Masa's trail

Finally I have found a set of decent wires so that I can send some of my impressions across. I tried to find an internet access point in the villages that I passed through, but Kazakh Telecom, which seems to have a monopoly, failed to deliver every time. You end up in a damp little room with about three middle-aged women that try to fire up a pentium 1. After 4 or 5 attempts they tell you: "nije robotisj".

Shalqar, 8 October 2009

Ok, I take back what I said earlier about the roads.. Now that I am (almost) the sole user of the road east through West-Kazakhstan I wish the road would have been of a bit better quality. Long stretches of dust road have been etched into the steppe next to the initial asphalt way that has been eroded by weather and heavy trucks. From time to time the riding goes smooth on these secondary roads, but all too often I am unpleasantly surprised by 'scrubbing board'. This pattern of little bumps, carved into the sand by the drilling of shock absorbers, absorbs in turn my speed within a couple of meters and, more painfully, deals out blows on my wrists and lower back. Really frustrating, especially if you're finally cruising downhill after having climbed for half an hour.

But like so often is the case, self-pity is soon put into perspective. And to be honest, the first day I was driving on what my father would call: 'a road like a billiard cloth'. Because the road from oil town Atyrau to oil town Aptau is as smooth as silk. But when you take a left at Dossor, things rapidly change and soon I was cursing the bumps and holes in the road. The perspective to my self-pitying in this case was Masahito Yoshida, whom I met a bit after that left turn. Masa is walking from Shanghai to Lisbon, so while I just did the first 500K into Kazakhstan, he was about to finish his 4 months stroll through the steppe. His story: he started walking on 1 January 2009 and drags along all that he needs in a small trailer. He has crossed China and the larger part of Kazakhstan and is now heading for Russia, Ukraine, and then down into Southeast-Europe in order to make his way to the Atlantic coast of Portugal (excellent destination).

When I continued cycling after our encounter, I felt like a torpedo. The distance I make in a day will take him approximately four. That implies he must carry much more supplies because there aren't that many 'fuel stations' along the Kazakh roads. And not many alternatives for the route, so when I showed my pictures to the people that hosted me the days after (a great way to tell your story if you lack the words in 'Kazacksky'), they often recognised the wanderer from the east. With their eyes wide open they point at the little screen and make it clear to me that they have seen him. "He told me 'salaam aleikum!', he must be Iraqi", or "he didn't speak Kazacksky so I couldn't speak with him!" I asked them how long ago it was they saw Masa, and like this I went back 4 weeks in time over the last 6 days. I also like to imagine the faces of the two ladies of the tea room in Dossor that I visited, when Masa entered their establishment that same day (see picture; 'Шайхана' (tea house) was about 25K from our meeting point) . I mean they couldn't believe I made it all the way to their cup of chai by bicycle, what must they have thought when Masa walked in.. "Salaam aleikum, I made it to here all the way from China on foot.." Maybe they just thought tourism finally came to Dossor', or maybe they walked outside looking for the camera's of the Kazakh candid camera.

So my route went up northeast, along the the railway that runs from Atyrau to Oktyabrsk (as it is called on the google map that I used, but which is actually 'Kandyaghash'), and then southeast along the railroad that runs from Aqtöbe to ... I don't know exactly where, but I wouldn't be surprised if it runs all the way to Almaty in the far southeast corner of the country. So 820K up and than about 280 down. When you're doing that, you wonder why the roads couldn't have been paved a bit more horizontally, but I guess most of them were constructed during the time of socialism and back then, the center was situated somewhere else. According to Mata, the bit that I am facing now, between Shalqar and Aral, is particularly bad, so I am not sure what to do. Either go up in northwestern direction (in which case my route starts to resemble an expanded bellows of an accordion), until I hit the M32 and then go south again (approximately twice the distance), or try my luck on the old direct road to Aral. I just asked the guys of the internet café (who have been feeding me great snacks!), and they also warned me by pointing at the direct road on the map: "Sahara!" So I guess it's going to be the long road. (Picture: an ex-cyclebeast)

I'll try to post more stories soon!

I regret not having included this song in my play list when I left home. A work of art of some of my favourite musicians, 'the Cinematic Orchestra'. To me, it epitomizes a homelike feeling. Now that I am doing without a home for about three months, I don't need to have the actual mp3 to listen to it. Sweet Memory. So onto the OST of the bike ride east:

P.s. Although I didn't meet any cyclebeasts ever after my father took the train/plane, a pattern does start to appear. The Russian customs officials told me about a Belgian 'fietsbeest'/'bête de vélocipède' (you never know with Belgium) that passed the same border a month ago, and my Volgograd host Sergey told me about Wolfi, a German Fahrradbiest that stayed at his place two months ago. Both are heading for, or by now cycling through China. So one every month seems to be the frequency.

P.s. 2 One of the singers of the Backchisaray contest found the video I made of her on Youtube. Funny how internet connects and connects and connects... That also has a downside.. (thanks for the freak out Deco, had a good laugh at that table in the corner of O'Farrell's I imagine?).