I am a group leader of motorcycling tours. This is my job. Sometimes it’s tough, sometimes it’s a lot of fun and sometimes it is quite dangerous, but I love it and I can’t think of doing something else. I’ve been through plenty of different motorcycling tours around Central Asia for the past year and every single tour was unique and unforgettable adventure, all thanks to different participants, interesting personalities, dangerous and hilarious situations, diverse routes, motorcycles, romance and gorgeous nature around. All of that became one big knot called – adventure motorcycle tour.
I would like to share with some of the stories happened during those trips, that I took part in not as a customer, but as an organizer and a group leader. There is a big difference, isn’t there? By your leave I would love to post it here for the very first time. And the story called “(Through the eyes of motorcycle tour leader.)”.
In this report I want to tell about one of our trips, which we had many years ago, at the very start of our business when we have just begun discovering the furthest parts of Central Asia.

So here we go:
Motorbike tour from Almaty to Aktau or “Hot shots”
It hasn’t been two weeks since I came back from my motorcycling info-tour around Pamir, when my colleague called, who is also my partner and just a good friend from Japan – Mr Unno Kazuhitsa or just Kazu san. He said that a Silk Road group was ready to continue its tour. And I realized that I don’t even need to unpack my backpack.
The Silk Road group is 7 amazing people from Japan who are obsessed with their holly idea to get through the Great Silk Road on motorcycles. Thus, during several years they have been methodically realizing their dream: every year they would pack their bags and drive through some parts of the Silk Road. “But why is taking so long?” –some experienced trucker my ask, - “It should take no more than a month”. Let me explain you something. The thing is that for Japanese people vocation time may last not more than one week not including the flight time, so it does not exceed 10 days per year. And it doesn’t even depend on the position, and more over as higher your position or your salary is, the more you are busy and the less time you can find to have some fun.
Thus, every year the Silk Road group gets trough planned part of the Silk Road during their one week of vacations. So how does that actually work? They’ve started the tour three years ago in China and it took them two years of their vacations to pass the Chinese part from the East to the West. They’ve been driving motorcycles of 250cc rented in China with a huge truck behind them carrying nothing else but spare parts for those nice pieces of bikes.))

For the next year during another vacations the group continued their Crusade, which this time had to start here in Kazakhstan at the eastern side of Horgos (border between China and Kazakhstan), leading to the west till Uzbek border, so the route ran through Horgos – Almaty – Taraz – Shymkent – Tashkent. That was the time when we’ve met these guys from the Silk Road group for the first time while organizing Kazakh part of the tour. It was a successful campaign I must say. By the end of the tour everyone was pretty happy and had flown away filled with satisfaction and hope to continue their tour next year.
And now, Kazu san called and asked to support their another tour, but this time the group is going to work their asses of in order to have another adventure and get through the entire Uzbekistan, again from the East to the West, since that is the Great Silk Road. This time the point A was Shymkent, and B – Aktau, but we had to follow Uzbekistan roads.

Here are the following reference points of the route: Shymkent – Jizzakh – Bukhara – Khiva – Nukus – Beineu – Aktau.



Essential information on fuel and route I received from my friend and an expert of the Wild West in Central Asia - Max (MadMax). He told me that the most important thing was to take as more petrol and water as you can. Thank you so much, man, that was one good advice! Thanks to him we decided to buy a trailer just to have additional fuel with us. The only thing we couldn’t predict was the weather. We cherished the thought that it will be cloudy and not so hot. So… the horses are fed and the boys are harnessed !!! Oh, horses are harnessed and boys are fed))

Let the tour begin!!!

Day 1. Almaty - Shymkent. "Cart"
We shipped all motorcycles from Almaty to Shymkent by trucks, where Japanese were supposed to be. Me, my friend and my friend and companion - Sergey (nickname Comandor) took off on our old, but rugged escort car Toyota Land Cruiser with a trailer carrying 12 empty canisters. We were planning to fill it in right before crossing Uzbekistan border since Kazakh petrol is much better and cheaper.
All the way to Shymkent I was hearing some weird squeaking noises. It was coming from the trailer. We had to stop in order to check it. I pushed a wheel for couple of times to check whether everything was fine. And I suddenly found myself holding a broken wheel, which fell off. What the hell is going on!?! Why? We’ve put new bearings just right before the beginning of the trip! We started looking for failure cause and found it. Wheel axis was bent and its geometry was disrupted, so the bearings could not resist this huge side loading. The good thing was that our truck with motorcycles wasn’t that far. We’ve put the broken trailer inside it and went on. “Well, that’s just great!” – I thought, -“The tour hasn’t started yet and we are already having problems. Shoot!”
We arrived in Shymkent at night and until very morning we’ve been repairing the trailer. Even though we still couldn’t fix the axis and make it perfectly straight, yet we could notice some improvements. And went to bed early in the morning.

DAY 2. Shymkent - Jizzakh. "Contraband"
In the morning being still very sleepy, we went to Shymkent airport in order to meet the Japanese group. And we have finally met them all. What an awesome group! All the same faces! As always accompanied by enormous pile of luggage.
We got to the minivan and headed to the appointed start point, where meanwhile Sergey was supposed to unload the truck, set up the bikes and fill it with fuel. The group quickly changed the clothes and was ready to start.
Before we go any further, I would like to introduce participants of this exciting expedition, I think they deserve some special attention.


Shoichiro Irimajiri or just Mr. Iri san - the pack leader, inspirer of this trip and the oldest participant. He is 70 years old. In spite of his modest look, Iri san is a very noble man. He started his career as aeronautical engineer. Then he joined Honda Motor Co and worked there as project manager. Iri san is the father of legendary series of Honda CBX motorcycles. This bike used to be as they say "the killer" of the motorcycles of those times. The bike possessed unique engineering solution and had such an incredible power that rivals almost switched to production of washing machines and vacuum cleaners))
Iri san had been working for Honda Motor Co for the last 20 years as chief engineer and was designing motorcycle engines and racing car engines for Formula 1. And later he became an executive vice president of Honda Motor Co. After that Iri san had some health problems and had to resign. You can easily find bunch of web-sites telling about the history of this bike, and of course Iri san’s name is written there with block letters, as an indivisible part of the history of this sensational model.
Here is a brief link to the history of this motorcycle
History of the CBX Motorcycle
And here is young Iri san himself
Master Shoichiro Irimajiri Speaks of the CBX Motorcycle
Shoichiro Irimajiri - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Today Iri san is retired, however sometimes he visits Honda company as honorable and well-known consultant. But now his every single aspiration and thought is wholly dedicated to traveling and discovering new and interesting places on the Earth, which can be reached on two wheels.


Kambayashi san. He is 60. Good friend of Iri san. In the 80-s used to be a part of the Honda RacingTeam management.

Usui san is the president of Sega Corporation. Yes, yes, that’s the company that used to be the leader of video game consoles market. Nowadays Sega Corporation has partially redeveloped into other directions and is called SegaSammy. At home Usui san is driving Honda XR250K and quite happy with it.
COO - SEGA CORPORATION | Management Message | Annual Report 2011 | Investor Relations | SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS

Sekine san. He is 56 years old. President of some big record company in Tokyo, which name I couldn’t remember no matter how hard I’ve tried, because I could not even pronounce it.

Hashimoto - the youngest member of the group. He is 40. Mr. Sekine’s assistant.

Kurihara san – even though he tried very hard, he couldn’t say what he did and who he was, since his English was very pour, however as everyone else’s except for Kazu san and Iris. As Kazu san funny commented– they’ve been bad students in school. )

Kazu san - my good friend and colleague. An employee of Japanese Motor-touristic company, the organizer of this trip. The whole year around he is taking part in tours around the globe. His wife was organizing motorcycle tours in Mongolia until 2010, when they had a child and she had to stay at home. We took part in a couple of successful off-road tours in Kazakhstan last year. He is a one funny dude. Riding Honda XR400 and quite happy with it.
Each of them lives in Tokyo.
As one can see these people are not that simple, but still polite, courteous and hilarious.

As I planned, the oldest folks were seated on the most comfortable motorcycles with 650 cc of engine capacity. Iri san provided the most comfortable and a low rider bike Suzuki XF650. It was according to Kazu san’s request he sent right before he arrived. Since everyone still could remember the last year when Iri san could not reach the ground by foot on Yamaha TTR and every time when the entire crew had to take off, we had to literally place Iri san on a motorcycle, and we could move on only after he makes couple of circles around the place, since the stop for him equaled to be down on the ground. When we were driving through some cities at traffic lights we had to perform semi-acrobatics exercises. Before reaching traffic lights we had to support Iri san from both sides trying to keep his bike in balance until the red lights on. So this time Iri san decided not to stick someone and made special shoes with super tall platform, a la “Kiss” band from the 80-s. And he even did not forget to attach specific metal horseshoes to the left shoe in order to be able to switch gear speeds. Tadaaaaaaam!






His friend Kambayashi san was placed on a Yamaha XT600E along with 35 literAsserbis fuel tank, which served as an additional source of fuel supply.
Mr. Sekine san got Honda XR650L also with 25 liter Asserbis fuel tank.

And the rest of the group gladly sat on Honda CRF. And let’s notice that Japanese people unlike the rest of the adventure motorbike world, which thinks that real motorcycles are only those that have engine capacity of minimum 650 cubes, with all satisfaction prefer bikes with 250 cubes of engine capacity. It might be not that comfortable, but quite easy and maneuverable. At their motherland they are not ashamed to drive bikes with 250 cubes and I fully agree with them.
And I ended up with Yamaha WR250. By the way right before the tour we fixed sprockets of smaller size on all the Hondas and my bike as well in order to drive faster and spend less petrol. That was the only upgrade we’ve managed made.

And here we are finally on our way. Flying. Buzzing. 8 motorcycles and a jeep are rushing through southern Kazakhstan one after another in a straight line. I am going the first as the group leader followed by the crew and an escort vehicle rounds out the whole group. I have a radio touch with the jeep. The border is getting closer. We have to hurry up in order not to get there right during the lunch time. Border check points on both Kazakh and Uzbek sides have their meals in different time, and sometimes these feasts may last for hours making the line of people and cars. With strict Japanese requirements every single minute is precious. Having passed not more than twenty kilometers I heard Sergey’s voice in walkie-talkie: “Hey! Stop right there!” My heart dropped. That means that something went wrong. I’m taking off the bike and going to the car. Thank God the bike is standing in a straight position and Kambayshi san is also safely standing, but for some reason with his hands up and wide-opened eyes. Turned out he was all covered with motor oil from top of the head to the bottom of the feet!
The worst thing was that he had white outfit. I couldn’t get it, how come he is covered with motor oil? where did that come from? After troubleshooting we realized that heavy Aserbis fuel tank had broken oil hose, which for some reason was situated right above the bike’s frame on Yamaha. Seems like our customizing turned out to be a failure. We changed the hose and just in case placed a piece of tire as an additional layer. It was ALMOST perfect! Washed the bike and went on. Kambayashi san had to stop couple of times thinking that the hose was broken again. Actually it was oil drops that flew off when the bike was moving. He would stop several times and ask us to eliminate the leak. And we would carefully wipe the bike and apologize for those oil drops flying out of the gaps and say that it’s gonna be alright and we have to hurry up. And he had no choice but to listen to us. Anything can happen on the road. Before reaching the border line we filled all the canisters with Kazakh petrol.
Border between Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan.Yallama check point.
During summer time this building feels like sauna. Very hot and very crowded. Wearing a gear in that room felt like medieval inquisition. Way too hot. And more over you have to fill in some papers and bunch of other forms, which turn into napkins because of sweaty hands. It’s better not to ask the officer to give you another form since that makes them so angry that they will not give you a thing until they chill. It was taking forever. Everyone was nervous. At the end it took us three hours to pass the border. But that was only me and the group, since we passed the border on our bikes with other cars standing in the line. Sergey on his jeep stuck in neutral zone in front of gates to Uzbekistan standing in the line of trucks, they were not moving because someone in the beginning of the line had problems with customs. They all had to stand there and just wait. Our car was trapped as I understood. Me and my crew, we all passed necessary procedures at Uzbek border and here we were standing 300 meters away from our car, but couldn’t do anything to get it out of the line. The escort vehicle during the tour is like our mother. It might be a burden like now, but actually it is our safety net. We have all the spare parts there, as well as petrol, some medicines, personal stuff of the tour participants and even water and food. Its already been five hours since we’ve started passing the border! The shades of evening began to descend. To lead the crew through the darkness on Uzbekistan road is not really cool. The road is full of wagons driving without any flickers, walking cows and donkeys. Expression on our faces said we did not expect that it is going to take so long. We all were exhausted, starving and wanted to get some sleep. We had no choice and I’ve decided to leave the car and wait for it in the hotel in Jizak town. It’s about 200 kilometers from the border. Kazu san had to agree with me. I passed a note with the hotel address to Camandor and we left him waiting in this stupid trap.
The darkness reached us on the road. The traffic was still pretty active and we had to maneuver between trucks and car in the total darkness. One thing that was killing the most was that our escort vehicle wasn't there behind us as it always used to be. And I couldn’t see the end of our line. That was just awful. If something went wrong (we are out of the petrol, the bike is broken or some accident) the car would always report me by walkie-talkie, we would all stop and move on only when the problem was solved. We even call the escort vehicle “a broom” since it’s kinda “sweeping” those who got behind. Without the car I had to look back all the time while I was driving in order to count the bikes. If you have ever been the tour leader you should know what it feels like. I would call it some kind of an art and of course it’s a huge responsibility. Every single minute you have to be aware and feel your crew. It’s like a snake’s body, where a group leader is its eyes and head. And before making any move (over taking or stop) you have to be sure that your “body” (the crew) is still there, it didn’t fell off and did not break into pieces, because of that we may lose our confidence or even one of the members. You have to be aware of every single factor: participants’ mood, their individual driving experience, physical strength, the road condition, traffic, weather conditions and etc. As I said it’s a huge responsibility. Oh, sorry, I may have lost the line of my story.))
So here we are on the road. Sometimes I could see that some car would reach and follow us. I would truly believe that it was Sergey, but it wasn’t him. The walkie-talkie was silent. The phone wasn’t ringing.
We reached Jizak in the middle of the night. Checked in, hardly walking. Got some food. No one was talking. Everyone knew that Sergey still wasn’t there, so as the car, and that means that there is no luggage, no petrol, no tools and bunch of other important shit.
It was just the beginning and we had hundreds of kilometers in front of us.
I had the only thought in my mind. Am I ready..or even.. will I be able to lead the group without the escort vehicle. Maybe it was crazy, but I felt like I was ready. We all had our documents, some money and some necessary tools to change the tires. But if we don’t make it and the tour is over, that will be a disaster. I would lose my face in front of anyone, but not in front of these Japanese people. And “hara-kiri” wouldn't even help me.))) we all finished the dinner, everyone headed to their rooms and I was still sitting, with my head full of sad thoughts.
I could turn around and come back, but I couldn’t leave the group, and to be honest I had no power. So I’ve decided to wait till the morning. I went to bed and put the walkie-talkie under my pillow. It took me quite long time before I fell asleep. Suddenly I caught off. I had a dream about Sergey. Seemed like he was asking me: “Where are you? What’s your room number?”
At first I didn’t get that it was actually coming from walkie-talkie. I’ve answered. Oh my God! He was back. I looked at the clocks. 4 am. Sergey came in the room. He didn’t look good, all covered with mud, angry and exhausted. I realized that he cannot talk and he is just ****ing surprised with something. I went to get some and got him talking.
- What happened man? – I asked
- I was arrested by Uzbek customs officers – he said swearing as he could
- What the hell? Why?
- They found canisters with fuel in our trailer and thought that I was smuggling it! Turned out that according to local legislation it is not allowed to have more than 20 liters of petrol per one vehicle. And there is a petrol crisis here in Uzbekistan now!!! We have more than 12 canisters in our trailer.
Shiiit, - was my first thought. 240 liters is a great reason to get some easy money for Uzbek customs. Knowing Sergey’s hot temper I understood that he wasn’t giving out the petrol and just told them to get the **** off him! And they’ve just put him in a jail.
- What happened next?
- Well...then they made a kind of performance, pretending that they got the head of smuggling racket and held me in a jail until I found another way to bribe them. And after, those bastards took out all the petrol and poured it in a hole. So now we have 12 ****ing empty canisters! – Comandor was drinking and slowly coming to himself.
- But why are you so dirty? – I was dying to know
- **** that shit…don’t even ask me…!!! I don’t give a shit about that ****ing trailer…why the **** we’ve decided to buy it…its ****ing wheel…shit….fell off and rolled down to the ****ing field…with corn or some other shit…and I couldn’t find it in the darkness…and there was a ****ing swamp or something else…and when I finally found it, no **** would stop to help me out to fix it…
Comandor was about to cry because of that annoyance, and I was about to laugh of happiness. It wasn’t all that bad – everyone was alive, in a good health, free and we were finally reunited. He finished the and we went to bed.......

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www.silkoffroad.kz - Motorcycle tours in Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan (Pamir). Contact me mariolucker@gmail.com

DAY 3. Jizzakh - Samarqand - Bukhara."Sunstroke"

Every morning we would start with bikes proving: oil, chains, lubrication and other troubleshooting. But today the only thing that bothered us the most was ****ing trailer. The wheel was fixed with two bents screws, Sergey couldn’t find the rest of the screws when the wheel rolled down the field, but we had to reach Bukhara today – about 400 kilometers to go. The road to Bukhara went through Samarkand – quite a big city, which was the only chance to find suitable screws and fix this trailer.



Not far from Samarkand




In Samarkand we had some time to get to the auto market and find screws. The crew tried some nice and hearty Samarkand pilaf and got the taxi. We gave some money to the driver and ordered them to go sightseeing and be back in three hours. And I went to the auto market to buy some screws.

Hearty Samarkand pilaf is forth to be shot with good Japanese cameras.


Memory photo with a family of wonderful Oshkhany – aka the pilaf maker


Samarkand auto market



Auto market in Uzbekistan is like an Eastern bazar – even solid oil and gearbox oil look just like nice jam. Yummy ))



Curiously enough, but we found exactly what we needed at Samarkand market – some firm file-hard Russian screws of suitable size. Everyone at the market was walking around with big bags or packs, sometimes in both hands. There was Uzbekistan money in those bags. The have single banknote with 1000 summ of nominal volume. There are no other banknotes at all. It’s about 40 cents. For instance, if you want to buy a wheel costing$200 you will have to bring the whole bag with 2 – 3 big bricks o money. And if someone wants to buy a car you gotta come to the market on two cars, one for yourself and another one for the money. It’s enough to make a cat laugh as some people say. But really, it’s impossible to carry such a pile of money. You won’t find one fair wallet that would be big enough for Uzbek money and you won’t be able to fit in even $50 in your pocket, especially if you are wearing jeans. Some people say that the government did it on purpose, something like anticorruption measures, because one won’t be able to hide a bribe. So we were walking around carrying those bags too.))
When we have just fixed the trailer our Japanese people were back with happy faces - they loved Samarkand. We got on the bikes and moved forward.
The day was very hot. The sun was worse than a megavoltage lamp. It was hot everywhere. So we were not very surprised when someone got the sunstroke. The first was Kurihara san. He got off the bike almost fainting and lay down near the road. His nose was bleeding. We started spraying water on his face, putting compress on his forehead, saying some cheerful words, so eventually he was back to life.



In a while the same thing happened to Kambayashi san. The good thing was that they had enough of will power in order not to faint and fall off the bike. He just stopped, refused from cold compress and got a plastic case out if his pocket. Then took out some shiny Japanese pills and put it in his mouth. First he got very pale, then turned blue and after back to normal color. Saying nothing he got on the bike, made “let’s move on!” move with his hand and took off. To be honest those stops we took to get some water and rest made it even worse. When you stop you can feel that there is absolutely no wind and as hot as in hell, so you turn into some slow-moving lizard. We could barely speak. And believe me, it’s better to move than become an amphibian in less than a second. When it was getting unbearable, we would pour some water on our faces and it felt great, but not too long, 5 seconds and you are dehydrated. And after you are sweaty again and everything starts to swim before the eyes…
We haven’t reached the point yet, but the sun touched the horizon already. During these moments you feel absolute joy. The temperature drops and the coolness comes. Our mood is getting better, faces are smiling, we start to make jokes and talk again. I felt myself damn good. There is nothing more important than crew’s positive attitude.

whenever we stopped for a while there some curious people would come out of nowhere, sometimes way too many. But what I like in Uzbek character the most, unlike in Kazakhs, is that they were just watching us not bothering at all. Sometimes we would be politely asked whether they could take I picture with one of our bikes.



Ancient Karavansaray – a source of shadow, coziness and water on the Silk Road. Even though it is a monument of architecture there is still a whole swimming pool inside.



Cardboard police cars on the roads scare anyone



We reached Bukhara around 9 pm. Tall prayer towers and cupolas of Bukhara appeared far in front of us with dark blue sky and few stars at the background. Evening Bukhara is a true miracle! Seems like “The Thousand and One Night” tails come alive.
Despite late hour and fatigue we had to provide some food and drinks for everyone and get them to sleep. It was quite hard to do it in Bukhara at 1 am, but I finally found nice restaurant, where we had some pizza and cold . The oldest and the youngest one – Iri san and Hashimoto – fell asleep right on the table. Even noisy company of young people next to their table could not wake them up. It was a bachelor party. One of the guys was getting married soon and they were having some fun. I actually loved the way they were doing it. First they were drinking vodka for about 10 minutes, laughing and talking, and then ordered the music – some Uzbek folk music – groovy, dynamic and very loud. They would all come out to the dance floor and start dancing in a very cheerful and Uzbek way, with all the moves, tricks and spinning. Then they would come back to their table and continue drinking altogether apologizing at the same time for being so loud and bothering. And it was all the way long while we were having our late dinner. That’s the way civilized people should party.)

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www.silkoffroad.kz - Motorcycle tours in Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan (Pamir). Contact me mariolucker@gmail.com

Hi Mara,
This is one cool RR.
I my self plan to be there in second week of June, therefore I would like to ask-
how you are solving poor benzine issue, and money- is the Russian rubel good enough or better to have dollars or euros. Also what is exchange rate on black market.
Since I enter from west, shall I change money on boarder or better to reach some city?
Sincerely, Erik

Hi Erik
Sometimes petrol problem is in Uzbekistan. If there is no petrol on petrol station you should look at roadside in city or village. Local people sell black market petrol in plastic bottles pepsi or coca.
Better have dollars. In KZ, KG, TJ no black market. You can change dollars at exchange office everywhere. In the cities there are exchange offices. In small villages you can change in private stores. Сcurrency rate is almost the same everywhere.
In Uzbekistan, officially, you can change dollar only in the bank. There rate is very low . You can also change dollars on the street (black market) near to the bazaars in big tourist cities (Bukhara, Samarkand, Tashkent). But it is gamble. Sometimes the police raids. Better to ask the hosts in private guest houses. It is safe and normal rate. On the border sometimes possible change money also .(black market) Usually i change about $50-100 just in case. That's enough reach to guest house.
Please feel free to contact us for more info.

__________________
www.silkoffroad.kz - Motorcycle tours in Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan (Pamir). Contact me mariolucker@gmail.com

DAY 4. Bukhara - Khiva. "Petrol disagreement".

Today we had 500 kilometers ahead. We had to cover one of the biggest deserts in the world – Kyzylkum. Once I started thinking about it, I could feel as my mouth dried out, lips stuck together and my helmet started to squeeze my head three times harder. That was the reason why I was trying to convince Kazu san to start early in the morning in order to avoid hot sun as long as it was possible. “My people want to see Bukhara”, - Kazu san said. “So please give us couple of hours”. I could do nothing but say “No problem!” Before we’ve started the trip I advised to take two days to see one of the most beautiful and amazing places – Bukhara. To be honest even two days wouldn’t be enough for it. But of course they couldn’t afford even couple of days thanks to Japanese vacations. The crew took express tour around famous Bukhara. We had nothing to do but to follow them, become tourist and buy some souvenirs.

Bukhara. Morning in a guest house.





Lyabi Hauz – ancient pool. Even now it is a favorite place to relax in the shadow, get some green tea, just to chat and chill.)





The old Soviet design milk bottles. On the aluminum cap. I remember childhood



Minor square



Freaky ornaments







The Ark fort




Entrance to it




Iri san had already bought a Turkmen hat and was so happy with it



Modern bike



Souvenirs…Souvenirs

__________________
www.silkoffroad.kz - Motorcycle tours in Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan (Pamir). Contact me mariolucker@gmail.com

Me and Sergey thought that it was a smoking pipe and we started counting to whom out of smoking friends we could bring such a present, which is not too expensive and very useful device. A seller was just about the time to tell us that it wasn’t actually what we thought it was – “Oh no, no!!!” – he seemed to be very surprised – “it is not for that! It is for babies! When they’ve just been born and are lying in their beds, this wide end of the tube, where you though you would put the weed, goes actually on their penis, so when the child is peeing all the liquid comes out of the tube leading out of the bed through a hole…well it is something like a re-usable diaper… understood?” We changed with looks and started to laugh crying our eyes out!)) yeah, nice present)))… oseroseroser



Collective photo at the Miri-Arab Midrise square



And off we go!!!



In order to cover planned distance we had to get some petrol, but the bad news was that there was no fuel at the station. We were not very surprised since we’ve been told before that we might face this kind of problem.
- “You had no idea?” – locals were quite surprised. “It’s been a week since the crisis started all around the country”.
- “But we got some petrol in Samarkand!” – we answered
- “Well, it is going to reach them too very soon. And the western part of Uzbekistan, the place where you are headed to, they have the same situation since looooong time ago”. – he looked pretty sure in what he was saying
Of course we were not very happy. Actually, there was no fuel crisis in the country. The government made it up in purpose in order to resell the petrol through their sources with higher price. And more over, local authorities are planning to introduce propane gas as the fuel for transportation, because it is quite cheap and they have lots of it in Uzbekistan, unlike imported overpriced Kazakhstan petrol.
We’ve lost almost an hour till we found a tiny station with endless queue standing for 76 th octan petrol. uke1uke1uke1
Here me and Comandor are having an argument. He was told by some local that in Khiva we would be able to find smuggled Turkmen petrol of high quality and Sergey proposed to fill in only the half of empty canisters!!!



- Why don’t we fill in all the canisters!!! – I was furious
- So the trailer won’t be so loaded and there won’t be any pressure on its wheels, what if bearings will break again. – Comandor was quite firm.
- Oh come oooon!!! – I’ve started to yell, - “We’ve been rolling around with 12 empty canisters and no we are going to fill in only the half of them? It’s insane! I don’t give a shit about this ****ing trailer!!! If it breaks again, I don’t know, we will put canisters behind our backs. In the worst scenario, we can just leave it right there and take it on our way back” - I was trying to convince Comandor.

Of course I was worried about the trailer too. But there was no room in the car. It was full of huge bags. Yes we’ve fixed the wheel with new screws, but the axis was still bent and it would still be giving some pressure on the bearings. But the most I was worried about was the desert, where we could get stuck with 8 bikes out of the petrol. And I heard that there were no stations all the way through the desert. Even if we find one, there might be no fuel. I was insisting on 10 canisters minimum, but Comandor was inexorable. We entered Kyzyl-kum desert still fighting.



It was like in hell. Hot air was burning the skin even through the clothes. We could feel hot wind on our faces. Bottles with water were flying out of the escort vehicle and were driven in with such a strength as shells of a stutterer. I would take off the helmet, pour half bottle of the water in it and put it back on. The Japanese were laughing at me first. But after some time they’ve started doing the same. Eventually everyone found it really helpful. For 20-30 minutes the head was like in oasis, the brain was cooling off for a while and the view of the road wasn't swimming in front of the eyes. But it wasn't frequent. The water was disappearing way too fast and the car was full of way too empty bottles. Some random driver said that it was ****ing +50C.!!!
The petrol we got in Bukhara was quite shitty. If the quality of petrol is very bad the fuel consumption rises. Same thing happened to us. We haven’t passed even 100 kilometers when the fuel tanks on five bikes got empty. We’ve put some more. After another 100 kilometers the same thing happened. And we loaded it with petrol again. Passed a bit more. We shared the last drops of fuel among each other including the car. So we were officially out of the petrol and still far from our point of destination. Comandor started to look very worried. He finally got it. I was trying to go very slowly in order to spend less petrol. After some time those who were driving bikes of 250 cc reached me one after another and showed that they’be switched to RESERVE tanks.

No cars, no people around – just sand.



Comandor feeling his guilt was somewhere out there in the end of the line, trying to avoid our sights. But I was swearing out loud in my helmet that I’ve almost become deaf. I was cursing myself that I haven’t done the way I wanted. After some time Kazu san reached me and gestured that someone’s bike died out and we had to stop. Canisters were empty. So the whole way after I was taking some petrol from other Hondas XR650 and Yamahas XT600 and shared it with other bikes. But we were still on our way God knows how. Our brains were boiling and the petrol was hopelessly disappearing. On our way we’ve met 5 – 6 cars and asked the drivers to sell some petrol. But, unfortunately, like other cars they were all using gas and couldn’t help us out.
The landscape started to change rapidly: green trees and village houses were getting visible. We were reaching the biggest river in Central Asia – Amudariya. And beautiful oasis was all around us..



However it wasn’t very helpful, actually it was getting even worse. We made hundred stops at random petrol stations and lost bunch of time. They were all closed. Every bike was using auxiliary tanks by that time and Khiva was still quite far away. “It could have been worse”, - I was comforting myself. Even if we get stuck in here, we won’t be surrounded by endless desert. Suddenly couple of bikes died out and stopped. We had no one to take petrol from. Even the car. Seemed like it was using the air, but not petrol anymore. So we stopped and started praying for the miracle to happen. Suddenly, a young man appeared out of nowhere and very quietly asked: “Want some petrol?”
- Do you have any? – me and Sergey asked as one man
- Give me a sec
And next thing we know he pulled out a three liters bottle with petrol.
- Is that all??? Do you have some more? – we were about to cry
- I may find..how much do you need?
- Get everything you have!!!
- Ok, gotta ask my neighbors.
We were dying of curiosity. How much will he get? In less than half an hour another man brought a cart with big milk can on it and said:
- You were damn lucky you got stuck in here, in other places there is no petrol at all. Like seriously.
We shared 50 liters of petrol among each other. Actually we could hardly believe it was petrol, it didn’t have typical smell. I heard they might fob off some gas condensate. They somehow use it for big trucks or buses. But with bikes, there might be some troubles. Yep, it was exactly what I thought and we had no choice.
But the view around was just gorgeous. Water in the desert makes wonderful things. Rice fields, fruit trees. After lifeless desert it all seemed as tropical forest, through which we couldn’t define pontoon bridge over Amudariya. But we finally found it.



It was a toll bridge. Bikes were free of charge. We had to pay just for the car, but not so much. We passed Urgench town when it was getting darker. There was no petrol as well. From Urgench to Khiva we had to go in total darkness. But suddenly it seemed to me that I have passed a trolley bus. Is that for real? I looked carefully. Huh, there was no mistake! Transmission line was up in there and it was leading right to Khiva. I found out later. Turned out it was one of the rarest types of transportation in the world: intercity trolley bus, Urgench – Khiva route! About 35 kilometers long.
Khiva
If Bukhara seemed to be as ancient Bagdad, evening Khiva to the opposite looked like a picture copied from the pages of “The Thousand and One Night” fairytales. This ancient city hasn’t changed for the past thousand years. It’s a pure museum. I’ve booked a hotel here, where I’ve never been before, and it was the best choice. The building is situated right in the center of Khiva. It used to be Mukhammed Amin Khan Midrise, which was built in the middle of 19th century (1851-1853). It used to serve as the biggest midrise of the city, more than 250 students were studying and living there till the beginning of the 20th century.

Our hotel



I have to admit that I was always fond of Uzbek hospitality. And fond of designers, who with all the grace and elegance easily mixed all the necessary blessings of civilization such as television, air conditioners, fridges and etc. with ancient eastern interior and century-old stonework. They managed to keep the atmosphere of the eastern antique with different interior design items.

interior of the ancient midrise







But more over I love the way they treat their visitors. Discreet attention of the personnel turns to individual provenance if you wish so. I don’t really know all the cool hotels of Almaty, but I’m pretty sure that here is much cooler. In Almaty no receptionist would go out of his desk and show you your room, politely asking about your traveling and whether there is anything they could do for you.
And of course every single local is talking up his city. Which one is higher? Older? More beautiful? Citizens of Uzbekistan will not be able to avoid these topics. There is a big competition between Samarkand, Bukhara and Khiva. They can have endless and pointless arguments concerning beauty of their cities, as we know every man to his own taste. But there are some obvious facts that everyone has to put up with. For instance, Samarkand is much older than Bukhara and Khiva, and it is actually one of the most ancient cities on the planet. It is about 3 000 years old, but the atmosphere of old times is gone due to modern looks of new buildings, structures and etc. Bukhara is younger, but still has its ancient look. But citizens of Khiva are proud of their famous prayer tower Islam-Khodji. It’s 10 meters higher than famous Kalyan prayer tower in Bukhara and is 56.6 meters tall. However Bukharians have something to confront with. They believe that Kalyan has multimeter base hidden under century-old layers of the ground. And if to count that level, Islam-Khodji tower will be far away from the title of the tallest one. It’s quite fun to watch those debates.

Our bikes are peacefully sleeping near prayer tower.

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www.silkoffroad.kz - Motorcycle tours in Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan (Pamir). Contact me mariolucker@gmail.com