Over the last week or two the fishing has picked up a little. of course in true fisherman style some big fish were lost, but here are some pictures of the ones that didn't get away! hopefully some more will follow their friends onto the beach soon!
Thursday, 10 January 2008
Wednesday, 2 January 2008
From where I last left off we were just approaching Kathmandu after spending over two months crossing the Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region of North West China, Aksai Chin and of course Tibet.
As I mentioned before, the descent from Tibet down across the China/Nepal border was one of the most awe-inspiring day’s cycling I have been lucky enough to experience. Never had I imagined that in one days cycling, so many changes in regards to natural scenery, climate and people could be seen. From the high altitude dry and parched brown grasslands of Zhigatse province in Tibet to the lush cloud forest of northern Nepal. After many months of wide open spaces it was quite a feeling to be among the trees and diversity of the forest, but somewhat overwhelming. Clear streams tumbled down from high cloud covered peaks dissecting the lush carpet of greenery. Wherever we looked we saw these beautiful waterfalls emptying into the River Indravati which later becomes the famous Sun Kosi. To think we woke to ice covered tents and struggled to get the stove going to brew some hot morning coffee. Now we cycled in T-shirts and shorts amidst smiling and
waving Nepalis, with the possibility of stopping at any number of small tea houses to drink tea or coffee and eat some proper food that wasn’t Tsampa or instant noodles of some description.Johannes and Nils’ visas are running out today so we had no choice but to get through the Nepal/Chinese border. We had been a little worried in the previous days as tim
e was running a little low to cover the remaining km’s. Jo and Nils had pushed ahead while Hayato and I carried on at a slightly slower pace. The day before the border we caught the others and cycled down to the border together reaching there around lunch time. I can safely say this border was the busiest I have had the pleasure to cross. Situated on a series of mountain side switchbacks, the road is narrow and steep and extremely congested. For kilometres the road is lined with shops, small hotels and long queues of trucks that ferry goods away from the border.People were swarming everywhere, many Chinese, Tibetans and Nepalese. The Nepalese seemed to be in China to load up with cheap goods to sell back in Kathmandu. Just before the border we saw a huge Chinese ‘supermarket’ stuck on the side of the mountainside, complete with huge gold lettering on the front. People flocked to the doors to buy anything they needed from fans to fridges. To and through the border porters carried all goods as it se
emed very few vehicles ever passed through from one side of the border to the other. Everything is off loaded on one side and then lugged the 3 km or so through no mans land to the other side. We saw some amazing feats of strength and as you can guess usually from Nepali Sherpas. We passed through the Chinese border fast although they didn’t seem too happy with us dropping mud on their shiny marble floor!We were literally covered in crap by the time we reached the border. The road for the last 30km was being repaired and made ready for asphalt. It was difficult to make more than 10kph due to deep mud, rocks, ruts and river crossings. Luckily there was no need to cover the distance too quickly so we enjoyed the hard te
rrain and the stunning views. Our bikes took a beating and later I found my front axle had snapped. With just the skewer holding my wheel I managed to limp to Kathmandu. For the length of the repairs, Chinese and Tibetans live in linear campsites between the road and the cliff. We passed workers spraying cliffs with concrete, guys hanging from cliffs with huge jackhammers and gangs bodging scaffolding together to make a mould for a new tunnel. It will certainly be lovely road when its finished but who knows how many lives it will cost.We were welcomed at the Nepalese border post and each given a two month visa. We went in a small tea shop opposite and tried to order some food but were just giggled at by three Nepalese girls. After 20 minutes I managed to extract some milk tea and two fried eggs from them! What a dismal result after our visions of a huge meal. The tea was bloody good though, the first milk tea of the trip (excluding yak butter tea!). we all decided on a move so went down the road and found a new eating house where we stuffed ourselves with momos and fried rice.
Outside the restaurant we met a Nepalese guy (whos name I forget) who suggested we cycle another 7 km from the border to the village of Tatopani (meaning hot water in nepalese), where there was hot springs and comfortable guesthouses. We were there as quickly as possible and were soon scrubbing nearly a months worth of dirt and sweat from our bodies. After a lovely dinne
r of curry washed down with some cold beers we slept long and soundly before rising and making our way through the lush green landscape to Kathmandu.We flew down the winding mountain roads stopping every five minutes to gawk at another amazing view. Rice paddies clinging to the mountain sides, and people could be spotted working far above villages in small fields, getting ready to bring in the seasons crops as harvest time was fast approaching. The hills were alive with Nepalis, collecting fodder for cattle and donkeys, threshing rice and tending the rich variety of crops found in this fertile region. Hard work compared to their lowland countrymen who have flatland and even more fertile soil down on the Terai.
For the days to Katmandu, neither Nils, Jo, Hayato or I could stop smiling and babbling away about the joys of being in Nepal. What a change it made to the Tibet…. Tibet was a challenge and we thoroughly enjoyed it but we couldn’t argue that it was nice to be warm for a change and cycle on a road without corrugations. There was also the added bonus of having a little more oxygen to suck up! The nights before reaching Kathmandu we slept on white sand beaches under huge trees next to the beautiful Sun Kosi river.
I fished a little hoping to maybe hook my first Nepalese mahseer but it wasn’t to be. We did however see the locals having more success with an ingenious method. Along the length of a thick piece of line measuring maybe three metres, hundreds of small loops of line are fixed on either side. These loops of thinner line with diameters of perhaps 2 inches, touch the next loop leaving no gaps in the length of the trap. Before dusk the fisherman creeps down to his favourite spots, ties a large rock to the end of each line and slings them into the slacks for collection early in the morning. I assumed the lines would be tied to the bank in some way but there are no attachments, just the rock to act as an anchor. I had my doubts whether the guy would catch anything so I was up at first light waiting to see how he would get his lines back and whether he would have fish. As the mists gently rolled downstream the fisherman appeared carrying a long bamboo pole which he expertly dipped at each spot quickly hooking his lines. An
d sure enough he had some fish, little gleaming catfish, wriggling intently to escape their nooses, but to no avail. Not many but enough for a meal of fish curry and rice for lunch!The cycling down to Kathmandu from the border was perfect. High on the thick air we enjoyed standing up into the hills and speeding to the top, hardly breaking into a sweat. Butterflies flitted through the trees visiting lantana bushes while golden cockerels fled the road squawking loudly and angrily. All the way there were smiling children shouting their repertoire of English questions “what is your name” “how are you” and “which country” one kid shouted for us to watch his “monkey dance” as he jumped about in the road. Bicycles were scarce but rounding one corner a young cyclist saw us coming and broke into a race, his friends cheered him on and I must admit he was leading the way before we heard a hiss of air. The race was over as suddenly as it started but after helping him pump his tyre, we carried on, but very quickly the young racer’s tyre went flat again and this time there was nothing we could do.
As we neared Kathmandu the excitement grew and we began to cycle faster and faster! Looking back now I’m not quite sure what we were so excited about but at the time big city lights and pizza seemed quite inviting! During the last day before reaching Kathmandu we had a long climb of around 30km before we could descend into the city. It was novel to be sweating heavily after being layered up against the cold for so long. Climbing higher and higher, the patch-work quilt of fields and valleys gradually spread out beneath us. Coloured by dozens of different greens, hundreds of small irregularly shaped fields holding many different crops spread into the distance, occasionally cut by a rapidly flowing river carrying its cold water in the direction of the Bay of Bengal. Every ten kilometres or so a small roadside shop presented itself and a break would be made to down a cold coke. While sitting and resting most of the local kids would come over to investigate the strange foreigners and question us about our marital status. Shy at first they would whoop with joy when they discovered we could speak a few words of Nepali!
When we finally reached the top of the hill we stopped for lunch at what was apparently the best restaurant in town. The vegetable fried rice turned out to be ok but when Nils chicken curry arrived we all wondered what the thimble sized dish could hold. Nils argued with the owner who declared that chickens are extremely expensive in Nepal. We left our money and went back outside for a chai and cigarette but it wasn’t long before the restaurant owner was hanging out of his window shouting that Nils hadn’t paid. After a heated argument we climbed back on our bikes and left the irate owner to ponder the size of his chicken curries!
With just thirty or so kilometres to Kathmandu we cycled full speed dodging vehicles, people and animals on the increasingly busy roads. It was a shock to suddenly be in such a frenetic place but at the same time we enjoyed the cycling as full concentration was needed to avoid becoming road kill! Belching buses, rickshaws, motorbikes, cyclists, people, dogs and donkeys filled the road and kept us busy. The closer we came to the city the worse the traffic became until we swerved traffic jams and jumped red lights. With no map to help us find the tourist scrum known as Thamel we shouted through taxi windows as we passed looking for a nod to see if we were still heading in the right direction. Nils and I arrived first having lost Jo and Hayato sometime back. Hayato was still struggling with one gear so was having to push up some of the hills but still kept good speed and soon arrived, just after Jo.
And soon after arriving in Thamel the shock set in. Hundreds of thousands of useless shops selling crap, line the streets. There are hundreds more people trying to sell even more useless crap to tourists. The streets are so narrow and busy that acute claustrophobia quickly sets in and the innocent visitor who came here merely to get an Indian visa just wants to escape to the
tranquillity of Varanasi. Sir!, eucalyptus oil, postcards, charas, massage, hotel, taxi, money change, trek, giant pencil, dead rat? Hmm I’ll pass I think! Hayato and I decided to hightail it to India as quickly as possible and leave the rest of Nepal for a future trip. The plan was to visit Varanasi for a few days before taking a train to Mumbai and then cycling down the coast to Goa for Christmas.After three trips to the Indian embassy we were issued six month visas, so said farewell to Jo and Nils and took a bus to Varanasi. Jo and Nils planned to spend the next month in Nepal before coming down to meet us for Christmas in Goa. In Kathmandu we met Brian for the second time, the first being back up on a pass in Tibet. Brian was on a bicycle tour from Lhasa to Kathmandu and now planned to go backpacking for a while. He quickly decided to join us so bought a second-hand bike and jumped on the bus with us. Hayato also bought a new bike as his $200 Giant from kashgar wasn’t really looking too good after his sortie in Tibet! Definitely ready for the scrap heap!
Tuesday, 1 January 2008
Tibet. Over the last three months I have crossed northern China, entered Tibet and into Nepal and then the final leg of this part of the journey, India, covering just over 3000km. I must apologise for the delay in completing the report of this part of the journey as I know that many people have been checking regularly on my progress. A combination of the Chinese blocking my webpage for the two months in Tibet and lack of time has meant it has been a little tricky to put the time needed into doing this part of the trip full justice.
Cycling from Kashgar, China to the Chinese/Nepal border of Kodari has been the most testing part of the trip yet, but also the most rewarding in terms of natural scenery and people met. From Kashgar we spent around a week crossing the eastern fringes of the Taklimakan desert before climbing into the Kunlun Mountains, the start of the greatest mountain range of the world. We passed through Aksay chin (an area claimed by India but under Chinese administration) and then entered Tibet, cycling for around six weeks to reach Nepal, with a brief stop at the sacred Mt. Kailash to make a Kora. Towards the end of Tibet we left the western route and joined the Friendship Highway which took us down to the Nepalese border, an altitude drop of around 3000m in one day. From the border we continued down to Kathmandu, savouring the beautiful green landscape after so many months of treeless desert. In Kathmandu, Hayato and I quickly sorted out our Indian visas and along with an English guy, Brian, took a bus to Varanasi, India, where we caught a train to Mumbai where we began cycling again, south towards Goa for a Christmas break.
And now I sit in north Goa, sun shining, waves lapping on the beach and dolphins jumping in the Arabian Sea. After a couple of weeks here, it still hasn’t sunk in that I managed to cycle half way across the globe but I’m already getting itchy to get back in the saddle and go somewhere else and see new places. Maybe soon I’ll make a plan but only after I pull out one of the giant fish that have repeatedly snapped my line over the last few days.
From Kashgar I left with the two German guys Nils and Johannes after having prepared all our things. Bikes were fixed, some extra cold weather clothing bought and a mountain of snickers bars and other important food stuffs were packed into our bags. My bike was the heaviest it had been on the trip so far, weighing around 80kg. I didn’t look forward to taking such a heavy bike on bad roads and up huge passes but with a lack of good food in the coming three weeks on the way to Ali it was essential to try and eat well to build up strength for the high altitude crossing of Tibet.
The first week we cycled along the western edge of the Taklimakan desert which stretches east across Xinjiang province of China for 2000km. We passed south through beautiful Uyghur villages, the Uyghurs being the main people living in this area, a mix with heavy eastern Asian influences. Village roads are lined with tall swaying poplar trees with a backdrop of small fields where many different vegetables are grown in the rich soil, irrigated by numerous ditches bringing water from the rivers. Houses are built of mud with solid front doors and large court-yards where the people prepare the rich harvest, while chickens and goats scratch around. The Uyghurs are friendly people and usually showed keen interest in what we were doing and where we were going. Often a big group of interested people would surround us staring hard and discussing things amongst themselves being a little less forthcoming than people in Turkey and central Asia. The children in this area of China are always happy and friendly particularly when a camera emerges. Many small, smiling, giggling kids quickly collect from all corners of the village to pose and have their photos taken. Great fun was had everyday when stopping to have food, watching the kids, who were always shy at first but growing bolder, and eventually plucking up the courage to come and see what these strange foreigners were up to!
During the last few days in the desert the landscape became a little monotonous as the water began to dry up and suitable camping places out of sight of people became a little hard to find. One evening we passed along a river, the surrounding area covered by fields and trees and many small villages making a peaceful campsite a little hard to find. Eventually we searched out a grassy river bank to spend the night on, a little distance from the surrounding houses. Of course it wasn’t long before the first small head popped round the surrounding bushes and then quickly vanished. Soon ten or more small kids joined us and stared intently at everything we did. More kids came and went and some of the village elders came down to see us throughout the evening. Many photos had to be taken, with every kid posing with our cycle helmets on, holding this or that and when this got boring, with a sheep stolen from a passing shepherd, or in the river imitating a heron.
The evening passed and the children brought us some freshly made bread and later a water melon when we had finished cooking shashlyk over the fire. Slowly parents called the kids home before some of the men came and sat around the fire with us under the bright stars, smoking their pipes and talking with us before they too slowly drifted off for sleep. There was no need to pitch tents so the three of us lay by the river and went to sleep wondering what lay ahead in the coming months. In the morning before the sun was above the horizon the first small child was standing by waiting for something to happen. He was quickly joined by ten of his friends who whispered amongst one another, the excitement growing as the minutes ticked by. The whispering became louder and I reluctantly opened my eyes to see the group of eager onlookers smiling to each other happy that at last we were waking up. I signaled to them that we wanted to sleep and that they should be quiet. The silence continued for a few minutes then the whispering started again and quickly grew to talking and laughing as excitement grew. I pulled my sleeping bag over my head and tried to sleep a little longer but soon we had to pull ourselves out of our bags as the
group of villagers had grown to around twenty making sleep a little uncomfortable!
After a breakfast of more lovely fresh bread and melon we got back on the road and made our way to the Kunlun mountains where the cycling became a little more taxing as the roads became worse and altitude was gained. We left the dry plains and started to slowly climb into the mountains, through beautifully eroded valleys, the lower slopes covered by short grass, where some yaks and camels grazed. Soon the smooth Chinese asphalt came to an end and gave way to a relatively good gravel road that led up the first small pass of around 3000m altitude. The mountains here are beautiful. Sharply defined peaks against a dark blue backdrop, the slopes eroded over many years into a maze of gulley and valleys. We dropped down to the village of Kudi where we ended up staying a little longer than planned. We stayed in a small restaurant and slept in the back in the 6 bed dormitory. At around ten o’clock we had a visit from a very angry policeman demanding to take our passports. We declined his impolite request and tried to go back to sleep but he became a little more angry and in turn tried to get our passports. Thanks to this rudeness we weren’t too interested in handing over our passports so eventually he left with a copy of my passport and proceeded to have a big debate with the landlady. We knew there was a checkpoint at the end of the village so we planned to get up early and sneak through as we didn’t want further problems.
We left early but not early enough. We crept under the checkpoint and made off at high speed up the road, hearing one solitary shout from somewhere in the army compound behind us. Not looking back we made nearly a kilometre before a jeep screeched up the road and two angry army officers leapt out looking decidedly unhappy. They demanded our passports and then sent us back down the road to the checkpoint. After an hour of waiting we got our passports back and made tracks quickly but disaster occurred as I passed over a speed bump. My back rim split along its length. Carrying on wasn’t possible so we returned and made a plan. By many strokes of luck I had two new rims within two days, sent from Kashgar with the help of Benny and Mandy. Thanks very much guys!! I hope I can repay the favour someday.
So we were back on the road and after some delays trying to explain to the guards at the check point that we were there two days previously, we moved up into the mountains heading towards Aksay Chin and the ‘City” of Ali where Johannes and Nils would try and extend their Chinese visas as they were only able to obtain a month in Central Asia. We were a little behind time and had to try and work out how long the remaining 8-900km to Ali would take. We worked out that by covering between 50-60km a day would see us there in time. With harsh fines for overrunning a visa we needed to make tracks.
In September many cyclists pass through western Tibet and the route becomes more popular each year. Problems caused by the Chinese authorities seem to have decreased in the last couple of years but still there were reports of cyclists being sent back at various checkpoints and even reports of a mobile checkpoint that was popping up in various areas. In the first few weeks we met a German cyclist, Matthias, travelling in the opposite direction to us. Matthias had been cycling for 6 years so it was nice to share a few stories with him. He told us he had already seen 51 cyclists on the way to Lhasa or Kathmandu so with valid visas we should be ok with no permits.
The remaining two weeks to Ali became tough as the roads deteriorated and the temperatures dropped. Day after day we were rewarded with one spectacular mountainscape after another, continuous views of snowcapped peaks with lower slopes painted in a myriad of colours. Often we would see some antelope between the occasional huge flock of goats, bells ringing in soft melody as they slowly grazed the short grass of the mountain slopes. At first we climbed too fast into the high mountains as we needed to cover distance and couldn’t wait to acclimatize. One day saw an altitude gain of around 1500m. By the evening we were all exhausted and found an old road workers' building to sleep in. Johannes was suffering the most at this point and lay for most of the evening unable to do much. After a cold night with a distinct lack of sleep it was my turn to get a small dose of altitude sickness. When I woke my head felt like it had been smashed against a wall, aching more and more every time I moved. Nausea suddenly crept up my body and I felt like passing out at the sight of a bowl of porridge prepared by the others. We spend two hours waking up and drinking as much water as possible before climbing on our bikes and cycling up to the start of the big pass ahead. Soon I felt a little better but was not too keen to go higher so quickly and with the prospect of spending the next three months above 4500m I was a little worried. We knew that after a couple of days our bodies would adjust to the new conditions they were experiencing but of course we had our doubts whether it would be a fast process. Nils seemed to suffer the least but Johannes and I had constant headaches for the first two weeks caused by a combination of the altitude and the extremely corrugated road.
The bright sun didn’t help matters either. We climbed one of the high passes to an altitude of 5200 metres. Switch-back after switch-back could be seen snaking up the mountain ahead of us, my head throbbed and the road was bad, in places repair work was going on. For two hours we slowly crawled up leaving Andy the Swiss cyclist far behind. I spent the two or three hours to the top with my eyes open for a second at a time closing them for a few seconds before opening them again to relieve the pain caused by the intense glare of the sun. Sweat dripped from my face and made it impossible to wear my sunglasses. Eventually after immense effort we made it to the top and rested for a long time trying to let our bodies feel normal again. In these first few weeks, although not sweating so much due to cold temperatures, we had to drink up to eight litres of water to relieve our aching heads. Stopping every 30 minutes to take a slash then drinking more water even though we didn’t feel thirsty.
A few days earlier we had met three cyclists, two Germans and a Danish guy who were on a trip to climb a couple of unclimbed mountains. The German couple had cycled in Tibet before, so of course thought of us as the amateurs spoiling their special cycling place. We didn’t like them too much either as of course they had experience but were far too serious and secretive about things, which we could understand if they were talking to the Chinese but being like this to us gave us a very bad feeling. It didn’t help that we were faster than them! Every morning we would rise late because of the cold and see the expedition team crawl past us. After an hour when we had finally got our things together we would cycle and soon pass them much to their annoyance. This went on for nearly two weeks, everyday we thought we wouldn’t have to see them again but sure enough they would appear from around the corner or at the top of a 5000m pass sneering at us for lying around smoking cigarettes!
Before we reached Tibet proper we passed through the area of Aksay chin which according to my map is claimed by India but under Chinese administration. Aksay Chin is a beautiful area of flat plains interspersed with salt pans, all surrounded by wild snow-capped mountains, home to snow leopards, wolves and antelope. Towards the beginning of this stretch we loaded up with supplies as our route paper showed there were no shops for 231 km. The road through Aksay proved to be the worst yet, corrugated sand and gravel stretched for hundreds of kilometers ahead. The wind started as we dropped down from the Khitai Shankou pass to the plains below and didn’t stop for much of the coming weeks. Of course by the lore of cycling it was a head wind and it made covering any distance very hard work. The corrugated roads were difficult enough to cycle on, but combined with this wind meant we were slowed to 7-8km/h. Camping was also hard and we tried to find any bit of shelter in the evenings to make pitching
the tents and cooking a little easier. Not easy when there is nothing to be seen anywhere for miles around. Sometimes a hole would be found, left by road workers which made some nice shelter but these instances were rare. The exceptional scenery kept our spirits up and the early morning and late evening light was a photographers dream, bathing everything in a warm glow. Far off snowy peaks shined with a magnificent gold which slowly darkened and gave way to a diamond studded sky lit up with the occasional meteorite flitting overhead.
Andy, the Swiss cyclist would often join us but being a little slower we would lose him during the day but often he would catch up in the evening, meaning we could camp together. Andy suffered from the same visa problem as Johannes and Nils but was determined to cycle all the way to Ali even if it meant a hefty fine. As we neared Ali we decided we would have to take a truck across the border of Tibet to reach the visa office in time. A few days before we had met an American cyclist who had been put in jail for three days after overstaying his visa by 17 days. Given nothing but tea, the Chinese had demanded 1000 dollars which he had eventually bargained down to $100 before they released him. We weren’t keen on the same treatment so opted to catch a truck from Sumxi for a couple of hundred kilometers. We sat in a small tea house waiting all afternoon but trucks were a little scarce with some passing in the right direction only every few hours.
Eventually in the evening two trucks came that looked ok for carrying the bikes. Unfortunately the drivers didn’t look so hot but we had little choice but to go with them, so started some negotiations about price etc. It took a while to get them into action but soon we loaded up the bikes while trying to persuade Andy to come with us. By this time it was around 8 o’clock and snowing heavily. Andy stuck to his guns and stayed behind. We spent most of the night trying to keep the driver from falling asleep. His eyes would repeatedly close for three or four seconds and the truck would start to drift towards the edge of the road. A few times Nils grabbed the steering wheel but the driver seemed not to notice. After a few hours an argument broke out as the driver woke his sleeping friend demanding that he should drive. After a while places were changed and we felt much more at ease as the second driver was a little more alert than his wasted friend. In one way we were glad we weren’t cycling as the road was incredibly bad for the whole distance we sat in the truck, but with only 4 square inches of sitting space each it was one of the most uncomfortable drives of our lives. Nearly shaken to pieces, we couldn’t understand how the truck was still in one piece.
We were glad when the driver pulled up at the dirty truck stop town of Domar and we were able to stretch our legs for a few minutes, which turned into 4 hours thanks to the drivers disappearing to visit their prostitutes. We didn’t fancy leaving our bikes alone on the truck in this Wild West town so Nils slept on top of the truck in the snow while Johannes and I slept under the truck. Perhaps this was one of the coldest and worst nights sleep we had. The town didn’t sleep, people and trucks came and went, people argued and a guy shouted at his wife before hitting her, small children gawked at us and dogs roamed everywhere. Around seven in the morning the drivers emerged and we were on our way again, passing through some lovely valleys and past Pang Gong Tso lake inhabitated by many species of birds. We wished we could spend time here to see all the birds but it wasn’t to be. Soon we reached the start of a new section of asphalt and jumped down from the truck. It was a strange experience to so suddenly be on a perfectly smooth road after so many weeks of bone-jarring rattling. We stopped in Rutog, the first real Tibetan town we had seen, and ate lots of food and gawked at the Tibetans, women in their colourful dresses and the men looking like a cross between American Indians and Hollywood film stars. Most have long flowing black hair, sport big pilot sunglasses and cruise by on their musical motorbikes. Many people in the world try their hardest to be cool but most fail. The Tibetans don’t try hard but just ooze coolness for some reason, but at the same time are some of the warmest hearted people we met. A smile is always returned by a big wide grin from ear to ear. Unlike the Chinese who just stare at you as if you had just landed from the moon.
The wind continued but soon we were in Ali having met up with Natalie and Kurt, two Swiss cyclists and Hayato, the famous Japanese cyclist. We ate a celebratory arrival lunch as we were pleased to be almost half way to Katmandu. Afterwards we found a hotel and took a much needed shower as it had been a few weeks since the last scrub. Over the next few days we fixed our bikes, harassed the hotel staff for a massage and went to a few clubs to see some traditional Tibetan dancing. Ali is stuck in the middle of the mountains 1000’s of kilometers from anywhere but buzzes like a miniature city. Its not large and within 20 minutes its possible to walk across the whole city, but still 100’s of green taxis zip back and forth with no where to go, trapped in their oasis in the desert. Chinese abound and there is a strong military presence. Gambling, drinking and visiting the 100’s of local prostitutes seem to be the main thing the Chinese spend their free time on, but only after they have sold some of their worthless Chinese crap during the day.
We left Ali after a few days rest, Johannes and Nils with renewed visas and all of us with ‘Alien travel permits’ valid for the two coming two weeks. Other cyclists chose not to take permits but we were obliged by taking visa extensions. My visa was valid for three months but for the others to have permits and me not, was not a good idea.
From Ali we headed towards the sacred Kailash mountain, climbing out of the flat valley back into the high mountains. The coming weeks saw strong headwinds but the road in this section had been recently tarred which made for slightly easier cycling. We were now four as Hayato, the Japanese guy had joined us from Ali.
In Kashgar, Hayato had decided to cross Tibet by bicycle after seeing and speaking to other cyclists who were staying in the hotel. He bought a giant bicycle and some basic equipment, panniers, tent, stove and sleeping bag, all of pretty low quality. The main thing was he was determined to complete his challenge and I’m pleased to say he stuck it out despite some extremely tough days. Towards the end of Tibet his bike suffered with many broken spokes, was down to only one gear and other equipment like his tent was on the way out. Hayato never stopped smiling even when times were hard, when his chain fell off 100 times a day he soldiered on and made it through. Well done mate!
We arrived in Darchen, the small town by Mt. kailash, after around a week of cycling to be met by many tourists kitted out in the latest mountain climbing gear. We found a great place to stay with a lovely guy, Nima. Nima had been in India for a long time staying in Dharamsala so spoke good English meaning he could answer all our questions we had been dying to ask about Tibet. The combination of a pool table and Jackie Chan films in the evening made us lazy but after a day or two we left and spend two days walking around Kailash passing all the professional trekkers with their fancy equipment. We walked up to 5600m through the snow fields and met many high speed Tibet pilgrims with whom we found it hard to keep up. With thin training shoes and a grain sack strung over their backs containing a few supplies the Tibetans really showed the tourists how it should be done. The package tourists struggled along slowly in their bright expensive clothes finding the altitude hard to cope with, guides following with big oxygen cylinders but luckily for us we were acclimatized so had few problems. One girl broke down in tears and complained she couldn’t go on as her legs were becoming frozen solid.
We completed the Kora in two days and then rested a day before returning, having a great time playing pool and joking around with Nima. We saw Peter, the polish cyclist who I first met in Kashgar. Peter had to get to Delhi quickly to fly back home so unfortunately we had to say our good byes which was a shame as it would have been nice to cycle together.
We pushed on again with visa trouble starting as the month issued for the Germans was starting to pass. As the days passed Hayato had more and more troubles with his bike and Nils and Johannes argued more and more, sick of the sight of each other after nearly a year on the road together. With the peacefulness of Tibet, I found it difficult to cycle with the Germans so found myself trying to get some quiet time in front or behind. With time Johannes became quieter and would cycle a long way ahead every day. Hayato came and went as he didn’t want to hold us up but of course we wanted to stick with him and try and help him as much as possible. However the mood changed a little as the Germans wanted to move forward and Hayato was slowing us down. We came to the point where Hayato decided to break from us and cycle behind. In the morning after heavy snow fall we decided this was not a good idea so we all stayed together and pushed on through a blizzard.
Soon Hayato’s gears gave up so we removed the rear mech and shortened the chain meaning he cycled with just one gear. The loose chain repeatedly jumped off the rings and tested Hayato’s patience to the limit. Roads got worse and the occasional villages got more and more dirty and lacked any good food suitable for hungry cyclists. We survived on Chinese instant noddles and a little psampa along with lashings of yak butter tea. Not so good when you’re craving a decent piece of meat. The cold weather, bad food, shitty roads and high altitude was really sapping my power and making every day harder and harder. We rode like we were programmed; get up in the morning, make coffee while trying to thaw our fingers and toes, then cycle 50 or 60 km before cooking and trying to get some sleep. I never slept well, as temperatures in the last month plummeted to around -15 oC at night. Luckily it was warmer in the day when the bright sun shone. At night I would wear three pairs of trousers, six shirts, and then stuff the rest of my clothes in the sleeping bag and would still be cold all night. My sleeping bag is rated to minus 20 but after months of use the temperate rating had obviously dropped! The fact that my thermarest goes flat after an hour didn’t help matters either. Each night I would wake 7 or 8 time and have the most vivid dreams often waking with a start, gasping for oxygen. The "dreams" were usually horrible nightmares. Not good when all I wanted was a few hours of decent sleep.
We turned off the main highway at Saga and took the shortcut to the Friendship Highway that runs from Lhasa down to Nepal. We were nearing our goal and as the days passed we talked about Kathmandu more and more, getting excited at the prospect of good food. Nils and Johannes argued more and more too, erupting one day in the worst argument yet. I tried to intervene and calm them a little and remind them in just a few days they could go their separate ways. It seemed a shame to ruin a good friendship over trivial things that only surface because of months of travelling together which is quite normal when anyone spends so long together.
The road along the shortcut to the Friendship Highway was smooth to begin with but deteriorated the further we went. We only saw Tibetan along this section and no Chinese which was nice. We sometimes stopped with the nomads to ask for water which would usually result in us staying for a while to drink yak butter tea. It was incredibly interesting to see these guys still living a traditional life with no modern conveniences. They are nearly completely self sufficient with yaks and goats playing a big role in their lives. Yak hair provides materials for clothing and shelter, and the rest vital meat and dairy products. Without these amazing animals life really would be a struggle at these high altitudes.
We passed impressive cobalt blue lakes sometimes shaded by puffy white clouds passing overhead and with the magnificent Shishapangma Mountain as the back drop. Here we could see the true Himalaya range, which is really a sight to behold. Big snow capped giants disappear to the horizons forming a barrier to Pakistan and in the other direction to eastern China and Myanmar. These mountains would be our last challenge before we would start the descent to Nepal.
We imagined the Friendship Highway would be more cyclist-friendly in regards to road conditions, but when we reached it we were disappointed to see corrugations continuing into the distance. People changed fast too. More used to seeing tourists, they expected something for nothing and were generally less pleasant to be around. We saw many rich tourists zipping past on expensive package tours, safely tucked away in their air conditioned land cruisers. Many gawked out the widows and tried to take a photo of us as they passed. A Tibetan tried to sell us a goat that was nearly dead but we declined and slowly climbed the big pass up to 5200m. At the top we came across cyclists on package tours, all their equipment safely tucked away in their accompanying truck. Most sported shiny lycra and rode the best bikes and seemed to think they were a little special. Maybe they felt stupid for paying 1000’s of dollars for covering the same route when we payed nothing.
Over the last few days in Tibet we fought headwinds and rattled slowly along the corrugated road, Nils and Johannes anxious to reach the border before their visa’s expired. After the second to last pass we made camp in the valley below, having left Hayato the day before as he wanted to travel more slowly and had the feeling he was holding us up. It was strange to leave him after so long cycling together but around 10 o’clock in the evening we had a nice surprise. Having given up hope of seeing him again before Nepal we drank a last coffee while trying to keep warm in the plummeting evening temperatures. Just before we said our goodnights, we saw something moving across the bridge in the bright moonlight. Of course it was Hayato, how it was possible we didn’t know. The road had been so bad for the previous 60km meaning it was nearly impossible for Hayato to ride his bike without the chain jumping off every 3 seconds. And of course the 5000m + pass was a small problem with only one gear. Everyone was ecstatic to be together again and we quickly brewed coffee and listened to Hayato tell us how he had pushed for nearly 60km and then crossed the pass in the dark, with only the moonlight to aid him. Quite a feat, hats off to one of the best cyclists around.
So the next day we continued, with only a few days left in Tibet, Hayato and I stayed back while Jo and Nils raced for the border. We stopped and drank tea with a Tibetan family. A young boy looked at my camera and kindly deleted all the photos from the last and maybe the most beautiful pass. I was too late to stop him but what can you do. Amazing people who offered to give us lunch but we had to refuse and just take gallons of yak butter tea. We carried on and caught the others in the morning as they were still busy packing up.
The following day proved to be one of the most amazing days cycling of the whole trip. We dropped from high altitude Tibetan grasslands in the morning to the thick Nepalese forest by the evening, an altitude drop of nearly 3000m. In the morning all our water was frozen and we shivered while packing our tents away, by the evening we sweated and rode in shorts and t-shirts with butterflies flitting past and birds singing amongst the flowers. As the day passed, yaks became fewer and trees increased. First some small birch and cotoneaster could be seen, and then soon bamboos and conifers started to spring from the steep craggy slopes that surrounded us. The temperature quickly climbed and things became more and more green until we were surrounded by life, cicadas chirping and waterfalls cascading down the high mountains, from the high snowcapped peaks above.
I rode with Nils, Hayato and Johannes following a little way behind. We couldn’t stop smiling as we passed the continually changing landscape. We stopped every half an hour to admire the views and take everything in. The road down through the Chinese and Nepalese border was one big building site, lined with road worker’s huts, housing both Tibetan and Chinese labourers. Cycling was difficult as deep mud often covered the road and rivers had to be crossed as no bridges had yet been built. Before we knew it we arrived in Nepal, everything new and different. People no longer shouted Ni Hao but Namaste instead and smiled more warmly. What an amazing feeling it was to be able to eat curry again and easily buy fresh fruit and vegetables.
We met a Nepalese guy who suggested we cycle another 7 km from the border to the village of Tatopani (hot water in nepalese), where there was a hot spring. We were there as quickly as possible and were soon scrubbing nearly a months worth of dirt and sweat from our bodies. After a lovely dinner of curry washed down with some cold beers we slept long and soundly before rising and making our way through the lush green landscape to Kathmandu.
More coming soon,
Scott.
Cycling from Kashgar, China to the Chinese/Nepal border of Kodari has been the most testing part of the trip yet, but also the most rewarding in terms of natural scenery and people met. From Kashgar we spent around a week crossing the eastern fringes of the Taklimakan desert before climbing into the Kunlun Mountains, the start of the greatest mountain range of the world. We passed through Aksay chin (an area claimed by India but under Chinese administration) and then entered Tibet, cycling for around six weeks to reach Nepal, with a brief stop at the sacred Mt. Kailash to make a Kora. Towards the end of Tibet we left the western route and joined the Friendship Highway which took us down to the Nepalese border, an altitude drop of around 3000m in one day. From the border we continued down to Kathmandu, savouring the beautiful green landscape after so many months of treeless desert. In Kathmandu, Hayato and I quickly sorted out our Indian visas and along with an English guy, Brian, took a bus to Varanasi, India, where we caught a train to Mumbai where we began cycling again, south towards Goa for a Christmas break.
And now I sit in north Goa, sun shining, waves lapping on the beach and dolphins jumping in the Arabian Sea. After a couple of weeks here, it still hasn’t sunk in that I managed to cycle half way across the globe but I’m already getting itchy to get back in the saddle and go somewhere else and see new places. Maybe soon I’ll make a plan but only after I pull out one of the giant fish that have repeatedly snapped my line over the last few days.
From Kashgar I left with the two German guys Nils and Johannes after having prepared all our things. Bikes were fixed, some extra cold weather clothing bought and a mountain of snickers bars and other important food stuffs were packed into our bags. My bike was the heaviest it had been on the trip so far, weighing around 80kg. I didn’t look forward to taking such a heavy bike on bad roads and up huge passes but with a lack of good food in the coming three weeks on the way to Ali it was essential to try and eat well to build up strength for the high altitude crossing of Tibet.
The first week we cycled along the western edge of the Taklimakan desert which stretches east across Xinjiang province of China for 2000km. We passed south through beautiful Uyghur villages, the Uyghurs being the main people living in this area, a mix with heavy eastern Asian influences. Village roads are lined with tall swaying poplar trees with a backdrop of small fields where many different vegetables are grown in the rich soil, irrigated by numerous ditches bringing water from the rivers. Houses are built of mud with solid front doors and large court-yards where the people prepare the rich harvest, while chickens and goats scratch around. The Uyghurs are friendly people and usually showed keen interest in what we were doing and where we were going. Often a big group of interested people would surround us staring hard and discussing things amongst themselves being a little less forthcoming than people in Turkey and central Asia. The children in this area of China are always happy and friendly particularly when a camera emerges. Many small, smiling, giggling kids quickly collect from all corners of the village to pose and have their photos taken. Great fun was had everyday when stopping to have food, watching the kids, who were always shy at first but growing bolder, and eventually plucking up the courage to come and see what these strange foreigners were up to!
During the last few days in the desert the landscape became a little monotonous as the water began to dry up and suitable camping places out of sight of people became a little hard to find. One evening we passed along a river, the surrounding area covered by fields and trees and many small villages making a peaceful campsite a little hard to find. Eventually we searched out a grassy river bank to spend the night on, a little distance from the surrounding houses. Of course it wasn’t long before the first small head popped round the surrounding bushes and then quickly vanished. Soon ten or more small kids joined us and stared intently at everything we did. More kids came and went and some of the village elders came down to see us throughout the evening. Many photos had to be taken, with every kid posing with our cycle helmets on, holding this or that and when this got boring, with a sheep stolen from a passing shepherd, or in the river imitating a heron.
The evening passed and the children brought us some freshly made bread and later a water melon when we had finished cooking shashlyk over the fire. Slowly parents called the kids home before some of the men came and sat around the fire with us under the bright stars, smoking their pipes and talking with us before they too slowly drifted off for sleep. There was no need to pitch tents so the three of us lay by the river and went to sleep wondering what lay ahead in the coming months. In the morning before the sun was above the horizon the first small child was standing by waiting for something to happen. He was quickly joined by ten of his friends who whispered amongst one another, the excitement growing as the minutes ticked by. The whispering became louder and I reluctantly opened my eyes to see the group of eager onlookers smiling to each other happy that at last we were waking up. I signaled to them that we wanted to sleep and that they should be quiet. The silence continued for a few minutes then the whispering started again and quickly grew to talking and laughing as excitement grew. I pulled my sleeping bag over my head and tried to sleep a little longer but soon we had to pull ourselves out of our bags as the
group of villagers had grown to around twenty making sleep a little uncomfortable!
After a breakfast of more lovely fresh bread and melon we got back on the road and made our way to the Kunlun mountains where the cycling became a little more taxing as the roads became worse and altitude was gained. We left the dry plains and started to slowly climb into the mountains, through beautifully eroded valleys, the lower slopes covered by short grass, where some yaks and camels grazed. Soon the smooth Chinese asphalt came to an end and gave way to a relatively good gravel road that led up the first small pass of around 3000m altitude. The mountains here are beautiful. Sharply defined peaks against a dark blue backdrop, the slopes eroded over many years into a maze of gulley and valleys. We dropped down to the village of Kudi where we ended up staying a little longer than planned. We stayed in a small restaurant and slept in the back in the 6 bed dormitory. At around ten o’clock we had a visit from a very angry policeman demanding to take our passports. We declined his impolite request and tried to go back to sleep but he became a little more angry and in turn tried to get our passports. Thanks to this rudeness we weren’t too interested in handing over our passports so eventually he left with a copy of my passport and proceeded to have a big debate with the landlady. We knew there was a checkpoint at the end of the village so we planned to get up early and sneak through as we didn’t want further problems.
We left early but not early enough. We crept under the checkpoint and made off at high speed up the road, hearing one solitary shout from somewhere in the army compound behind us. Not looking back we made nearly a kilometre before a jeep screeched up the road and two angry army officers leapt out looking decidedly unhappy. They demanded our passports and then sent us back down the road to the checkpoint. After an hour of waiting we got our passports back and made tracks quickly but disaster occurred as I passed over a speed bump. My back rim split along its length. Carrying on wasn’t possible so we returned and made a plan. By many strokes of luck I had two new rims within two days, sent from Kashgar with the help of Benny and Mandy. Thanks very much guys!! I hope I can repay the favour someday.
So we were back on the road and after some delays trying to explain to the guards at the check point that we were there two days previously, we moved up into the mountains heading towards Aksay Chin and the ‘City” of Ali where Johannes and Nils would try and extend their Chinese visas as they were only able to obtain a month in Central Asia. We were a little behind time and had to try and work out how long the remaining 8-900km to Ali would take. We worked out that by covering between 50-60km a day would see us there in time. With harsh fines for overrunning a visa we needed to make tracks.
In September many cyclists pass through western Tibet and the route becomes more popular each year. Problems caused by the Chinese authorities seem to have decreased in the last couple of years but still there were reports of cyclists being sent back at various checkpoints and even reports of a mobile checkpoint that was popping up in various areas. In the first few weeks we met a German cyclist, Matthias, travelling in the opposite direction to us. Matthias had been cycling for 6 years so it was nice to share a few stories with him. He told us he had already seen 51 cyclists on the way to Lhasa or Kathmandu so with valid visas we should be ok with no permits.
The remaining two weeks to Ali became tough as the roads deteriorated and the temperatures dropped. Day after day we were rewarded with one spectacular mountainscape after another, continuous views of snowcapped peaks with lower slopes painted in a myriad of colours. Often we would see some antelope between the occasional huge flock of goats, bells ringing in soft melody as they slowly grazed the short grass of the mountain slopes. At first we climbed too fast into the high mountains as we needed to cover distance and couldn’t wait to acclimatize. One day saw an altitude gain of around 1500m. By the evening we were all exhausted and found an old road workers' building to sleep in. Johannes was suffering the most at this point and lay for most of the evening unable to do much. After a cold night with a distinct lack of sleep it was my turn to get a small dose of altitude sickness. When I woke my head felt like it had been smashed against a wall, aching more and more every time I moved. Nausea suddenly crept up my body and I felt like passing out at the sight of a bowl of porridge prepared by the others. We spend two hours waking up and drinking as much water as possible before climbing on our bikes and cycling up to the start of the big pass ahead. Soon I felt a little better but was not too keen to go higher so quickly and with the prospect of spending the next three months above 4500m I was a little worried. We knew that after a couple of days our bodies would adjust to the new conditions they were experiencing but of course we had our doubts whether it would be a fast process. Nils seemed to suffer the least but Johannes and I had constant headaches for the first two weeks caused by a combination of the altitude and the extremely corrugated road.
The bright sun didn’t help matters either. We climbed one of the high passes to an altitude of 5200 metres. Switch-back after switch-back could be seen snaking up the mountain ahead of us, my head throbbed and the road was bad, in places repair work was going on. For two hours we slowly crawled up leaving Andy the Swiss cyclist far behind. I spent the two or three hours to the top with my eyes open for a second at a time closing them for a few seconds before opening them again to relieve the pain caused by the intense glare of the sun. Sweat dripped from my face and made it impossible to wear my sunglasses. Eventually after immense effort we made it to the top and rested for a long time trying to let our bodies feel normal again. In these first few weeks, although not sweating so much due to cold temperatures, we had to drink up to eight litres of water to relieve our aching heads. Stopping every 30 minutes to take a slash then drinking more water even though we didn’t feel thirsty.
A few days earlier we had met three cyclists, two Germans and a Danish guy who were on a trip to climb a couple of unclimbed mountains. The German couple had cycled in Tibet before, so of course thought of us as the amateurs spoiling their special cycling place. We didn’t like them too much either as of course they had experience but were far too serious and secretive about things, which we could understand if they were talking to the Chinese but being like this to us gave us a very bad feeling. It didn’t help that we were faster than them! Every morning we would rise late because of the cold and see the expedition team crawl past us. After an hour when we had finally got our things together we would cycle and soon pass them much to their annoyance. This went on for nearly two weeks, everyday we thought we wouldn’t have to see them again but sure enough they would appear from around the corner or at the top of a 5000m pass sneering at us for lying around smoking cigarettes!
Before we reached Tibet proper we passed through the area of Aksay chin which according to my map is claimed by India but under Chinese administration. Aksay Chin is a beautiful area of flat plains interspersed with salt pans, all surrounded by wild snow-capped mountains, home to snow leopards, wolves and antelope. Towards the beginning of this stretch we loaded up with supplies as our route paper showed there were no shops for 231 km. The road through Aksay proved to be the worst yet, corrugated sand and gravel stretched for hundreds of kilometers ahead. The wind started as we dropped down from the Khitai Shankou pass to the plains below and didn’t stop for much of the coming weeks. Of course by the lore of cycling it was a head wind and it made covering any distance very hard work. The corrugated roads were difficult enough to cycle on, but combined with this wind meant we were slowed to 7-8km/h. Camping was also hard and we tried to find any bit of shelter in the evenings to make pitching
the tents and cooking a little easier. Not easy when there is nothing to be seen anywhere for miles around. Sometimes a hole would be found, left by road workers which made some nice shelter but these instances were rare. The exceptional scenery kept our spirits up and the early morning and late evening light was a photographers dream, bathing everything in a warm glow. Far off snowy peaks shined with a magnificent gold which slowly darkened and gave way to a diamond studded sky lit up with the occasional meteorite flitting overhead.
Andy, the Swiss cyclist would often join us but being a little slower we would lose him during the day but often he would catch up in the evening, meaning we could camp together. Andy suffered from the same visa problem as Johannes and Nils but was determined to cycle all the way to Ali even if it meant a hefty fine. As we neared Ali we decided we would have to take a truck across the border of Tibet to reach the visa office in time. A few days before we had met an American cyclist who had been put in jail for three days after overstaying his visa by 17 days. Given nothing but tea, the Chinese had demanded 1000 dollars which he had eventually bargained down to $100 before they released him. We weren’t keen on the same treatment so opted to catch a truck from Sumxi for a couple of hundred kilometers. We sat in a small tea house waiting all afternoon but trucks were a little scarce with some passing in the right direction only every few hours.
Eventually in the evening two trucks came that looked ok for carrying the bikes. Unfortunately the drivers didn’t look so hot but we had little choice but to go with them, so started some negotiations about price etc. It took a while to get them into action but soon we loaded up the bikes while trying to persuade Andy to come with us. By this time it was around 8 o’clock and snowing heavily. Andy stuck to his guns and stayed behind. We spent most of the night trying to keep the driver from falling asleep. His eyes would repeatedly close for three or four seconds and the truck would start to drift towards the edge of the road. A few times Nils grabbed the steering wheel but the driver seemed not to notice. After a few hours an argument broke out as the driver woke his sleeping friend demanding that he should drive. After a while places were changed and we felt much more at ease as the second driver was a little more alert than his wasted friend. In one way we were glad we weren’t cycling as the road was incredibly bad for the whole distance we sat in the truck, but with only 4 square inches of sitting space each it was one of the most uncomfortable drives of our lives. Nearly shaken to pieces, we couldn’t understand how the truck was still in one piece.
We were glad when the driver pulled up at the dirty truck stop town of Domar and we were able to stretch our legs for a few minutes, which turned into 4 hours thanks to the drivers disappearing to visit their prostitutes. We didn’t fancy leaving our bikes alone on the truck in this Wild West town so Nils slept on top of the truck in the snow while Johannes and I slept under the truck. Perhaps this was one of the coldest and worst nights sleep we had. The town didn’t sleep, people and trucks came and went, people argued and a guy shouted at his wife before hitting her, small children gawked at us and dogs roamed everywhere. Around seven in the morning the drivers emerged and we were on our way again, passing through some lovely valleys and past Pang Gong Tso lake inhabitated by many species of birds. We wished we could spend time here to see all the birds but it wasn’t to be. Soon we reached the start of a new section of asphalt and jumped down from the truck. It was a strange experience to so suddenly be on a perfectly smooth road after so many weeks of bone-jarring rattling. We stopped in Rutog, the first real Tibetan town we had seen, and ate lots of food and gawked at the Tibetans, women in their colourful dresses and the men looking like a cross between American Indians and Hollywood film stars. Most have long flowing black hair, sport big pilot sunglasses and cruise by on their musical motorbikes. Many people in the world try their hardest to be cool but most fail. The Tibetans don’t try hard but just ooze coolness for some reason, but at the same time are some of the warmest hearted people we met. A smile is always returned by a big wide grin from ear to ear. Unlike the Chinese who just stare at you as if you had just landed from the moon.
The wind continued but soon we were in Ali having met up with Natalie and Kurt, two Swiss cyclists and Hayato, the famous Japanese cyclist. We ate a celebratory arrival lunch as we were pleased to be almost half way to Katmandu. Afterwards we found a hotel and took a much needed shower as it had been a few weeks since the last scrub. Over the next few days we fixed our bikes, harassed the hotel staff for a massage and went to a few clubs to see some traditional Tibetan dancing. Ali is stuck in the middle of the mountains 1000’s of kilometers from anywhere but buzzes like a miniature city. Its not large and within 20 minutes its possible to walk across the whole city, but still 100’s of green taxis zip back and forth with no where to go, trapped in their oasis in the desert. Chinese abound and there is a strong military presence. Gambling, drinking and visiting the 100’s of local prostitutes seem to be the main thing the Chinese spend their free time on, but only after they have sold some of their worthless Chinese crap during the day.
We left Ali after a few days rest, Johannes and Nils with renewed visas and all of us with ‘Alien travel permits’ valid for the two coming two weeks. Other cyclists chose not to take permits but we were obliged by taking visa extensions. My visa was valid for three months but for the others to have permits and me not, was not a good idea.
From Ali we headed towards the sacred Kailash mountain, climbing out of the flat valley back into the high mountains. The coming weeks saw strong headwinds but the road in this section had been recently tarred which made for slightly easier cycling. We were now four as Hayato, the Japanese guy had joined us from Ali.
In Kashgar, Hayato had decided to cross Tibet by bicycle after seeing and speaking to other cyclists who were staying in the hotel. He bought a giant bicycle and some basic equipment, panniers, tent, stove and sleeping bag, all of pretty low quality. The main thing was he was determined to complete his challenge and I’m pleased to say he stuck it out despite some extremely tough days. Towards the end of Tibet his bike suffered with many broken spokes, was down to only one gear and other equipment like his tent was on the way out. Hayato never stopped smiling even when times were hard, when his chain fell off 100 times a day he soldiered on and made it through. Well done mate!
We arrived in Darchen, the small town by Mt. kailash, after around a week of cycling to be met by many tourists kitted out in the latest mountain climbing gear. We found a great place to stay with a lovely guy, Nima. Nima had been in India for a long time staying in Dharamsala so spoke good English meaning he could answer all our questions we had been dying to ask about Tibet. The combination of a pool table and Jackie Chan films in the evening made us lazy but after a day or two we left and spend two days walking around Kailash passing all the professional trekkers with their fancy equipment. We walked up to 5600m through the snow fields and met many high speed Tibet pilgrims with whom we found it hard to keep up. With thin training shoes and a grain sack strung over their backs containing a few supplies the Tibetans really showed the tourists how it should be done. The package tourists struggled along slowly in their bright expensive clothes finding the altitude hard to cope with, guides following with big oxygen cylinders but luckily for us we were acclimatized so had few problems. One girl broke down in tears and complained she couldn’t go on as her legs were becoming frozen solid.
We completed the Kora in two days and then rested a day before returning, having a great time playing pool and joking around with Nima. We saw Peter, the polish cyclist who I first met in Kashgar. Peter had to get to Delhi quickly to fly back home so unfortunately we had to say our good byes which was a shame as it would have been nice to cycle together.
We pushed on again with visa trouble starting as the month issued for the Germans was starting to pass. As the days passed Hayato had more and more troubles with his bike and Nils and Johannes argued more and more, sick of the sight of each other after nearly a year on the road together. With the peacefulness of Tibet, I found it difficult to cycle with the Germans so found myself trying to get some quiet time in front or behind. With time Johannes became quieter and would cycle a long way ahead every day. Hayato came and went as he didn’t want to hold us up but of course we wanted to stick with him and try and help him as much as possible. However the mood changed a little as the Germans wanted to move forward and Hayato was slowing us down. We came to the point where Hayato decided to break from us and cycle behind. In the morning after heavy snow fall we decided this was not a good idea so we all stayed together and pushed on through a blizzard.
Soon Hayato’s gears gave up so we removed the rear mech and shortened the chain meaning he cycled with just one gear. The loose chain repeatedly jumped off the rings and tested Hayato’s patience to the limit. Roads got worse and the occasional villages got more and more dirty and lacked any good food suitable for hungry cyclists. We survived on Chinese instant noddles and a little psampa along with lashings of yak butter tea. Not so good when you’re craving a decent piece of meat. The cold weather, bad food, shitty roads and high altitude was really sapping my power and making every day harder and harder. We rode like we were programmed; get up in the morning, make coffee while trying to thaw our fingers and toes, then cycle 50 or 60 km before cooking and trying to get some sleep. I never slept well, as temperatures in the last month plummeted to around -15 oC at night. Luckily it was warmer in the day when the bright sun shone. At night I would wear three pairs of trousers, six shirts, and then stuff the rest of my clothes in the sleeping bag and would still be cold all night. My sleeping bag is rated to minus 20 but after months of use the temperate rating had obviously dropped! The fact that my thermarest goes flat after an hour didn’t help matters either. Each night I would wake 7 or 8 time and have the most vivid dreams often waking with a start, gasping for oxygen. The "dreams" were usually horrible nightmares. Not good when all I wanted was a few hours of decent sleep.
We turned off the main highway at Saga and took the shortcut to the Friendship Highway that runs from Lhasa down to Nepal. We were nearing our goal and as the days passed we talked about Kathmandu more and more, getting excited at the prospect of good food. Nils and Johannes argued more and more too, erupting one day in the worst argument yet. I tried to intervene and calm them a little and remind them in just a few days they could go their separate ways. It seemed a shame to ruin a good friendship over trivial things that only surface because of months of travelling together which is quite normal when anyone spends so long together.
The road along the shortcut to the Friendship Highway was smooth to begin with but deteriorated the further we went. We only saw Tibetan along this section and no Chinese which was nice. We sometimes stopped with the nomads to ask for water which would usually result in us staying for a while to drink yak butter tea. It was incredibly interesting to see these guys still living a traditional life with no modern conveniences. They are nearly completely self sufficient with yaks and goats playing a big role in their lives. Yak hair provides materials for clothing and shelter, and the rest vital meat and dairy products. Without these amazing animals life really would be a struggle at these high altitudes.
We passed impressive cobalt blue lakes sometimes shaded by puffy white clouds passing overhead and with the magnificent Shishapangma Mountain as the back drop. Here we could see the true Himalaya range, which is really a sight to behold. Big snow capped giants disappear to the horizons forming a barrier to Pakistan and in the other direction to eastern China and Myanmar. These mountains would be our last challenge before we would start the descent to Nepal.
We imagined the Friendship Highway would be more cyclist-friendly in regards to road conditions, but when we reached it we were disappointed to see corrugations continuing into the distance. People changed fast too. More used to seeing tourists, they expected something for nothing and were generally less pleasant to be around. We saw many rich tourists zipping past on expensive package tours, safely tucked away in their air conditioned land cruisers. Many gawked out the widows and tried to take a photo of us as they passed. A Tibetan tried to sell us a goat that was nearly dead but we declined and slowly climbed the big pass up to 5200m. At the top we came across cyclists on package tours, all their equipment safely tucked away in their accompanying truck. Most sported shiny lycra and rode the best bikes and seemed to think they were a little special. Maybe they felt stupid for paying 1000’s of dollars for covering the same route when we payed nothing.
Over the last few days in Tibet we fought headwinds and rattled slowly along the corrugated road, Nils and Johannes anxious to reach the border before their visa’s expired. After the second to last pass we made camp in the valley below, having left Hayato the day before as he wanted to travel more slowly and had the feeling he was holding us up. It was strange to leave him after so long cycling together but around 10 o’clock in the evening we had a nice surprise. Having given up hope of seeing him again before Nepal we drank a last coffee while trying to keep warm in the plummeting evening temperatures. Just before we said our goodnights, we saw something moving across the bridge in the bright moonlight. Of course it was Hayato, how it was possible we didn’t know. The road had been so bad for the previous 60km meaning it was nearly impossible for Hayato to ride his bike without the chain jumping off every 3 seconds. And of course the 5000m + pass was a small problem with only one gear. Everyone was ecstatic to be together again and we quickly brewed coffee and listened to Hayato tell us how he had pushed for nearly 60km and then crossed the pass in the dark, with only the moonlight to aid him. Quite a feat, hats off to one of the best cyclists around.
So the next day we continued, with only a few days left in Tibet, Hayato and I stayed back while Jo and Nils raced for the border. We stopped and drank tea with a Tibetan family. A young boy looked at my camera and kindly deleted all the photos from the last and maybe the most beautiful pass. I was too late to stop him but what can you do. Amazing people who offered to give us lunch but we had to refuse and just take gallons of yak butter tea. We carried on and caught the others in the morning as they were still busy packing up.
The following day proved to be one of the most amazing days cycling of the whole trip. We dropped from high altitude Tibetan grasslands in the morning to the thick Nepalese forest by the evening, an altitude drop of nearly 3000m. In the morning all our water was frozen and we shivered while packing our tents away, by the evening we sweated and rode in shorts and t-shirts with butterflies flitting past and birds singing amongst the flowers. As the day passed, yaks became fewer and trees increased. First some small birch and cotoneaster could be seen, and then soon bamboos and conifers started to spring from the steep craggy slopes that surrounded us. The temperature quickly climbed and things became more and more green until we were surrounded by life, cicadas chirping and waterfalls cascading down the high mountains, from the high snowcapped peaks above.
I rode with Nils, Hayato and Johannes following a little way behind. We couldn’t stop smiling as we passed the continually changing landscape. We stopped every half an hour to admire the views and take everything in. The road down through the Chinese and Nepalese border was one big building site, lined with road worker’s huts, housing both Tibetan and Chinese labourers. Cycling was difficult as deep mud often covered the road and rivers had to be crossed as no bridges had yet been built. Before we knew it we arrived in Nepal, everything new and different. People no longer shouted Ni Hao but Namaste instead and smiled more warmly. What an amazing feeling it was to be able to eat curry again and easily buy fresh fruit and vegetables.
We met a Nepalese guy who suggested we cycle another 7 km from the border to the village of Tatopani (hot water in nepalese), where there was a hot spring. We were there as quickly as possible and were soon scrubbing nearly a months worth of dirt and sweat from our bodies. After a lovely dinner of curry washed down with some cold beers we slept long and soundly before rising and making our way through the lush green landscape to Kathmandu.
More coming soon,
Scott.
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