages and the lost world
https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/caucasus/chess.jpg “The computer says you owe Georgia 100 Lari before you leave”. Half an hour of stubbornness and refusing to pay with folded arms and the Georgian border guard finally let us go. Azerbaijan opened its big green gates, let us in and locked them behind us. All our bags came off for X-raying. The guards were incredibly friendly, but their smiles turned to frowns the second they saw our Armenian stamps. “Why did you visit Armenia? Where did you go? Where did you sleep? Why? Do you have any Armenian food or souvenirs?” Azerbaijan is at war with Armenia over the disputed Nagorno-Karabakh region, and are not best pleased if you’ve visited Armenia. Despite the questioning, we were released into one of the friendliest countries so far. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...ndylooking.jpg Five minutes in and we realised we hadn’t crossed at the main border. So, we had to work our way through small back roads for a few hours to find the main road. Already hot and tired we missed our turning over a railway track, and by the time we noticed the mistake we were five miles down the road. To our left was a tiny tunnel under the tracks. Instead of going back round we decided to chance it. It was head height when standing, so we got off the bike and pushed. Halfway through and the tunnel shrunk in size until the top box scraped on the roof and I was hunched over with my helmet scratching too. We were stuck. Hot, tired, embarrassed and in the dark. Shouting and stumbling we heaved the bike backwards. With sweat dripping down our backs and aching arms we hurriedly jumped back on the bike and rode the five miles back to the railway tracks - pretending it never happened. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/caucasus/shop.jpg Hungry and tired, we stopped at a bus stop in the middle of nowhere to eat a packed lunch. A man spotted us and dragged us to his shop. We were sure he was going to make us buy something we didn’t want. He waved his hand around his little shop and said “Take!”. He insisted we took something from his shop - without paying. We tried our best to say no but he wasn’t having any of it. He wouldn’t let us leave without something and refused any money. Fifteen minutes later we reluctantly picked a bottle of Sprite - this really upset him as he couldn’t understand why we didn’t take two. All he wanted in return was a photo and for us to know that we are his “brother and sister”. Our days in Azerbaijan were filled with such kindness, even with families flagging us down in their cars to ask if they could take us to local restaurants. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...lametowers.jpg Azerbaijan is an incredibly diverse country. The capital, Baku, is a mesmerising concoction of contemporary and ancient architecture. The famous trio of Flame Tower skyscrapers sit perched above the city, watching over the Old Town with its millennia-old Maiden’s Tower and cobbled maze of streets. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...aidentower.jpg The country itself is only 100 years old, celebrating its 100-year anniversary on May 28th 2018 (with a deafeningly loud firework display) since the Azerbaijan Democratic Republic was first established – the first democratic republic in the East. The Soviets took control of the newly formed country only two years later, with Azerbaijan finally reclaiming its independence once again in 1991, but that’s another story. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/caucasus/rock.jpg Azerbaijan is oil rich and a major regional energy player. It’s bursting (literally) with underground gas reserves too, which significantly add to the wealth of the country. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...aandpalace.jpg Centuries ago, continuously and seemingly inextinguishable flames were burning all over Baku. We know that they’re ignited and kept alight due to the underground gas reserves, but back then, the ‘eternal flames’ were attributed to Fire Gods, which gave way to Zoroastrianism (basically people who worshipped fire). The word ‘Azer’ actually means fire, hence Azerbaijan – the Land of Fire. This was around 2000 years ago, and since the government tapped into the gas reserves many of the flames have gone out. Now Yanar Dag is probably the most impressive, a continuously burning flame poking out the side of a hill in Baku. It’s said that a shepherd accidently ignited it back in the 1950s with a cigarette. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...s/yanardag.jpg There’s also the famous Fire Temple of Atesgah, which holds a natural gas fire in its centre. But this temple could have been founded by the Zoroastrians or Hindus (also big fire fans). https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...iretempnew.jpg We spent our days in Baku chasing fires and exploring ruins. But our favourite sight was the mud volcanoes. The underground gas – that I keep going on about - found soft spots in the earth and pushed its way to the surface. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/caucasus/vol1.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...lookingvol.jpg But because it’s not magma the mud is really cold and harmless. The volcanoes at Gobustan, not far from Baku, are small and just sit there bubbling with mud. Although there are huge ones, kilometres wide, which they say erupt and explode every 20 years. Baku is brimming with natural phenomena, ancient relics, Persian fortresses, mud volcanoes and eternal flames. And what makes it even more unique is that it’s juxtaposed inside a modern city filled with Ferrari and Bentley dealerships, pristine shopping malls, Starbucks and spas. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...s/fortress.jpg But after two weeks of one huge history lesson, wandering the streets and walking into brick walls, we got itchy feet, rented a car and plotted a course for Europe’s highest, most isolated and most remote village - Xinaliq. Perched high on a mountain-top and surrounded by the stunning Caucasus mountains. The extremely rural village is one of the oldest continuously inhabited places in the world - going back 5,000 years - so we had to go! https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...us/village.jpg We met Rauf, a hardy shepherd who invited us into his home for tea, eggs and potatoes before taking us on a walking tour of his village and to a waterfall. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/caucasus/rauf.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...waterfall4.jpg The further in we rode the more mystical waterfalls we found pouring out of the mountains. The backdrop is so vast, ancient and devoid of human interference you wouldn’t be surprised to see a dinosaur chomping on the lush green grass. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/caucasus/andy.jpg We only decided to turn around and head back as one of the dinosaurs must have caught us and signalled for the thick mist to blanket the land, once again hiding it from human eyes. Mesmerised by the forgotten world we made our way back to Baku, in time for Alanna to catch a flight to Turkey and continue her travels. Now there’s nothing left for us to do but load up the Yamaha and head for Baku’s sea port, to camp out and wait for a boat to cross the Caspian Sea to Kazakhstan … and the next part of our adventure. You can follow our round-the-world adventure on Facebook at https://web.facebook.com/madornomads/ , check out our best photography at www.instagram.com/madornomad_ and all our blogs, updates, travel tips, destination guides and reviews on our website www.madornomad.com Thanks! |
Great journey so far, thanks for sharing. Good drills for working through the initial problems. I will be following along, good luck with it all and travel safe.
Wayne |
The silk road, sand, seas and camels
Crossing the Caspian Sea to Kazakhstan puts us on the trail of the legendary Silk Road to Tajikistan’s Pamir Mountains. But we have a few more sandy seas to cross first…
https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...eas/camel1.jpg Friendly camels line Kazakhstan’s well paved roads. A stark contrast to Uzbekistan, 80% of it is desert and the roads in the north are some of the worse asphalt we’ve ridden so far Stinging sweat trickles into my eyes, I squint and miss the huge hole in the middle of the road. The front wheel smashes into it, the bike yelps and something cracks. The number plate is hanging on by a single cable tie. While I search for string to fix it Alissa tops up the petrol tank with our last remaining 2 litre Coke bottle of fuel. We both slump down next to the XT with our last litre of hot water and take in the nothingness. We’ve been riding for 300km through northern Uzbekistan’s boiling and arid Kyzylkum Desert. There’s nothing here but giant craters and tyre popping pot-holes. The last petrol station was in Kazakhstan (300km ago), our bike is currently managing 200km to a tank and we’ve got another 50km to go before we think there may be another. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...as/petrol4.jpg No wonder there’s a fuel shortage in Uzbekistan, we bought it all! … well, at least we hope it’s petrol? No fuel, no water, caked in sweat and dust - but we’re not worried because we know what’s coming next. Right on cue, a friendly Uzbek truck driver trundles to a stop beside us with a beaming smile and offerings of water and help. It’s the kindness we’ve come to expect in Uzbekistan, everyone beeps, waves and stops to check on us (perhaps because we’re constantly fixing the bike and looking sorry for ourselves with empty bottles). The people are friendly but the terrain isn’t. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...as/petrol3.jpg The roads are deceptively flat, tricking you to wind on the gas. If you fall for it you’ll meet the rim wrecking hidden holes The 450km from the border to Moynaq was just emptiness. And once we arrived we found even more emptiness. It was once a thriving and integral fishing port in Uzbekistan – until the Soviets diverted water away from the Aral Sea in the ‘60s, causing it to dry up completely, creating serious health problems due to toxic dust clouds, putting thousands of people out of work, turning the sea into a literal sand desert and Moynaq into a ghost town. All that’s left now are abandoned rusting ships, baking in the hot sun. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...eas/ships1.jpg The Aral Sea was once one of the four largest lakes in the world - now it’s called the Aralkum Desert https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...eas/ships3.jpg The Aral Sea is considered one of the world’s worst man-made environmental disasters After getting stuck in the sand sea and sleeping in a cricket infested yurt we craved the luxury of a room with four walls and no bugs. And Khiva gave us that and more as we explored the ancient and once most important slave trading city in Central Asia. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/sandseas/5.jpg Khiva is stunning yet has an incredibly brutal and sad history https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/sandseas/7.jpg The notorious Turkmen raiders would pillage and capture anyone they could find and sell them in this market in Khiva, once the most dangerous city in the world - renowned for indescribable torture and death - now a place to buy a nice carpet The cities of Bukhara and Samarkand were two more welcome stops on the long road to Tajikistan. Both with jaw dropping ancient structures, once the heart and jewel of the Silk Road, intrinsically built and glistening blue in an otherwise sandy yellow world. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/sandseas/2.jpg The Registan was the heart of ancient Samarkand and a major point on the Silk Road - used as a place for public announcements, meetings and executions https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/sandseas/4.jpg Bukhara’s famous Ark fortress is humungous with a 789.6 metre perimeter - perhaps to keep all their slaves in For the last month we’ve been crossing seas. But before we could get to the sandy seas of Uzbekistan we had to cross the (actual) Caspian Sea from Azerbaijan to Kazakhstan. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/sandseas/view.jpg The perfect place to recreate that Titanic moment you’ve been dreaming of We headed to the shipping port with no clue as to when the next boat would leave. They depart whenever they’re full. A 12-hour wait for the boat (which was lucky, we’ve met people who have waited, 3,5,7 and 9 days) and we were on. Luckily for us we crossed with the two coolest Dutch guys we know, Erik and Paul, riding their BMWs from the Netherlands to Vladivostok. And even luckier we met up again in Khiva and Bukhara for hours of card games and evening meals on terraces overlooking beautiful cities. Check out their website here www.andtheroadgoeson.com https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...rikandpaul.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/sandseas/wait.jpg A 24-hour crossing, 5 hours before we were let off the boat, and six hours to get through customs and we were in Kazakhstan. We blasted our way through Kazakhstan’s desert, stopping only to gawk at smiling camels, before finally entering Uzbekistan. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...eas/camel3.jpg “Are you sure this is the right way?” ‘Yes, yes follow me, I know where i’m going…’ https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...eas/camel2.jpg ‘Only joking! I have no idea’ But now it’s time for mountains. We’ve been dreaming of Tajikistan’s fabled Pamir Mountains and Afghanistan’s remote Wakhan Corridor for years. Clutching our visas and passports, we slid through the Uzbekistan border and waited patiently as the Tajik guards mulled over our passports. Happy with our paperwork they drew back the curtains, revealing mountains, a tease of the towering Pamirs to come. We were finally out of the flats and into the peaks. With grins so big they poked out the side of our helmets, we clicked into first gear and started our journey to the Pamirs. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/sandseas/11.jpg Entering Tajikistan is an immediate contrast to the flats of Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan. We’re where we want to be … at the gateway to the Pamirs You can follow our round-the-world adventures here if you're interested :D Thanks! Facebook https://web.facebook.com/madornomads/ - Up to date Instagram www.instagram.com/madornomad_ - Our best photos Website www.madornomad.com - Guides, reviews and blogs |
The legendary pamir mountains
We’ve been dreaming of the Pamirs for years. We were expecting it to be rugged, raw and beautiful… but we weren’t expecting one of the toughest rides of our lives
https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/pamirs/3.jpg The Tajik border guard stamps our passports and waves us through. We say bye to the flat, arid deserts of Uzbekistan and race towards the pretty peaked silhouettes in the distance and the legendary Pamir Mountain range. Once part of the fabled Silk Road, the Pamirs were the link between China and Persia for ancient merchants. It lies amidst the Hindu Kush, Karakoram, Himalayas and Tian Shan mountain ranges – all whispering to and luring adventures for thousands of years. But now it’s our turn. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/pamirs/1.jpg We pull over just after the border to look at our map and see seven pale blue droplets dotted in a line. We swing a right and head south for Tajikistan’s Seven Lakes. As we crest the dusty hill the first emerald lake appears. As the gravel tracks worsen the lakes swell, deepen and become even more magical. We’re hooked on lake hunting and make it to the last lake, where a group of Tajiks grab us, shove us inside their tent and force feed us watermelon and milk cake. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/pamirs/45.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/pamirs/44.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/pamirs/46.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/pamirs/43.jpg We dash into Dushanbe and give the motorcycle a quick once over. Nothing else is going to go wrong with the bike. We had all our breakdowns in Europe and Turkey, including getting stuck in -15C Slovakia for three weeks, a snapped exhaust, luggage on fire, dead batteries and running out of petrol. We load-up the motorbike, leave the sweet black tarmac of the capital behind and go in search of the rickety old bridge, which marks the start of the legendary Pamir Highway. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/pamirs/4.jpg The road changes fast, flitting between loose gravel, sand and rocks. While the steep drops, crumbling cliff edges and rough off-roading are sort of manageable… what’s not cool are wild dogs hiding in the mountains. They hear our XT coming from miles away We hear them barking in the distance and see them flying over fields, saliva flicking from their gnarling jaws, hatred in their eyes – only to be met by the heel of my Altberg boot. We met bikers who had worse experiences with dogs biting their legs, jumping in front of their bikes and causing bad crashes. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/pamirs/11.jpg But nothing prepared us for the children. Kids run faster than Olympians when they hear the bike coming. They gather at the side of the road, stretching out their arms hoping for a high-five – all shouting as many English phrases as they can. The nutty ones are so excited they even jump into the middle of the road. Stopping to talk to kids in rural villages is heart-warming and surprising. So many of them speak enough English for a mini-conversation and all they want to know is your name, where you’re from if you like Tajikistan. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/pamirs/19.jpg We lost our 100-mile-a-day plan somewhere in a sand trap. 30-60 miles a day is our new magic number. We ride all day, stop for tea with villagers in the morning, run away from dogs in the afternoon and set up our tent in the evening. I’m so busy staring at the track and swerving around dogs that I completely miss the magic in front of me. Gargantuan mountains burst out of the ground, their serrated edges slicing through fluffy clouds until they puncture the sky. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/pamirs/12.jpg We’re sucked into a trance, soaking up this otherworldly kingdom – until the bike makes a sharp left and nearly smashes into a rock. I pull over and we both look behind us to see our bags on the floor. The pannier rack snapped and we nearly lost our luggage to a hungry mountain drop. I search for spare bolts as Alissa fixes the rack back to the bike with a ratchet strap. We’re not worried, the people here are self-reliant and after 100 miles we stumble across a friendly welder in Khorog who stitches it back together and makes a new bracket for our ripped off sump-guard - all for £2.50 (he got a big tip). https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/pamirs/7.jpg The road splits in the town of Khorog. East is the tarmacked Pamir Highway M41 and south is a 200-mile dirt track which follows the majestic Panj River along the border of Afghanistan. We didn’t come all this way to ride tarmac and make the decision to head south. Riding on the Tajik side while staring at Afghanistan on the right is surreal. The river slices its way through the two countries, acting as a border. But just looking at Afghanistan isn’t enough. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/pamirs/8.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/pamirs/33.jpg So, while in Khorog Alissa spots an Afghan flag… signalling an embassy. Two days later and we’ve got shiny new Afghan visas in our passport. And we we’re not going in alone. While in Dushanbe we met Didier (riding to Nepal) and Franck (riding to Mongolia), two Frenchmen who met each other in Baku and were riding through Tajikistan together. Didier also got his Afghan visa while Franck carried on to Bibi Fatima. The three of us make our way to the Tajik town of Ishkashim, dump all our gear (apart from tents, sleeping bags, pants and toothbrushes) and head for the border crossing. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/pamirs/10.jpg Miles of the worst roads we’ve ever ridden, one the world’s most remote landscapes, 4,000 selfies with the military, a million phone calls, two trees of paperwork and a hundred AK-47s later and we were in and out of Afghanistan… While the smiles on our faces are huge and we now carry some of the best memories of our lives from Afghanistan– the XT doesn’t feel the same way. Despite leaving the majority of our gear in Tajikistan to be as light as possible, the XT has still come out battered. A slow puncture and a snapped spoke are just the start. We catch up with Franck a hundred kilometres later and the four of us hug the Panj River as it swoops and swerves its way east. As the ‘road’ disintegrates beneath us the views become even more spectacular. Deep cut valleys, raging rivers, towering mountains and sharp cliff edges keep our eyes locked and minds off the jagged rocks hammering our machines. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/pamirs/28.jpg We reach the top of a Tajik pass, I jump off to shake hands with a guard and come back to see Alissa staring at a puddle of precious hydraulic fluid leaking from the rear shock. Three miles later and it’s bone dry. No more rear suspension. Thankfully, Didier takes Franck’s luggage and Alissa jumps on the back of Franck’s bike – alleviating some of the weight of the XT. But we’ve still got 350 miles of rough terrain to go… https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/pamirs/5.jpg It’s as though Tajikistan wants to keep us, refusing to let us go. The roads worsen and the mountain passes become even more treacherous. Tajikistan throws everything it can at us. We think we’re home free as we near the final 100-mile marker until the sky disappears in front of us. A biblical sandstorm swirls on the horizon, smothering the sky. We pull over, zip up our jackets, tighten our cuffs and button our collars, give each other a nod and slowly push through at 10mph. Sand finds its way through gaps in our clothing and stings our skin, tempting us to turn back and wait it out. We make it through and think the worst is behind us… until the road starts to climb, the sun disappears and the cold starts to bite. Within an hour we’re battling a snow storm, atop a freezing mountain pass drenched in thick fog. As I can barely ride over 20mph I lose sight of the group. Alissa and I use a intercom fitted to our helmets, which soon crackles and falls silent. Snot trickles onto my top lip and my visor freezes over as I plod through the snow at achingly slow speeds. Tired and cold - with sand in our pockets - we make it to our final stop over in Tajikistan, Karakul Lake. We rest up and prepare for one last slog before the border with Kyrgyzstan. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/pamirs/14.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/pamirs/42.jpg Typical Tajikistan saved the worst road for last. I snatch the front brake and veer towards a cliff edge to avoid the rim-wrecking crater. It’s no use, the front wheel goes in and I wait for the inevitable crack from the rear. The crunch is loud and the subframe snaps. There are two cracks in the main frame and now the back-tyre’s rubbing on the plastic underbelly. We’re so close to the border I can almost taste Kyrgyzstan’s famous horse milk… but we’re not out yet. I slump down beside the XT, which now looks like black ball of cable ties and gaffer tape. The jets are clogged and the fuel filter hates me. We’ve got a slow puncture, missing spokes, the chain guard just fell off and the back tyre ate the number plate - bursting the attached Scottoiler and covering the back of the bike in a gloopy blue mess. The bike’s broken, probably beyond repair, and we’re stuck in no-man’s land between Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan. The rain turned the high mountain pass into thick, slushy muck with a frosty top. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/pamirs/13.jpg But nothing’s taking the smile of our faces. We all just rode through Tajikistan, Afghanistan and the Pamir Mountains together. Broken or not, it was one of the most fun, surreal and visceral experiences of our lives. We give each other one more nod and wobble down the mountain in search of the border, civilization… and a good mechanic. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/pamirs/23.jpg Follow our round-the-world adventures on Facebook and Instagram and don't forge to check out the website for up to date blogs and guides! Thanks! :D Facebook https://web.facebook.com/madornomads/ - Up to date Instagram www.instagram.com/madornomad_ - Our best photos Website www.madornomad.com - Guides, reviews and blogs YouTube https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCbv...JLK3yHHqlpZfbg - Our latest videos! |
your motorcycle is your tool or machine that enables the adventure but if you dont take care of it. check it on a daily, tank by tank basis you may endanger your wife or others. A good mechanic cant fix poor operation. Luck has nothing to do with it. the old addage, coped at the Begining of the PC computer era is, garbage in garbage out, same goes for mechanical things. Was also established at the begining of Mechanical machines. It is call Murphies law, It states" If anything can go badly , it will and more sooner than later, or more simply " what goes up( lack of attention ) will come Down( break down). rant done.
Hope the best for you two, be wise, be attentive watchout for your wife. |
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