Bam-i-dunya (the Roof of the World) 

26 August – 13 September 2008

The mountainous Pamir region covers 45% of Tajikistan. Comprising 3% of the Tajik population, the Pamiri peoples have their own distinctive cultures that can be broadly divided into the western and eastern areas. The Pamirs are mostly too high for human settlement, with the majority of peaks over 5000m, and the people who do live there at times struggle with the harsh environment and economic hardship. The collapse of the USSR in 1991 led to a lack of fuel and funds which increased the region’s isolation. Foreign aid initiatives to create some self-sufficiency have helped overcome these problems but nevertheless, in 2006, around 80% of the population was living on less than $200 a year.  

The western part of the region consists of deep valleys and Pamiri mountain farmers. The east is a plateau-like landscape sparsely inhabited by nomadic Kyrgyz livestock herders. The highest peak is Koh-i-Samani at 7495m (in Soviet times it was called Pik Kommunizm). 

The Pamir Highway crosses from Khorog in the west to Osh in Kyrgyzstan and was built to access this remote outpost of the Soviet empire. The road was opened to travellers relatively recently and tourists need a special permit to travel there, as well as having to register with the national security office and the local police. 

The Pamir Highway (M41) has also been referred to as the opium highway. Central Asia is a major transit route for heroin and this is the road it takes. Most of it originates in Afghanistan and crosses the border into Tajikistan. Warlords and criminal gangs control most of the business although border guards, police and army are all involved. The Roller’s panniers were 3kg heavier for this section of our trip. The team is now richer and both have a full set of gold teeth. 

Our route
We started our cycling in Tajikistan from Khorog after a very bumpy 16-hour jeep ride to cover the 550km Dushanbe to Khorog road. 

We headed south and then east through the Wakhan Valley, following the Panj River that forms the border with Afghanistan, and then turned north following the Pamir River to cross the Khargush Pass (4344m) and meet the M41. Cycling northeast along the Pamir plateau we crossed the Niezatash Pass (4137m), passed through Murghab and carried on north to the Kyrgyzstan border via the Ak-Baital Pass (4655m), Karakul Lake (formed by a meteorite ten million years ago), the Uy Bulak Pass (4232m) and the Kyzyl Art Pass (4336m). From the border our direction changed to northwest, through the town of Sary Tash and over the Taldyk Pass (3615m) and the Jiptik Pass (4185m) to Osh. The total distance we cycled was 913km. 

Accommodation
We stayed at a variety of establishments, including guest houses, homestays, a yurt, a hotel and the tent of romance. 

We found staying at guest houses meant that we had more privacy, but staying at homestays really let us experience local life first hand. The Roller has made a friend for life sharing a bottle of vodka with an enthusiastic Russian teacher host, Akim, while the Stick had a friendly torch shone on her behind by his smiling wife while using the pit toilet at the end of the garden. The English teacher with the homestay in the small village of Alichur polished off two large loaves of bread with her mutton soup before telling us that she was only eating and drinking when there are at least two stars in the sky for Ramazan. She continued to cheerfully invite all passing villagers into her simple house for chai at every opportunity even though she would have to watch and salivate until about 8pm (we’re not sure how she gets on when it’s cloudy). 

Houses are small and privacy is limited with the extended family sharing the same room to sleep in. Thick mats are laid out on the floor at night, and cosy duvets are piled up on top. It’s rare to have running water and water must be collected in buckets (or large urns for the wealthier families) from the village pump and carted back to the house. Our bods were in need of a good soak by the end of the trip and we don’t know when/where the locals wash themselves. Electricity, for the few villages that have it, is weak and sporadic. 

We had some corker camp spots. The whole road had amazing camping opportunities (it’s fine to park up with a tent where you please – although out of sight of traffic and punters is advisable). We were running behind schedule (thanks to visa bureaucracy which started in Turkey) and wearing all our clothes and using all our gear did not keep the shivers away at 4100m and -7 degrees Celsius out of the wind. Doing the highway a month earlier would have allowed us to make more use of the tent of romance. Our best camp spot was a perfect patch of green grass across the Pamir River from Afghanistan. Our worst spot was on the Panj River floodplain during a sandstorm. Our most inappropriate spot was next to a picturesque river which was fed from the surrounding glaciers and peaks but started to rise dramatically at sunset, at which time we had to quickly abort with muddy waters swirling around our feet. 

Our most interesting sleep was in a yurt, which is a large, portable circular tent made out of sheep skin and woven felt mats attached to a wooden frame, and used by nomadic herders in high summer pastures (or jailoos). After our descent from the highest pass, the Ak Baital (4655m), the sun was going down and the temperature was dropping fast with an icy headwind (referred to by the team as a ‘Peterhead’, as opposed to a tail wind, referred to by the team as a ‘Jenny Tail’) and we could find no sheltered place to camp. The smoke rising in the distance beckoned and we were welcomed into a family’s snug yurt, fed chai, bread and yak butter and went to sleep beside the cat leashed to the fireplace and to the sound of yak grunting outside (the Roller was unfairly prodded a number of times and instructed to turn onto his side). 

Roads
From varying quality of tarmac to unrideable drifts of sand to boulders. 

It took seven hours to cover 35km (on average we would usually knock off that distance in about two and a half hours) from Langar to our first camp spot on the way to Khargush Pass – the road was steep, windy (and the weather windy) and we had our first snow storm. We saw few other cycle tourists on the road, but we did have company for this leg of the journey: a local on a 1974 one-speed with buckled wheels creaked along beside us as we pushed/cycled the rough roads. Where he was going remains a mystery. He disappeared into the dust. 

The Taldyk Pass (3615m) is not one but two passes – after climbing to the summit there is a descent and then another climb to its second summit. We weaved our way through Chinese trucks down the switchback descent on gravel road. The dust was phenomenal and we realised how spoilt we’d been with the lack of traffic on the Tajikistan part of the highway. 

Accidents
Stick – hit a patch of sand and bailed.

Roller – caught off guard looking at a salt lake, hit a patch of sand and hit the deck.

No serious injuries resulted. Small cut to the Stick’s left elbow and large bruise on upper leg. 

Weather
The Wakhan Valley was pleasantly warm. We wore shorts and t-shirts during the day and needed light sweaters in the evenings. In the passes we had snow. Our coldest experience was descending from one of the lower passes, the Niezetash Pass (4137m), when we had to put on all our gear (five layers on top, four on the bottom, two pairs of gloves, hats, scarves). Generally on the plateau in the eastern part of the route it was quite warm in the sun but always windy, and no dominant wind direction. Rule of thumb: clear skies equals good wind, stormy skies (mutton and cabbage pies) mean bad wind. 

Food
Mutton lovers’ paradise. And the occasional potato.

At our homestay in Murghab our host spent the afternoon preparing our evening meal, and presented us with a Spinnaker Pie consisting of cabbage and onions. Starving as usual, and enjoying the delicate flavours, the team easily devoured this very large creation. There was wind in our sails all night long and for the next three days. 

Toilets
Another pinch and rumble at the bazaar in Khorog left the Roller anxiously looking for the toilet.  Time was running out. After passing through the fresh produce section, the meats section and the general junk section the toilet was in sight, and he made a dash across the road and entered the building to find five men all squatting in a row with no cubicle dividers. Even with the rumble in motion there was time to stop for an instant and think ‘What the *****??’  There was no other option but to head to the free squat and join the locals. In his haste and lack of experience he did not line up the ‘hole’ correctly and proceeded to missy tero, to the locals’ disgust. Another set of minor uncontrollables. 

Toilets are often in a small outhouse at the end of the garden, and are a wooden platform with a hole underneath (deep hole = good). Frequently there are communal toilets, in this same structure, shared by many houses in the village. Never venture into one in the dark. And never linger. 

Hot springs
Hot springs abound throughout the region. Our favourite was Bibi Fatima, a seven kilometre climb from Yamchun in the Wakhan Valley and tucked into the crook of a canyon. An old lady surprised the Stick by revealing a fluorescent yellow g-string under her shawls, dresses, leggings and appropriate big whites while the Roller was entertained in the men’s pool by the locals soaping and massaging each other’s naked bodies. 

Militsiya
Our camera was stolen and a major military operation ensued. We had parked our bikes in a secure area and gone for a hot spring to discover an hour later that our trusty Canon was missing. Full of disbelief, we resigned ourselves to never seeing our friend again and contacted the police to get a report so we could claim insurance. Instead we received assurance that our camera would be returned to us within a couple of days and we were instructed to stay in the village. Two days later (four days after the camera was pilfered) we were again ushered into the Chief of Police’s office and asked to identify our camera. We were given the option to press charges and the thief would get five to seven years in prison, or to allow him to be released with a record. A tough decision. We now have a few extra souvenir videos, primarily of the culprit’s feet. 

A’stan
On the the 5th September 2008 the Roller entered Afghanistan. Of all the ‘stans’, this was the easiest to get into – no visa required, no border controls, just a cold river crossing. It took a number of attempts to get across but the mission was successfully completed at 1832 hours. The second mission of finding O. Bin Laden and collecting the reward offered by the US Government was not successful. The Roller returned Tajikistan at 1905 hours with no feeling in his feet, hands or privates. 

The finale
A night camping in an apple and pear orchard, our last pass that gradually climbed forever and a solid 118km took us into Osh, the end of the Pamir Highway. Our reward was to check into a hotel, reflect on this amazing and unforgettable leg of the journey, and, after a very large meal, we collapsed into two broken single beds. Success.