Silk roads, stunning views and sick yurts
Unreal Uzbekistan
The stupendously suave yaks finally entered Bukhara at around 3pm on the 11th of August. The Yaks and Oxford utilised the Lonely Planet guide to find a fantastic restaurant offering up some cracking views from a terrace overlooking some typical domed roof tops. Lady Luck finally appeared to be on the side of the yaks, with the English speaking waitress being part of a family that ran the only hostel in the city. Her brother, Bek, met the teams at the restaurant and led them 200m down the road to the complex. Bek also spoke fluent English and proceeded to offer up an incredible invitation to take the teams on a sunset walking tour of the city.
Bukhara was incredible, possessing some seriously old school buildings and amazing Bazaars that were still located in the ancient domes that were used when the city was a major stop off along the Silk Road. What the Yaks found so refreshing about the city was that unlike other urban areas, where old buildings were made purely into tourist sites and were sectioned off, every ancient structure was still fully operational.
After a delicious traditional meal of Plov back at the Hostel along with a couple of other rally teams who had arrived later in the evening, the Yaks and co, led by Bek, decided to try and sample some of the famous Bukhara nightlife at around 1am, on a Tuesday. The forage for fun was however fruitless, and much needed sleep began at around 2am.
The following day began with a late wake-up followed by a huge breakfast in the hostel. Excited by the prospect of some ‘wavey garms’, the group cantered into town in order to exchange some dollars on the black market and then hit up the bazaars. Presents were bought, delightful shirts were purchased, and a tasty lunch was devoured. After the meals, the yaks decided to lollop off from Bukhara slightly before the other teams in order to catch up with the rest of the convoy in either Samarkand, or the Tajikistan capital of Dushanbe.
The drive to Samarkand started excellently, with some incredibly keen guys at a garage excitedly spying Catharine’s dented wheels whilst fuelling her up with POWER FOOD, and offering to tend to her by smashing out the imperfections and pumping up her tyres. With Catharine now SOUPed up and ready for action, the nomadic Yaks galloped towards the major Silk Road city in fading light, with the night time driving offering up some pretty furry moments.
Rolling up at Emir’s B&B at 11pm in the heart of the larger and more cosmopolitan city, Elliott and James quickly cantered off to try and find some food before everything closed. Eventually, the rugged Yaks came across an empty restaurant, bar a few men who worked there, a huge number of caged birds, and 2 marauding peacocks. The hungry herbivores settled down in a pretty surreal setting, enjoying some broth and beer to the sound of bird song, and keeping sure to keep away their bread from the pesky peacocks.
The next morning, our horned heroes woke up early in order to see as much of Samarkand as possible, before aiming to head off in convoy with some teams towards Tajikistan and the Pamir Highway. Samarkand was similar to Bukhara in terms of architectural style, but on a larger scale, with some of the gardens in the centre of the city a real highlight, full of luscious leaves for the yaks to munch on. The city was however far more modern than Bukhara, with busy main roads weaving between the historical sites, and the largest and most impressive palace somewhat made less spectacular by a great deal of scaffolding and chairs in front of it in preparation for a concert of some sorts. With rumours of more authentic Uzbek areas in the city, the yaks yearned for more time in the city, but unfortunately had to quickly depart if they were to make the finish line in time for the final party- Yaks like to party.
Throughout the rally, Elliott and James had been hearing various rumours regarding the state of the Pamir Highway, with a huge mudslide initially closing the entire route a few weeks ago and currently a single passage open. Having been reading the accounts of various ralliers who had attempted the diverted Pamir Highway, it did not look good, with a huge number of cars beaten beyond repair by lingering water and huge rocks littered throughout the Wakha valley- thus ending their trip. Elliott and James were still hopeful of completing the trek however, such was their confidence in Catharine, and aimed to drive to the capital of Tajikistan and assess the situation there. A conversation with a biker who was riding to Singapore however altered this decision. With a friend of his having just completed the intended route on a motorbike, word was that the highway was a ‘nightmare’ and impossible in a car without likely destroying it beyond repair. Moreover, the northern border crossing into Kyrgyzstan that the yaks intended on taking with the Pamir was unfeasible was shut off to yaks and other non-native species. Begrudgingly, the Holy Trinity took the difficult decision to head north and straight into Kyrgyzstan, reaching the conclusion that the country still allegedly offered up scenery that could match the Pamir, and would ensure that Catharine was in as strong a state as possible to carry the Yaks to the motherland, without meeting the fate countless teams seem to have encountered in Tajikistan.
Heads held high, the Yaks excitedly planned an incredible route through Kyrgyzstan, and began the drive to the border from Samarkand at midday. The journey was an extremely eventful one. After another plov for lunch at one of the roadside restaurants that seemed to adorn every road in Uzbekistan, Catharine soon began to run extremely low on fuel an hour south of the capital of Tashkent. With the country experiencing extreme petrol shortages in certain areas, the Yaks ears drooped when they realised that the lines and lines of closed fuel stations signalled that they were in the heart of such a place, with an empty tank.
As Catharine struggled on, the decision was made to stop in the closest town and scour the black market for some car food. Despite asking many locals for the black market however, it could not be found, and with darkness approaching, it would be harder to spot. The yaks eventually gave up on trying to find the elusive shopping area, and asked a car-repair shop if they knew where petrol could be obtained. It turned out the owner of the shop could drive off to find some, for double the normal price, and what turned out to be horrendous quality fuel. Elliott and James had no choice however, and accepted the deal after a bit of haggling over the exchange rate. While the sweet nectar was being collected, the yaks chatted with a great deal of intrigued locals about the nature of their trip, handed out some more Yik Yak stash, and posed for a huge number of ‘selfies’.
With Elliott nearing the end of his long shift, he had to drag James away from making it a lot longer by going off for vodka with some truck drivers, before the yaks were finally back on the road. They soon arrived at the mouth of the Fergana Valley- a thin stretch of Uzbekistan surrounded by Tajikistan to the South, and Kyrgyzstan to the North. The area is more militarised than the rest of the country, with a stronger police presence that was immediately evident with the first of many checkpoints. As well as more police, the area also offered up some stunning mountain roads (though views were mostly obscured by darkness), and good quality petrol! Once Catharine had guzzled her fill, the team smashed on to Andijon.
Arriving in the town, the tired trio had no idea where they would stay, with the guide book sending them to hotels that were either too expensive, or did not exist anymore. Spying the stranded yaks looking lost parked up on the side of the road, a couple of Uzbek guys came over to offer their assistance in perfect English. The two brothers, Tursunboy and Shoxrux, offered to show the yaks to a potential hotel, using another guy, Asilbek, to provide some translation over the phone at times. With the hotel still too steep for the poor yaks, the brothers picked up their friend Asilbek, and incredibly kindly offered to put Elliott and James up for the night in the family home that Tursunboy was building for his soon-to-be wife! The yaks were treated to a huge feast, tea and some of the finest Russian vodka. Tursunboy was a policeman, Shoxrux was studying economics at university, and Asilbek was a salesman for one of the yaks’ favourite brands in Dubai- Jack Wills. The night flew by in great company, and the yaks were sound asleep in the living room, along with Tursunboy and Asilbek by 3am.
The alarm went off the next day at 8am, and the yaks were treated to a ‘small’ (huge) breakfast, before posing for photos and saying their goodbyes to the incredibly hospitable group. Passing a couple more checkpoints, Elliott and James eventually arrived at the border at around 10am, and managed to charm their way out of the 2 hour car search the team before them had endured by whacking out some basic Uzbek, entertaining the guards with countless photos from the trip, and laughing at one guard who wanted to take quite a few caffeine pills, thinking they were Viagra.
Aside from a half an hour lunch break slowing the Kyrgyzstan side of the crossing, with Elliott going through his diary and photos with an intrigued guard to pass the time, the yaks were quickly into their penultimate ‘stan, and on the verge of exploring some of the most stunning scenery the world has to offer.
Killer-View Kyrgyzstan
The Kyrgyzstan adventure did not get off to the best of starts, with Catharine immediately being pulled over in the hectic city of Osh, after James completed what turned out to be an illegal turn. Having heard worrying stories of the police confiscating documents and refusing to return them until a ‘fine’ was paid, the yaks only handed over photocopies of their documents. Unfortunately, the policeman took a great deal of offence to this. After spouting off about the democracy in which he lived, governed by rules of the UN, he was eventually calmed down by fabricated stories of Uzbek policeman exploiting the yaks previously- exploiting the ‘friendly’ rivalry between the two countries. The yaks were consequently soon on their way, punishment free, and managed to find a café with Wi-Fi for lunch, after accidentally driving through a huge Bazaar and enduring another stop by the police.
The yaks eventually managed to gallop away from the city, and towards the fresh air and lush green grass of the mountains by 5pm, aiming to find a quiet spot to settle down and graze for the night. With the light fading, our magnificent mammals spotted a rally car, and decided to set up camp with the 4 friendly French travellers who owned her. After a delightful dinner of yet more sausage and pasta, the yaks retired to their tents to slumber in the chilly yet beautiful mountains.
Early the next morning, the two teams set off together on a long drive through the mountains towards Lake Son-Kul. Words really cannot do justice to the scenery the yaks encountered that glorious day, with turn after turn, ridge after ridge, and mountaintop after mountaintop bringing a landscape somehow ever more spectacular than the before. While there are pictures attached, yaks lack fantastic photography skills due to their hooved limbs, and couldn’t possibly capture every outrageous vista. The views truly were the best Elliott and James had ever seen, and likely ever would see.
In between swooning at the glorious landscapes, the teams settled down for a lunch of pasta by the side of the track in the heart of a valley, while the yaks stopped for a chat with some locals on the side of the road after they warned them that the fuel tank guard had come loose and was making some horrendous noises by grinding against the gravel roads. They then powered through more mountains, feeding Catharine at an isolated petrol station, and ended up in a small village that was reached after surging down an incredible road with some terrifyingly tight turns. Once in the village, the teams went on the hunt for some beers to take to the lake. The locals were extremely helpful, and eventually pointed the group towards a small store, after allowing Elliott and Alix to ride a donkey, and enjoying a number of presents supplied by Yik Yak.
With supplies sorted, the lake was eventually reached at around 6:30pm, after Catharine somehow conquered an incredibly steep climb and a battering from a huge number of rocks. The destination was well worth the journey, with the mountains flattening out at 3016m to produce an idyllic scene of animals and yurts on the pastures in front of the huge lake, and towering mountains looming up behind. After gaining permission from the family, the adventurers set up camp just behind a yurt camp. James then set about sorting out the fuel tank guard, whilst Elliott cantered off with the French friends to the lake in order to assess the water for swimming and cool the beers.
With the beers and car taken care of, Elliott showed the 8 year old son of the yurt camp family photos of the trip so far, and partook in a spot of football with him. Due to Elliott having four legs and therefore being capable of a far wider array of tricks than the two-legged child, the fledging right back eventually got bored of being schooled, and learnt to hit the football with a golf club with James. Quite why James was acting as an expert in golf, we will never know. With our new friend restored after the embarrassing scenes in the football game, he came over to help Elliott set up his tent, before the yaks and the French guys drove off to some supposedly swimmable water in the sunset. After pictures, a hair and clothes wash for James, and a paddle for Elliott, the group headed back to the camp just as darkness approached.
Soon to appear in Humanitarians of Tinder
Upon return, the yaks were greeted by an excited 8 year old as he bounded out from his yurt towards the car. He dragged the humungous herbivores towards his home, making the sign for drinking tea and food. With it long being Elliott’s dream to enter a Yurt, he was incredibly excited, and the cosy and dark interior of the construction did not disappoint. The groups enjoyed some tea, homemade bread, delicious homemade butter, and various jams and honey with the incredibly generous family. Although the yak’s appreciated the local delicacy of kumis (soured mare’s milk), they cannot claim to be the biggest fans of the unusual taste.
Having said a huge спасибо (thank you) to the fantastically friendly family, the group left the warmth of the yurt for the now freezing cold of their camp. Wrapped up in scarves, gloves, hats and a huge number of layers, the yaks broke into their supply of instant pasta for the first time, and were pleasantly surprised that it didn’t taste absolutely hideous. After dinner and some shots of a Turkmen spirit called ‘Gala’ to warm them up, Elliott and James retired to their tents, after marvelling at the crystal clear night sky.
Thanks to a 6am alarm the next day, the yaks were up and ready to power through to Almaty in Kazakhstan. The previous night’s sleep had been a struggle, with the howl of what the yaks hoped were dogs, and bitter cold interrupting any meaningful slumber- even with their thick furs. With the now iced tents packed away, the tailed travellers set off in Catharine, leaving their French pals for another day at the stunning lake. The views of the landscape at sunrise really was worth the early wake up, and the yaks were able to take in more stunning views as they descended from the lake. Once in relative warmth again, Elliott and James stopped to change their winter for summer hides, and had a chat with another child on a donkey, who had rode out to see them after spotting Catharine glistening from his home. With more Yik Yak presents handed out, the trio were soon on some astoundingly smooth and empty roads, surging towards the capital of the country- Bishkek.
Elliott however got too excited by the perfect driving conditions offered up by the perfect tarmac, and was pulled over by some sneakily positioned police around a tight corner for speeding. After pleading ignorance, then negotiating the fine down from $35 to $7, he eventually managed to leave without paying the completely legitimate punishment after his Mastercard surprisingly failed to work in the Visa card machine, and his Visa card being carefully hidden from view. After telling the policeman about his CHARITY rally and offering him 2 pence coins, the man in uniform eventually giggled and waved Catharine on- phew!
With the border crossing to Kazakhstan eventually reached by mid-afternoon, the yaks foolishly believed they would be in Almaty for early evening. The crossing however turned out to be a hectic nightmare, with a huge number of vehicles and traders constantly trying to force and honk their way to the front of a single lane. On a more positive note however, the Danish pals from Turkmenistan and Samarkand were spotted just behind Catharine in the queue, and plans were made to travel to Almaty together once the painstakingly slow process was complete.
Krazy Kazakhstan
With the queue finally finished, a large number of Cyrillic forms signed, and car insurance purchased, the two teams powered onto to Almaty. The city was absolutely packed on the Sunday evening, as the Yaks endured some of the worst city driving they had encountered as they slithered towards their proposed hotel for the evening. After some more illegal driving manoeuvres, and a stop at a terribly unappealing looking hotel, the yaks eventually managed to find a great looking hostel and said their goodbyes to the Danish, who were off to camp outside the city. The teams plan to meet up in Kazakhstan, Russia or Mongolia and convoy to the finish if possible. Once at the hostel, the hungry herbivores checked in, collected some cash from the first ATM they had used since Yaku, and enjoyed a steak meal before heading to bed.
The Yaks now plan to spend most of the day in Almaty sorting out admin and stocking up on supplies, before beginning the long drive through Kazakhstan, into Russia, and then the motherland of Mongolia.
