Turkmeni Transit

We leave Mashhad with a difficult task ahead of us. We must reach the Tajik border within 2 days in order to enter on the third day. Our Turkmenistan visa has fixed entry and exit dates and is only valid for 5 days. We have decided to try to cycle the whole way across the country if we can, but it is over 500km by the shortest route which means big days and little room for error. We set off early, psyched to the challenge and as we are leaving town a passing cyclist enthusiastically informs us about two Portugese cyclists a short distance ahead of us... surely there can only be one pair that fits that description. A puncture in Helen's rear tyre sets us back a bit and is a bad omen. We find Alex & Tiago snoozing under the shade of a cliff at the side of the road at lunch time and join them. They are in less of a hurry since their Turkmen visa starts the day after ours. We team up for the next two days, taking it in turn to blaze a trail in the building headwind. We find a gorgeous quiet place to camp that night and watch the sun go down. About 110km is a good start after all.





We cycle on through very attractive semi-arid landscape which has been irrigated in places to bring patches of green to the otherwise barren scenery. We reach the border town of Saraks that afternoon and are directed to a hotel by the police, who are unhappy about us camping in the park. We say our goodbyes and are in bed early after preparing for the fun to begin.





We are at the border by 7.30, ready for the 8am opening and the lengthy task of crossing; we have heard that it can take all day to get through. In fact, the border guards are extremely friendly and helpful and to our suprise we are through within 2 hours. No time to relax though, we have a job to do. There is a very strong headwind again and by the afternoon we are shattered. We take it in turns to lead so that the other person can rest:10minutes on and 10 minutes off is good for keeping our speed up and also provides something to aim for in the repetitive flat scenery. We are struggling to maintain just 14km per hour though and progress is slow. We receive a lot of encouragement from the friendly locals and even a large bag of biscuits from these lovely ladies!

Towards the end of the day the road changes direction and for a wonderful hour or two we have a tail wind. We are cruising at 30km per hour and manage to salvage the day. We camp in some trees by the road and hope that the wind does not change direction now. We wake to gentle winds, but we did not sleep well due to the traffic noise and the road surface quickly deteriorates so that we are making no better progress than yesterday.

We have been approximately following various branches of the silk road for a while now and the evidence is all around here, with many old buildings and ruins slowly being reclaimed by the desert. It is amazing to think of the caravans travelling these roads for so many years in the past.

Lunch breaks have become a very important part of the day and we allow ourselves a good rest and chance to escape the burning sun! The wind has increased in strength again and is coming from the northeast, exactly the direction that we are heading in.

We reach the city of Mary in the late afternoon, after stocking up at a roadside market. The contrast with Iran is very striking, with women wearing dresses and no headscarves. The ethnic differences are also very pronounced.

Mary is a very bold, clean, neat city. We are sorry not to have been able to visit Ashgabat,which sounds like a very strange place, but got a feel for the very ordered and heavily controlled way that cities are organised here. The streets are wide, in regular grid patterns and the buildings are mostly brand new and gleaming white.


The road between Mary and Merv is a hive of activity with people frantically erecting yurts and tidying up their already immaculate fields. We ask what is going on and are informed that the president is visiting next week. We are forced to turn down the offer to sleep in one of the yurts due to our visa pressure.

We stop at 7o'clock, shattered and prepare to set up camp. As we start to put the tent up, a car pulls up and, to our horror, an off-duty police man gets out and tells us that we can't camp here. Our hearts sink; not tonight please!! Fortunately, the policeman is a very nice guy who seems genuinely concerned about our safety. We explain that we camp all of the time, that we cannot cycle further because it is getting dark, we have already done over 100km and there are no hotels nearby anyway. He thinks for a moment, tells us to follow him in his car. We force a smile and set off with burning thighs, expecting the worst. Neither of us can face a police interrogation or a night of entertaining excited and enthusiastic hosts. Fortunately, we go back to the main road, cross it and are shown to a field beside a farm house. The owner is presumably told that we will be sleeping in his field and that he is not to talk to us, but must make sure we are gone by the morning. We thank the policeman as he drives off. The friendly farmer appears shortly afterwards and watches with fascination as our tent goes up and we make some tea. We hold a basic conversation, he leaves and we fall into a very deep sleep.

We wake at dawn and pack up while Charlie (the farm owner) and his brother chat to us. The headwind has eased off a little so we make the most of it.

The landscape quickly changes as we leave the fertile irrigated plains and enter the western fringes of the Kyzylkum desert. The landscape is sublime and the skies are huge, but the thermometer on Ed's handle bars climbs closer to 40 and the sun crackles our skin. We stock up on water at the last shop for 200km and set off into the desert . The wind has been steadily increasing and now, once again, we are faced with a persistent strong headwind. We take it in turns to slipstream each other for a respite from the wind again. This routine is the only way to make any progress and keeps us sane as we spend two days inching our way along the featureless, arrow-straight road.

Our legs are aching. It has been a hard day, but the evening gives us a chance to realise how lucky we are to be here. Silence and a beautiful sunset followed by an amazing star-filled sky and a full moon to cook and eat by. If we had more time this would be heaven. We consider sleeping under the stars, but our fear of the varan (a giant monitor lizard with a powerful bite) and tarantulas (we saw a squashed one on the road just before entering Turkmenistan) gets us zipping ourselves securely into our tent.


We still can't get used to seeing wild camels grazing like sheep at the side of the road!


We receive a very warm welcome to Uzbekistan, about 2km after crossing the border. It is clear that people here are also incredibly friendly.

We camp in the garden of a very nice restaurant owner at the end of a long but rewarding day. We are relieved that we have made our deadline ....

The next day takes us through fertile plains irrigated by the Amu Daria. We chat to a lovely lady as we eat our lunch at the side of the road, though her daughter is less keen to have her photo taken!

We arrive into Bukhara in the early afternoon and cycle past some of the most famous and impressive sights of the silk road.

The Mir-i-Arab Medrassa, Kalon Mosque and its 47meter high Minaret which has been standing since1127 with nothing but cosmetic repair, apparently.

Tea!!!