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Forever Round the World - Mad or Nomad?
We quit our jobs, sold everything we owned, packed up my old Yamaha XT660R and left the UK to ride round-the-world indefinitely! Well, we hope... we don't actually know what we're doing - but we're doing it anyway!
https://scontent.fakx2-1.fna.fbcdn.n...a1&oe=5BAF571D Just after crossing the border into Azerbaijan May 2018 Our (very rough) route is London through Europe to the Caucasus, then onto Kazak, UZbek, Tajiki, Afghan and Kyrgy stan (plan on buying a second bike in Kyrgyzstan), through Mongolia, Russia and to Japan. Then fly the bike back to India, Pakistan, Nepal through South East Asia to Australia and New Zealand, fly it up to Alaska and ride to Argentina. Fly to South Africa and ride up to Nord Kapp and then... we don't know, maybe go round again? We love meeting up with other travellers so if anyone's on our route we'd love to hear from you! Thanks for reading our posts! Hope you enjoy reading them as much as we enjoy writing! You can follow our adventures on our website, which is packed with destination and travel guides, bike kit, gear and equipment reviews, bike prep and hard-earned travel tips! www.madornomad.com We're on Facebook at https://web.facebook.com/madornomads/ And Instagram at www.instagram.com/madornomad_ Thanks guys and all the best, Andy and Alissa https://advrider.com/index.php?attac...e-jpg.1248121/ |
How not to start an adventure
Going on the trip of a lifetime is fun - riding through a storm, running out of petrol, being permanently soaked, burning your luggage and snapping your exhaust is not. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...ure/setoff.jpg Off to a wet, cold and overloaded start It was supposed to be special - the first day of our long awaited round-the-world adventure. But it wasn’t special - it was hell. And it got worse… fast. Not wanting to die on the first day was the only thing we could think about as we chugged along a blacked-out empty French motorway at 30mph, in the most dangerous riding conditions we’ve ever experienced. The wind threw us from lane to lane like rag dolls. The rain was relentless, hammering into our visors and reducing visibility to an outstretched hand. When the rain rested the fog took over; a thick cold blanket which swallowed petrol stations and left us running on fumes - finding fuel with only drops to spare. Only as we arrived at a friend’s house in Normandy at 1am (seven hours later than the planned three hour ride) did we discover the cause of the weather; Storm Eleanor. We’d just ridden through an onslaught of 80mph winds and rain, severe storm warnings plastered the French internet and the entirety of the route we’d just ridden was on red alert. The ‘violent wind’ warnings peppered along the motorway signs were probably a good clue. We should have checked the weather before leaving but it was a mad rush, our bags were quickly strapped into an embarrassing leaning tower. The excessive weight took me by surprise as I nearly dropped the bike. My stomach churned at the realisation of the new load. But with awkward smiles we set off - setting fire to our camping bag on the way to the Channel Tunnel. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...ture/train.jpg Overloaded, we already set fire to one of the bags before we got on the Channel Tunnel Train to France The ride from Normandy to Metz was no better. The rain hammered down even harder and time dragged like a broken clock. Eleanor realised we were making a run for it and made us pay by nearly smashing us into a bridge barrier, we rode at what felt like a 45 degree angle, sweating as we tried to stay upright, the tyres sloshing and slipping beneath us. We couldn’t outrun Eleanor, who tormented us all the way to Germany, leaving us physically exhausted, infuriated and soaking wet. Alissa’s boots filled with water and so did all our bags. Nothing was dry, not even our laptop. By the time we arrived in Nuremberg we were so cold and wet that our hosts had to help us undress as we could no longer feel our fingers. Only as we left Vienna did the weather change, the sun shone through a pale blue sky and we thought, for a brief moment, that things were going to get better - until we ran out of petrol on the motorway thanks to a faulty fuel gauge. Luckily, we had half a litre in our petrol MSR stove bottle. We chucked it in and set off again, laughing - for a mile. This time we had no spare fuel. I hitched a lift with a Hungarian lorry driver named John as Alissa guarded the bike on an Austrian hard shoulder. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...re/fuelone.jpg Out of fuel and stranded on an Austrian hard shoulder https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...ture/hitch.jpg John the friendly Hungarian lorry driver stopped for us and took us to the nearest petrol station Bored and tired we kept on, playing travel games to stop our eyes from clock-watching. Night fell and we stopped for fuel, only to end up in a 15-minute argument with an automated petrol pump. The bike had enough of us and refused to start. After convincing an Austrian in a dark car park under a railway bridge that we weren’t distraction thieves he allowed us to jump the bike of his car. The battery lasted until we reached our accomodation for the night before conking out once more. With the battery fully charged we had 180 miles to cover before reaching our friend’s house in Divin, Slovakia. We packed up, pleaded with the battery to last and made our final push. Sixty miles in and the exhaust snapped off the pipe. We bodged it back together as best we could and made the decision to carry on, much to the dismay of the XT, which screamed in agony as it limped the last 120 miles. As we arrived at our friend’s front door the XT shat itself, spluttered out a bunch of error codes, coughed its final breath and died. We pushed it the last ten metres into his garden where she sits right now, still shaking from the ordeal. We’re wet, tired and cold. Our gear is soaked, we’ve massively over-packed, our bike is sulking, refusing to budge, not charging properly, riddled with error codes, the exhaust is broken, the fuel gauge is faulty, the hydraulic rear suspension has sprung a leak and will take weeks for a replacement part from the UK and it’s only day six. But it’s going to get better… right? https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...ture/divin.jpg Finally made it to the little village of Divin, Slovakia - just before we realised the suspension's hydraulic fluid cable had been sliced - we had to wait three weeks for a part from the UK and the snow came down heavier every single day You can see where we are right now 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 |
Welcome to reality. All that time spent in trip planning was truly invaluable wasn't it?
The farther you get down the road the more enjoyable life becomes, as you ease into a different pace. Bikes are a great way to travel but rain and storms are always a pain in the bum. Enjoy the ride. :thumbup1: |
Cool to see your RR! We are about to finish our 6 years around the world. "Inuvik to Ushuaia to Madrid to Nord Capp to Ulaanbatar to South slope to KL to Montreal to Vancouver!" 150,000 km. We ship from Kl to Montreal this week. Good LUCK!! SARA
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farqhuar - haha yes! the trip planning didn't exactly... 'go to plan' haha. Although, we did only spend two months planning before setting off! :oops2:
saralou - Wow that's so amazing! We'll be following and checking out your site! :thumbup1: |
Three years (weeks) in slovakia
After a horrific start and a complete bike failure only five days into our RTW trip, we holed up in snowy Slovakia for a long wait
https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...alissasnow.jpg The snow came down harder every day, there was nothing we could do but stay trapped while we waited for parts We spent three years in Divin, Slovakia. Or was it three weeks? Either way, it was a long time. We hobbled into the sleepy, fog covered village with a snapped exhaust and a bike that died right on our friend’s front door step. We arrived shivering, confused and - after further inspection of the bike – downhearted. We had just realised the chain sliced the remote preload cable, leaking precious hydraulic fluid everywhere. This meant the whole rear shock had to be removed and new parts were needed from the UK. What was supposed to be a three day stop to spend time with one of Andy’s closest friends, Rusty, turned into three weeks of waiting for parts, dismantling the entire rear end and testing the charging system (which, the local garage couldn’t find anything wrong with, so it must be our heated jackets draining the battery, the only things keeping us relatively warm). https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...vakia/snow.jpg At least the views were pretty As the days passed, fluffy white snow replaced the fog. With each passing day the white stuff deepened and the temperature plummeted to -10C. But it didn’t matter, Rusty and Janka took us in, gave us a place to stay and force fed us until our jaws ached. Our days were filled with traditional Slovakian style, we spent the mornings and evenings with their family and young children by the fire and our days in the forest, hunting, firing World War II guns, visiting more family, eating even more and exploring Divin’s 13th century Gothic castle. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...castletest.jpg Legend has it that a Baron buried a live baby in the castle's foundations on the advice of the local witch in order to make sure the castle stays upright forever... While waiting, Rusty, a traditional blacksmith by trade, built a new side rack (to stop our bags catching fire again), cut the sidestand down to stop us falling over at petrol stations, welded extenders onto the rear rack to move the top box back - so we could actually sit comfortably on the bike and welded the exhaust back together. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...kia/rustyy.jpg Rusty-Slav the master welder fixing the exhaust, building a new pannier rack and welding a fat foot onto the side stand - different to his normal work of beautifully intrinsic hunting knives Twenty-one days after our arrival the bike was finally ready, we packed up and started the machine. The indicators didn’t work, click for left and all four flash like hazards. Switch the hazards on and nothing. The rear brake light is on permanently and the main beam’s out. We ignored this, hoping it would just fix itself. And if it comes to it, we’ll bung a couple of head-torches on and signal with our arms and legs. We left pumped full of goulash, venison and stews, with the smell of gun powder on our fingers and extra man stubble in Andy’s beard. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...ia/hunting.jpg Following Rusty on his hunt for deer You can see where we are right now 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 |
One foot in asia, our turkish family and the olympians
Crossing Istanbul’s Bosphorus bridge marked the start of our adventure in Asia
https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...nasia/dock.jpg Bulgaria was cold. And we were tired of being cold, so our decision-making process went something like this: ‘I know! Let’s head south to the Greek coast and baste in the sunny glory of Apollo’s golden beaches’. One freezing, teeth-chattering night in an abandoned Greek campsite later and we were packed up at first light, bolting it to Turkey. We’re coming back for you Greece (when you’re warmer). We were stung at the Ipsala border; the only insurance office there wanted to charge us an extortionate amount for a Green-card (a must-have for entering Turkey, but half the price at other borders). Time was ticking, the cold was chasing us from Greece and darkness was falling. So, we bit our tongues, paid and marched on. We saw Tekirdag on the map and found a cheap apartment on AirBnB. The owner asked us to add him on Instagram instead of paying through the site as he said he didn’t want us to pay for the night. Confused, we obliged and headed straight for him. Typically, the XT couldn’t manage the last hour and a half ride without throwing a tantrum and blew the baffle clean out of the exhaust on the motorway. Our bike once again sounded like a tractor with a megaphone up its bum. We could see the cold weather stuck at the Turkish border, arguing with the insurance office, it was only a matter of time before it paid and caught up with us. We decided to forget about looking for the baffle and carry on – much to the XT’s delight. We stormed into Tekirdag, our host for the night could hear us coming and raced to meet us, ushering us into his house quickly as confused neighbours came out to find the source of the racket. What was supposed to be one night turned into three. Onur took us to his favourite restaurants, for coffee with his friends and on a tour of his city. He quickly turned into a good friend and was a brilliant introduction to Turkish hospitality. But we couldn’t stay any longer as we were due in Darica to meet an old friend, Levent. We made our goodbyes, started the bike and watched Onur wince as the bike set off four car alarms and made a little girl cry. I first met Levent six years ago while camping next to a restaurant by Lake Iznik, Turkey. He rode past on his motorcycle, saw mine and stopped to inspect it. A chat, ten teas later and we were great friends, touring the countryside, hanging out with the Iznik motorcycle club and drinking copious amounts of tea. No visit to Turkey would be complete without seeing him again. We rode to his family home in Darica where his parents treated us like their own. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...sia/family.jpg Levent took us to his friend’s house where they build humungous off-road trucks together. Within 10 minutes they had fabricated a new baffle out of an old washer and piece of pipe and welded it into the exhaust. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...nasia/weld.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...ia/exhaust.jpg We made our goodbyes to our adopted Turkish family and went with Levent to Lake Iznik, where he works as the Turkish Olympic Rowing Coach. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...sia/rowtwo.jpg He arranged a room for us in the National Rowing Club house, where we stayed for the next four nights. He filled our days with dingy rides, training the Olympic rowers, cycling through olive groves, exploring and hanging out with his friends. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...asia/cycle.jpg We ate more delicious food and drank more Turkish tea than we thought possible. Levent, who knows everyone in Iznik, treated us like royalty. He took us to the lake’s shore at night to watch the sunset. When we hinted that it was cold he called a friend to come and build a fire. When we said it wasn’t big enough – another friend turned up in a 4x4 with old tyres and wooden pallets. When we joked that all we needed now was a guitarist, one magically appeared from behind the trees playing traditional Turkish music along with his father who cooked up a campfire feast. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs.../iznikcrew.jpg On our last night the guys took us out to party with traditional live music and had us all dancing until sunrise. This is truly a special place, filled with the world’s kindest, finest and best men. We’re already in love with Turkey and its people, and we can’t wait to see more of it. You can see where we are right now 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 |
You two could write a book on "What NOT To Do On a RTW Motorbike Trip", could win a Pulitzer for that one. :smartass:
Big ups for hanging in and powering on. :thumbup1: Next time you'll know how important simple pre-trip prep, maybe read the thousands of posts here on HUBB that cover everything from Soup to Nuts regards prep, problems, how to avoid mishaps ... and one good one ... Shake Down Rides. (one of my personal favs and Pet Peeve) A quick trip up to Scotland would have likely pointed out most ALL your eventual failures and allowed repair at home than on the road. I'm sure you guys know all this now ... ? doh Bikes don't run on Good Will! You will also have to actually READ your owners' manual and understand your basic charging system! (I bet you know it a lot better now than before you started!) I don't know what that 660 puts out in Watts but I bet it's not much (guessing from 200 to 300 Watts?) ... and certainly not enough to power two elec. jackets (my elec jacket draws 90W) and not run the battery down in short order, which is what happened. On a F.I. bike a strong batt is very important to keep ECU and F.I. going. I now carry a Li-Iron jump start battery which is great for powering elec clothing. Will run my 90W jacket for about 4 hours straight ... and can be recharged in one hour. Will also Jump START any bike or car ... even a big 5L V-8!) It tiny and weighs nothing. For around US $120 well worth it. So far I've mostly helped others with it. I carry it on every long ride. You mention getting another bike? Is the missus going to ride too? or are you trading in the 660? Also was mystified why you'd cross colder parts of EU in Winter? Best time, IMO, is late Sept. October. Not too hot, students and tourists thinned out, best weather of the year in some places. bier The really good news about your story is all the good people you met ... that if your bike just droned past, you would have never met! :mchappy: When was your age (20's I'm guessing?) I could handle disasters like you've had ... also depended on "the kindness of strangers". It's a great experience but grew tiresome for me. I tried to be more self sufficient. I'm glad I learned those skills because now I'm too weak and feeble to do a lot of road side repairs, crash or handle screw ups. Sure, stuff still happens but not nearly as much as in "the bad old days!" :rofl: You two take care, looking forward to more reporting and great photos.! Thanks for posting on HUBB. |
Hey Mollydog! Thanks for your comment :D
Believe it or not, we've both travelled pretty extensively on motorcycles before. I even rode this exact XT from the UK to Iraq and back about seven years ago! I really think a lot of this trip's faults are down to bad lack (apart from the charging system haha, we were just hoping for the best there lol) Love the battery jumper idea! Should have thought of that haha! doh Yeah we're getting a second bike for Alissa, she also rides! Haha yes we were confused as to why we were there in the midst of winter too. The leave date just kept getting pushed back, one thing after another kept cropping up and so we thought it's now or never! Plus, we've both ridden pretttty much through every European country now so we didn't feel too bad just blasting through! And YES you're so right about meeting all these people, made all the difference! Really appreciate your reply, made us both chuckle! All the best mate bier |
The turkish coast, ancient cities, old friends and quick sand
After months of riding through snow and rain we finally found the Turkish coast, we hugged it tightly… swearing we’d never let go
https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...coast/dune.jpg As the glistening blue sea came into view I screamed louder than an excited kid on his first visit to the beach. Rational thought vanished and we ploughed straight into a sand dune … on road tyres. The rear wheel laughed and kicked gold dust everywhere, burying itself up to the panniers. And - just like with a kid - it took hours, three buckets of sweat and a lot of swearing to get the XT off the beach. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...coast/sand.jpg I pushed the bike over onto its side to pull the rear wheel out of the hole it had dug. Alissa filled the hole back up with sand and we spent the next 30 minutes building a make-shift road out of tree branches for traction before heaving the bike back upright. But we didn’t care. The sea was shining a turquoise tint, the sand hot to the touch and we couldn’t stop laughing (after we got out of the sand). We were finally on Turkey’s Mediterranean coastline … and we loved it! https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...ast/drinks.jpg We knew things were looking up as we first joined the Aegean coast at Cannakele, two weeks before linking up with the Med. We latched onto the coastal road at Canakkale to check out the huge Trojan horse movie prop from the film ‘Troy’, the area where the Trojan wars took place and its settlements dating back to 3000BC. From Troy we got sucked into a week of historical exploration as we toured the western coast. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...coast/troy.jpg Turkey’s peppered with incredible ruins, but the most famous of all is Ephesus; an ancient city first belonging to the Greeks, then the invading Persians and onto the Romans. It was first founded 1000BC and prospered to become one of the most important cities in the world. It peaked during the first and second centuries AD under Roman influence, with around 400,000 residents at its height. As a diverse and incredibly wealthy city it attracted thousands of pilgrims, merchants and people from all over Asia. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...hcoast/eph.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...ast/column.jpg Despite only uncovering 15% of the city, it’s still astonishing; the Great Theatre seats 24,000 people, the terrace houses are as close to walking through archaeological finds as you can get and the details in the stone carvings on the temples and libraries are mesmerising. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...st/theatre.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...theatretwo.jpg One eerie, lonely column is all that stands of the Temple of Artemis - once one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...st/artemis.jpg Our route detoured back inland to visit the cascading, terrace waterfalls of Pamukkale. The surreal hot mineral pools are cupped by calcium stone rocks, which are formed by volcanic lava heating water under the earth’s surface. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...coast/pamm.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...oast/pammu.jpg We strolled into Dalyan and found a dead end by a river, a little ferry appeared and waved us on. Not knowing where it was headed and with no other passengers on board we accepted and crossed the emerald green river. As the boat abandoned us on the shore and started to chug away, we shouted after the driver, asking how we get back – ‘yes’ was his reply. We rode underneath tombs carved into mountains, took a mud bath, made friends with tortoises crossing the road and relaxed, waiting for ferries to flit across the river. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...ast/dalyan.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...t/tortoise.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...oast/ferry.jpg The road from Dalyan to Fethiye, Kas and Olympos turned from boring two-lane straights to a ribbon of pretty black tarmac, lacing its way along the seafront and wrapping around cliff faces. We ended up in a tree house in Cirali and spent days on its completely deserted beach. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...onleybeach.jpg We hiked up a mountain to find the eternal flames of Yanartas. Burning continuously for over a thousand years the fires are steeped in legend and rumour – something about a fire breathing monster. After a quick Google search it turns out it’s most probably methane gas escaping from the rock. Either way, it’s pretty cool and the hike was easy up carved stone steps. However, Alissa wanted to keep going as she thought a poorly spray-painted arrow on a rock may signal more fires further up. And she was right, an hour’s climb up a precarious trail led us to another patch of fire seeping from the ground. But night had fallen, it was pitch black and we only had one phone’s torch for light. After hours of slipping in the dark, nearly falling down the mountain, searching for faded dribbles of spray paint on the odd rock and wrong turns with a dwindling phone battery we made it down. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...coast/fire.jpg While in Cirali we treated the bike to a mini-service by cleaning the calippers, brake pads and discs. But after tightening the chain we noticed another problem - the swingarm had play in it. Unsure whether it was the linkage or the bushes in the swingarm pivot we decided to head for the nearest Yamaha garage in Antalya. The mechanic checked the bike and suspected new parts might need to be ordered in, taking weeks. As he pondered the potential problem, a head popped up from behind a desk, staring straight at me. A second later and he was standing in front of me, shaking my hand vigorously with a beaming smile. It was Mehmet, one of the best mechanical engineers in Turkey. I first met Mehmet six years ago riding to Iraq. I had my bike serviced by him in Duzce, north Turkey, some 400 miles from Antalya in the south. Yamaha transferred him to the south to help start up the Antalya dealership. He recognised me instantly, wheeled the bike into the workshop, stripped the rear linkage, cast his Turkish magic, and with a little puff of smoke fixed the problem - refusing to take payment and offering us a place to stay for the night instead. I love Turkey. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...ast/mehmet.jpg But as much as we love the warm sand, we’ve now run out of precious coastline and have no choice but start our ascent north again – back into the cold. Never mind, we’ve got new tyres, a freshly fixed bike and brilliant memories. Bring on central Anatolia! You can see where we are right now 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 |
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Was wondering if you knew WHY shock pre-load hydraulic line was cut? My guess is since you're over loaded and (suspension too soft) ... the bike sagged down so far that something cut that line. So, you can either upgrade your shock spring and perhaps have the shock re-valved by an expert? ... or ... get another bike for Alisssa. :D Quote:
https://www.amazon.com/REDESIGNED-An.../dp/B01E5T4L74 Quote:
You're so lucky to have been taken in by such accommodating folk. Life affirming encounters, I'd say! bier Simply amazing you randomly ran into the mechanic from previous trip! Kismet! Here's to continued good (or better?) luck! Hope the weather is on your side! :Beach: |
I think you're bang on the money there MollyDog. The way they fitted the line was a bit silly though as it shouldn't have run in the direction of the chain! Equally my fault for not checking!
We're definitely planning on getting another bike for Alissa haha! We're thinking of something like a TTR250, whatcha think? Brilliant! Thanks for the link :D And yes, what a small world! Thanks so much for your well wishes, hugely appreciated! bier |
Big balloons and sad goodbyes
Rock houses, underground cities, hot-air balloons and some of the best hiking in the world! We’re going to miss Turkey… so much
https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...ns/goingup.jpg A hundred pilots stood still, watching and waiting. Faint radio crackles, excited whispers and the accidental pre-emptive click of a camera echoed throughout the valley as a thousand people willed the sun to wake-up. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...ns/hotfire.jpg As the first glow of warm orange sun pierced through the rocks the patient pilots saw their cue. The crackles turned to shouts and the radios went berserk. They flicked the switches and cracked the gas. Fire roared above us and flames pumped hot air into the towering balloons. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...ns/sunrise.jpg The sun broke away from the earth’s surface like a slowly rising helium ball. As it climbed higher into the morning sky it’s gravitational strings snapped away – cutting gravity’s hold on the valley. Hundreds of balloons floated upwards, soaring over the Magical Kingdom of Cappadocia - instantly becoming one of the most special moments of our life. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...ofballoons.jpg Cappadocia is special, whether you’re floating 3,000 feet above it or clambering through tight tunnels 200 feet beneath it. And in the week we spent there, we did it all from top to bottom - and loved every minute of it. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...castleview.jpg My brother and sister, Robert and Lima, booked a last-minute flight and joined us in Cappadocia for three days. The four of us trekked all the major valleys, marching until our feet burned and night fell. We hitchhiked home when we couldn’t walk anymore and rented a car the next day to find and wander through even more valleys. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...lloons/fam.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...hitevalley.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...oons/willy.jpg We drove to the underground cities, explored ancient hidden houses carved into rocks, got lost in Red Valley, slipped and stumbled down steep rock faces and watched the sunrise every morning. It’s an adventurer’s paradise. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...valleyview.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...groundcity.jpg Riding and exploring the dusty trails of Cappadocia was a stark contrast to the turquoise seas of the Turkish coastline. But getting there -and away- wasn’t easy. Just before we left Antalya we had our balding tyres changed at a highly recommended garage. For the first hundred miles the motorcycle weaved as it went over white lines. We put it down to new off-road rubber. Only as the hundreds of motorway miles ended and we ended up on the twisties (two days later) did I realise something was seriously wrong. We pulled in to a petrol station to inspect the tyres, embarrassingly realising the garage put the front tyre on the wrong way round, which meant the wheel and tyre had to come off there and then. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...oons/tyres.jpg After Cappadocia we made our way to Trabzon on the Black Sea coast. But getting there turned into another hell ride. We spent two days riding through torrential rain and heavy winds only to be turned away by our AirBnB booking, which ended in a two-hour search for somewhere to sleep. It got even worse the next day as our route led high into the mountains. Within an hour we were atop a snowy mountain pass, white-walled with ice either side, the wind crashing into us from every angle, pushing us closer to the cliff edges. We had no choice but to crawl at 15mph, exposed to everything it could throw at us, soaking us through with rain, freezing our finger tips with ice and battering our bodies with wind - it took us an eternity to clear it. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...s/mountain.jpg Cold, tired and beaten we made our way to Lake Uzongul – our final stop in Turkey before pushing onto Georgia. Our last days in Turkey were spent off-roading into the mountains surrounding the emerald green lake, stuffing our faces with as much Turkish food as possible and soaking up as much as we could of the country we fell in love with. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...loons/lake.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...issaonbike.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...amonastery.jpg Turkey is an alluring concoction of different worlds, mesmerising and ever-changing landscapes, delicious cuisine and incredible hospitality. We loved all of it, especially the wonderful, kind-hearted people we met along the way. Go there, you are going to love it too. 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! :mchappy: |
A whirlwind in the caucasus part 1: It all started in georgia
5 weeks, 1500 miles, 40 hours of hiking and 3 countries… Welcome to our whirlwind through the Caucasus
https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...s/walking1.jpg For the first time – in a long time – our Yamaha took a back seat. And no, not because it broke down again. But because Alissa’s sister, Alanna, and my brother, Robert, joined us in the Caucasus - and we couldn’t all fit on the little Yam (we did try). For the next five weeks the bike was swapped for hiking around Georgia’s glaciers, riding horses into the Armenian mountains, driving Rob’s rented Kia on roads it really shouldn’t have been on and exploring ancient Azerbaijan. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...sus/batumi.jpg But our whirlwind in the Caucasus started way back in Batumi - a sweet seaside city just after the Turkish border. We visited Batumi just to see the rotating Ali and Nino statues collide into each other every 10 minutes for a quick kiss. The statues aside, we didn’t enjoy the food, missed Turkey, wound up at a Turkish cafe with the hope of finding one last tasty lahmacun. When we realised they didn’t have any we left sharpish for Kutaisi and a flight back… We flew back home - not just because of the lahmacun debacle - but because we wanted to celebrate our friends’ wedding and couldn’t wait to meet a new friend at the same time. Making friends on the road is one of travelling’s brightest perks - but the friends at home are irreplaceably special and it’s always worth stashing a few pennies aside for a cheeky flight back. Two of us left Georgia for the UK, but three of us returned. Alissa’s sister Alanna packed her rucksack and joined us for the next five weeks. We dragged the bike out of our Georgian friend’s garage, Alanna jumped into a marshutka (bus) and we worked our way to the capital, Tbilisi. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...bilisiview.jpg Tbilisi quickly turned into our planning base. We prepped for the months ahead, plotted routes and wandered around the sprawling city visiting every attraction we could find. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs/caucasus/view.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...lisibridge.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...us/pillars.jpg I changed the Yamaha’s oil, filter, coolant, brake fluid and pads while Alanna built a new tube out of guttering, glued it together and cable tied it to the pannier rack to store our waterproofs- all for £2.50. And Alissa repacked, condensed and fixed the luggage. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...namechanic.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...ssaworking.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...sus/alissa.jpg Tbilisi was important for us as we planned on getting our Russian visas there (Plan A was to get them in the UK, but the wait was too long so this was Plan B). We needed a double-entry visa, valid for three months and to start in three months from date of application. But the embassy was chaos. Within an hour of arriving it swelled and quickly turned into shoving and screaming. There was no way we were getting our visa here. Now we move to Plan C – try and get the visas in Kazakhstan (highly unlikely). So instead of drowning our sorrows we decided to nearly drown ourselves - literally - as we tackled Tbilisi’s white-water rafting routes. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...us/rafting.jpg https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...hurchagain.jpg We took the wrong hiking path up and trapesed a ridiculously steep, sweaty and dusty road for three hours. That became the norm for the next week. Alissa and Alanna planned walks, treks, climbs and hikes all over Kazbegi. From waterfalls to abandoned villages, ancient forts and the formidable and exhausting glacier hike. I was happy to get out of Kazbegi, if just to give my feet a rest. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...bighillday.jpg We blasted back to Tbilisi to meet Robert, who flew into Kutaisi, picked up a rental car and bombed it to Tbilisi. We shoved all our gear in the Kia’s miniscule boot, Alissa and Alanna jumped in and we drove in convoy straight for the Armenian border. https://www.madornomad.com/img/blogs...andbiketwo.jpg No way was I paying a fine to exit the country. Nobody told me at the Turkish/ Georgian border about insurance. “It’s a new rule”. After stubbornly sitting there for 20 minutes, we came to an agreement – I had 30 days to pay the fine. I would be in Armenia for 10 days, back in Georgia for two days and then exiting to Azerbaijan. I could then pay the fine the next time I come back or (as we eventually became friends) as the border guard joked - maybe my grandkids could pay one day. Finally, they let me go - probably just to get rid of me. By the time we got through the Armenian border it was pitch black, pouring with rain, I was soaked through and the Yamaha’s headlight bulb gave up. It took two hours of crashing into deep pot holes before we finally found somewhere to sleep and start our Armenian 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 trip reporting!
I'm finding myself responding inwardly on two levels, the first being a mix of envy and appreciation for your adventurous spirit and the places it's taking you. Careful planning is all well and good, but the easy availability--both print and internet--of all sorts of information about almost everywhere and everything, along with the flexibility provided by debit cards, ATMs, tends to deprive us of the actual "adventure" aspect of adventure travel. The good stuff happens when advance knowledge, understanding, internet connectivity, and other established systems break down and we're suddenly thrust into the unknown. It gets uncomfortable, but that's how we discover unexpected sources of strength within, and there are almost always local people inviting us into their lives and helping us carry on. That doesn't happen too much when we've eliminated all the uncertainty by being totally prepared and informed. But the other side of my response is that in your frequent descriptions of being, for example, too hypothermic to manage basic functions, or stumbling around unknown mountains in the dark, I hear a strong possibility of life-altering injury or death. Yes, these experiences sometimes provide the great adventures which we seek--not least because they make the best stories later on. But it's also true that on some occasions our luck doesn't hold, and instead of a good story people get badly hurt or don't ever return. I've had my share of that sort of adventure, and I've emerged rather better off than some I've known who've suffered disability or death. One key lesson to be learned from such experiences is that none of us gets an infinite number of chances, and that we're never too far removed from the end of all the good stories. Hope to keep reading your stories for (at least) many years to come! Mark |
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! 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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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