Turkmenistan (Robb Maciag)

Crossing borders can sometimes be a real anti-climax for me, especially in Europe. I expect that by entering a new country you will be entering a new culture. This was definately the case entering Turkmenistan. We cycled from Mashad to the border in three days, in which time I saw England lose to Germany in a Police bunkroom. They laughed themselves silly at the Englishman and as I went to bed they called to me ‘Goodbye Benny, Goodbye World Cup’ I didn’t dare ask where Iran were when it came to football. The following day we came across one of the most intact Caravanserrais left in Iran and when the keeper offered us to stay there we gladly accepted. We spent a briliant afternoon playing cards, eating sweets and drinking tea in the shadow of one of the greatest monuments to old trade routes, a day that will stay for me forever. Reaching the border I really didn’t know what to expect but by crossing a small river the change was instant and certainly no anti-climax. The faces, were suddenly Central Asian, there were women in flowing dresses and long hair and no one laughed at my cycling shorts. I really felt like I had entered a new world.

Travellers Home (Robb Maciag)

Closed countries have always interested me. “What’s there they don’t want us to see?” Bhutan, Burma, Turkmenistan, all countries with a rich and mysterious history which are just crying to me to go and investigate. Turkmenistan is regarded as one of the worlds most autoratic dictatorships, its a country which is built around the notion of one man, Turkmenabat and his book, some pretty heavy doctrine which I won’t bore you with. The government is pretty much the only employer and the gas and oil fields mean its a relatively rich country; its citizens get gas, petrol, electricity and salt for free and as a result they all love their leader. From the pictures it always seemed quite an eery place still reeling from its Soviet days. The latter is certainly true but once again its people blew me away. Their relaxed laughter and smiles were infectious after the rather hectic time spent in Iran. But the Turkmenistan government only grants tourists a 5 day visa which means for cyclist either 5 days of hard riding or the need for some kind lorry or bus driver to take pity on us. So we caught a bus run by a gas company for its workers and we spent a day in the north of the country meeting people and exploring rather than simply sitting on the bicycle through a 46 degree desert.

Before we knew it we had to leave and go to Uzbekistan. Waiting for us at the border was a German guy, Tobias who had heard about 3 cyclists heading his way. We all battled through the border together and headed for Bukhara. 20 kilometres from the city we stopped to camp and save on a night in hotel, we ate a plate of eggs, rice and salad and were settling down for bed when we discovered it was our hosts 30th birthday. The vodka came out and we knew the fun was just startubg. Having not drank a single drop for 2 months the three bottles of voldka did some damage but I think my Russian was helped in the process. It was lucky my tent was only 6 metres from where we drank but we were up at 7am but I have to admit the bicycle definitely did sway on the way into town.

Welcome to Central Asia

Route Making

Road Side Maintainence

Three Musketeers

Heavy Luggage - but tasty

Hard Work (Robb Maciag)

Hard Work x2 (Robb Maciag)

Pee Break (Robb Maciag)

Uzbeki Boy Racers (Robb Maciag)

My Goodness (Robb Maciag)

Smiles Allround (Robb Maciag)