Tajikistan – The Jewel in the Crown

Our ride through the ‘Stans brought us to Tajikistan, one of the least known of the former Soviet states, but perhaps one of the most stunning. Geographically it’s the Bolivia of Central Asia, a landlocked country with mountains covering over 90% of its surface area.

Yep, it’s mountainous and so it’s an ideal place for bike travel, if you’re feeling adventurous. The tarmac, where it exists is often pitiful and the gravel you can really get to grips with, just the clouds of dust are a problem, soon solved by ensuring that you’re the front rider as many of our group discovered. The numerous peaks and mountain passes gave us miles of twisting tracks to ride, a relief after some of the desert roads we’d ridden to get here. Uzbekistan may have grabbed more than its fair share of stunning architecture, but it had nothing to compare with the majesty of the Pamir mountains, or in fact any of the mountain ranges that litter Tajikistan.

We started in Dushanbe, with its cool leafy boulevards, great array of restaurants (Ecuadorian dinner anyone?), fantastic outdoor beer and shashlik gardens is not actually very typical of Tajik life. We made the most of it, though our main activity was the maintenance and servicing of the bikes. We had 26 tyres to unload from the roof - everyone was changing from the hardwearing multi-use Metzeler Tourance to knobbly tyres with a bit of bite to them, the majority of us electing to have Continental TKC’s. It was back-breaking work as we removed wheels, changed tyres, did oil changes and replaced filters, as well as the all-important checking every bolt to ensure they’re secure and hadn’t rattled loose on all the bumpy tracks. By the end of the second day in Dushanbe, all the work was completed and we could relax a bit.


Our hotel had a lot of military personnel staying, mostly air force officers from a number of different countries and all of them having a role in Afghanistan - a stark reminder just how close we now are to the conflict areas. They were all fascinated with us and our bikes, and the fact that we had ridden here from London. They crowded round asking their questions, with some of them ready to sign up for a trip with us next year.

Eventually we tore ourselves away from the luxuries of Wi-Fi Internet access, cold beers and air-conditioning, knowing that it's going to be weeks rather than days before we experience them again. The road took us south to the Amu Darya river which marks the border with Afghanistan. Here, there were a lot more animals roaming in their flocks and herds as well as donkeys in abundance, a clear reflection of Tajikistan’s poor economic situation – it is the poorest of the former Soviet Republics and around 20% of the population lives on less than $1.25 a day.

The mountains got higher and we were riding around 120 miles a day, the combination of gravel, sand, loose stones and river crossings ensuring that it was still a full day of riding, though the river crossings were mostly dry as they have had a mild winter here. Very different to the conditions experienced in 2010! Each evening we’d arrive at our home-stay (fairly basic accommodation with local families) marvelling at the amazing scenery that we’d seen and comparing ride experiences of thrills and of course the occasional spills. No-one has escaped unscathed at this point.

For days on end we followed the river, all the time no more than 100 yards from Afghanistan on the opposite bank, where we could see the local people going about their daily lives and often they would call across and wave at us riding our bikes through. We reached the Wakhan Valley, one of the most remote places in the world and once more the scenery became even more amazing with the Hindu Kush forming a back drop. In fact, Afghanistan is so narrow at this point that the mountains we were looking at are actually in Pakistan, some of them being over 6,000 metres high (nearly 20,000 feet). Looking at the snow on them, we could start to envision how the Himalayas will appear when we reach them in a couple of weeks.

We arrived at the Yamchun fortress, a 2nd century fortification with its magnificent mountainside position commanding the valley which made a great spot for photo opportunities. Then as a reward for making it along the narrow and steep gravel track, some of us took advantage of the Bibi Fatima hot springs, making the most of the hot water gushing out of the mountainside to soothe our weary muscles and wash away the dust and sweat from the journey.

Our ride out of the Wakhan Valley was possibly the most spectacular yet (though that was before we saw what Kyrgyzstan had to offer), as the track wound its way up from the valley floor until we were at 4300 metres, gasping for breath and having to ride through sand, a challenge for everyone. We also had our first casualty of the trip, when a kamikaze dash across the track by a golden marmot ended badly for it under the wheel of a rider who will remain nameless, but who comes from the same country that gave us ABBA.

Our final day along the famous Pamir Highway, with herds of yak alongside brought us to Murghab, the epitome of a wild west town, an extremely dusty settlement where the bazaar operates out of abandoned shipping containers and yak dung is the main source of fuel. Tomorrow another border and the Kyzl Art Pass await!