Today, I only had a short 40kms to Khorog followed by a few rest days. It sounded very easy to me but it’s still 40kms in the nice warm temperatures and even though it’s a nett downhill, there were some annoying climbs along the way.
I’ve mentioned previously that I seem to start relaxing before I get to a rest day, and today was the same. Subconsciously, I hoped to be beamed directly to Khorog with no effort involved. But then I’d miss the end of the fantastic Gunt River Valley on the M41. Again, every bend revealed something different. “Ever changing” is an oft used descriptor but in Tajikistan, it’s the only way to describe things.
There was a climb or two, some absolutely perfect asphalt, some terrible asphalt as you’d expect, and a tunnel. It was in the tunnel that I met Liam, an American who’s been on a long trip for more than a year. I’d met his colleague Jimmy, yesterday.
There’s not many places in the world where you can stop in the middle of a tunnel and have a chat, but this is one. Liam had had an extra rest day in Khorog (he’s got his head screwed on), so we discussed fatigue and the need for regular breaks in the journey. Music to my ears !
Bavk on the bike and before too long, the houses and villages became more common, and then continuous as I reached the outskirts of Khorog.
It’s in an impressive narrow valley fringed by near vertical rocky peaks. Most towns and villages in Tajikistan are in valleys, after all, the place is 93% covered in mountains.
I rolled into town through traffic lights ! Wow ! I haven’t seen them since Osh. Liam had recommended the LAL hotel / hostel and when I saw a sign to it, I simply turned and went directly there. I got a room to myself so I could spread out my gear, then went for a pizza. I felt like a blob afterwards, but overeating is one of the joys of bike travel.
I think I’ve lost about 5kgs. Clothes that fitted well are now super baggy and without a belt in my shorts and trousers, I couldn’t get by. Considering I’ve eaten loads of stodge in the last couple of months, and certainly haven’t gone hungry, I don’t know what else I can do to maintain my weight – except over-eat. And that’s become a hobby. I’m an expert now.
An afternoon nap followed soon after, then a walk around. The mosque here, is a newly designed and beautiful precinct. The building is striking and the grounds are turfed which is equally striking in this country.
It was time for the afternoon prayers and it seemed that the whole town was heading to the mosque and greeting each other along the way. As everywhere in Tajikistan, there was a feeling of overwhelming friendliness and kindness that extended throughout the community and embraced tourists and locals alike. It’s what sets this place apart, and I wish I could bottle it.
The local custom of expressing respect and welcome by placing the right hand above the heart is a common occurrence everywhere I go. I often wonder how we could incorporate this into the culture back home.
Tonight, I ate at the legendary Delhi Dabar restaurant, a place I’ve been reading about in cycling blogs for years. I turned up at 7pm, and the staff were having tea, so they asked me to come back at 8pm. It was well worth the wait. The difference between this meal and the local fare for the last two months was refreshing, and I’d eat here a few times during my stay.
My time in Khorog involved a few logistics like washing and getting food for the next leg but it was more about relaxing and recovering.
It felt more civilised here, than any place I’d been since Osh, but there was still this wild feeling about it. It may have been the landscape or the fact that it simply felt like a large version of a Tajik village that gave me that feeling. Regardless, my time here was well spent and I looked forward to the final leg to Dushanbe, still not knowing where I’d be each day, but knowing that I’d be eating my own bodyweight in carbs every day.
