Back in Bishkek, once again.

So if you could get points for the number of days you stayed in a place longer than you expected, and there was a worldwide competition, I'm pretty sure i'd win hands down... About a month and ago I planned to spend a few days in Bishkek, mainly to organise a few visas and then move on down the road.

It is now a day away from November, I have one visa (which I got my second day in Bishkek), and i'm still here. Granted I have almost iron-clad intentions of leaving this city in the next 3 hours, but who knows what might happen in the enigma that is Bishkek.

In the last two weeks I've been to a eagle and dog hunting festival in the middle of nowwhere, the biggest animal market this side of Kashgar, also in the middle of nowhere, been held up in a blizzard by a farmer with a pitchfork (he chickened out in the end) and had my worst bicycle accident yet (the bike was in the boot of a car at the time)

For the last week, me and Chris (the American Lada driver/photographer) have been travelling around lake Issy Kul in the East and down into the central South of Kyrgyzstan, taking pictures and eating almost continuously. Our triumphant return to Bishkek was delayed by a day when our host woke us up in the morning with "why don't you guys stay another day and we'll cook up a sheep tonight?" (my translation of the russian...)

This set the course of the day, we drove the lada (a beautiful feat of soviet engineering) cross paddock, picked up a nice juicy 'baran' (sheep) and hauled him home in the boot. After a swift execution in the middle of the driveway, all the tasty looking meaty bits were swiftly removed, and placed somewhere far away... and the real work began. Every piece of stomach, hoof, head, bladder and bowel on the other hand were prepared with love; braided, stuffed, roasted over an open flame. In the evening we sat down to a large plate of what would be considered off-cuts back home, and everyone (...bar two slightly nautious foreigners) loved it!

So, i'm not promising anything, but if all goes to plan, this may in fact be the last message from Biskek...

Bishkek baby!

So they say that when Kyrgyz men go over to Russia for work, they cram as many guys as possible into a tiny little apartment, to save cash to send back home. Apparently, there's two different rates for accomodation in these flats. You can pay 50 roubles and sleep on your back, or 25 and sleep on your side.

In keeping with this fine Kyrgyz tradition, my accomodation in Bishkek for the past week and a half has been the delightful strip of floor between the foot of Chris and Grisha (the rentpayers) beds, and the wall. With the only remaining section of useable floor in our one bedroom ex-soviet flat taken up by Marcus the Finnish Hitchhiker, extreme caution must be exercised when waking to use the bathroom at night.

Bishkek is a brillliantthis time food is not the number one reason for my opinion on the subject. Somehow the last week and a half have vanished into a vortex of good times and great people that have made the town feel like home, even though I don't speak the language, can't read most street signs, and have developed the ability to get lost on a regular basis in the streets.

My main reason for hanging about Bishkek was to collect visas. Visa collection is not like collecting stamps or records or butterflies. Those things are fun, at least for some people. Visa collection is like a little bit like stubbing your toe on the edge of a chair, then taking a step back and slamming your toe into the chair again, and again, and again. If you continue to slam your toe effectively, sometimes you get a sticker in your passport that lets you into the next country. I ended up scraping through with 50% of the visas I wanted, no thanks the the lazy bloody Tajik travel agent who never sent through my paperwork...

My relatively unsuccessful visa escapade more than compensated by the copious amount of fun times and good people. In two weeks I was introduced to the worlds of (in no particular order); Dutch street art, American wit (or lack thereof), Lomography, Finnish eccentricity, Turkmen activism, Russian Beatles tribute bands, US pro street skating, Kyrgyz drum n bass, Jam making, Dairy production and the feline reincarnation of Buddha. Not bad for a small central asian city!

So after 2 weeks of kicking back and relaxing, it's back on the road with F.Y. for more adventures. The weather is getting very cold very quick, which promises to make things a little more exciting.

There's new photos up in the gallery, and more stories coming soon.

Crossing into Real Stan #1

After waiting for a week in Kashgar for my Kyrgyz visa to begin (central asian visa's require you to nominate an entry and exit date in advance... something i did with terrible inaccuracy), I left and cycled the 250 kms to the border.

Those who know me know that I have at certain times in the past had trouble with travel related dates - arriving 24hrs late for my Bangkok-Singapore flight, more recently arriving 7 days early for my Broome-Perth flight.

This time i managed to arrive a day before my Kyrgyz visa began, a fact which was politely pointed out to my be the Chinese immigration officer before they whisked my passport away and told me to sit in the corner. As i was sitting contemplating spending the night at the tiny little border 'town', (about 4 buildings and 400 truck drivers... not good odds), they called me to see the senior officer, who was a very nice man, and told me i could either try my chances on the Kyrgyz side, or wait 3 days till Monday, (the border was closed on the weekends, something i hadn't realised) when the border reopened and cross then.

One day of communal truck driver good times I could handle, but three was definately pushing it! I decided to try my luck on the other side.

As I crossed the 7kms of no-mans land to the kyrgyz side, the beautiful chinese asphalt deteriorated into dirt and gravel and the solid Chinese immigration complex was instead matched by a shed and tin roof combo that would be better placed on an outback road in the Northern Territory.

As I got to the front gate trying to work out in my head which of three possible tacticts to take:
1- Idiot tourist "oh, i didn't realise it wasn't valid yet"
2- Tough guy "come on buddy, just stamp it, its no biggie"
3- Friendly but firm "you won't believe what happened... hahaha... no, but i REALLY need to get through."

I saw the first border security guards, a big soviet looking dude in camouflage gear, and decided that tactic 2 was out.

Luckily, guard #1 was just excited to see a bicycle, and after letting him ride it down to the immigration shed, i figured i had positioned myself well for a combo of tactics 1 and 3. Another guard took my passport and went into the office, i was told to stay out, where i underwent a 'customs check'

'Customs' involved a bigger, angrier looking ex-soviet camouflage guard pointing casually at my bags and then poking around with more curiosity than purposefulness at the contents. (There was an awkward moment as i tried to explain in sign language what the flashing yellow yellow plastic thing was, evidently "GPS" doesn't translate directly to russian). After 10 minutes of this (So far i hadn't used any of my super tactics...) they brought out my passport, stamped and ready for action, and politely told me to bugger off, which i was more than happy to do!!!

So began Kyrgyzstan.

The next two days were spent riding very slowly over huge stones and dusty roads along the worst road i've had so far, into the worst headwind i've had so far, to arrive at Sary Tash. A village with two streets (one paved), a small guesthouse, and about 17 shops selling biscuits and Vodka. I spent the afternoon trying to wash myself in a plastic dish with the radius of a small hoola hoop, with a small bucket of luke warm water, but the experience was made much better by meeting two german motorbikers on vintage east German motorbikes, and we had a great dinner together.

Kyrgyzstan is one of those countries where there's not much around, but its bloody beautiful. Outside the city, there's beautiful rolling green hills and amazing mountains. Streams and rivers flowing with crystal clear water, and sheep, cows and horses roaming freely. As you ride along, sheppherds ride up on their horses every now and again and plod along beside you, and i'm sure if I could speak any russian, they'd be up for a nice chat too!

Another two days has gotten me to Osh, the second biggest city in Kyrgyzstan, with 300,000 people. The town has a very ex soviet vibe to it, lots of 'cafes' (no coffee) selling kebabs and Plovv (rice with carrots and meat soaked in oil), and a great bazaar. Also a great place to meet travellers, a great crew was here when i arrived, and I even finally met a couple Aussies on bikes.

The internet is mighty slow, so no pictures yet, but will keep on trying.

An Ode to China

So Western China is a bit like the N0rthwest of Western Australia. Desert, a whole lot of space, plenty of sunshine, not much water and an interesting mix of people. Kashgar is one of those places where there is just enough happenening to keep things interesting, but not too much to stress you out. Where the towns big enough that you don't have to eat at the same place every night, but small enough that you know where to go to grab a good feed.

After a week of chilling out in K-town, waiting for my Kyrgyzstani visa to begin, its finally time to head off. This part of the country is so different from my preconceptions of China that its hard to believe its the same country. The fusion of East and Far East that occurs here is nothing short of fantastic.

The most memorable moments of Kashgar:
1- Fresh figs, fresh grapes, fresh pomegranates and peaches. all in season!
2- Uyghur people looking very Tajiki, and speaking great Mandarin
3- Han people looking very Chinese, speaking graet Uyghur
4- Watching people savour the oddest parts of the animal (ie. feet, cheeks, ears and intestines) as if they were caviar
5- Walking through the small streets of the old town, trying to no avail to see through closed doors with my non-existent x-ray vision to find out what the houses look like!
6- Kebabs and fresh bread in the street.

Finally I'll be pedalling into Central Asia proper, in a way crossing into Kyrgyzstan feels like the journey is starting now for real!

Across the border at last!

So F.Y. and I finally made it to China. After depositing a friendly German, an old polo shirt and two metres of tarpaulin in Sost, Pakistan's dusty little border town, I climbed into an old landcruiser with 6 Pakistani "business men" and a balding Japanese dude for the trip over the pass and on to Tashkurgan, China's not-so-dusty, and somewhat larger border town.

Before I left Pakistan, I took a few days to see some of the top end. Tom ze German and I had one final Hoorah trip up to the top of the Khunjerab pass, which is the official border between Pakistan and China. You're allowed to cycle up to it, and the Pakistani officials are pretty relaxed about the whole affair, (we even camped out on their front lawn on the way up). But with iron-fisted Chinese regularity, you are forbidden from cycling down the other side into China, but we decided to take the two day trip to the top (4700m) anyway, and despite Tom coughing up chunks of bloody lung the whole way, it was a pretty good little trip.

After that, we went our separate ways, Tom to conquer K2 (or at least get to base camp), and I for a couple more days up the Chapursan valley, a small valley in Pakistans North West that heads towards Afghanistan and Tajikistan (perfectly safe. really.) Although the weather was not the best, the people and the scenery really made it a great little side trip. The road was poretty rough, but along the way were lots of tiny villages harvesting wheat and offering completely selfless hospitality. Apparently the trekking in the surrounding mountains is absolutely amazing, but that'll have to wait till the next trip.

The difference between China and Pakistan is evident the moment you cross the border. Mainly because the bone jarring potholes on the pakistan side are replaced by smooth chinese asphalt! The Pakistani mentality of our driver did not stop at the border however, as he attempted to cruise down the 146km to Tashkurgan in neutral to save petrol...

After three customs checks, luggage x-rays, an x-ray of my abdomen, and much interest in the price of my bicycle, we were finally in china!

Tashkurgan the border town is a bizarre mix of Han chinese, Tajik and Kyrgyz people, with chinese supermarkets, kebab and fresh naan cooked in the street, and shops selling everything from rakes to kettles and pots the size of a 4man jacuzzi.

From there the 300km ride to Kashgar was mainly downhill, with a night in a Yurt with a Tajik family by Lake Kara kul under the mighty Muztagh Ata ("Ice Mountain"). Kashgar again is a strange mix of 'typical' chinese and central asian, with an old city full of Tajik Muslims, and a new city of big imposing chinese communist looking buildings, and of course a "peoples park" with a suitable large and imposing statue of the chairman.

It does also boast however, coffee (very overpriced, and very underquality...), 2 camera stores (neither of which have a circular polarising lens for my camera) huge internet cafes (thank you Warcraft...), and great kebabs (only after sunset, its still Ramadan). On top of all these goodies, Kashgar is said to boast the largest animal market this side of the Pamirs, every Sunday. I'll fill you in on the action as soon as i've seen it.

Woohoo!!!

Pakistan Pics Finally Up!!

Click on the link on the left hand side to see the photos.

High altitude cooking, a German-Australian Collaboration, and a farewell to Jemima

Three weeks into Pakistan, and the country I set foot into has turned on its head. The hot humid plains of the south have turned into magnificent snow capped peaks, beautiful valleys filled with fruit trees and terraced fields of wheat and corn. Its apple and apricot season ( just missed the peaches... bugger) and every village you pass has trees laden with fruit! Its totally awesome!





About a week ago I met Tom, the German in Gilgit just as I was leaving the guesthouse, and two hours, a bowl of porridge and a flat tyre (tom's not mine) later, I had a new cycling partner. Having said that, the past week we've been mainly off the bike, trekking in collaboration with a strong German contingent also making their way up the mountains.




We are now in the Hunza valley, definately the most beautiful section of the road so far. This is where the Hindukush, the Karakorum and the Himalaya mountain ranges all intersect toi create lanscape of ridiculously large mountains and amazing scenery. Tom and myself did a two day trek up to Rakaposhi base camp, next to the Minapin glacier, and then joined three other brave adventurous Germans to conquer Rush Peak over the last 5 days, smashing the 5100m peak to bits (more of a hill than a mountain around here) in a journey that saw us cross glaciers, mountain lakes, rain, snow, sunshine and really bloody steep tracks.



After careful consideration, we found our main points of learning to be:



-pasta just doesn't cook right above 4000m.
-porridge does, and still tastes great even when you've had it each morning for 5 days
-walking uphill hurts the same day, walking downhill hurts the next 2 days. alot.
-Germans in general have lots of cool camping gear, Australians don't
-Germans also have many varieties of interesting tea, never before heard of in Australia. Wondervoll!

On a very sad note, unfortunately after three long years of tireless service and countless hours of service to humanity, I left my ipod - Jemima - plugged into the wall in the hostel and after a week of hiking some no good backpacker took it... very un-pakistani.





After a week of bike-saddle free adventuring, the two rubber lined wheels of fate are calling, but not before a day of rest and continuous feeding in Karimabad.





Coming up soon, more cycling, and probably more walking!! stay tuned

A Word on Cricket

Many people don't understand cricket. Many think its a ridiculous sport where about 90% of the total playing population are doing nothing for the vast majority of the game, while a chosen few run up and down the same small stretch of turf for hours on end. If this is what you think, then shame on you.

Cricket is easily the single greatest diplomatic undertaking that Australia has made in recent history. It is the ultimate ice-breaker and friendship maker on the road. You can arrive dirty, dishevelled, smelly and soaking wet with sweat to a tea stall in the North West Frontier Province of Pakistan, and when the bearded, turbanned, robe wearing Pakistani man behind the counter hears those few special words "I'm from Australia", tea pours from the heavens, smiles appear left and right, and fountains of praise for Ricky Ponting, Shane Warne, Adam Gilchrist shower forth!!

However even this is not enough to ease the tension of the next quesion "you are Muslim?", "no" "Why not?"...

In the past week I have cycled from Islamabad to Gilgit, through Indus Kohistan (that translates to Mountain-istan...for good reason). I just clocked up the 1000th kilometer, and things are going pretty well. People continue to be super friendly, and the scenery continues to get better and better. On the road I keep being passed by pick-up trucks full of bearded, turbanned dark skinned men in long robes, who look like they've come straight out of a blockbuster hollywood war movie and simply forgot their guns at the last stop, and inevitably they go past smiling, waving and shouting words of support (I think its support...to be honest I can't really understand what they're saying)

unfortunately, photos aren't working again...

Pakistan... So hot right now!

Try this out. Go for a run, 20 minutes should suffice. Then, take your dirty smelly socks, and microwave them for 30 seconds. Once you've completed this step, strap the now warm and moist socks to the sides of your head. Got it? That's the feeling you get riding through the scorching humidity of Pakistan at the moment.

I crossed the border at Wagah the day the olympics began, but the soldiers were busy competing in their own competition - The daily border show-down between India and Pakistan. Over a thousand people gathered on both sides of the border to watch the massive Punjab soldiers stamp up and down the pavement like supercharged roosters (complete with the headgear) to shouts of 'Long Live Pakistan'!! This daily event inevitably ends with a begrudging handshake between the two sides, but with the amount of pomp and aggression that goes into it, i'm surprised all out war does not break out on a daily basis.

From the border it was a flat 30kms to Lahore, where I spent 2 nights and checked out some of the local sights. The guesthouse I stayed in was run by a Sufi guy who hosted local musicians out on the rooftop. The music was pretty cool, with Urdu chanting and amazing drumming and percussion.

I'm pretty keen to get out of the cities and into the hills, so I left Lahore after 2 days for Islamabad, which took 2 days and was a bit like riding along albany highway, except that every 10 minutes or so someone would pull up next to me or pull me over and ask me all about where i'm from and what i'm doing and offer me a cup of tea! The pakistani hospitality is out of this world.


Islamabad is like Pakistan's Canberra. It was built about 50 years ago as the nations capital, and is a fairly tasteless city seperated into square sections each with a little market in the middle. From here things should get more exciting, as I head up along the Karakoram highway into the mountains.

I know the pictures are hardly the national geographic classics you're used to from TTI, but I left my usb cable in the tent and can only put up these two pictures of Lahore traffic I thought were fantastic.

Dahl for dinner once again

So the trip has officially started, got to Delhi last night, for what feels like the 600th time this year, and after successfully navigating a 2m long bicycle box through the crowds at delhi airport, realising both airport atm's were broken and I only had 22 singapore dollars to my name and convincing the taxi driver that my bike was NOT in fact a tv, and as such I should be spared the 50 rupees "tv tax" I made it out and to my surprisingly clean and spacious guesthouse in backpackerville.

'FY', (which was the name affectionately given to my bicycle by Lobna) arrived safely. Today I traversed Delhi 4 times arranging all the documents for my Kyrgyzstani visa, and tommorow it should be ready, which means the next day I can hit the road!

So in the interests of not making this blog deadeningly boring, I'll keep it short. Todays greatest moments were catching up with 'aunty' at the Lotus temple, and taking a picture of the pumpkin guy in the Paharganj market, after which he handed me his business card (the most professional looking pumpkin sellers card i've ever seen) and made me promise i'd send it to him - apparently 'side of the road next to the lamp post ' is an address in Delhi...

ok, maybe it wasn't that short. I'll try harder next time.

A New Beginning

Many visitors to this site may once have been members of Tosif Trekking International Inc. on facebook, and as such were wondering what actually happened to our fearless travellers in the remotest regions of North India. (for photos, check out the photo link on the right)

Well, the truth is often hard to swallow. What is even more difficult to swallow than the truth, is a fully grown human being, but unfortunately this was to be the fate of one of our fearless adventurers, as Shidan was imbibed by the rare and endangered Kashmiri Mountain Elk, a ferocious creature. (for the more gullible among you, this is a joke, Shidan had to go back to work saving the children of Melbourne from rotavirus.)

However, fear not! For Tosif Trekking International Inc. (TTI Inc) moves into the future with greater adventures and more ambitious goals than ever before! As the sole remaining member of TTI Inc, I will be embarking on a solo bicycle voyage from India to Europe, over approximately 5 months and covering about 9,000km.

When possible, I'll use this blog to post updates and pictures along the way, and hopefully in this way I can share a little of the adventure with you.