GLOBAL CYCLE RIDE

MISSION COMPLETE

2010-04-21T14:12:00.000-07:00

Name : Mark Doherty
The plan : To cycle around the world using the bicycle as my main mode of transport.
Bicycle : Koga Signature
Date of departure: 19-11-08
Date of return : 27-4-10
Distance cycled : 23,680KMs
Number of continents visited : 3 (*see below)
Number of countries visited : 18 **
Number of punctures : Too many (approxmatily 100)
Number of deserts crossed : 6***
Favourite country : Iran
Favourite city : Las Vegas ****
Most shocking experience : Witnessing a Sky Burial, in which human corpses are fed to wild vultures
Any near death experiences? : That Kara Su river in Kyrgyzstan nearly had me. It truly nearly had me.
Example of 'It doesn't get any crazier than this' : Skiing down a glacier with one hand on the bicycle handlebars and one hand on the saddle and using the pedal as brakes by leaning the bike towards me.
Hardest day : Somewhere in Western China anyway. Probably the day that included a 33KM uphill in first gear and at the end of the day the altimeter showed a 2000M altitude increase.
Longest distance travelled in 1 day : 163 KMs when I had a great tailwind crossing the Karakum desert in Turkmenistan.
Shortest distance travelled in 1 day : 9 KMs. Just too hung over to continue after an unfortunate experience involving a 2 euro bottle of French wine.
How would you describe the past 17 months of Global Cycle Ride? : Best time of my life.
Longest stretch without a shower : 17 days
Best meal of the trip : Il Latino restaurant, Florence, Italy. If you are ever in Florence, visit this place with an empty tummy and leave it to the chef's recommendation of the evening.
Best country for food : I'm undecided between Greece and China.
Worst meal of the trip : Yak rectum with shite sauce in Tibetan truckstop
Worst country for food : Uzbekistan

* Europe, Asia, North America,
** Ireland, Wales, England, France, Italy, Greece, Turkey, Iran, Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, China, Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, United States of America, Mexico, Belize.
*** Karakum desert in Turkmenistan, Kyzulkum desert in Uzbekistan, Taklamakan dersert in China, the Mojave and Sonaron deserts in United States and the Chihuahua desert in Mexico
****Las Vegas. Why does this city get continually slated by people? It is a one of a kind city in the world and I love it. If you know where to look you can get a 4 star casino hotel bed for less than the price of a hostel dorm in Dublin. You can get a 16oz T-Bone steak for the price of a sandwich and coffee from an O'Briens sandwich outlet and best of all: Don't pay for alcohol in Vegas. Every casino on the strip including the Bellagio will give you free drink as long as you are willing to spend a little time in front of a slot machine. My advice is sit in front of a 1c slot and tip the waitress $2 per drink. The bottom line. If you want to break even in Vegas- Don't gamble. To quote Robert De Niro from the movie Casino; "The house always wins". It is an extraordinary city that by very definition is the opposite to banal.

GLOBAL CYCLE RIDE - WHAT'S THAT ALL ABOUT??

2010-04-21T13:48:00.001-07:00

One afternoon in mid November 2008, I wheeled my bicycle out my front door and begun a journey of cycling around the world. When I begun out of Naas in Ireland. I could barely pedal it up the hill past the police station on the Kilcullen road. The weight of all my winter gear and the fact that I was so unconditioned to handling a bicycle with such weight on board. First night by the river in Baltinglass, second night on Currocloe beach, third night in Rosslare. By the time I met my great friend, Andy, in Wales, I felt burnt out with saddle sores and a cold. But Andy knows how to build reassurance; "not to worry mate, you're 1% into cycling around the world". As I rode across France in the winter of 2008, I refused to look at my map of the world. I would get depressed when I compared how little I'd travelled to how exhausted I felt. Dad and my brothers Paul and Eoin came out to visit me. Then Genevieve arrived for the New Year. By the time I got to Italy, I was beginning to enjoy the whole affair. Good food that just got better in Greece. I was feeling real fit now. The weather was great and the best of campsites were available everywhere. I'm happy in a museum, but with 130 museums in Athens, Greece, this was a serious overload for the senses. Next up was Turkey. There were 2 major set backs in Turkey. The neck cracking antics of the 'wanna-be-physio' and the loss of 80% of my stuff when I foolishly turned my back and should have known better. The disappointing realisation that the close of the trip was at the doorstep. But then who walks in the door, but a physiotherapist on a bicycle, with a quest to pedal around the world. A month later, I was 'back in the saddle' heading east towards Iran. I was so nervous heading in here. There's just no good news about this country. As it turned, Iran became the highlight of the entire bike ride. A country that shone like no other due to the overwhelming goodness of its people. Global media's obsession with misrepresenting this country is more than an irritation. Its a crime. Dehydration in Turkmenistan and hunger by choice (and for the good of my health in Uzbekistan). When hungry in Kyrgyzstan, I helped skin my own dinner. I carried my bike up mountains and skied with it down the other side. In China, I've been ordered out of my bed by police at a ridiculous hour. 'This hotel is unsuitable for foreigners. You must sleep in a tourist hotel'. Tibetans taught me how to dance. 'Swing your arms, Don't ye Irish swing your arms when ye dance'. I pedalled my bicycle up mountains half the height of Mt Everest and saw used oxygen canisters been thrown from tour buses by wealthy Chinese tourists as they struggled with the thin air. My legs were exhausted at this stage. But I wanted to continue travelling under my own steam, so I bought an inflatable zodiac boat. I tied the bicycle on the back of the raft and paddled down the Mekong river from the Golden Triangle to Luang Prabang in Laos. Didn't spend long in Vietnam but between Hanoi (Vietnam) and San Diego (United States), I spent a Christmas in Paradise (also known as Hawaii). Pedalled across the Mojave desert to make it to Vegas. I neither felt the thrill of winning nor the lull of losing, cause I never gambled. Mexico was bigger than I realised. When I entered, immigration said it would be impossible to cycle to Cancun. 'Its too far.'I was told. They gave me a 6 month visa. 45 days later I arrived into Cancun. Three days later I had a flight home. It was a bit of a rush towards the end. And then a volcano blew up in Iceland and I got stuck in New York City. I needed to dismantle the bike and put it in a box for the flight home. All I need to do now is cycle it from Dublin airport back home to Naas. The complete journey was 24,000KMs and it took 17 months.
Here are some movies created by Markus from Austria, whom I travelled with for 3 months in Asia.

www.unet.univie.ac.at/~a0440584/

2010-04-21T13:16:00.002-07:00

A journey that consisted of a continual stream of smiles and waves and cheers of encouragement. I've slept in everything from building sites to UNESCO world heritage sites. I've slept in peoples' back gardens, industrial estates, under a tree in front of a police station, bus stops, under motorway bridges, 4 star golf resorts etc etc. (I actually meant to sleep in a graveyard at some stage, but never got around to it. Ah well, there will be plenty of time for that later.) There were so many evenings spent watching the sunset or staring up at the stars. And then being woken up by the call of Prayer throughout Turkey to being woken up by the howl of the coyote throughout the North American deserts. I seem to automatically wake after sunrise and I never get tired of pedalling my bicycle. I've been chased by big dogs in England and very excited locals in Iran. In one village I was stoned by the school kids. In another I was directed to fields full of wild marijana. I've had lunch with heroin addicts and got drunk with police chiefs. I regret that I never made it into Iraq or Afghanistan. I just don't believe our media. When they are not publicising the irreverent antics of some 'celebrity', their main international topic of debate that they like to repeat over and over again is; 'The world is a dangerous place. Stay inside your bubble'. NEWSFLASH; Afghans love being photographed and when you enter Iraq from Turkey, there is a huge sign at the border saying "WELCOME TO IRAQ" in an attempt to develop the seeds of tourism. I hope to visit both these countries within the next 2 or 3 years. I've learnt that no matter where you go in this world, dogs pee on car wheels, moths fly towards the light and we live in a world full of good people. (Well, apart from Chinese police. Using brain washing and other aggressive methods of training, these people are transformed into pure evil robotic figures of authority. Only a very small percentage of these portrayed any vague human-like qualities.)

THANKS

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I got so much help along the way.
A very special thanks to my girlfriend, Genevieve, who not only tolerated such a selfish endevour as me going on a 17 month solo adventure holiday, but to continually support and encourage me throughout the journey. Just an incredible girl.

Special thanks to my Dad, Jim. In all he visited me 5 times during the trip. Great to have the company and also great for him to get the chance to spend his retirement travelling the world.

Thanks to the many other touring cyclists I met on the road. In particular, Markus from Austria. Not only was he great company and always keen to attempt the road less travelled, but the guy saved my live when that Kara Su river in Kyrgyzstan had the upper hand of a potentialy nasty situation.

Vincent the French physiotheripest on a bicycle, who checked into that Istanbul hostel and played a big part in sorting out my neck.

To the many home invitations. There is too many to mention but a few that particularly stood out was from Jerome in France and Clare and Recep in Turkey. Thanks guys.

Haji, The American guy living in China was a legend. The man's strenght exceeds the borders of time and the limitations of age. He's 70 years of age and is presently pedalling across Tibet, the rooftop of the world. This will be followed by a bike ride, not through, but around Australia, and then up the lenght of South America. Come on Haji, Whats your secret??

If anyone reads this blog and feels ready to give it (or something similar) a shot, my advice is; To do plenty of research and then go for it. Its important to work with the weather and wind direction. Long distance cycle tourers are always complaining about having the wind in their face. Check out the 'wunder map' on www.wunderground.com and plan accordingly. Have the best of maps and the most up to date information on visa requirements. Listen to local advice ,but don't always take it. "You can't go that way. The mountains are too high. Its too cold. Its too dangerous. Its not possible on a bicycle". When it gets really, really hard, remember that one day you will be looking back over that moment and enjoying the memory.

EQUIPMENT

2010-04-21T13:14:00.000-07:00

I bought all my own equipment, so when I recommend something, its not because I'm getting a sponsorship cheque at the end of the month, its because I genuinely believe in it. Rather than using cheap inferior equipment and carrying a load of spares, I only used what I believed to be the best available and I only carried 2 spare tubes, a puncture repair kit and a set of allen keys (and from China on, I carried one spare tyre).
First you need a good bicycle. I chose a Koga Signature. Its not available it Ireland so I took a one-way flight to Amsterdam and enjoyed the test ride home. All bike components were Shimano XT Deore. The saddle was a Brooks B17 and I have the same tyres since Rome; Swalable marathon plus. I encountered no problems with the bike. That bike has been left out in everything from freezing snow to the searing sun. Its been dropped, thrown over fences, dragged through ditches, choked with sand and dirt, smacked into potholes and those pedals have rotated a million times or more. I didn't even break a spoke. I believe its the best touring bike available. An average bicycle would have fallen apart within a month of what I put them through. I don't want to get to technical now, but if anyone wants more info on the chain choice, oil used, wheel rims etc, email me at markdotsd@hotmail.com
You need a good tent. It becomes home. I chose a Lightwave t0 ultra xt. I've slept in it about 400 times and only recently are the zips starting to fail. It only came down on me once - that was in a flash flood in Iran. It cost 300 euro and weights just over 1.5 kilos. It was worth every cent.
Sanity is relatively valuable - don't forget your ipod.
Now for equipment to avoid. Number one is Magura brakes. The first 5000KMs, they were just incredible, but after that they slowly deteriorated. Not stopping the bike when I needed them to and then sticking to the rims when I'm pedalling uphill. They were seriously expensive. The overpriced service kit was a joke. No instructions and not even brake pads. Magura brakes were probably the biggest regret of the trip.
And as for that XTX tyre from Bontrager. It takes a collective effort from research through to manufacture to create a tyre as hopeless as this. It failed to perform almost daily, giving countless punctures. Although I could never locate it, I'm certain there was some built in device that was able to locate and attract thorns. After a measly 2000KMs, I dumped this piece of balding rubber. I replaced the bontrager with the old swalable marathon plus tyre. Even though she had covered 13,000KMs, the retired swalable limped on the last 1,000KMs to Cancun. Its also worth noting that the bontrager cost more than the swalable. (It must have been that thorn tracker device.)

"ITS NOT ABOUT THE BIKE"

2010-04-21T12:36:00.001-07:00

I believe the bicycle is the greatest mode of transport and possibly the greatest invention ever. It was Leonardo Da Vinci at his best. It can take you wherever you wish to go. And if you are faced with an obstacle, its easy to push and light enough to carry. It can hold great weight (more than 40 kilos), and it can pull a trailer if necessary. Its non polluting, great for your health and fitness and its just fun being on one. If there are any problems mechanically, the bicycle is relatively easy to fix. And if I can't fix it, practically every town in the world has some sort of bicycle mechanic. Most of us probably have happy memories as kids on bicycles. Why do many of us turn our back on this enjoyment as we get older. I believed the bicycle would be the perfect mode of transport to travel around the world but personal security was always a concern. A solo touring cyclist is very vulnerable. Pedalling alone across some desert with everything you need to survive attached to the bicycle. The fear was it was going to attract the attention of some enterprising criminal. It took me 21 days to cycle across Iran and with no international bank cards recognized here, I crossed that border with U.S.$1000 in my pocket. Only one bank in Turkmenistan would give me money. 30 days in Uzbekistan and I only found one ATM working. These countries receive very little tourism and from the stares I was getting, I'm convinced most locals had never seen a tourist on a bicycle before. But rather than seeing a foreigner that they could rip-off or steal from, most people greeted me with smiles and waves and welcomes.
If you are whizzing through some country on a tour bus, you can very often be viewed as that wealthy tourist, but it seems that when you are on a bicycle, you are just greeted with curiosity and welcomes. In general the bicycle is the mode of transport of either children or the poor. So when I pedalled through some random town, I was neither viewed as a threat or as a wealthy tourist. People see you as something different and their curiosity welcomes you more than 99% of the time.

SIGNS AROUND THE WORLD

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NOTE - THIS BLOG WAS UPDATED AS I WAS ON THE ROAD. SO YOU WILL NOTICE THAT THE BLOG BEGINS AT THE END OF THE JOURNEY AND AS YOU SCROLL DOWN THROUGH IT, YOU WILL EVENTUALLY COME TO THE START OF THE JOURNEY.

WELCOME TO CANCUN

2010-04-21T12:14:00.000-07:00

The rain poured down as I pedalled into Cancun, Mexico. It was the end of a journey that begun 17 months ago. And the previous 5 years were spent planning and saving for this venture. In two days time I had a flight to Dublin and all that was left was to pedal it down to Naas. It was a strange feeling. I'm looking forward to getting home. I'm going to miss Global Cycle Ride.
It was a busy week. My flight to Dublin goes via United States and due to recent changes in U.S. immigration procedures, I needed to leave then re enter Mexico before I could take my flight out of Cancun. I pedalled hard towards Belize. I didn't see much of Belize. Immigration stamped me in. I found a nearby lake for a wash. And then immigration stamped me out again. I was back in Mexico but those Belize stamps in my passport should ensure a smooth passage past U.S. immigration and on to Ireland.

THE REMAINS OF THE MAYA EMPIRE

2010-04-21T11:51:00.001-07:00

UNEXPECTED WEATHER

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I never would have expected the weather that I'm getting here in south east Mexico. Its just the worst rain of the journey. Maybe its preparing me for an Irish summer. I don't know, but when you're wet, you're wet, and I just pedal on down that road regardless.

BREAKFAST AT THE OFFICE

2010-04-21T11:24:00.000-07:00

GLOBAL CYCLE RIDE - THE FINAL STAGE

2010-04-13T14:33:00.000-07:00

Below is an extract from Flann O'Brien's book 'The Third Policeman'

'People who spent most of their natural lives riding iron bicycles over the rocky roadsteads of this parish get their personalities mixed up with the personalities of their bicycle as a result of the interchanging of the atoms of each of them and you would be surprised at the number of people in these parts who nearly are half people and half bicycle.'
I let out a gasp of astonishment that made a sound in the air like a bad puncture.
'And you would be flabbergasted at the number of bicycles that are half human almost half-man, half partaking of humanity.'

Although there is a part of me that wants to continue pedalling down that road forever, life contains much better options than that. I'm going home. The initial plan was to "cycle around the world as long as my health allows and the challenge remains exciting". That global circuit is now almost complete. In fact, to the best of my knowledge, this makes Global Cycle Ride the first cycle around the world by any Irish person.
If you keep travelling east eventually you will arrive from the west. I'm 500KM from Cancun and Mexico's roads don't go further east than that. I have a flight next week that takes me back to Ireland. I'm so excited the last stage of the trip is finally here. I've been pedalling Global Cycle Ride for 17 months. I, and all my bicycle atoms are certainly going to miss this adventure that has been my day to day life for so long.

CENTRAL MEXICO AND INTO THE TROPICS

2010-04-06T22:49:00.000-07:00

My surroundings are gradually changing from desert back to jungle. Yesterday I crossed south over the Tropic of Cancer. Today I packed up my tent in a valley full of cactus plants. It was mostly a journey of downhill off the Sierra Madre Oriental mountains. I free wheeled past the first banana trees I'd seen since Asia. As a prepared my pasta dish in a grassy valley at sunset, I was joined by that all too familiar pest of the tropics, the mosquito. But at least I won't be getting any more punctures from those cactus plants. And by entering the tropics, natures evening tune had changed too. No more howls from the coyote but there are more birds and they are singing louder. Progress is slower through the jungle. There is more rolling hills and the meandering road rises and falls through these lush surroundings. Its a new heat too. The dry desert heat has become the hot and sticky tropical heat. The Huastac people of this region live a very simple life, but they have been very generous to me. Payment has been refused two days in a row for my lunch. Traffic has increased as I move away from the less populated desert regions and these roads don't have much in the line of a hard shoulder. I'm beginning to think the Mexican definition of safe driving is to hang the rosary beads on the rear view mirror and leave the driving to a higher power. But with 50 million Mexican drivers and so many crucifixes' by the side of the road, it should make these drivers' reconsider their belief's ability at multi-tasking.

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL

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Almost every town and village in Mexico seems to have a basketball court, but its not basketball that the school kids are playing.

A PINA COLADO FOR WHOEVER SPOTS THE BABY

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BUENAS NOCHES AMIGO

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It was soon after sunset when a bunch of local kids came across my tent and bicycle camped up by a river. Curiosity as to who this passing stranger was, caused them to wake me. With broken Spanish/English, we chatted away for an hour over a map of the world. I'm sure many of these kids had a bicycle and I think their minds were filled with wonder and excitement at the thoughts of just how far a bicycle can really take you. I had to stick this photo on the blog. The guy on the far left hates his nickname; 'Michael Jackson'.

EL TAJIN

2010-04-06T21:44:00.001-07:00

A liquid lunch of caramel tequila and mango juice with a bowl of walnuts set the right tone for my day of rest from cycling. I took a six kilometre bus journey from Papantla to the wonderous archaeological site of El Tajin. With shades, a sunhat and Pink Floyld's Pompeii on the ipod, I happily strolled about the ruins. The Totonac people who occupied the area between 600AD and 1200AD certainly took their football hooligism very seriously. The entire area has 17 ball courts and sculptures depicting human sacrifice connected with the 'ball game'. Back in Papantla the town was filled with celebration and very basic but amusing dances by the locals. I'm unsure, but I believe the sense of carnival is part of a religious celebration of the approach of the end of lent and the arrival of Easter. With so many people in traditional dress and almost everyone was holding vanilla pods woven into intricate designs of flowers and crucifixes, it made for a lovely evening as I strolled about the town square. I was just thinking; I'm 27 days in Mexico now and I haven't met a foreign tourist yet. As the day came to a close I decided to complete the day with a dessert similar to my liquid lunch. Now what's a "Turbo Muppet" cocktail?? considering I'm struggling with Spanish, there's only one real way to find out!

"HEY MAN, WE GOT A BIKE WASH IN HERE!"

2010-04-06T21:38:00.001-07:00

WELCOME TO THE CARIBBEAN

2010-04-06T21:36:00.000-07:00

The wind increased. The horizon turned blue and the air was filled with the sound of the waves against the beach front. By reaching the Caribbean, I had crossed the North American continent from salt water to salt water. It felt good to be back on a coastal cycle. Anywhere and everywhere could be a camp spot. Each upcoming town would be filled with endless choices of cheap seafood restaurants. The sun would rise across the Caribbean horizon and would set in the westward surrounding jungle.

FOLLOWING THE ROAD SOUTH

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I pedalled on down past La Antigua where the Spanish colonist, Hernan Cortes first arrived from Spain in 1519. Apparently he sunk his 11 ships soon after arriving. "We're going to take control of here or die trying." Within 2 years they had wiped out a 3000 year old civilization and introduced a new language and religion. I continued south. Veracruz is one of the hedonistic capitals of the world. Good Friday afternoon didn't seem to quench its thirst. There were already 6 different DJ's blasting out the rubbish on the beach as I rode past it. Apparently the party doesn't really start till after midnight. I left town.

MATT BLAKE

2010-04-06T21:35:00.001-07:00

10KMs up the road I met Matt Blake from England. Matt is the first long distance cyclist I've met since leaving Asia. This interesting guy had already pedalled 35,000KMs and he was only about half way through his journey. He was presently cycling between Prudhoe Bay (top of Alaska) and Ushuaia (bottom of Argentina). Matt invited me back to a farm where he was visiting friends and learning Spanish. The evening was spent comparing routes and experiences while playing dominos with the children.

CAMPING OPTIONS

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When I'm given the choice, I'd always choose the corner of some quiet field to pitch my tent. Matt told me would regularly sleep under bridges. I found it too noisy. You can call me a fussy sleeper, but tomorrow I'm back in my ditch.

SWAMPLAND

2010-04-06T21:30:00.001-07:00

There has been a lot of long biking days over the last few weeks. I almost always exceeded my daily 100KM quota. In Mexico, I've crossed desert, jungle and coastal plain. But just as evening began to set in today, I entered into a large swampland. I pedalled on fast as the light grew dimmer. I was getting concerned that I was just not going to find a campspot this evening. Then a gateway appeared; leading up a small trail to an island of palm trees surrounded by a swamp. Mosquitoes everywhere. I quickly put on an extra layer, including balaclava, to limit the bites. But my may concern here were crocodiles. I have read in my guide book that swamp tours to view crocodiles were available within a few hundred kilometres from here. If in doubt, set up a campfire. It generally freaks out any potential predators. I pumped the stove so that I could be ready to start another fire in seconds. That may not be enough time so I went to bed dreaming of crocodiles.

THE ROAD AINT CLOSED. ITS GONE

2010-04-06T21:28:00.000-07:00

Considering mosquitoes lose their appetite about 90 minutes after sunrise, I had a bit of a lie on this morning. Mosquito bites are mildly irritating. Crocodile bites raise more concern. But I pedalled out of that swamp with all limbs intact. I had not gone 20 KMs up the road before I passed the archaeoligical site at La Venta. While Olmeca is more infamously known as a world wide brand of tequila that apparently affects the hearing rather than the liver (...Hello Frank Booth...), they are originally renowned as an ancient civilization that sculptured heads out of giant rocks. I had the entire 10 acre site to myself. Although I begun the tour with Sigur Ros's {} on the ipod, I just had to change back to Pink Floyd's Pompeii. It truly is the album for wandering about a ruin.
My map clearly showed a secondary road that followed the coastline on south. I imagined a gorgeous cycle with the Caribbean on my left and a massive lagoon to my right. But local taxi drivers seemed adamant that I should not travel this way. They recommended the longer tolled motorway instead. I couldn't figure out why they were against the coastal route but its generally when I'm told a direction is impossible, that the journey becomes most interesting.
As it turns out the taxi drivers were talking about erosion. The reason I had this road to myself became more apparent 20KMs up the road. ie The end of the road. The locals seemed to suggest that as long as I follow the coast, the road will eventually return. Its lovely meeting these locals. They are very friendly throughout this region. Every family seems to have a dozen kids or so. But its hard work. Pushing a fully laden bike through sand in tropical heat is not easy going. The road comes and goes. When its there, I pedal along it. When it disappears, I can choose between the beach and the sandy trails through peoples' gardens. But the campspot opportunities are just magic. This evening I have a massive beach all to myself.

FIRST SIGN FOR CANCUN

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A destination to aim for.

I HAD QUITE A SERIOUS FACE ON ME TILL THAT PARROT BIT MY EAR.

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AS THE CROW FLIES

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I can't help but occasionally step off the main route and take some scenic detour through the mountains that will be so much shorter as the crow flies. But of course the flying crow doesn't have to worry about the state of those roads, the mountains on route or the limited options on getting supplies. I loaded up 4 days worth of food and considering I had the best road maps available of Mexico, I decided to check out its back roads. I know well enough at this stage that a secondary road in a developing country can be somewhere between a quarry entrance and a farmyard trail in Ireland. I left Torreon in a south east direction and after 3 days on dusty corrugated roads that shake the living daylights out of me and shake the blots out of the bicycle, I finally arrived out on highway 54 at San Tiburcio. In all, less that 40 vehicles passed me on these back roads. The locals were friendly and welcoming. Tourists are a rare sight in this part of Mexico. I saw a few ranch workers do their farm work from the original off-road mode of transport - the horse. The 'Luck of the Irish' certainly wasn't with me on St Patrick's Day. I got 3 punctures that day. That's a record for 1 day. The villages I passed through varied between abandoned and almost abandoned. Mini tornadoes spun down the road in front of me and each evening I camped up in Joshua tree forests while the sunsets were filled with the howls of the coyotes. I'm back on the main road now and in the town of Matehuala. I reckon I'll hit the Caribbean in a week or so. I can't wait.

A DAY IN THE LIFE

2010-03-14T17:26:00.000-07:00

While the initial plan was to bike across the United States from California to Florida,- plans change. I look forward to returning to America sometime but at this time I'm more drawn to venture south towards Mexico. I'm presently camped up in a small forest about 30KMs north of the city of Torreon in North Central Mexico. The trees are full of the sounds of small birds singing. I'm 10 days in Mexico now and this time has been spent pedalling across the Chihuahua desert. You've probably never heard of it. I'd never heard of it before I'd arrived here. As it turns out, the second largest desert in the North American Continent happens to be named after one of the smallest dogs around. Its been 10 days riding across a long, arid, mostly flat plain through this part of Mexico. Since leaving the United States, I've faced a brute of a headwind which has gradually turned to become a favourable tailwind that is directing me towards the Caribbean. Each desert night is very cold and I wake to find my water bottles frozen. But as I journey further south, the afternoon sun is consistently gaining strength. Between 1 and 3 in the afternoon, I'm sheltering under some bridge;-chilling in the shade and sipping hot tea. Not really viewing any over whelming sights. Not really over indulging in the Mexican food (as I find it too spicy). Instead, just using the time to reduce a distance between this desert and the warm tropical Caribbean Sea awaiting. It has been another glorious sunset as the birds conclude their evening symphony. The sky fills with stars but it quickly becomes much too cold to pass the evening lying out on the ground staring above. Instead I retire to the sleeping bag and wake with the sound of the them birds singing again. Pack up the sleeping bag. Roll up the mattress. Fold up the tent. Boil up the pot and after a breakfast of tea and musili, I'm ready for another day of pedalling down that road.

20,000 KMs CYCLED

2010-03-14T17:23:00.000-07:00

HEADING SOUTH

2010-03-01T21:47:00.000-08:00

Highway 93 south from Vegas may just be the most boring road in the world. Apart from passing over the Hoover Dam, which is just outside Vegas, the journey south was a long, straight, flat desert road. The days are getting longer. The cactus are getting bigger and many of the towns I'm passing are abandoned and given some of the craziest names. The town of Santa Claus www.en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Santa_Claus,_Arizona with its boarded up windows , all covered in graffiti and children's swings still standing in back yards. Then there was the appropriately named Nothing www.en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nothing,_Arizona . I didn't risk going in here as a sign outside warned 'KEEP OUT - BIOHAZARD'. I pedalled on down the road and before reaching Surprise www.en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Surprise_arizona , I passed Bagdad www.en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bagdad,_Arizona . Neither of these last two towns were abandoned, but in all I must have passed almost a dozen abandoned or close to abandoned towns during my time in America. There's something really chilling and eerie about seeing relatively new homes and business just boarded up and left for the desert to take.
But highway 93 eventually got me to Phoenix, Arizona. It took 6 days of pedalling so I was due a rest day. The lovely owner of the HI hostel here, Sue, was completely bonkers but in the best way possible. She enjoyed hearing tales of this long bike ride and as I checked out, she offered me free accommodation just to stay on. But I'm ready to leave America now. I'm excited about getting down to Mexico. America has been great, but as a cycle touring destination it lacks the excitement of what Europe and especially Asia has to offer.
Getting from Phoenix south to Tucson was going to be a bummer. I had 2 options;
1. Take the interstate highway which is a massive motorway that connects the 2 cities as the crow flies. Unfortunately bicycles are prohibited.
2. Take a big detour through the back roads of the Sonaran desert mountains.
I was making great headway on option Number 1. The long conveys of fast moving trucks acted as a great tailwind and I was flying along at 30+KMH. In fact I was half way to Tucson before the Sherriff arrived with flashing lights. Considering I was only in Arizona a week, he accepted I was unaware I was making a traffic violation. After a bit of a chat about Global Cycle Ride, this friendly officer decided to give me a police escort down the interstate for a few miles where I could make an exit and follow the railroad all the way to Tucson. This was great. I haven't had a police escort since Iran. As I pedalled down the Interstate freeway with the beacons flashing on the police car preceding me, I wondered what the passing traffic were thinking. Could they be witnessing the ultimate low-speed pursuit.

DRIVE THRU' AMERICA

2010-03-01T21:37:00.000-08:00

Restaurants, ATM's, Pharmacies, Liquor stores, and even an occasional wedding chapel. Only in America.

TILL DEATH DO US PART

2010-03-01T21:32:00.000-08:00

Is it any wonder the girl in this photo is crying. She has just had a $40 drive thru marriage ceremony. Chances are they are off to McDonalds for the wedding reception.

TRUCKIN'

2010-03-01T21:00:00.000-08:00

In America everything is bigger. The food portions are bigger. The people are bigger. And their trucks are seriously bigger. They look great-loads of chrome and a sleeper cab the size of a caravan. But whats the point?? The whole idea of having a bigger engine is to pull a greater weight, but they still work under the same weight restrictions as the trucks throughout Europe ie. 8 ton per axle. And so the point of these great big trucks must purely be; to look good. With fuel 3 times more expensive in Europe than here, it makes you wonder when is America gong to realise that the global gas tank is in the red. I'm looking forward to the day when we're all back on the bicycle. I'm ready for it anyway. For the record, this bicycle has travelled 19,000KMs on less than a cup full of oil. 10-4 Good-Buddy

SAGUARO NATIONAL PARK

2010-03-01T20:44:00.000-08:00

From Tucson I visited Saguaro National Park. Not only is this home to many species of cati, it also contains rattlesnakes, africanized honey bees ('Killer' bees) and mountain lions. I even saw a few other cyclists here. America has 58 National Parks and the few that I have witnesses have been just excellent.

LEAVING TUCSON

2010-03-01T20:16:00.000-08:00

Leaving Tucson on the road south seemed more like leaving a Mexican town rather than anywhere in the U.S. Most signs were in Spanish and the choice for tacos exceeded the choice of burgers. Arizona is a difficult state to get across on a bicycle. I was already on a warning from being caught on the interstate and if I was caught again, I'd be fined. Basically, I'm trying to cross the state from north west to south east without using motorways and it seems impossible to do so without occasionally using back road dirt tracks. To use the dirt tracks is difficult for 2 reasons;

1. We're presently getting a lot of rain here. And dirt track turn to mud in the wet. Mud is a nightmare on the bike. It makes it impossible to cycle and difficult to push.

2. I'm just 50KMs from the Mexico and I'm running parallel with the border. This region is very heavily policed due to smuggling and illegal immigration. The last thing I want is rude awakenings from my campspots from border patrol police or those they are chasing.

THUNDER AND LIGHTENING

2010-03-01T20:07:00.001-08:00

Last night the ground seemed to almost shake with the sound of thunder and the lightening was spectacular. But today was mud, mud, mud. When I finally found a hotel, they wanted $130 for the night. I wouldn't spend that in a week in America so it was back into the wet tent for another night. Its only 60KMs to Tombstone and I know there is a cheap hostel there.

GUN CONTROL

2010-03-01T19:49:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I waved down a pick-up at a dirt track cross roads for some help with directions. I could clearly see a hand gun on the passenger seat. He was a helpful but nervous guy. "You need to watch yourself round these parts. Them hills are full of drug smugglers." But he gave excellent directions and even offered to chuck the bike in the back of the pick-up and give me a lift to where I wished to go.

ADIOS AMERICA

2010-03-01T19:39:00.000-08:00

And so I've finally made it to the town of Tombstone in south east Arizona, the famous site of the O.K.Corral www.en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gunfight_at_the_O.K._Corral .Tomorrow I leave the United States and begin my journey into Mexico.

LEAVING LAS VEGAS

2010-02-17T18:54:00.000-08:00

Not much cycling has been done over the last 3 weeks. My Dad and his brother Tom came out to visit me in Las Vegas on February 2nd and we rented out a comfortable motor, with the plan of doing a bit of a tour around Vegas and the surrounding National Parks. I don't care much for cars but with a 3.5L petrol injection engine under the bonnet of our Dodge, we were going to be getting places fast anyway.
The two boys were blown away by Vegas. We wandered from casino to casino admiring what Las Vegas is all about. For many, Vegas is about sitting over a slot machine, feeding it your livelihood and being blinded, deafened and having your brain melted in the process. But for us, Vegas was about admiring its over-the-top ridiculous surroundings. A stroll down the main strip revealed replicas of the Eiffel Tower, the Pyramids of Egypt, the Statue of Liberty and the streets and canals of Venice. One casino had an aquarium, another had a glass cage with lions. The fountains of the Bellagio shoot water 240 ft into the air, the sinking of a 50ft pirate ship at the Treasure Island casino, a volcano erupting at the Mirage and an evening was filled with a Cirque du Soleil show.
But after 3 nights in 'Sin City', the urge was strong to pack up and tour the surrounding states. In all, we drove 1600 miles across parts of Nevada, Utah, Colorado and Arizona with the plan of visiting some of America's greatest National Parks. In all we visited 6 National Parks (Zion, Bryce, Capitol Reef, Arches, Canyon lands and Grand Canyon) and also Monument Valley tribal park. Photos describe it better than words, but erosion doesn't get any better than this. Although we got plenty of snow, it didn't hamper our progress. We passed over high passes and gave the snow ploughs a wide berth. And once we returned to the lowland desert regions, we passed the near deserted towns along the route 66 highway. Little can prepare you for the huge expanse of the Grand Canyon. Being able to clearly see mountains 240 miles away, is like looking out from Dublin and seeing the MacGillycuddy's Reeks in Kerry. An excellent holiday was had by all and I waved the two boys off at the Las Vegas airport on February 17th and returned to the hostel where my bicycle was in storage. I pumped the tyres full of air and decided it was time for some sun. I'm pedalling south towards Mexico.

AVALANCHE

2010-02-17T18:53:00.000-08:00

In Zion National Park, we witnessed not one, but four avalanches.

NEVER RAINS IN VEGAS

2010-02-17T18:50:00.000-08:00

This photo was taken at 9pm inside the Venetian Casino. The ceiling is painted as the sky would appear.

STARTING THE BIKE RIDE ACROSS U.S.A

2010-01-30T06:19:00.000-08:00

It felt great to be out on the road again. The city of San Diego, in the state of California, is in the most southern western part of the U.S. Resting next to the Pacific Ocean and just a few hours bike ride from Mexico, it was as good a place as any to start a U.S. coast to coast bicycle ride.
Firstly, I left San Diego (and all its low flying aircraft) and headed north on the famous Route 101. This is a gorgeous trip over rolling hills which hugged the Pacific coastline. Passing fancy neighbourhoods and too many restaurants that were outside my budget. The temptation was strong to just keep going north through Los Angeles and on to San Francisco, but I was supposed to be heading east not north. And besides, fly tentin' (i.e. to put up the tent illegally in some random spot) opportunities were of slim picking. After a day of biking north, I headed east. Along Route 76 through many Indian reservations. Then along past Lake Henshaw and into Anza Borrego desert state park. It felt good to be heading back into the desert. There's just something real special about heading into a desert on a bicycle.

BIG STORMS IN THE DESERT

2010-01-24T06:19:00.000-08:00

"So are you all ready for the big storms coming in tonight?"
"The WHAT?"
"Oh yeah, the first of 4 big storms are coming in tonight. We're expecting 20 inches of rain over the coming 5 days."
The last thing I was expecting as I venture into a desert is rain and flooding. I was advised that the storm was coming across from the west. Considering I was experiencing possibly some of the greatest tailwinds of the trip, I decided to push on north east towards Borrego Springs.
"Oh yeah, its comin' in for sure. We're expecting the biggest storm in 20 years", the locals assured me as I arrived in that next town.
The last thing I wanted was to be stuck out in some 'middle of nowhere' town. I was told a huge storm could cause flash floods which could block roads with debris. With such a strong tailwind, I decided to push on further, to push myself hard and make it on to Salton City, where the storm was not expected to hit.- The thing is I didn't make it to Salton City. A combination of the wind changing direction- It now seemed to be coming randomly from all directions. And I was foolishly wasting too much time taking photos of the extraordinary clouds that were coming in across the desert. I needed to pitch the tent on high ground to avoid any flash floods, but also in a sheltered section to avoid the strong winds that would easily blow the tent down. When I found a suitable spot, I pitched the tent using every tent peg and cable to make it as secure as possible. The tent shook violently in the wind as I prepared dinner inside. Throughout the night, the storm came and went. But between 11pm and midnight it was at its worst. Most worrying was the driving rain. Although the tent managed to keep the rain out, I sat inside, wearing my full rain gear, ready to abandon ship.
The thing is, I have gotten caught out before with flash floods. In Iran, I was camped up in a valley, when I heard, what I thought was horses galloping down the valley towards my tent. When I jumped out of my tent to check out the situation, I realised it was a flash flood coming straight towards me. My stuff had gotten wet that night but nothing was destroyed. I just lost a few tent pegs.
This time I made sure not to camp in any site that could lead to a repeat of that. But when I hear they are expecting the worst storm in 20 years and I'm on the border of a flash flood region, lets just say, I didn't sleep much that night.

MECCA

2010-01-23T06:15:00.000-08:00

If there was one group of people that were consistently good to me, it is people of the Islam religion. I remember being regularly told the reason for this, is because they always believe in helping the traveller. As many of them hope to make a great journey at some stage in their lives; The journey to Mecca.
I had never intended to visit Mecca. But today, I unwittingly arrived there. Mecca (in the state of California) is a big truckstop in a small town full of Mexicans. Its looking like I'll be spending the night here in Mecca. The wind and rain outside is unreal. Its just too difficult to cycle in. And the entire surrounding landscape has turned to mud. So camping is out and even if I could get to a motel, the nearest one is about 20 kms away. Its too dark and wet and dangerous to cycle that distance. So this will be the first time in 14 months of travel that I didn't find a bed for the night. Tonight I'm going to sit it out in a truckstop in Mecca. And its kind of ironic. When I consider all the home invitations I received throughout the Muslim world and here I am without a bed in a town called Mecca.

THE BURDEN OF CHOICE

2010-01-23T02:01:00.000-08:00

And what better way to leave Mecca than out on route 66. From old Roman roads in Europe to the Silk Route across Asia and now Route 66 across the states. There is probably no road nor highway across America that gains more intrigue than the famous route 66. Sadly there are no signs left to say you are actually on route 66 as it is priority number 1 on the 'want list' of every Harley Davison rider (after he gets that 'Born to be Wild' tattoo on his shoulder). But it was a beautiful route east through massive vegetable plantations, then extraordinary rock formations and later just out of the way wilderness. Considering I only met about 1 vehicle every 30 minutes it gives you an indication to the lack of traffic on this historic world renowned route.
As I pedalled on this barren route I thought about the upcoming adventure across America and one thing that felt real good was the fact that I was finally back in an english speaking country. I've spent much of the last year communicating with sign language, picture books and hopeless attempts at whatever the local language may be. But I've faced over 15 different languages over the past year and in some cases, I've had to communicate with people who have never seen or met a tourist. Communicating with people who have never met an adult who could not speak their own language can be very frustrating. From about Greece onwards, I generally choose my food in restaurants by walking straight into the kitchen and pointing at what ever looked good. I'd often have the kitchen staff either baffled or in fits of laughter as I rummaged through fridges, freezers and cupboards and I gathered up whatever took my fancy in the kitchen. If it was a case of being handed a menu, I'd generally just point at some random dish in the centre of the list. (The first few dishes are probably starters, the last few deserts, so the middle ones are most likely main courses.) I'm not a fussy eater so it would generally work out fine. But there have been a few occasions where I've been handed a plate of some random food that makes you question the pros and cons of hunger. But now that I'm here in the states, its a case of language no longer being a barrier and the sensation of being bombarded with choice;
'And what would you like to drink with that, sir?'
'Just give us a cola please'
'Would you like a regular Pepsi ,a diet Pepsi, a Pepsi max, a Dr Pepper, a cherry cola, a Coca Cola, a Coca Cola lite..........'
'Whatever'

IN GODS COUNTRY

2010-01-22T11:40:00.000-08:00

As I continued along route 66, I came to Joshua Tree National Park. In total, I spent 4 days in or around here. I camped for the first night in the National Park. That was a rough night. I was using my 'Ireland' registration plate as a shovel and digging a moat around the tent in an attempt to divert the steady stream of water that was pouring down in this desert. After that, I decided to pay the extra dollars, and sit out this storm in a motel room in the town of 29 palms. On TV I watched what the media labelled the "Western Wallop". To the east of me, I had tornadoes. To the west, I had snow storms. I had come from the south and the weather channel showed neighbourhoods in Mecca taking a hammering from flooding.
But 2 days later, Mother Nature calmed down and I was back out on my bicycle. I returned to the Joshua Tree National Park. Although it was very cold, it was both magical and eerie to be pedalling around a desert that was white with snow. I camped up for the night. Tomorrow I start my journey into the Mojave desert. This was going to be a big one.

MOJAVE DESERT

2010-01-21T11:44:00.000-08:00

"If you are on the quest for the 'middle of nowhere', you'll find it in the desert wilderness of the Mojave National Preserve, a 1.6 million acre jumble of sand dunes, mountains, Joshua trees, volcanic cylinder cones and sculpted rock formations. No services or facilities are available within the preserve" According to my Lonely Planet guidebook .

And so it was time to stock up. I visited a supermarket and loaded up 4 days worth of food. I then visited a restaurant and ate as much breakfast as I could. I then pedalled north into the heart of 'the middle of nowhere'. It was an amazing journey of pedalling across desert into the horizon. From 29 Springs, I headed north just outside a massive U.S. marine base. The air was filled with the sound of bombs going off as U.S. military did their training for desert combat elsewhere. Then I took a right back onto Route 66 and through the town of Amboy. I was told this town was abandoned, but here I found one old guy running a petrol station.
"Most people just come here to gas up and get out"
According to wikipedia, ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amboy,_California ) the population is 4. I continued north past the Devils Playground which is a collection of giant sand dunes. In Kelso, a retired plumber named Mike used his retirement savings to start up a sandwich and hotdog restaurant in the refurbished train station. (which is essentially used as the park rangers headquarters). I had not past a restaurant in 3 days and I wasn't expecting to see one out here. Mike told me he saw 4 touring cyclists pass this way last year. I continued north past Nipton and as I was putting up my tent, I could see an orangey haze of light in the distance. Each day in the desert closed with a fantastic sunset, but this was something different. This could only be the lights of Las Vegas. It still took me 2 more days of pedalling before I reached 'Sin City'. In total, it took me 2 weeks to get from San Diego to Las Vegas.

VIVA LAS VEGAS.

2010-01-20T12:21:00.000-08:00

The rain failed to dampen the excitement of turning on Flamingo and riding on up Las Vegas main strip. Truly a city like no other, bright neon lights, giant casino complexes scattered left and right based on the most outrageous themes. The Luxor is based on an Egyptian theme and comprises of a huge tinted glass pyramid with giant Sphinx outside. The New York, New York casino has a massive Statute of Liberty outside and the sounds of guests screaming as they enjoyed the hotels roller coaster. Further up, I passed the Eiffel Tower of the Paris casino. The Venetian casino offered gondola boat rides through its replicia of the canals of Venice. There was Caesars Palace, the Sahara and the Excalibur Casino was basically a giant multi coloured castle. Where else would you find a city where such excess has become standard. My accommodation was a hostel about 30 minute walk from the main strip. The 'Funky Monkey' is clean, cheap and comfy, it was excess enough for me after spending much of the last 10 days out in the desert. My Dad, Jim and his brother Tom are both recently retired and decided to fly out to see what Vegas is all about. (There goes two pension plans.) Their arrival date is February 2nd, so I have a few days to toy with and get familiar with this crazy city. Their plan is to stay 2 weeks, so that gives us plenty of time to tour around Vegas and the surrounding sights. So once again, I'm taking a break from cycling.

WELCOME TO THE U.S.A.

2010-01-13T08:46:00.000-08:00

U.S. Immigration official: What was the purpose of your visit to Iran?

Mark: Tourism.

U.S. Immigration official: I beg your pardon sir?

I excepted plenty of attention from U.S. immigration officials when I arrived into the Hawaiian islands, U.S.A. I had passport stamps for Iran plus 3 other countries that has borders with Afghanistan. But I had everything in order to increase my chances of getting through U.S. immigration. I had exit flights booked, photocopies of receipts of hotels booked and car rental within Hawaii, photocopies of recent bank statements, a copy of a letter from my previous employer saying I had a job to return to in Ireland. And so after plenty of questions, the understandably inquisitive, but polite U.S. immigration official granted me a 90 day visa to cross the U.S. with. Its worth mentioning that when I visited an outdoor store, later that day, to purchase a part for my stove than needed replacing, I'd seen more guns on my first few hours in Hawaii than the entire 21 days I spent in Iran. And when I decided to pick up a bottle of wine in a liquor store, I was asked, (for the first time in about 15 years) for proof of age identification. 'HAVE A NICE DAY'. Considering you are questioning if I'm over 21 years of age, I certainly will 'HAVE A NICE DAY'.
Now, let me tell ye about Hawaii. I'm sorry but there is no easy way to talk about Hawaii, without unintentionally (or otherwise) making any one, just green with envy. I'm real sorry. It just can't be helped. Its Paradise. And so if you feel this next paragraph is not going to help your PCBS (Post-Christmas-Blues-Syndrome), then just skip it and pick up that credit card bill instead. Its more likely to cheer you up.

It was December 22nd. The beach was full and the waves were big and the sun was beaming down. But there was no sunshine in Ireland. Genevieve's plane was stuck in Heathrow due to heavy snow. But 24 hours late, she arrived in these islands that label themselves Paradise. During our 2 week stay here, we toured 3 of the Hawaiian Islands - O'ahu, Maui and the Big Island. There was fun times on beautiful black sanded beaches as we were battling against some of the world's biggest waves. 3 days hiking through a National Park that is home to the worlds most active volcano. There was big, big portions of food and plenty of cocktails with fat chunks of pineapple and generous portions of alcohol. Although we camped for 3 nights, we did manage to do an occasional splurge. Using my credit card and Genevieve's wisdom, we managed a 4 night stay in a 4 star beach front golf resort. (Not my usual choice of accommodation, but if you check out http://www.hotwire.com/, ye can see how such hotels can be picked up reasonably cheaply.) We even rented out bicycles and free wheeled down from the lunar like landscape of the Haleakala Volcano. The fact that Genevieve managed to overtake me on the final hill is proof that my left knee is finally shot. There was whale watching tours on board multi-million dollar speed boats and catamaranas we gazed out at humpback whales doing the full breach in the Pacific. We went snorkelling a few times in calm secluded bays that were full of so many colourful fish, you'd swear you were snorkelling in a giant aquarium. And even on Christmas Day the priest performing the service had a multi coloured Hawaiian shirt visible through his vestments. This is Hawaii. It seemed a hundred million miles away from some of the regions I had pedalled through only a few months previously and these tropical islands are so full of pineapples, you could pick one up in the supermarket for cheaper than an apple. Again it seemed a hundred million miles from where my final destination is- Ireland. When I get emails from home about Ireland, I hear they are no longer measuring rainfall in inches. They are measuring it in feet and even metres. And it seems the only it stops raining, is when it starts snowing. As a tourist, Hawaii is about as good as it gets. Date of departure was the 4th of January. It seemed like we had only just arrived. Not easy saying 'Goodbye', I reckon it will take me about 4 months to cycle across the United States.

SAN DIEGO

2010-01-13T08:05:00.000-08:00

I arrived into mainland United States at the city of San Diego on the west coast. Gave the bicycle a real good service, got loads of maps and started planning a route across the states that allows me to see the worthy sights, while also taking the climate into consideration. Stayed at a pretty cool hostel (St Christopher's Hostel) in 'Little Italy'. Did some touristy stuff including visiting an aircraft carrier and one of the world's best zoos. San Diego zoo has it all, Western gorrillas, every big cat there is, orangutans and all bears including pandas. One of the best zoos in the world. Now lets get pedalling again.

LEAVING LUANG PRABANG

2009-12-19T20:53:00.000-08:00

It was time to chill out and one of the best towns in the world to do so is Luang Prabang in Laos. I forget what day I arrived and I don't know what day it is today , but I guess I was here about 2 weeks. So welcoming is Luang Prabang, that in these 2 weeks, I had my regular sandwich stall, where my 'Lao Mama' would make up a fine chicken sandwich for breakfast. She'd always throw in a few bananas to ensure I'd return tomorrow. Then its across the road to where my 'Lao Papa' at the coffee stall would boil me up a pint sized ultra strong Lao coffee. The evenings would be spent chatting to different people in the hostel or heading down to the night market stall to get fresh tasty food at a reasonable price. Afternoons would be spent wandering or having lunch in a restaurant with wi-fi and catching up with emails and trying to decide where GCR is off to next.

Thanks for all the emails and general interest in GCR. Just to answer a few questions that regularly came up. What kind of bike do I use. This is the bike. www.koga-signature.com/build-your-own-bike.aspx?country=NL&language=en. This bike and all its components have been great except for the Magura brakes, which packed it in after 12000KMs. Complicated and impossible to fix in Central Asia. The Magura service kit I ordered didn't even include brake pads of any instructions. The final straw was when myself and a Belgium nuclear physicists spent 2 hours working on them. He threw his hands in the air saying,' Why are these things so unnecessararily complicated. They ended up in the bin. Similarly, Markus's Magura brakes were nothing but trouble after 12000KMs. All other components on my bike were XT Deore and so finally I found new XT Dore brakes in Bangkok and these have been working fine since I got them 4000KMs ago. The other thing I've gotten asked a lot, 'Is what kind of work did I do at home, that gave me the time and cash to venture off for over a year?' At home I worked as a tour guide with a company named Vagabond. Check out http://www.vagabond.ie/. Nice work driving around the best parts of Ireland keeping tourists entertained with laughter, education, fun, history and singing songs. Luang Prabang is as good as a town can be but I don't plan spending Christmas here. Tomorrow I leave town and plan to get a boat north, back up to the border region with China and Vietnam. Gcr is supposed to be a cycling trip. It will soon be time to start pedaling again

VIETNAM AND FINALLY LEAVING ASIA

2009-12-19T20:02:00.000-08:00

And so I took that 2 day boat ride up the Nam Ou river to the town of Muang Khua, close to the Chinese and Vietnamese borders. The road to Vietnam would be classed as a dirt track in most other countries, but here in Laos it was labelled as a secondary road. The scenic 80KM journey through jungle took almost 2 days to cycle. But once I got over the the hilltop border post into Vietnam, it was 500KMs of asphalt to Hanoi.

When you take just the briefest glimpse at the history of Vietnam, it gives up an indication of the strenght of these amazing people. Although physically they are probably some of the smallest people I've come across, they are a people of great heart and patricism. Throughout history, anyone who picked a fight with these people, got their ass severly kicked. The Mongols back in the 1300's may have taken everything from Mongloia to North Africa, but there was no getting through the region where Vietnam now stands. The Chinese had an unsuccessful go at Vietnam in 1979. It was the Vietnamese who overthrew Polpot and the Khmer Rouge when the U.N. and the rest of the western world turned its back on the Cambodian killing fields. And when the mighty arm of the U.S. with the support of the Australias, Kiwis, Thai and Koreans marched into the Vietnam war, they were chucked out of therre in such a panic, that you can still see the remains of U.S. military equipment throughout the country. There are abandoned tanks at major roundabouts and junctions and theres still U.S. army trucks hauling timber on the roads here. The Vietnamese have never started a war but they have finished many. The French were about the only nation to gain hold of Vietnam when they colonised here in the 19th century. But ultimately Vietnam gained independence in 1954. What a history! What a country! What a way to finish Asia.

With just over 17000KMs cycled, I pedalled into Hanoi on the doorstep of the Pacific Ocean. In doing so, I completed stage 3 of GCR. 2 continents cycled and I now only plan to cycle 1 more (North America). Its been a great adventure to date. Slowly passing through different countries. The thousands of smiles and waves and Hellos (not forgetting the occasional roadside round of applause in Iran). Watching peoples' features gradually change from our fair Irish complexion to the lovely Vietnamese family who this evening invited me into their homefor food and a bed for the night. Throughout Asia, whether I've greeted with a handshake or some guy holding a machine gun, I've always smiled and said a welcoming Hello. And the reply has been almost always the same. Its been friendly.

YOU SEE A LOT OF CRAZY THINGS ON THE ROADS IN VIETNAM

2009-12-19T03:34:00.000-08:00

TODAY A THOUGHT POPPED INTO MY MIND

2009-12-19T02:14:00.000-08:00

I remember when I met a priest in Kiltegan in Co. Wicklow, Ireland.
"Where are you going?" he asked
"I plan to spend the next year or two cycling around the world", I replied
"When did you start"
"I left Naas yesterday", I replied
"I see, well, good luck", he replied, completely sure I was bonkers

And yesterday I saw the first indication of Christmas. I saw a shop with a Christmas tree in it. It must be getting near Christmas I thought. This time last year I was just 5 weeks on the road and I got as far as France. Apparently it was their coldest winter in 20 years. So this year I've decided to spend Christmas somewhere warmer. I fly to Hawaii tomorrow.
Happy Christmas. Talk to ye in 2010

RAFTING DOWN THE MEKONG

2009-12-04T21:22:00.000-08:00

With a farewell party consisting of about 50 screaming kids, we took the boat to water and began our journey out of the town of Chang Saen in Thailand and down the Mekong towards Laos. Our starting post was just 10KMs south of the 'Golden Triangle', a tri-country border between Thailand, Myanmar and Laos, infamous since the 1600s for its vast opium plantations. Now its more famous as a tourist attraction. Once the boat was in the water, the powerful current had it and we quickly jumped on. The good news is it floats. Although the boat is designed to take 450 kilos, there was always the niggling fear that the weight of the two bikes, 50 kilos of luggage, food and water and Markus and I on board was going to be too much weight for the boat. We quickly learned the current played a bigger role in deciding our direction than our paddling could dictate. But very soon we had it out of town and we practiced different paddling strokes as we tried to come to terms with our new mode of transport for the next few weeks.Initially it felt fast. Within 15 minutes of being on the boat, the town of Chang Saen was far behind, but in general the boat moves at an average speed of about 8km/hr. We called the boat 'до свидания' (do svi-dan-niye). Its Russian for 'Goodbye'. All through China we never learned the Chinese word for 'Goodbye', so we just continued with до свидания (do svi-dan-niye). We had enough food for 3 days, but we were sure we would survive on fishing and wild bananas. Neither proved very successful though. Every second local was fishing and their hugh nets rarely caught anything bigger than 3 inches long. And the bananas were difficult to get and the few we did get were either rock hard or rotting.For the first few days the Mekong acted as the boundary between Thailand and Laos. We had the Thai entry stamp in our passport and hadn't yet got the Laos visa, but when we spotted an empty beach on the Laos side for our first nights camp, we didn't hesitate to paddle up and set up camp and start preparing dinner. Just at sunset, 3 barefoot men, dressed in old and shabby military clothes and carrying machine guns approached us. They walked in our direction about 30 feet apart from each other. It was quite a shock but we greeted them as we do everyone else; We waved, said hello and gave a nervous but friendly smile. Using sign language, we explained we wish to eat and sleep here and tomorrow we move on. To this day, I don't know if they were Lao military, pirates, hunters or security for an opium plantation. Either way, they made a phone call and said goodbye. We gave them an orange each, said до свидания (do svi-dan-niye) and continued with dinner.We paddled on for another 4 days. It was all the same stuff - generally quite calm which requires more work and a few occasional rapids and whirlpools which gets the whole thing going. For a lot of the time we seem to be working our way through 'Lake Mekong' as we call it. The current can be very gradual and if you don't use the oars, you get nowhere. But when the current kicks in through the narrow spots, it gets real exciting. Waves splashing over the boat, currents pulling us left and right and whirlpools sucking us in and doing double 360 degree spins before spitting us out with a jump. Our route took us from Chang Saen in Thailand to Huay Xai in Laos. From there, we continued through Laos to Pak Beng and Luang Prabang. This is my third visit to Laos. I've toured here before by bus and by bicycle so it was great this time to see the country by boat. Every night we slept on beaches except for one night on the floor of a river boat restaurant in Pak Beng. Here we got free accommodation and a place to tie up the boat, as long as we ordered dinner and breakfast from their reasonably priced menu. This little town had a reasonably sized market that we could stock up on foods for the next leg of the journey. It took a further 5 days to get down to Luang Prabang. Now the scenery started getting real interesting with rolling hills of dense jungle. There were few and small settlements, but because this region is poorly serviced by road and the only route to the outside world is through the Mekong, these places were very sparsely populated. We docked in at a few villages just to check them out and fill up our 6 litre water bottle and check to see if someone would sell us a fish. Although these communities were very primitive, there were still some schools and the children would come running down to welcome the tourists in the unusual inflatable boat. These people would be used to seeing tourists go by on the tour boats, but it would be very rare for tourists to venture into these villages. The kids would stare wide eyed with surprise as we wandered through the villages looking for food and drinkable water. In total we have been about 12 days on the water and one of the hardest things about travelling in this way is the fact that we rarely know where we are. When cycling, the sign posts at major junctions always give you, at least, a rough idea to where you are. But with these small villages, they are rarely mentioned on maps. There are obviously no signposts to indicate distance and no one seems to have an idea of the kilometre distance to the next decent sized town. And so when we came around a corner to face the familiar sight of the truly beautiful Unesco Heritage town of Luang Prabang, it was just brilliant. We had made it to, what I consider to be, the best town in South East Asia. We deflated the boat, and lugged everything up to a nearby "cheap,cheap, special price for you, my friend" guesthouse. And then we sat down and had a beer. In fact we had a few of them.The coming days were spent chilling out in this very relaxing town. We toyed with the idea of putting most of our stuff in storage in Luang Prabang and taking just the boat and the bare minaminal of stuff to near the source of the lively Nam Ou river. High in the mountains, this would have been exciting stuff. Up till now, the adrenalin quantity of any proposed venture seemed to be the deciding factor in taking it on. And so it was time to maybe slow things down abit. Travelling with Markus has been an absolute blast. Rarely do you get to meet someone with so much energy. But Markus has family and friends arriving over to Bangkok in a couple of weeks and I'm thinking of continuing on to Vietnam and the Pacific Ocean. We said farewell over a few more beers and came up with a few exciting adventures for the future. Who knows, maybe we'll dog-sled across Greenland at some stage in the future. But my present plan is to rest up for another week or so and then pedal the last few hundred KMs to Hanoi in North Vietnam.

FINALLY LEAVE CHINA

2009-11-17T07:43:00.001-08:00

Its day 365 of Global Cycle Ride and after spending most of the last 10 weeks cycling from China's north west to its south, I have finally crossed over into Thailand. This blog has been banned throughout China, so now as I cross over into Thailand, I can finally get the chance to update ye on what I've been up over the last 10 weeks. Adventures mentioned below include cycling across the second largest sand desert in the world, reaching heights of up to 4700M above sea level in the Himalayan frontier, witnessing a Sky Burial where human corpses were fed to vultures and I'm after getting tired of cycling, so I bought a boat. Everyday has been a crazy adventure. Read on and enjoy

LEAVING CENTRAL ASIA - WELCOME TO CHINA

2009-11-17T04:46:00.000-08:00

Off the 3 'Stans' I visited, (Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan) Kyrgyzstan would definitely be my favourite. If you love mountains, come to Kyrgyzstan. The people are wonderful without that 'over the top in your face' kinda friendly. And the Kyrgyz visa is the least complicated of all the 'Stans'. Its a shame therefore that it ended on a bit of sour note. As I approached the Irkeshtam border crossing between Kyrgyzstan and China, I came upon a 'STOP-POLICE CHECK' sign. I could see a police man sitting on a nearby bench. He looked like I couldn't care less if I stopped or otherwise. But a police car pulled up and an officer got out and signalled for me to come over. First thing he did was grab the hat from my head and put in on his own head. The smell of drink off him was over powering. He could barely stand. He was complaining about something or other, but I explained how I didn't understand Kyrgyz and only knew very basic Russian. He then grabbed the bike from me and made an attempt to cycle it. But he was too drunk to get his leg over the cross bar. The then dropped the bike, causing the mirror to break. I was furious. He then asked for my passport. In broken Russian and sign language I told him,'He was too drunk and to go sleep it off'. He didn't take kindly to being told what to do, but I walked past him to the other officer who witnessed all what happened. As I showed the other officer my passport, (using broken Russian and sign language), I said to him, with enough volume so that the drunk officer could hear me; ' I loved Kyrgyzstan. All the people have been great. Surly he's not from Kyrgyzstan. Is he from Uzbekistan?' It had the desired effect. The drunk was furious but I was pedalling down towards customs control before he knew it. Incidentally, all the customs control officer wanted to know was if I had a spare cigarette? I was stamped out of Kyrgyzstan and pedalling across no-mans-land to China. Everything here was handled with a lot more military precision. The first thing that struck me was that everyone was huge. I don't think I've ever seen a tall Chinese man and now I was surrounded by them. It was about 5.15pm and the border was closing in 15 minutes. I had deliberately left it late in getting across this border in the hope that the search of my bags would not be too thorough. I was carrying two guidebooks on Tibet and a detailed map of Tibet. I'd ripped the covers off my books. Even Lonely Planet China can be confiscated at the border,as it shows Taiwan in a different colour to mainland China. At one stage a border official had Kym McConnell's 'Route and planning guide for mountain bikers across Tibet' in his hand. This book contains exact locations of police checkpoints across Tibet. (In fact I just noticed the forward is from the Dalai Lama). I had answers prepared if I was caught with these books, but thankfully I got my entry stamp into China and the border closed on time. It took 5 solid days of cycling from sunrise to sunset to make it from Osh, Kyrgyzstan to Kashgar, China. It was a particularly difficult ride. Dust was my main enemy. Convoys of trucks brought Chinese goods across this rocky dirt track and each rig showered me in dust. The mountains in this region are pretty much the tail end of the Himalayas. The highest pass we crossed was 3615M which makes it the second highest of the trip to date. A boy travelling on horseback offered to swap a ride on his horse for a ride on my bike. It was a 12% incline. I was happy to oblige. It got cold up here but the scenery was just extraordinary. Sunset was a particular treat as it cast shadows across the mountains. I've always been pretty handy at budgeting on long trips but in the last 3 days in China I've only spent €0.40. But this is not due to careful financial planning. Its due to the fact that north western China is predominantly Muslim (I think) and its presently Ramada. This means restaurants close from sunrise to sunset. I had completely overlooked this fact but I knew this part of the trip would be particularly desolate so thankfully I was carrying many days food. I'm after getting another big surprise since arriving in Kashgar. Its well publicised that the People's Republic of China is a very restrictive regime on its people. I expected my blog to be blocked. But since the riots in Urumqi in which the police killed 158 people according to BBC reports, all internet communication has been blocked, including hotmail. International calls are banned. My overriding impression of Kashgar is not the multitude of tower cranes spread across the city sky line. Its not the 50ft high statute of Mao or even the wonderful old town with all its chaotic trading. The over riding impression of Kashgar is the convoys of trucks that go round and round the city centre with approximately 45 riot police clearly visible on each convoy. I've never seen anything like it. They cruise at about 10mph while the traffic buzzes around them. The army trucks are pretty much the same as home, but where the soldiers would be seated in the back, here they are standing behind a presumably bullet proof glass. The only time I've ever seen someone paraded around in a glass boxed vehicle, it was the Pope in the Phoenix park in 1979. But these guys have a whole different objective. Its pure intimidation. You see school children playing on their way home from school, loved up couples-holding hands and strolling by the lake and round and round these convoys go. Soldiers march the streets in full riot gear as if the public parks were a military training ground. I saw this consisteny during my 2 days in Kashgar, but I did not take a photo. I didn't dare take a photo.

2009-11-17T04:45:00.003-08:00

When leaving Ireland almost 10 months ago the original plan was always to try to cycle around the globe using just by bicycle and to only progress using a boat or plane when I met a large body of water. Basically no unnecessary motorised transport. But plans change. Just before I left Osh,Kyrgyzstan, I received an email from Markus from Austria. Markus had joined me from Osh to Bishkek. Ye may remember previously in this blog (Day 225) about our adventure off the main road, with our bags on donkeys, as we slid down glaciers and carried the bikes on our shoulders up over steep passes. Well, after 4 attempts, Markus finally got his Chinese visa. He's on his way down from Kazakhstan, and the email reads 'if you fancy giving this Taklamakan desert a go, I'll be in the town of Luntai on the 12th'. Rule number 1 was to cycle every kilometre. But I think its worth breaking rule number 1 to have good company on the world's longest road through a sand desert. And besides, I've never taken the most direct route across Europe and Asia. I think I deserve a sleeper bus after that 550KM adventurous, scenic detour in Kyrgyzstan. So I'm cheating. I'm taking an 800KM bus ride across flat, featureless, arid steepe in the hope of meeting Markus in the town of Luntai on the edge of the Taklamakan.

SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO NOW?

2009-11-17T04:45:00.001-08:00

My understanding of Luntai was a kinda of 'one horse town' on the edge of the desert. My guide book mentions there is one hotel in town opposite the bus station. It seemed like the perfect place to meet Markus before going into the Taklamakan. Even one of my concerns were 'would the town have a big enough store to stock up on supplies'. But things are changing fast throughout China. The Xinjiang provence is seen as the 'Golden Goose' of China. An area rich in oil and gas reserves. And these golden goose prospects have changed our one horse town into a bustling city. With the internet and international phone calls banned in the Xinjiang provence since the recent riots in Urumphi, its become very difficult to find my travelling buddy, Markus. I reckon I'm the only tourist in town. I've checked into a €3 a night hovel but it has all the characteristics I need. It has a balcony overlooking the main street and bus station. Many of the other guests in the 'Hovel Hotel' are truck drivers who are sitting around waiting for a phone call for work. These guys are happy sitting on the balcony watching the traffic go by, and they too are on the watch out for another cycle tourist. The taxi rank is across the road and there is always more taxis than customers and these guys are also on the lookout for a tourist on a bicycle. But after 2 days chilling out on this balcony, with regular cycles around town, I'm quiet sure Markus never made it to Luntai. Maybe we'll cross paths down the road somewhere. The internet/international phone call ban only applies to the provence of Xinjiang so once I get out of this provence (which is 20 times the size of Ireland), I'll hopefully be able to find out what happened to him.The question now is; Should I go into the Taklamakan on my own?? I don't know how many times bigger than Ireland this desert is, but its the second largest sand desert in the world. On the ancient Silk Road, traders would either journey north of the desert or south of it. No route existed through the centre of the desert. Even the name 'Taklamakan' means 'He who enters does not leave'. But now there are two cross desert highways. So am I going in??? Of course I'm going in. The alarm is set for 5am. I know the Chinese have found oil in this desert, so a newly built road has recently been completed. If there is regular trucks on the road, then surely there will be truck stops. I remember reading a blog of one cyclist who made it through earlier this year. My plan was to reread that section of his blog before deciding to go in or not. (But,once again, no internet). Anyway, he must have survived, if he wrote a blog afterwards. My plan is to go in fully loaded with food and water, and as I get into the desert and meet some locals, I will be able to find out more of the road ahead. Also if there is a reasonable amount of traffic on the road, you can always wave down some vehicle with a large dollar bill and get a lift out of the place. Although we had a sand storm in the city today, as long as the wind remains in its present southerly direction, I'll have a strong tail wind. But if the direction changes, I'll skip the Taklamakan and take the main road around the desert instead. Fingers crossed, tomorrow we go in..........

TAKLAMAKAN DESERT

2009-11-17T04:38:00.000-08:00

Make no mistake about it - This is the desert of all deserts. Its one massive, beautiful, scary place. It seems one endless horizon of rolling sand dunes. 80KMs south of my lookout tower/Hovel Hotel balcony, I found a very fancy restaurant. The friendly staff fed me great food and close to a gallon of tea as I sat back the afternoon, waiting for the midday sun to ease. Using sign language and a lot of map pointing, I was reassured all round, that my main concern of there being no restaurants along my chosen route, was not going to be a problem. I felt I had over-packed with my 10 litres of water and 4 days food supply. BUT the next restaurant I passed was 250KMs down the road. That was 250KMs of no restaurant, no shop, no house, no camel, no goat herder, one bridge, one crossroad, one long straight road through and infinity of sand dunes. Two camp spots with another infinity of bright stars in the sky. Sunrise and sunset was Mother Nature in glorious form as she toyed with shade and shadow across the dunes. But she wasn't in such glorious form when my tailwind became a headwind. Sand gets into everything. It sticks to your sun cream. It tears up your nostrils causing nose bleeds. Its in your sleeping bag, your bicycle chain and don't drink that last mouthful of your morning mug of tea. Its a mouthful of sand.This is desert number 3 on Global cycle ride;1.Karakum - Turkmenistan2.Kyzulkum - Uzbekistan3.Taklamakan - ChinaThe Karakum was tough. The heat was unreal at the time that I was crossing it. The Kyzulkum was almost friendly in comparison. Although the road was relativity poor, a truck stop every 25 KMs and a powerful tailwind made it all very achievable. But the Taklamakan is an extraordinary place. Just endless sand dunes and not much else. Its truly an amazing achievement for the Chinese to build a road through such terrain. And while sleeper buses tear by leaving behind a trail of dust, fumes and ZZZzzzs, I'm holding my brake levers, to soak in the all my surroundings. Its a beautiful place,but its a not place where you want things to go wrong.When I finally made it to that restaurant 250KMs down the road (where I now am), I entered the town cautiously and quietly just after sunset. The only people of this town are directly or indirectly involved in oil and gas projects. It seemed no place for a foreign tourist to be. I had managed to get this far without any police interference and the plan was to get loads of hot food and tea and venture back out into the dunes to camp up for the night. But instead my arrival was greeted with the frantic horn blowing of some over excited motorist. I pulled over to the road side and looked over my shoulder expecting police. Instead three beaming Chinese faces smiled up and handed me a note. It read, 'You are 1 day ahead of me, Please wait.' It wasn't signed, but I presume its Markus and he has heard I'm down the road from him. There's a basic hotel in town, so my plan for tomorrow is to sit by the window and drink tea. And see who passes by.

2009-11-17T04:27:00.000-08:00

Tajung is halfway through the Taklamakan. It was a town of 1 hotel, 1 restaurant, 3 food stores and a handful of other stores. The most noticeable feature of this town was all the brothels. There was more brothels than all other stores combined. I had heard from passing bus and truck drivers that a lone cyclist was seen crossing the desert first 100KM, then 50KM, then 10KM from town. By the time Markus had rolled into town it seemed half the population was expecting him. He was greeted with 'Ireland, Ireland' and was brought by about 15 people to the only restaurant in town , where I had spent the day drinking tea and reading my book. Beer and more beer was ordered and while I had updated him on fun times in south east Asia, Markus talked of having snow up to his waist as he crossed passes from Kyrgyzstan to Kazakhstan, the endless complications in getting his Chinese visa, getting arrested for wandering (deliberately) into an area that was "closed to the world" according to Chinese authorises. "You shall be punished", he was told. Punishment was agreed with a €20 fine. Maps of China were sprawled across the table as discussions of routes, Himalayas, visa extensions, the approaching winter filled our table. The great news is we roughly had the same plan. The question remained; Would it be possible? Firstly we wished to detour from the Cross-Desert-Highway which would bring us out in Minfeng. We wish to take the lesser travelled desert route to Qiemo. Its most likely we would be the first people to attempt this route by bicycle. The plan would be to take road 315 out of the Xinliang provence and into the Quighai provence. This would eventually get us to Golmud. Our visas would be running out at this stage so a visa extension in Golmud would be ideal if possible. (If not Plan B comes into operation,-Presently we don't know what Plan B is). Then it comes down to where we can or cannot go. Tibet is out. End of story. Without a guide to dictate and supervise our every move, permits are impossible. Even if either of us could afford a guide we have no intention of paying and thereby promoting such a system. Independent travel is King. So the plan is to continue south east to the provinces of Sichuan and Yunnan. Another visa extension will be needed at this stage. The question remains; Will we get it?The next day started with clear skies. We learned we would not pass an source of food or water for 200KM. By mid afternoon a strong direct headwind through a sand storm brought us to a stop. But with no where to shelter and winds to powerful to pitch a tent in the sand, there was nothing to do but pedal through it. It calmed after sunset and with zero traffic on the road, we pedalled into the night. Exhausted at the end of the day, we didn't even set up our tents; Just blew up our mattresses and climbed into our sleeping bags.We were packing up our stuff before sunrise and decided to venture off walking away from the road and into the desert. A perfectly calm morning with splendid sunrise. The dunes were just spectacular. Plenty of photos and it was time to get back on the bike. Our main aim today was to get out of the desert and to skirt the road around the desert. Making it to a village just before Qiemo was ideal. We bought some food and beers and sat out in front of a convenice store. It was well past sunset and we had no fears of finding a camp spot. Who cares at this stage. Sure we always find somewhere. And sure enough the store owner invited us in to sleep on the shop floor. We had a fine nights sleep here. The rats and mice stayed in one corner and we stayed in the other. One of the best things about sleeping in a convience store is the choice available for breakfast. We were up again at sunrise. It was great to complete the 550KM crossing of the Taklamakan. Now the plan was to skirt around the desert on Highway 315. There was many more days of desert biking before we start into the mountains. Gradually the desert became a completely flat landscape of small stones. It took us 3 days to cross this 'Lunar landscape', as we called it. Neil Armstrong could have saved the American taxpayer millions and gone for a walk here instead. I've been in some wild winds in everywhere from Antarctica to Patagonia to Iceland, but I've never experienced winds like these here in Western China. It was a direct head wind and although we were on a perfectly asphalted road, we had to walk the bikes due to the power of the wind. Both our maps pointed to the fact that we would be passing 5 towns over the coming days. But 3 of them were abandoned. At one stage we were down to 1 litre of water between us. Thankfully we came across a road workers' shelter, and here we could refill our bottles.The past 8 days have been very difficult. We would go from sunrise till way past sunset, and rest for about 4 hours in the afternoon as the wind was generally most powerful then. As the sight of the mountains came into view it was a great relief. We were finally getting off this moon. We had hoped to find regular streams to stock up on water but the mountains are completely barren with no agriculture and the only people seemed to be more road workers. And the stream water we found was too saltly to drink. Yesterday we climbed from the 'Lunar landscape' of 1200M to 33350M into the mountains. It was a massive climb but that powerful headwind in the valley became a tailwind and literally blew us up the mountain. In the desert and lunar landscape, Markus and I never bothered setting up our tents, we would throw down the mattress and sleeping bags and sleep wherever. But once we ventured into the mountains, there was an expected temperature decrease. Its morning now as I lay here in my tent and my thermometer reads 2'C. My water bottle outside the tent is partially frozen. The sun has already risen, but I'm in no mood to get out of my cosy sleeping bag. We believe there is a big town coming up. I'm looking forward to this. A choice of restaurants, Maybe even a hotel. All things considered, we are on schedule to reach Golmud before our visas expire.

RADIO MAST

2009-11-17T04:22:00.000-08:00

MARK: "Hey Markus, look at the big radio mast. Lets camp beside it and climb tomorrow at sunrise.

"MARKUS: " Excellent idea."

2009-11-17T04:16:00.001-08:00

Markus and I have cycled almost 1500 KMs in 13 days- A journey from the Taklamakan desert in the Xinjiang provence to the city of Golmud in the Qinghai provence. It would be best described as a tough ride across empty horizons. We never passed more than 3 settlements in any one day and some days we passed nothing at all. But in this great emptiness was also a great beauty.- From rolling sand dunes to a great lunar landscape to barren mountains. We passed just a handful of streams but these were all too salty to drink from. We passed very few places to eat but we were carrying a lot of food and we never missed an opportunity to restock our supplies. And food throughout China has been constantly brilliant. Arriving in Golmud was a massive relief. The massive choice of restaurants and supermarkets and basically just the choice of food was enough to keep us smiling. Markus's visa expires on Monday and it was a Thursday afternoon. We needed to reapply for his visa extension today. And this is where the real bad news hit us. When we are out in these remote areas on a bike, you pretty much lose track of all news from the world. Your day revolves around food, water, weather, distance and a place to sleep. It turns out China is celebrating its 60th birthday and so we were into our first day of 8 days public holiday being declared across the nation. The only PSB (Public Security Bureau) able to extend visas in the whole provence for the next 8 days is 800KMs away in the provincial capital of Xining. We are advised by the PSB in Golmud to get to Xining fast. Our plan of getting our visas extended in Golmud and heading south along Highway 103 and then east across to Yushu was now impossible. We had little choice, but to follow the Golmud PSB officers advice and take the next train out of Golmud and extend our visas in Xining.With the help of the most coked up, aggressive natured and frightening police officer, we managed to get two tickets for tomorrow evenings' train to Xining. Everything seemed in order. When we arrived the next evening at the train station, it was decided (after 30 minutes of ridiculous commotion), that the bicycles couldn't go with us on the train. Security procedures meant that the bikes would have to go on a freight train tomorrow morning and we would get the evening passenger train. You would think it couldn't possibly get any more ridiculous than this, but it was just starting. The whole process was so ludicrous, its just too much to go through it all now. To make a long story short, the next morning we arrived for check in at the freight departure area. There was police everywhere, with Alsatian dogs, with loudspeakers barking out orders (not the dogs, the police)...We weren't allowed to transport our cooking stoves, our knives, batteries even glue for our puncture repair kit on the FREIGHT train. We would be leaving town 9 hours later on the PASSENGER train and as far as the police guarding the freight were concerned we could bring it on the passenger train. It wasn't their problem. Needless to say the police patrolling the passenger trains would never have let us board a train with a bag full of knives, stoves, glue and batteries. The standoff lasted over an hour with one police officer almost crying (not due to us but due to the intimidating behaviour of her fellow police officers in a ridiculous situation). These stoves are worth €150 each and were emptied of fuel and if they are allowed on planes across the world, I can't understand how they can be refused on a Chinese freight train.Looking back now, it makes me laugh rather than annoys me. The tension that was in the air that day- The level of genuine brain washing that is used in the turning of people into machines, that these people endured to successfully qualify to become police officers. In the end, we refused to board the train and demanded our money back. Our names and passport details were recorded in little black police officer books. And we walked across to the bus station. The friendly bus driver helped us load up bikes and we were out of Golmud and on the road to Xining that evening. Who knows, maybe the police were responding to a tip off that this train was a suspected target for terrorists. But if not, I can think of any other reason why our bikes on board that train required the services of almost 20 heavily armed officers. Its good to get out of Golmud. I'm looking forward to getting to Xining.

ROAD BLOCK

2009-11-17T04:15:00.002-08:00

When the Chinese set up a road block, it will stop 99% of traffic.

To be sitting on this bus for the second time of this trip is terribly disappointing. The dream of cycling all the way to the Pacific Ocean has been broken again. Markus and I have talked about this already and we both agree, that the hardest part of long distance cycle touring is not the cycling. The physical act of pedalling around the world (and many long distance cycle tourers will hate me for saying this) is not really as difficult a task as most people would imagine it to be. But the most frustrating bit is dealing with the police, the complicated visas, the bureaucracy. If nobody needed a passport to visit different areas of a planet which we essentially all own and if national anthems and flags were irrelevant, visiting this beautiful planet of ours (rather than across individual countries of whoever) would be a much more enjoyable experience.Today had been a truly exhausting day with the police but most of the dealing I've had with them in China have been fine. Here, in Western China, there is still a very heavy and noticeable presence of them. I've been asked a good few times if I plan to go to Lhasa, capital of Tibet. Tibet is now completely closed to independent travel and any vague interest in the place raises alarm bells. 'Beijing'. I keep telling them Beijing; I want to see great big walls and terracotta warriors and panda bears....But Beijing is not where I'm going. It all comes down to my visa extension. If I get 30 days, I will presue Plan A of riding to Laos through Western China, just outside Tibet. If not we opt for Plan B. I don't know what Plan B will become, but it will never be as adventurous as Plan A. I'm on this bus to Xining, with the sole purpose of getting a 30 day visa extension. Everything revolves around this 30 day visa extension.

XINING

2009-11-17T04:15:00.001-08:00

We have been one week in Xining, the Chinese provincial capital of Qinghai. Our 30 day visas are out of date and due to the 8 days public holidays in celebration of the Chinese 60th anniversary, we've had to stay in this city. But Xining has been very, very good to us. We have stayed at the Lete hostel. Its made up of four penthouses on the 15 floor of a tower block. Real modern, cool views and even my 'impossible to please' musical tastes are been pleasantly surprised. In a cafe down the road, we met an American guy who has lived in China for 3 years. Hutch (although here he goes by his Chinese name, Haqi) is an extraordinary man. 69 years of age and its not only what he has already accomplished in life, but his massive plans for the future. He has worked in television in Hollywood for 15 years, being involved in 3 Olympic games and even got to hold the Olympic torch for the recent Chinese games. He has cycled all over China and age is never seen as any kind of barrier in following his dreams. He plans to go on a guided cycling tour through Tibet next year and then to independently cycle around the perimeter of Australia, then New Zealand and then to find some across the South Pacific Ocean to Chile in South America. From here he plans to venture north maybe as far as Ecuador. This is an epic trip by any standards, but when you consider the man's age and the fact that he plans to get around mainly by bicycle, it gives you an indication of his great strength of character. He now has a company here in Xining which helps to spot peoples' talents, motivate them and then direct them through the correct channels to help them in different medias. A very interesting guy to be around. Markus and I have called up to see him in his flat everyday that we have been here. His Chinese secretary, Amily, who speaks very good english, has brought us out to some of Haqis' favourite restaurants. Up till now, Markus and I had generally just pointed at other peoples dishes in busy restaurants, or else just pointed at random things on menus of Chinese script. It didn't really matter to us, as the food was always delicious and we were always hungry enough to eat anything put on front of us. But with Amily's help we got to choose the best of food, the chef's recommendations and we were able to request to level of hot spices used in the dish. There's nothing worse than been real hungry and trying to consume a dish made primarily of chillies.When the PSB (Public Security Bureau), who are responsible for visa extensions, finally opened yesterday after the 8 day public holidays, Amily joined us to make sure everything went smoothly. She showed the police a picture of Haji holding the Olympic torch in one hand and the Chinese flag in the other. She pointed at us, saying the Chinese equivalent of "These guys are his friends and they need a 30 day visa extension". The visa was approved on the spot. It was a Saturday and we collect our visa extension on Monday.

FRIENDS IN XINING

2009-11-17T04:04:00.001-08:00

One of the best things about travel is all the new and interesting people you get to meet. Spending a week in Xining allowed me to met loads of new people. To the very left is Haji. 69 years of age and a former Hollywood producer. His future seems deciated to travel and to helping the people in the regions he travels. In front of Haji is his secretary, Amily. who brought us to great restaurants and a Tibetan show. To Amily's left is Maria. This amazing woman with the red hat, seems to have endless energy. She runs a restaurant, is involved in schooling, has created board games and is hoping Haji's friend, Mel Gibson, will direct her second movie. Behind her is her Tibetan husband, Ben. Markus is to his right and a Norweigen hotel owner is his left. In front with the red jacket is Amily's boyfriend Xuton, who cycled 7500 KMs around China with Haji. To his left are two more Norweigen guys. Jan Terry with the sunglasses is well known in the cycle touring world. He has completed 70,000 KMs across 55 countries and has recently had a book published. Like me, he swears by his Koga bicycle.

More than anything, it was a great relief. A full 30 day visa extension means Plan A immediately goes into operation. Plan A is to head directly south and high up into the mountains. We'll never drop below 2000M and it looks like some of the passes we will face are close to 4000M. We know its going to be real tough. Its a little late in the year to be going into these regions and the snow could make things difficult. We have been warned by people who have travelled in the region that temperatures can drop down to -20C and road closures are common due to the snow. The real big danger is to be camped out for the night and to wake up surrounded by deep snow. We have so many passes to pedal that most are not even mentioned on our many maps of the region. At 5,450M oxyigen levels drop 50% to the oxygen levels available at sea level. We don't expect to exceed 5000M, but when I consider how hard the 2900M pass in Turkey was, then the 3100M pass in Kyrgyzstan where the bikes were on our shoulders. Then between Kyrgyzstan and China, the Taldyk pass hit 3600M just before Sary-Tash. Well, the next few weeks we will regularly hit 3600M and you can throw another 1000M on top of that.

After a full Irish breakfast (and toasted ham and yak cheese sandwiches and cinnamon cakes) at Maria's restaurant, Fusion, it was time to leave Xining and begin the long road to Shangri-La. Haji and Xuton joined us for the first 20 KMs out of town. We pedalled up to Kumbum monastery. One of the monks here was a good friend of Xuton and he brought us for a tour around. This 450 year old monastery is one of the great places of pilgrimage for the Yellow Hat sect of Tibetan Buddhism. For the first time we were really beginning to see the Tibetan people in full tradition dress. After lunch here, we said our farewells and Markus and I begun the long climb uphill. Haji was flying down to his other home in Lijiang next week and we hope to meet him here in about 3 weeks. Massive, dark snow peaked mountains loomed in the distance. And the scary thing was our maps revealed even greater mountains were hidden behind these. An hour before sunset, we stopped a man on the road to ask how far it was to the next hotel. It turned out a bed for the night wasn't far. The man pointed to his nearby home and invited us in for dinner and bed and breakfast. Neighbours came to visit and our maps were studied. The next morning a small fee was requested and then it was time to start pedalling up to the snow line. The most important thing about high altitude biking is to make it over the peaks in the mid afternoon when the temperatures are highest and to get back down to a low altitude before sunset. We reached 3280M (thats the highest altitude of GCR to date) by 2pm. Although we are not going into Tibet, we are heading into regions of Qinghai that are 97% Tibetan. Giant Tibetan prayer flags were positoned either side of the road and crossing this pass was like our introduction to the Tibetan world.Long before this journey began 11 months ago, I have always wanted to visit Tibet. Everything about it is fascinating. Just to pedal across "The rooftop of the world" and to look up at Everest. Its an area twice the size of France, yet with a population less than Ireland. Its turbulent recent history. How it protests against 'liberation' from the Chinese as it is forced into 'Motherland China'. My understanding is many Chinese see the Tibetans as an ungrateful bunch. China has given Tibet a better standard of living, schools, hospitals, roads and even a railway line to Beijing that cost US$3 billion. But their spiritual leader, the Dalai Lama, has called it "Cultural Genocide" as a people become second class citizens in their own land. To venture into Tibet and to travel where I wished and to see it with my own eyes and form my own opinions was always the master plan, but the Chinese have strictly prohibited independent travel in Tibet. If you want to go in here, you must join a government approved tour. For me, the next best option was to travel independently through the Tibetan regions of Qinghai, Sichuan and Yunnan. And so crossing this pass was the start of a possible 3 week ride through an area not Tibet, but very Tibetan. Let the adventure begin.

ACCORDING TO CHINESE LAW, YOU CANNOT STAY AT THIS HOTEL.

2009-11-17T04:00:00.000-08:00

As we free wheeled down the 1000M from this pass, our main preoccupation should have been the great scenery we were passing. But instead our main concern was the nasty buckle that was increasing in Markus's front wheel. The spokes were all securely intact, so the main fear was a cracked wheel rim. When we got into the town of Guide, some helpful children walked us to a newly opened central hotel. At €3 for a twin room, it wasn't even worth bargaining and Markus took off his tyre to give his front rim a closer look. It was bad news. A 2" hairline crack in the centre of the rim meant it was only a matter of time before the entire wheel falls apart. It was looking most likely that he was going to be on a bus back to Xining in the morning, in search of a new wheel rim.It was about 10PM when the police first knocked on our bedroom door. We generally try to stay in the same hotels as the Chinese do, as the 'tourist hotels' are generally twice the price and just as awful. With their broken english and sign language, we understood they wanted us out of this hotel. We just pretended not to understand. We kept saying 'Xie Xie' (Thank you) and refused to move from our beds. If its one thing you quickly learn about the Chinese police, its that they don't give up. It was about an hour later,when they returned with the full Red Army, including the local english speaking school teacher, who was ordered out of her own bed to do her duty for her country. I've heard lots of stories of these pigs knocking on hotel doors at all hours of the night and ordering travellers out of their beds and into government sponsored hotels. Markus and I certainly had no intention of moving from our beds without wasting as much police time as possible. And so we sat in our beds, holding tightly to our bed sheets, in our room full of police, the hotel manager, the local school teacher,and I don't know how many more police were waiting in the hall. INTERPRETER: According to Chinese law you cannot stay in this hotel. MARK: But its a nice hotel and I like it and its late and I'm tired......... INTERPRETER: But according to Chinese law you cannot stay in this hotel. This continued for a long time and so I decided to call their bluff. MARK: OK. I'm happy here. But if Chinese law wants us to move to a different hotel, then Chinese law pays for it and a taxi to it.
It took me completely by surprise when, after a few minutes of police discussion, they actually agreed to pay for the taxi and hotel. But it left us with no option but to move. We collected our €3 from hotel No.1 and took the 1 minute taxi ride to hotel No.2. I always thought the reason police wanted tourists in over priced tourist hotels was so they could extort a commission from such hotels. But after last nights ordeal, this couldn't be the case. Either way, I was too exhausted from a hard days cycle and a stressful evening arguing to consider why hotel No.2 took precedent over hotel No.1. Tomorrow I was getting a lie on and Markus was on the bus back to Xining in search of a new wheel rim. He would return tomorrow evening with a suitable new wheel rim and this bike ride would continue south.

POOR JACK

2009-11-17T03:59:00.000-08:00

In China, you can pick up a bottle of Jack Daniels for €20. Or you can pick up his imitation twin brother for €3.50. It tastes the same. The bottle is the same size and design. The labels are very similar. They are even positioned beside each other on the supermarket shelves. If you look closely you can almost see 'JACK' giving 'JIEKE' a dirty look.

WHAT MAKES A GREAT CYCLE ROUTE?
When cycle tourers talk of great bike rides across the world, the same places keep popping up;- The Karakorum Highway in Pakistan, 'The Road of Death' in Bolivia, the Pacific Highway south of Los Angeles, the Pamir Highway in Tajikistan, the 'Friendship Highway' from Tibet to Nepal, following the Danube through Europe. What does it take to create one of the world's great cycle routes. The list is long but not definite. One cyclist ideal tour could be another's nightmare. While the Friendship Highway is the world's biggest downhill, following the Danube to the Black Sea is a mainly flat riverside breeze. But for me,- to qualify to be one of the world's great cycle touring routes, you need a few key things. Firstly, you need downhills,-big downhills and with that you need massive climbs. Secondly, the landscape must be incredible and the more variety of scenery, the better. And thirdly, its such a treat, if the area is populated by and interested people.Global Cycle Ride is my sixth big bicycle ride which has included 37 countries totalling 32,500KMs. But the road I'm presently on is proving to be one of the greatest. Highway 101 from Xining through Guide towards Daflag has just been almost totally resurfaced with asphalt. It just opened last week and I reckon in time, it will become one of the world's great bike rides. Firstly it has those big downhills. Speeds in excess of 60KMH were reached and the front pannier bags scrapped against the tarmac as I leaned the bicycle sideways in the bends. And the climbs were hugh. Each day over the last 4 days, I've hit new GCR altitude records. It presently at 4382M.And the landscape we are passing through is just superb. The variation of terrain is incredible. We've had arid steppe with yak herders in full traditional Tibetan dress, massive sand dunes, fields of snow to the horizon, red rock canyons with vultures circling overhead, freewheeling along side cascading rivers, snow topped mountains filled with colour from Tibetan prayer flags and so much more. And the third thing on my personal ideal touring route is that the area is populated by an interested people.

TIBETAN PEOPLE

2009-11-17T03:55:00.000-08:00

The Tibetan people are probably the most interesting people I've come across. Every aspect of their culture makes them stand out from the crowd. Firstly, you notice the traditional dress. I've never been to a country where such a high percentage of the people remain in their traditional clothing. The clothes are often very colourful but what is very interesting is those sleeves that hang all the way to the floor. When I ask them, 'What is the long sleeves about?', I'm told; it keeps the hands warm when they are riding their motorbikes or they are great for swinging about the place when dancing. Traditional Tibetan dance is the complete opposite to traditional Irish. When Tibetans dance, they swing their arms around like crazy, and while Irish dancers often stare straight ahead and have a face like stone, one of the key things with Tibetan dance, is to keep smiling. Its contagious. I often thought the Dali Lamas' book, The Art of Happiness could be more fittingly described as 'The Art of Self-Deception', but these people seem so genuinely happy. Music, singing and dance seem such a part of these peoples lives. In restaurants we hear singing coming from the kitchen. In hotels, its not unusual to hear Tibetan staff singing confidently throughout the hotel. On the road, long sleeve Tibetan boys roll be on their motorbikes with big smiles and loud music blarring from their speakers. Chart music here display mountains, yaks, rivers, wildlife and traditional Tibetan costumes as commonly as chart music videos in Ireland show African-Americans with big jewellery driving fancy rented cars. The Tibetans know they are popular around the world and so are very welcoming to tourists. Most people pity and sympathise their struggle against the take over of their country from the stronger China, in the same way as most people would feel towards Ireland's history and its conflict with the more powerful nation of Britian. They have the exiled, Nobel prize winning leader of the Dali Lama on their side. This hugly respected leader is the pride and joy of the people as he continues to try to resolve their struggle through peaceful means. Some of the areas I visited were up to 97% Tibetan and the people I visited were some of the most colourful friendly and welcoming people I have ever met.

WOLVES

2009-11-17T03:50:00.000-08:00

Ye may be able to make out the wolf in the centre of the picture above. (I'll never get a job as a photogapher with National Geographic)
"One of the best ways to spot wolves is to be completely surrounded by them"
Quote of the day goes to Markus.
What an extraordinary day. After leaving our plush-plush €14 a room hotel (Its reception area may have had a chandelier that spanned 3 floors, but our bathroom has sporadic running water), we continued south east out of Darlac. Today we were invited into a beautifully designed marquees for a wedding ceremony, we saw 2 vultures fight over a small animal carcass, Markus helped a monk repair a puncture on his motorbike while the monks' pet deer grazed nearby. When the puncture was fixed the monk tied the deer under his garments and continued down the road on his motorbike. Best of all, today we saw 5 wolves (including one wolf cub) a fox and 2 more deer. Getting within 200M of a wolf in its natural environment was truly an amazing experience. The area was so full of wildlife that we decided to camp up for the night. And now as I write this, I can hear the wolves howling in the distance.

ROGER RABBIT

2009-11-17T03:45:00.001-08:00

Throughout the high altitude regions of Tibet and the surrounding Tibetan provinces of Sichuan, Qinghai and Yunnan, disposing of the dead can prove to be a problem. The ground is often frozen solid so digging graves is out. These regions are often above the tree line, so there's no firewood, so cremation is not an option. The solution is called Tianzang (Sky Burial). This is where the corpse is laid out in the open and chopped up and the sight of flesh draWs in the vultures. A feeding frenzy ensues and Tibetans see the ceremony as a way of taking the corpse to the heavens. Sky burials are generally held for those of a higher cast. Those of a lower cast are generally just thrown down gorges. For this reason Tibetans don't eat fish (or vultures, for that matter). It would be a shocking, yet fascinating experience to witness a Sky Burial, but needless to say, its very rare for a traveller to be invited to such a ceremony. And to go without an invitation would not be an option for us.And so, when I came around a bend to find a large, still warm, piece of road kill, Markus and I decided to bring along the recently deceased 'Roger' (pictured above) as food for the vultures. For 2 days solid we scanned the skies looking for vultures. We must have spotted close to 50 vultures in the proceeding week. These hugh birds generally congregate in large open barren areas as they rely on sight rather than smell to locate their prey. But as we dropped altitude, we entered a huge forested region. This was not going to be the hunting ground of the vulture and as Roger began to gain the attention of the large dogs of the region, we had to ultimately accept that he was of a lower cast. We threw him down a gorge. He sleeps with the fishes.

Its been two days of continual downhill. Yesterday before leaving the town of Banma, we visited a huge marque full of monks and watched a lively debate. We hadn't a clue what they were talking about but it seemed as much about clapping hands and movement as discussion. We continued for another day of downhll. We were following a river which would eventually take us out of the Quinghai provence and into the Sichuan provence.The scenery is beyond description. The whole journey from Xining to here (800KMs or so) has been extraordinary. But it just kept getting better. Little or no tourists must have come this way. When we enter a village, everyone stops and stares. When we go into a restaurant, we often fill the place with onlookers. Our bikes, our clothes, our language and everything else fascinates people. It can be all quite daunting, but when you make eye contact, its all smiles.The river (I don't know its name) must be of massive spiritual important to the Tibetan Buddhists. I've never seen so many monasteries, so many monks, so many prayer flags. We even saw pilgrims (video below). They would walk 3 steps, then lay down on their stomachs, completely stretched out, bow to the ground, get back up, walk 3 steps and continue the process. I don't know where they came from, but chances are they are going to Lhasa. Its about 1000KMs. I'll probably be back in Ireland before they reach Lhasa.

HIS HOLINESS, THE DALI LAMA

2009-11-17T03:41:00.001-08:00

I have never come across any religious leader who has managed to capture the support of the youth in his country like the way the Dali Lama has. It amazes me when see fashionably dressed young guys with a time consuming hair style and they are not just talking about the Dali Lama, but "His Holiness, the Dali Lama". I've seen boy racers with souped-up Suzuki's, with all the usual junk you see stuck on the Honda Civics at home. Only here they have prayer beads hanging from the interior mirror and pictures of the Dali Lama on the car. Can you imagine the boy racers meeting up in the Maxol in Naas with rosary beads hanging from the mirrors and photos of John Paul II stuck to the window. I think not. Sadly, the police deleted my photos of the souped up Suzuki's with the Dali Lama during one of their random camera checks. You can delete the photos and deny his existence, boys, but the whole world is well aware of this great leader's efforts to solve Han Chinese occupation through peaceful means.

After 17 days on the road from Xining, we finally made it to the town of Luhuo on the northern Tibetan highway (Road 317) and the best thing about Luhuo was we found a hotel with a hot shower. It was badly needed and then it took 3 full days on a rocky dirt track to make it from Luhuo on the northern Tibetan highway to Yajiang on the southern Tibetan highway. The scenery may have been spectacular as we pedalled alongside a fast flowing river down through a gorge, but this 'road' was more suited to a mountain bike with full suspension, not a fully loaded touring bike. My poor Koga bicycle. She truely is in pain.Next morning we left the town of Yajiang and reduced (rather than solved) the squeaking and grinding throughout my bike. It was a utter brute of a day. 33KMs in mostly first gear; a 1900M altitude gain. Thats about 100M short of climbing Ireland's highest mountain (Carrantoohill) from sea level to summit twice. Its a race to reach Shangri-La or Lijiang. But with one day off in the last 3 weeks, both Markus and I are close to exhaustion. We hope to hit the town of Litang tomorrow evening and I've heard this town does a damn good yak steak. I'm looking forward to a night off the noodles.

LITANG

2009-11-17T03:39:00.001-08:00

A quick an easy solution to the problem of frozen gear cables.

According to my guidebook, Litang is the 'Wild west' of China. But after some of the places we have visited over the last 3 weeks, Litang was welcomed as a cosmopolitan centre. Yes, the locals were dressed in traditional dress. Yaks were herded down the main street. Long-haired Tibetan boys ride their motorbikes around town with traditional music blaring from their speakers. But here in Litang we found the first english menu in 3 weeks. Other Europeans were to be met in our hotel common room and interesting conversations were had about destinations visited and future routes chosen. China's 'Wild west' even had wifi, so it was time to catch up on emails and long overdue skype calls were made. Some Israelis' pointed us towards the friendly Mr Zheng's restaurant. After his legendary yak steak, it was time for beers and the maps were spiralled open as we reviewed our progress through China over the last 2 months. The simple fact of the matter is China is just too big. As I stated before, China is 130 times the size of Ireland and we are trying to cross it diagonally from north-west to south-east. We've already extended our visa to the 30 day max and another full 30 day extension is possible but unlikely. We have 4 days left on our visas, we're physically exhausted and its over 1000KMs to the nearest land border exit. VISAS, Visas, visas- Its been the thorn in my side since leaving Europe. 16,700KMs cycled and for the third time of the trip, I need to tie the bike on to the roof of a bus. To cycle China the route I wanted to cycle, I would have needed 4 months to do in comfort. The fine for being caught with an expired visa is €50 per day. Once again, its so disappointing, but Markus and I have resigned ourselves to the fact that tomorrow we need to get on a 600KM bus journey to Shangri-La.

2009-11-17T03:38:00.000-08:00

Throughout the Tibetan regions of China, we have gotten to experience so much. Everyday the craziest things happened. There was just too much to document it all in this blog. But looking back now, so many bizarre moments pop into my head. There was the drunken police chief who insisted Markus was sober enough to drive his patrol jeep. Markus was numerous times over any drink driving limit, so the chief agreed to do the steering. The Buddhist monk who went with his seven monk friends to the 2008 Lhasa demonstrations. They were all arrested but one of them never returned. He hasn't been seen or heard of since. The family who invited us into their home to taste their traditional dish, Tsampa (a simple food made of barley flour and water). It tasted fine even though it was the same hands used to create our lunch as create the fire made entirely of dried yak shit. But during my stay here I got to witness, what I could only describe as the most shocking scene of my life. I was invited to a Sky Burial.

SKY BURIAL

2009-11-17T03:22:00.002-08:00

SKY BURIAL: The chopping up of a human corpse and feeding it to vultures.
As we were leaving Litang, the hotel manager told us that a Lama was coming to the town this morning to perform a funeral ceremony on 3 corpses ready for sky burial. The families were welcoming foreign guests but the rules were simple. "Strictly no photos during the cutting up of the corpses. Once the vultures start feeding on the bodies, then photos are welcome", as the belief is that the dead are beginning their journey to the heavens.It was without doubt, the most gruesome scene of my life. The dead included an old woman, a middle-aged man, a 5 year old child and there were about 60 vultures either circling the sky or patiently sitting on the nearby hill top. The ceremony was over in literally moments and then the 'cutter' stepped forward, dressed like a butcher, with a long apron, an axe and a large knife. The giant vultures landed and came in close. The sound of their 5ft wing span cutting the air as the cutter divided up the body into smaller chunks. His work was done after about 10 minutes. He stepped away and a feeding frenzy began involving about 30 birds on one body. The vultures fought amongst themselves for a share. Their heads soaked in blood, they fought "tug-of-war" style with lumps of skin. Within 10 minutes all that remained was a reddened skeleton and feathers. The cutter stepped forward again, and using the back of his axe against a rock, he broke down the bones to dust and mixed it with barley. Once this was complete, the birds stepped in again and completed the ritual.To chop up a human body and feed it to wild animals goes against all that I would consider moral. But its just a case of perspective. To these people its seen as a practical solution within the constraints of their surroundings. Its seen as a generous offering in the natural environment in which they feel so much a part of. Rather than seeing a naked corpse, cut up and devoured by giant, ugly (?) birds, they see a necessary process in the delivering their dead to heaven. Ultimately we feed our dead to worms.It was, of course, the strangest funeral I have ever attended. And strange for many reasons. Afterwards we met many of the mourners. They were full of smiles and very welcoming. They viewed my photos and using sign language, I explained that I was from Ireland and that we buried or burned our dead. I pointed to the sky above and explained that their friend was on the way to Heaven. They seemed to enjoy our simply sign language discussion and I was even offered the axe handle to help the cutter grind up the bones. I declined and Markus and I made our way towards the bus station.

(Here is a vid I came across on youtube that reminded me of the sky burial I witnessed www.youtube.com/watch?v=u8DgiROpEPM But this is not the actual funeral I attended. We were asked not to take any photos till the vultures had landed started feeding on the bodies. And remember, I described this as "the most gruesome scene of my life". Are you sure you want to view this?)

2009-11-17T03:22:00.001-08:00

Generally speaking, the Chinese food has been the consistently best food of the trip. But be warned, when you order the full chicken dish, you get the full chicken dish.

Leaving the town of Litang behind, we divided the 16 hour bus journey to Shangri-La out over 2 days. When you consider the average speed was 25KM/hr, it gives you an indication of the quality of the roads. But, in arriving in Shangri-La we were finally stepping away from the Tibetan world, that had so warmly welcomed us and fascinated us over the last month. I felt Shangri-La was more 'Tibetan for tourists' rather than 'Tibetan for real'. There was no yaks breaking red lights on the main street of this town. Instead it proved to be the wonderful destination we had so long craved. All menus were in english. Cutlery replaced chopsticks and choices included steak, pizza, fish, french fries, Mexican, curries and for desert there was chocolate, so much chocolate.

CHOCOLATE LUNCH

2009-11-17T03:18:00.000-08:00

Mark: I'll go for the chocolate coffee and the pancake with chocolate.Markus: I'll have the chocolate cake with a large scoop of chocolate ice cream.Mark: And if you find anything else in the kitchen made of chocolate, just bring it out please.

CRAZY SIGNS IN CHINA

2009-11-17T03:16:00.000-08:00

We had made it to Shangri-La in the Yunnan provence with one day left on our visa. And when we walked into the PSB (Public Security Beurea) requesting another extension, we had expected a one week (or 2 week max) extension. It came as a complete surprise when the lovely police lady behind the counter gave us another full 30 day extension. She advised us that this was the last time and we must leave the country before it expires. I should be over the moon. Another 30 days is plenty of time to pedal down to the south east Asian countries. Another 30 days means that this trip can continue in the way in which it was originally planned. It means this journey should continue as a bicycle trip . But the thing is I've got lazy, or at least, I'm just so, so exhausted. We've covered 3,200KMs in China - crossing the world's second largest sand desert and rising to the Himalayan frontier. The thing is Markus and I have spent the last 2 weeks trying to come up with ideas since we only expected a final one week visa extension. I've seen all I want to see in China and now the excitement lies in getting to South East Asia. I'm happy giving my tired cycling legs a rest and instead I've decided to take a bus south. But before we go, we want to see our great friend Haji again.You may remember I mentioned meeting the American cyclist Haji before. He's 69 years of age and has more energy that most people half his age. He proudly held the torch for the Chinese olympics last year and he plans to cycle around Australia and South America next year. We stayed 3 days in Litiang (where Haji now lives) and once again, he was introducing us to all his friends and to all the best restaurants in town. Haji is the only person I've met who has completed the 2,200KM bike ride from Xining to Litiang and he lost 5 kilos during this 38 day cycle. Markus and I managed 1,600KMs before taking a bus after 21 days. Photos and stories were exchanged. The bikes got a service and we took a night bus down to the provincial capital of Kumning.

THE ADVENTURE GOES DOWN STREAM

2009-11-17T03:14:00.000-08:00

Trying to keep up the exciting momentum of the time in China could prove to be difficult. I want adventure but my legs are too tired to pedal. Markus and I have tired to put a plan together based on adventure and something new. It seems a popular trip for people is to take passenger ferries and tour boats from the Golden Triangle down the Mekong river. The Golden Triangle is the point where Myanmar, Thailand and Laos meet. And although we have little interest in taking tour boats, the reality is, if tour boats can get down the river, why cant we buy our own boat and take it down the river. The internet is hugely censored in China and I couldn't find any blogs of anyone attempted to try this. I had my brother, Paul, check if he could find anything about attempts to buy a boat and take it down this river. But nothing could be found, even on Irelands' uncensored blogs. And now I'm in Thailand and I can't find anything about it either.But, if boats can get down it, then, in theory, we can too. Almost everything in your home has a 'Made in China' sticker on it and so the cheapest place to buy such stuff, is in China. Markus and I decided to go shopping in the city of Kumning for a 4 person zodiac boat - The inflatable kind that is used in white-water rafting. We found the perfect size boat, with life jackets, oars, pump and everything else you could need for €340. It should easily be able to take the weight of us, the 2 bikes and all our gear. Its a pretty crazy thing to have little or no rafting experience and attempt to take a boat down the 16th largest river in the world. But I've been to South East Asia a few times and what I remember of the Mekong is just a huge brown river. Ultimately, I think we are able for this and so we bought the boat. Now the problem was getting it to water. We bought a hand trolley to transport the inflatable zodiac boat and took it (and everything else we have) to the bus station. Loaded everything onto the bus and got an overnight sleeper to Jinghong. The Mekong acts as the border between Myanmar and China and we knew we would never be able to take the boat through this heavily policed region. But we decided to take a seven hour boat tour down the Mekong out of China and into Thailand. Once again, the Chinese border police were in usual paranoid form. All 45 people trying to board the boat to Thailand were part a tour group, except the two smelly ones with the bicycles and the 48 kilo box containing an inflatable boat. Border officials refused to accept the photo of Markus in his passport was really him. I must admit it doesn't really look like him as he has shaved off his dreadlocks since having his passport photo taken. But why it took so many police (about 10) over an hour to check all our stuff is beyond me. The dear old ladies sat on the bus and waited patienceently for Chinese law to do its job. "First, they wouldn't let us in the country, now they don't want us to leave" was mentioned well within their hearing range. But we were in no hurry and it didn't worry us what time we got to Thailand. We were getting out of China and into wonderful Thailand. Eventually we got out of there and joined the dear old ladies on the boat down the Mekong. I must admit, I got a bit of a shock when I first the river. This is not going to be a leisurely cruise down the Shannon kinda trip. This thing flows fast. But during the seven hour boat trip down to Thailand, we watched the river carefully and we both agree, it is very achieveable. Thai immigration welcomed us with smiles and an entry stamp in our passport. Most European countries don't even need a visa for this great country. We checked into a guesthouse beside the Mekong. We are having a busy day sorting everything out and updating this blog. Tomorrow, we plan to set sail from just outside the Golden Triangle town of Chan Saen to where ever the river takes us.

DAY 288 - STAGE 3 GLOBAL CYCLE RIDE

2009-09-04T00:29:00.001-07:00

I'm beginning to think the best parts of Global Cycle Ride are the parts where I'm not cycling. I've just returned from Bangkok, Thailand to Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan after spending the last 6 weeks on a holiday away from the bicycle. It was an incredible time. The first 4 weeks were spent with my dad, Jim. It was 'boot to the headlight' all the way. We toured around Laos, visiting Buddist temples and caves and stayed in a wonderful river side hut on the edge of a jungle. The highlight of Vietnam would have been a cruise through Halong bay in a beautiful old style junk boat and then in Cambodia we visited a mass grave memorial site of the Polpot regime, then a few days spent at possibly the world's greatest archaelogical site of Angkor Wat. We also got to visit the family of a Cambodian friend of mine. Although this family is desparately poor, they gave us a great welcome. Relatives, friends and neighbours visited Kimseng's home to witness the unusual arrival of foreign guests to this poor village. We, in turn, visited the neighbours' homes. In all cases it was warm welcomes, but I was surprised how openly the people wished to talk about the Polpot regime and the terror it had brought to their lives. A neighbour described how he climbed out of a mass grave "half-dead", while his 10 year old son stared at the floor and listened. Cambodia is certainly the poorest country I've ever visited and its a hard one to figure out. Everyone Cambodian I met, sings praise for the government, who have been in power for almost 30 years, even though not one person has been found guilty of any wrong doing during the Polpot regime. Its almost no surprise to see the country promotes itself as; "Cambodia-Kingdom of Wonder". In south east Asia, a traveller can find a basic but comfortable hotel for under US$10 a night. This generally worked fine for us, but once we unknowingly checked into a hotel between two nightclubs. Crap music played till 5am and dad slept in the quietest part of the room;- The bathroom.
Genevieve certainly had no intention of staying at such accommodations after flying half way across the globe. The only stars that I am used to are the ones that fill the sky above my tent, but in Thailand's islands of Koh Samui and Koh Phanghan, our resorts had plenty of stars after their names. We had a beach side villa with private pool. There was the cliff top appartment with balcony and spectacular views across the sea. Infinity pools. I didn't even know what these were till I jumped in one. Our candle lit dinner on the beach was a far cry from my noodle soup in the tent. A cruise through a marine national park for some kayaking. And a private boat hire to go snorkling off some remote islands. Apart from when we rented a 4 wheel drive to do some off-roading through the centre of Samui, almost all our time was spent on, in or near the water.
It has been a great 6 week break from cycling. The best of company, continually happy moments, great and interesting conversations in exciting and exotic locatons. But the holiday is over and its back to work (!?!). I'm back in Kyrgyzstan in Central Asia. I took a 500KM shared taxi from Bishkek back to Osh (with the bike on the roof). And its time to continue this big bike ride around the world. And to continue it from where I left off. Although I have two countries left to cross, China and USA, I reckon I'm approximately half way around the globe. I'm about 400KMs from the Chinese border and I must admit, crossing the next one is a bit of a daunting task. China is 130 times the size of Ireland. Its going to be a big one and a tough one. we've got big mountains coming up and the winter is on its way. But first theres the Taklamakan desert to cross (The world's longest road through a sand desert). Its all ahead of me and I'll keep ye posted. But for the moment, its time to get back in the saddle and pedal to the Chinese border to begin stage 3 of Global Cycle Ride.
P.S. Just to let ye know, it could be a long time before I get to update this blog. I've heard blogspot.com is banned in China

LEAVING UZBEKISTAN

2009-07-17T00:36:00.000-07:00

Its been a while since I've got a chance to update the blog, but the following passages are of some of the craziest times since starting the tour..... So to begin where I left off. As soon as I had the Kyrgyzstan visa pasted into my passport, I was pedalling fast and hard out of Tashkent, the capital of Uzbekistan and towards the Kyrgyzstan border near Osh. My Uzbek visa finishes on the 26-6-09 and its a 400KM uphill run to the border. All things considered, we're tight on time but we're doing ok. The heat is crazy in Tashkent but it would be worst in Samarkand and Bukhara. Khiva would be just unbearable now. And as for the Karakum desert, surely even the camels must be discussing the pros and cons of migration.

LOOKING BACK OVER UZBEKISTAN

2009-07-17T00:04:00.000-07:00

Today I got a Uzbek exit stamp in my passport and I'm sitting in a cafe in Osh, Kyrgyzstan. I had a 30 day visa for Uzbekistan and it took the full 30 days to cross it at a lively but comfortable pace. Its a challenging country to cycle across but I imagine, it would be a interesting one to do a designated tour of. The architecture throughout the cities of Samarkand, Bukhara and Khiva are just incredible. The desert ships at Moynaq are unreal. Travelling through the nothingness on the edge of the Kyzylkum desert is surreal. And meeting the friendly locals in the markets is just an afternoon full of laughter. Looking back over the last month in Uzbekistan has been a fascinating, exciting and difficult adventure.Its a country I'm thankful I wasn't born into. Its harvest season in the Fergana valley and it seems you are not long walking before you are carrying something. And when you get too old and tired to walk, you can always direct a donkey and cart to the fields. But Ireland 50 years ago was probably a similar picture. I was really surprised by the levels of poverty I saw here. I can't even imagine the state of desperation someone must be in, to sweep the grain off the road as it falls off the passing trucks. Sweeping their breakfast up off the street in full view of their whole village to witness.Its very ironic how the country is a complete police state and yet I was offered heroin about 10 times during my months' stay here. Especially along the desert road between Nukus and Bukhara. I can only guess that the desert heat and my poor diet had me mistaken for a junkie in need of a fix. Every single day I had dealing with the police. I'd honestly stay, I've seen as many police in Uzbekistan in the last 30 days as I've seen in Ireland in the last 30 years. They are mostly traffic police and the cycle tourist is the perfect fodder to feed their amusement and boredom. Once a passing policeman even stopped to help me repair a puncture but generally its just friendly curiosity. I do my best not to look wasted on opium (or the desert heat/poor diet equivalent). But occasionally you met an awkward cop who has to telephone someone to check if my visa is valid, or he wants to see what photos I've taken, to ensure there is no sensitive material photographed. But that said, no officer ever attempted to extort a bribe from me. Although one full time policeman/part time pimp pitied my solo venture and suggested he could arrange for a "special lady friend" to visit my hotel later if I wished. Obviously in a complete police state, "fly-tenting" is illegal. Tourists are supposed to stay at designated tourist hotels instead of camping in the wilds. You must register with the hotel and each morning they will give you a registration slip. When you finally leave the country, the police may wish to check your registration slips. I was in the country 30 days but I was missing 27 slips. I had jumped in a canal earlier in the week and that morning I put on my cleanest (dirty) clothes, but I still anticipated the "Where have you been sleeping?" question. The border guard spoke perfect english. I just pretended not to understand him.Border guard:'Where did you sleep last night?'Wasted tourist:' Oh tonight I'll probably sleep in Osh'.But he kept questioning. A search of my bags revealed my tent, sleeping bag and stove. He wanted answers. I was afraid this might happen. But this is how I got out of the situation and it may be of interest to the cycle tourers coming behind me. My advice is, when you are filling out the declaration form only disclose that you have a few dollars and hide the rest well. I only found 1 working ATM in Uzbekistan and considering thats 400KMs away in Tashkent, the largest the police can fine you is the figure you disclose on your declaration form. I told the police a medical student invited me to his home for food and a spare bed and so he could practice his english with me. I continued talking about the great generosity of the Uzbek people and their helpfulness and the amazing architecture and the beautiful landscapes...etc etc. They are less likely to fine someone who is leaving the country and full of praise for Uzbekistan. And besides he is supposedly only got US$20 in his pocket. It worked for me but I've heard of tourists facing fines of hundreds of dollars upon leaving UzbekistanIf you are coming to Uzbekistan, make sure you pack a lunch. I didn't expect to get this far without an occasional dose of food poisoning, but its so frustrating when you see markets packed full of the finest fruits and tastiest vegetables and yet the road houses outside of the main cities serve such fatty, oily and greasy slop. I've ordered even the simplest dishes, such as soup, and I've gotten, what is best described as a bowl full of boiling oil with lumps of fat. And the crazy thing is you could be sitting at a table in the shade, under a tree full of the tastiest apricots. But even the top class hotels seem to have no understanding of food hygiene. In Tashkent, I was sitting under a tree in the car park of a 4 star hotel, using their unsecured wi-fi connection. A delivery guy arrives and takes a load of meat from the booth of his car and wheels it into the the kitchen. Correct me if I'm wrong, but Ladas don't have a refrigerated boot, do they? I have a very strong stomach and have never got food poisoning before, but everyday in Uzbekistan has been testing on my system. Thankfully, I got my stove working again and I enjoy spending my evenings preparing the food I buy from the markets.And so by leaving Uzbekistan, we have pretty much completed stage 2 of GCR. I'm only 240KMs west of the Chinese border but I need a break from the bike. (We are starting to argue and its not good for the overall morale of the trip). Its been 6000KMs since Istanbul and I've lost over a stone in weight that I need to gain before I head into the deserts of Western China. The biggest desert of the global circuit is coming up,- The Taklamakan desert, which is Chinese for 'He who enters, does not leave'. And so the plan is to spend the next 2 months getting fat and lazy. Its time to take a holiday from this 'holiday(?)' and return to Osh after the 2 months and continue pedaling across China to the Pacific Ocean.My dad, Jim, recently retired from work and we are keen to do a 3 week tour Thailand, Laos, Vietnam and Cambodia. And my girlfriend, Genevieve, has an eye on a amazing island in south Thailand, which is full of white beaches and waterfalls. It should be two perfect weeks. So on the 16/7/09 I plan to fly from Bishkek, capital of Kyrgyzstan to Bangkok, capital of Thailand. I return to Bishkek on the 1/9/09 with, hopefully, a Chinese visa in my passport and an extra layer of fat under my belt. I plan to continue cycling east from where I left off. By mid September the Taklamakan will start to cool down, which should make the ride around it (or possibly through it) more possible. I've staying a cheap comfortable central hotel in Osh. (Hotel Alay) and I'm presently happy just sitting in the shade, drinking tea and watching the world go by. I've just over 2 weeks to kill in Kyrgyzstan and I'm just weighting up my options. Kyrgyzstan offers some of the best mountain scenery in the world, but the first thing I need is rest and then I'll decide what direction to take.........Stage 2 complete. I think I'll order more tea.

LADA-KING OF THE ROAD

2009-07-16T23:46:00.001-07:00

The photos above are just the briefest snap-shot of the modern day 'silk road camel'. They are an amazing vehicle and are used by everyone from boy-racers to bulk hauliers. A Lada that breaks down just once a month could be described as "being in perfect condition". They are fed the dirtiest of fuel, transporting ridiculously heavy loads across deplorable roads and all at break neck speed. I've seen Ladas packed full of everything from melons to goats. It seems as long as the car horn is working the car is deemed road worthy. Like most of the locals from this part of the world, I too, have been requested to help out when a Lada needed a push start. They are a surprisingly light vehicle and very easy to push. Is it possible that the engineers at Lada took this fact into consideration and designed an 'easy-to-push-car'.

KYRGYZSTAN

2009-07-16T23:37:00.001-07:00

The single greatest thing about getting into Kyrgyzstan is that the pressure is now off. The pressure of having to make borders before visas ran out is no longer my daily headache. The food is a better, but could it have gotten any worse. The heat is less intense and there is also the option to venture into the cooler mountains. And it is so much easier to manage your finances here. In Uzbekistan, I found only 1 ATM working in the whole country. In Turkmenistan, I found only 1 bank that would give me cash advances on my credit card. And in Iran, visa, mastercard, cirrus and maestro are not accepted throughout the whole country. But here in Osh, there are 3 working ATMs within walking distance of my hotel. And they give out local currency, so there is no need to go looking for the black market money changers. In Uzbekistan, these guys give a 25% better rate than the official bank rate, but you really have to have your wits about you, or you'll get a pocket full of change for your 100 dollar bill.Osh is Kyrgyzstan's second largest city after the capital Bishkek. I've found a few other tourists in town and from emails I received there are a few friends on the way. Its kind of a cross roads on the silk road route. Some are heading north to Lake Issyk-Kul and the Tien Shan mountains, others are going east into China, while others plan to go south on the Karakoram highway to Pakistan. I'm presently happy enough going down to the park, or having a stroll through the markets or wandering down to see the massive statue of Lenin. I'll get itchy feet to start moving again soon. But for the first time in a long time, I'm happy just chilling about.

ITCHY FEET SYNDROME

2009-07-16T23:35:00.000-07:00

I had a feeling that "itchy feet syndrome" was about to return soon. I had wanted this rest so badly, but now after 5 days of drinking tea in the shade, I want to get back on the bike. What Uzbekistan has in architecture, Kyrgyzstan has in mountains and although I've enjoyed my time resting in Osh, you don't come to Kyrgyzstan to visit its cities. I've met some very interesting cyclists in this town. There was Jurgen from Germany, who has spent the last 2 years riding across Europe, Africa and Asia. His favourite country was Iran but he has been robbed twice in the last week and understandly, he feels its time to fly home from his epic adventure. He'll be home for the weekend. There is Kyle from America who's just rode 7000KMs across China. His stories of China are enough to make me consider following Jurgen's path and going home for the weekend. And then there is Markus from Austria. He rode his bike from home to here and had spent the last week living with some goat herders in the mountains. This time last week, I was tired of cycling. And I had considered putting my bike into storage and travelling Kyrgyzstan by public transport, but with recharged batteries, I've decided to join Markus on the 650KM ride north through the mountains to Bishkek. This is going to be a challenging cycle. We are presently at an altitude of 950M, but theres two passes we need to cross to get to Bishkek and both are over 3000M. The highest passes I've crossed since starting the trip have been about 2900M in eastern Turkey. Its time to select a low gear and go back up to the snow line.

LEAVING OSH

2009-07-16T23:28:00.000-07:00

Traffic was heavy but the road was flat as Markus and I pedalled out of Osh on the road north to Bishkek. Spirits were high for the adventure ahead. We pedalled at a similar speed so it made touring together quiet easy. We got about 100KMs pedalled and camped up by a wheat field. The next day we continued along the main road, till we saw a sign for Alsanabob. Markus and I had both heard of this mountain side village at an altitude of 1600M and we went into a cafe for some tea and discussed whether it would be worth taking this difficult but potentially rewarding detour. After a few pots of tea we decided to climb up to this village which is home to the world's largest walnut groves. Although the village is quite pretty, it was the weekend and was packed full of Kyrgyz day trippers and thumping music. Our plans of pitching our tents in the walnut groves ended with the arrival of a massive downpour and so instead we found a room in a children's recreation centre.The rain didn't stop till 9am the next morning. Now we started talking about going further into the mountains. From our maps we could see there was a rough road up to the town of Kyzyl-Unkur, but after that, it seemed to be just tracks that did not connect and the gradient of the altitude increase was very steep. But it wasn't just the maps that would indicate the road,(or lack of) ahead. At this stage we were so close we could stare up into the mountain range. The main problem was there was a 50KM stretch with little or no tracks through the mountain range. And these mountains had summits in the mid 3000M range. The idea of attempting to take two bicycles loaded full of stuff up and over this mountain range seemed completely impossible. The locals told us it was impossible. I don't know which worried me more; the locals who laughed at us, the locals who looked genuinely worried, or the massive mountains that loomed large in front of us. We were both confident it would be possible, but the worrying part was the level of difficultly it would take to make it possible. The road ended and the track begun. Then the track got narrower. We camped up by a river and had a right sized camp fire. A cold wind blew down from the mountains into our valley. Tomorrow was going to be tough.

WAY OFF THE BEATEN TRACK

2009-07-16T23:06:00.001-07:00

The scenery was getting spectacular now as we pedalled slowly into the hillside. We were rolling through indigenous areas where little has changed through the generations. People still lived in yurts and these large circular tents could be moved from valley to valley as the family searched for better grassland for their animals. The trail now disappeared and we were now down to just a horse path. An old lady pointed up at three rocks sticking up from the pass and signalled it was here we should aim for. We came to a massive empty plain, where a glacier probably melted a few millennia before. We were still about a 1000M below the pass and it was already getting very difficult. We were invited into a yurt camp and for the first time, the locals considered our task to be possible. People came from the surrounding yurts to witness the arrival of the 2 'lost' tourists looking to get to Bishkek. A sheep had been slaughtered that morning and we watched as they cooked it. We got a big bowl of mutton soup (head and all). Markus found the cheek a little chewy but the lips were surprisingly meaty. A local boy was summoned to bring a donkey. It was decided that the best way to get to the top of the pass was to put our bags on the donkey and we should manage our own bikes. Everyone was happy that a plan had been arranged and so a bottle of vodka was opened to toast our departure. At this altitude, sheep head soup and a large measure of pure vodka would not be the recommended nutrients for a safe passage through this mountain range, but the general encouragement, helpfulness and welcomes from the people was incredible. It was looking like we may even make the top of the pass before the day was out. But of course, it was never going to run that smoothly. We got off to a great start. We were barely able to keep up with the fully loaded donkey. The young boy sat up on the animal and whipped it frantically to get it into top gear. Animals have a tough life out here. It reminded me of a time in Turkmenistan, I once saw a guy punch a donkey in the face. After an hour of this needlessly fast pace, the animal was truly exhausted. A older passing sheppard was fearful the donkey would get a heart attack and ordered the boy to get off the animal and take it back down the mountain to rest. Using sign language, he seemed to be signalling that it was pointless to go the top, as the other side was just full of cliffs and glaciers, so we would never get down it anyway. The air starts to get thin at our present altitude of 2500M and now we had our bags loaded back up on our bikes and were pushing with everything we had. And that large shot of vodka wasn't helping. Some areas were so steep, the 2 of us would push one bike at a time. Each kilometre was taking over an hour now. But we were so far into the mountain that we might as well continue as go back. About 2 hours before sunset, 2 guys arrived up on a horse. Obviously, the word was out down in the valley, that the donkey couldn't take our stuff and that we were managing on our own. We had plenty of food, but these guys brought up food and directed us towards a yurt. These 2 guys were just fantastic. They seemed to be fascinated by everything we did. They watched us put up our tents and were amazed at all the stuff we could carry on our bikes. The way the sleeping bag could be packed into such a small bag, the way the mattress could be blown up. The tiny, but powerful stove. And we had plenty of food and suitable clothing for the journey over the pass. Conversation was based around sign language and basic Russian. It was a great evening and the 2 guys offered to take our bags on the horse, and to guide us to the top of the pass in the morning. It was all coming together nicely.

UP AND OVER THE PASS

2009-07-16T22:50:00.001-07:00

We rose at sunrise but the day got off to a bad start. There was no sign off the horse. Apparently it has a habit of breaking free and fighting with the other horses in the valley. At least we would have a feisty animal (when we find it). Ali was particularly impressed with our breakfast. Whatever we gave him to eat, he was very interested in where it was from. We had tea from Uzbekistan, nutella chocolate from Osh and biscuits from 20KMs down the valley. He seemed genuinely surprised that such biscuits could be found just down in the valley. In fact, when he heard Receed wake up in the yurt, he quickly heated up the sheep soup and brought it in to him. He then returned to us and continued eating biscuits. It was pretty obvious to Markus and I that he didn't want his sheppard buddy to know about the tasty biscuits that were been devoured just outside the yurt. Once all the biscuits were gone, Ali helped us with our bikes up the pass, while Receed went off to look for the horse. About 2 hours later Receed arrived on the horse and took our bags on up the hill. Ali took a particular fancy to my bike and was happy to carry it uphill, as long as he could pedal it on the flat parts. It was about 11am when we finally made it to the top of the pass. The relief. And the view across the other side. The altimeter read 3065M. We walked along the top of the pass, following the 2 guys until they found a suitable point to start the descent down the other side. We boiled up some tea and we all had a fine picnic of bread, chocolate and honey. These guys just helped us because its in their nature to help anyone that they can help. Anytime Marcos and I started laughing at something, the 2 guys would laugh along too. They hadn't a word of english but just enjoyed the novelty of hanging around with the unfamiliar sight of 2 guys bringing bikes up the side of this mountain. There was just a 'happy-go-lucky' sense to this whole part of adventure. After the picnic, I literally picked up my bags and threw them over the other side and let them slide down the frozen snow. I'd find them later. Ali hopped on my bike and rode it down the other side. I truly have no idea how he managed it without falling off and breaking his neck. Receed and I reached the top speed of the day by sliding down the frozen mountain snow on my tent bag. We used our elbows as brakes, and now 10 days later, I still have a large scar on my elbows. We said our goodbyes on the other side of the pass and Markus gave them a torch that the lads took a particular interest in. It can be recharged by winding it up rather than using batteries and that would be a big bonus to these sheppards, who rarely leave the mountainside.In the very distance we could see a path and this is where we needed to aim for. The sheppards directed us to the valleys we should aim for, while also pointing out the valleys we need to avoid. It was great to be finally rolling downhill rather than pushing and dragging the bike uphill, but downhill is more dangerous. I've walked up and down glaciers before, but I've always wore crampons (a shoe attachment made up of steel spikes that you place on the sole of your shoes to give you extra grip). Now picture two cyclists skiing down glaciers, with our fully loaded bikes sideways. One hand on the handlebars, one hand on the saddle. The braking system was simple and effective; we would tilt the bike towards us causing the pedal to lock into the ice. It was probably the craziest thing I'd ever done, (but it was still only early in the week). Once out of the snow line things got a bit easier. The priority was always to get into the right valley. As we dropped altitude, we came across a nomad family that were in the process of skinning a goat. We were welcomed in and it was amazing watching how the whole family worked in harmony to prepare the goat for dinner. The father skinned the animal, the two sons prepared a camp fire and barbequed the head and hoofs, the mother and daughter remained mostly inside the yurt boiling up water and herbs and preparing the different parts of the beast as the father cut them out. And the guests are not left too long to sit around staring and taking photos. We were quickly signalled to roll up our sleeves and help the boys barbeque the head. And so lunch was a fine lump of meat from a goat that spent the morning grazing on mountain grass that has never seen a pestitside. It doesn't get more organic than that. We continued down the valley. The path became very difficult to track. We were up to chest height in vegetation, pushing the bikes with a lot of force because of the resistance caused by the plant life. Later we got another invitation into a yurt, this time for a bowl (followed by another bowl) of fermented horse milk. It doesn't taste too strong but it goes straight to the head. An hour later we were running parallel to a small river and we had a definite horse path. It was a good day. In fact it was a great day and we set up the tents beside the river and got a big campfire organised for the evening.

TOUGHEST DAY YET

2009-07-16T22:36:00.001-07:00

Another extraordinary day. We continued north along the river. We have faced all kinds of terrain throughout this week and so it couldn't really be seen as a surprise when the trail turned into a very difficult path of large rocks. It was just another level of difficulty. The fully loaded bikes had to lifted through many parts now. But help arrived in the form of a sheppard on a horse. Life is hard for the people out here and its the community spirit of people helping each other that makes day to day life easier. If someone can see a way in which they can help us then they automatically do so without hesitation. We loaded our bags onto the horse and continued downstream for the next few KMs. The sheppard's timing was perfect. This part of the trip would have been very difficult without the aid of a horse. Soon we were even pedalling again, fully loaded. It was then that we came across a wild gangh plantation. We had heard of wild gangh fields from the children who we had the BBQ with yesterday. I had Pink Floyd on the ipod. Markus had Bob Marley and we spent 2 hours having a 'Class A' horticultural experience. Once we had plenty saved for a bit of dessert for the evening, we continued on down the track. But again the track got difficult. This time it became very narrow along side a steep section. There just wasn't enough room to walk alongside the bike and so we turned back in search of a different route. We were soon back pedalling again, and pedalling through a field full of gangh. The broken stems would fill the air with the plants' scent. We thought we had lost our way and so I hiked on up a nearby hill to search for trails in the area. And that's when I saw it. Just 200M in front of where we were standing there was a clearly marked path where a tractor had passed. The relief. We knew we were getting close now. We shook hands believing the hardest part was behind us. It wasn't. For all the warnings people had given us, no one mentioned the Kara Su river crossing. A few KMs down the road we were faced with a 60ft wide, waist high, powerfully fast river. We searched up and down its banks looking for a bridge, but the only potential crossing was where the tractor path crossed. We all have our limits. This river crossing was mine. I managed 3 crossings of it, bringing across my luggage, but I fell many times and was almost swept away. We tied tent ropes, scarves, bags straps, belts and anything we could find to make a rope long enough to stretch across the river. We tied an inflated spare tyre tube onto the end of the rope and while one of us attempted to cross, the other would stand near the opposite shore and by keeping the rope taut, it made it easier for the person crossing. Markus was stronger than me. I was right on the limits of my capabilities carrying the bags. To take the bike was beyond me. Its a frightening, exciting adrenalin rush to know you are right on your limits. Markus coped up the river really well and he took across both bikes. Notice in the photo above, how deep he is in the water and yet how close he is to the opposite bank. I'm holding one end of the rope while he holds the other. But no photo could do justice to explain the force of that river. And anyway, we were more concerned about getting across it safely rather than taking photos of getting across it. The relief when we had everything across the river was probably the highpoint of the Osh to Bishkek run. We were immediately onto a more widely used track but we were exhausted. We pedalled only 2 KMs down the track before ending the day and setting up camp.