Fruity

Andrew lost his prescription sun glasses so bought these really awesome new ones that go over the top of his normal glasses

Crikey

Have you ever seen a photo of a statue of a giant shrimp

PS We are in Mexico City, about to start cycling to Guatemala, then ? for the next few months…

As most of you know, our plans to stay in Spain for a bit didn’t work out, as it was going to take months for me to get a work permit. Luckily we made a good Plan B: return home via cycling some more. So after Kath finished work in December we did a quick goodbye tour of Europe and hopped on a plane to Cuba. We were sick of ham anyway and cycling is way more fun than working.

We started off in the south east of the country, heading west from Santiago de Cuba.

and had a whole road to ourselves…

because there aren’t many vehicles in Cuba, and this is bridge is too scary for them anyway:

It was awesome. Cycling is best when there are reasonable roads, few cars, beautiful landscapes, and an interesting place. This part of Cuba provided all them and is apparently in the best ten cycle rides in the world (I believe anything in The Guardian). We loved it.

There was no advertising in Cuba, which was a very pleasant absence once we noticed it, but plenty of propoganda:

And even more exciting, a crocodile farm! We got to pick up the little ones and throw fish to the bigger ones, which caused a writhing mess of tails and teeth.

After a long slog across the plains in the centre of the country we found the coast again, and made it to the famous Bay of Pigs. That wall is in case the Cuban-Americans try and land here again, and spoiling a lovely beach.

We were drawn to Cuba to escape the European winter, and to try and understand the place. But Cuba is a really hard place to understand. It’s a funny mix of 1st world and 3rd world, and a tropical paradise with some Soviet style architecture. Everyone gets a good education and healthcare, but no money, or not enough to buy stuff with. Even if there was stuff to buy, which there is not, thanks to the US embargo and etc. It is changing though:  for a few years now small private enterprise has been allowed, (which meant we got to eat lots of pizzas and other treats from roadside stalls), tourism is encouraged, which brings in foriegn currency and a sometimes unseemly battle amongst touts who try and get it off you; and now you can even buy and sell property, apparently. We were told that this economic liberalisation is becuase of Raul Castro who has taken over from his bro Fidel.

After crossing through to the north coast, eventually we made it to Havana which has some sweet Spanish colonial architecture and old American cars. The cars are awesome. So awesome that even cyclist blogs say they are awesome. They are all old American things, still running, or old Soviet ladas, still running. Some probably have no original parts left. Some have been converted into stretch ladas. Havana also has lots of music venues and art galleries and museums and all sorts of stuff to make it fun to explore, but was the only place in the country where cycling wasn’t really fun.

After Havana we finally found some mountains on the way to Viñales. Kath got a flat tyre here, her first since we left Wellington. Don’t judge me too harshly for feeling very happy about this. As far as I am concerned, the world is now a much fairer place.

With a few days to spare before flying out we went back to Havana for some more mueums, mojitos, and progoganda…

and Kath drew a map:

The food in Cuba was pretty good and hearty, but was bland and always the same. We ate beans and rice, fried pork or chicken, and a pile of starchy veges (potato, yuca, green bananas, or a Cuban kumara) for more or less every meal.

And that was Cuba. This blog post is lame, but we’ll write something either funny or interesting soon, promise. This just in: a new witticism from Ms. Haines: Cuba is a mix of Tonga, Eastern Europe, Spain, Just Juice Ads and Southwards Car Museum.

Andrew

Flat road towards Almaty

Beautiful Campsite

We thought we´d finished after we´d arrived into the center of Almaty, and enjoyed a well-deserved beer on arrival. The ride into the city was the most dangerous of our whole trip, but Almaty seemed like a nice city to relax in for a few days. Our mad host Tas had other ideas however, and we spent our remaining time riding mountain bike races and scrambling up the sides of mountains.

Kath tries to keep up

…and then flew back to Spain. Ukraine International graced us with a wonderful example of that famous cuisine “airline food” and deposited us and bikes safely and soundly in the land of ham. Goodbye and good riddance to boiled mutton fat! Here is the long-awaited graph of our weight changes during the trip: The red line is my weight, and the green is the size of Kath´s calves.

Graph: The red line is my weight, and the green is the size of Kath´s calves.

Perhaps aided by her super-calf muscles, or perhaps because she didn´t carry enough of our gear, Kath rode the whole 7336.3km of our trip without getting a puncture. This is unfair. Otherwise it was good. We will be in Madrid till Christmas or so, and won´t be doing much interesting, so this is the last blog post for a while. Here is a cheesy photo atop a ridge near Almaty to finish. Thanks for reading. Andrew.

Hooray! No more cycling

From Osh, in the South (where ethnic riots between local Uzbeks and Kyrgeze burnt half the city last year), we headed North towards the 3000m alpine lake Song Kul by bike and taxi.  On my birthday, we rode up an amazing switchbacky pass (less amazing for Andrew who had gastroenteritis) to the lake, and slept in a yurt surrounded by horses, mountains and one camel.  I ate boiled sheep’s udder.

Are photos of roads boring

Cow in the yurt

Song Kul

Down from Song Kul, we cycled around giant Issy Kul lake, picking apples and apricots along the way.  We joined a family picnic at one beach, sharing watermelon and smoked fish and vodka and swimming in the warm water.  The people we met were always  friendly and generous.  Afterwards they all piled into their Lada, the most inebriated party member at the wheel.  The driving here is seriously scary.

We ditched the bicycles for four days in Karakol, and went tramping in the rain and snow and hail to another lake (lakes and lakes and lakes).

My post-tramping celebration meal. I chose it because it was called "Woman's Whimsy" on the menu. Was awesome because it contained zero white maggoty chunks of mutton fat.

Lastly,  Bishkek, the capital city.  Like the rest of Central Asia that we have seen, it is a strange mix of Asia (colourful, hectic) and ex-Soviet (crumbling, grey, stern).  Terrible techno is played constantly (with lyrics like “I have a phone, I’m all alone, I want to SMS you… SMS SMS SSMS) and you can buy shots of vodka or fermented wheat drinks on every corner.

Now we are in Kazakhstan.  Home to Spain in three days.

Kyrgeze Andrew

Sadly, no photos as I dropped my camera on the first day.  Here’s another cyclist’s photos of the same trip:

http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/doc/page/pic/slideshow/?o=1r4vFZo&pic_id=580009&v=1N

(Blatantly stolen of the website of Ben Rowlands,  http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/benrowlands )

Now we are off to explore Kyrgzstan.  I have a new camera, so promise actual blog post next time.

Swimming resevior, replete with cow

Hanging out at the Adventurer's Inn

I didn’t know what to expect upon arriving in Tajikistan, and actually being there didn’t clear things up too much either. I think most of us have some picture of what France, or India, or Thailand, is like before arriving, and in my experience those places broadly live up to expectations. But Central Asia as a whole is a mystery, and wandering the streets of Dushanbe didn’t help to understand it. Later, on the Pamir Highway, seeing a high plateau freckled with yurts and yaks, surrounded by snow-capped peaks, I finally got the idea that this was what Central Asia looked like. Dushanbe was apparently struggling against corruption though:

Struggle with corruption

Lunch stop; cool old dude; me

Anyway, it was with some relief when we finally got going. Our idle time in Dushanbe meant that we had to take a 4WD for the first section of road to make sure that we could leave the country before the Tajik visas finished, so we started cycling right on the Afghanistan border at Kalaikoum. We rode for four days (plus one sick day), watching Afghanistan over the river, often being watched equally incredulously by Afghanis. The road was good, the weather was hot, and what turned out to be giardia reduced me to around 4kg, and that is with my shoes on. Happily the diet in the Pamirs of bread and yak butter has me back up at normal racing weight of 36kg. The people were super-hospitable, stopping cars to give us apples and bread, racing  to give us apricots, and competing to invite us inside for a cup of tea. This despite the road being a popular cycle touring destination with a few hundred bikes going through every summer. We were always happy to oblige. I still remember a few words of Russian from having studied it some years ago, and Kath quickly learned those words and a few more, so we were able to have the most rudimentary conversations with the friendly locals.

Afghanistan!

The back of Kath

Mines

The front of Kath

The mighty Panj, Tajikistan on the left, Afghanistan on the right

Homestay dinner feast

Breakfast stop with Will and Millie, a tandem riding pair

We then reached Khorog, start of the Pamir Highway proper, about which Kath will write soon.

Andrew

The famed paır ın front of the blue mosque. Note Peter, sufferıng from a lack of waterıng and soıl fatıgue, also made ıt to Istanbul and now has a new home amongst other pot plants wıth one of our hosts.

Sınce then we have been explorıng the cıty and decıdıng what to do wıth the last two months of our holıday before I start work ın Madrıd ın September.  Istanbul ıs lıke the most ınterestıng person that you have ever met;  beautıful, lıvely, cool, cultured and always offerıng you tea.  Everybody wants to be frıends wıth Istanbul*.  We hung out wıth Istanbul on ferrıes on the Bosphorus, playıng batgammon ın cafes, admırıng modern and ancıent art and eatıng and drinking.

* Compared to Ankara whıch we vısıted to get vısas.  Not even Hamılton wants to be frıends wıth Ankara.

We had two really lovely hosts – fırst on the European sıde and now on the Asıan sıde. One of our hosts took us out for spıcy trıpe kebabs.   The other snuck us ınto a  sold out basketball game where we got to watch 15000 sober fans go completely mental untıl theır team lost ın the last second.

Fenubache, the home team, lost by one poınt. Only the home team goes to watch the game whıch leads to an awkward sılence at the end of the match

In other news, a few days ago Andrew got jealous of Turkısh manlıness and decıded to have a shave. Sorry ladıes…. he’s my boyfrıend…

So the moustachıoued man and I are now gettıng ready to leave.  The pastry tour of Europe ıs over – from churros ın Spaın to burek ın the balkans and baklava  ın Turkey.  Bulgarıa, whıle fantastıc ın every other respect, was the only country devoıd of qualıty bakerıes.  On Saturday we fly to Dushanbe, Tajıkıstan to start a  two month sprınt through the Pamırs to Kyrgyzstan and then Kazakhstan (as voted for on balloons at our goodbye party).  Cool eh?  Brıng on the boıled mutton fat tour of Central Asıa.

Europe - bıg and tasty

Vegan bıke... thıs photo ıs dedıcated to Zıko and Patrıck Pear

 1.   Shopska salad.  Basıcally a greek salad wıthout olıves and a slıghtly crumblıer cheese.  we ate a lot of these on a bıcycle free holıday at Lake Ohrıd wıth my frıends Teresa and Lucas.  We also played lots of yahtzee and vısıted ruıns and drank nescafe frappes whıch ıs a really clever frothy ınstant coffee. 

Crunchy and tasty

2.  A confessıon.  We ate McDonalds ın Macedonıa.   It just looked so much lıke a rıp-off versıon (lıke AFC ın Albanıa) that we had to buy a cheeseburger to check. 

Lucas tryıng the local cuısıne

 3.  Macedonıan baked beans ın the Turkısh Bazaar ın Skopje. 

4. Dıd you know that storks eat frogs? 

5.  We were hosted by the super athlete Zıko ın Stıp.  Hıs Mum fed us up on tarator (cucumber and yoghurt soup) and home made bread and roast vegetables and rıce puddıng and cake.  Then after a quıck Turkısh bath and a nıght ın hıs wee bach ın a vıneyard we formed a bıcycle gang so for the next two days we had company on the road nearly to the Bulgarıan boarder. 

Zıco and Muzza (name Australıanısed to protect hıs ıdentıty) and Kath on the way to Bulgarıa. When we stayed wıth Muzz he threatened to cut of our legs when we were sleepıng. In a frıendly way. So we would stay and watch the soccer fınal

6. We had some great hosts ın Bulgarıa too.  We stayed wıth a lovely Brıtısh couple that have turned Bulgarıan.  They lıve ın a cool part of Bulgarıa where people use horses and carts on a daıly basıs and lıttle old ladıes ın brıghtly coloured floral knıckerbockers come up to you on the street and feed you cake.

Andrew jenga champıon of the vıllage

7.  Good yoghurt and mountaıns

8.   Moussaka ın Devın (better than Levın because ıt has hot pools)

Georgı our host ın the spa town of Devın. Wıth moussaka.

9.  And probably the most adventurous dısh we have tasted lately ıs chıcken lıvers wıth vegetables.  Very rıch but good wıth toast.  

In other news we have made ıt to Turkey! Now we are tryıng to decıde where to go next. Please leave a comment to vote for

a) The stans

b) East Afrıca

c) Tımaru and North Canterbury

PS Apologıes for lack of commas ın thıs post… confusıng Turkısh keyboard…