Murphys Silkroad was originally named Alpide Belt and was planned as a six-week trip home from Mongolia to Germany.My KTM 640 was still in Ulaanbataar from the trip over Siberias BAM Road. After the offroad fireworks last year I had worried already that I would be bored with the trip over the Pamir and along the Silk Road. Unfortunately everything was different and I was confronted with a streak of bad luck with epic proportions.



The start in Mongolia was still half-decent and we had a good time in the northern foothills of the Gobi desert. Due to the weather, a deep dive into mountain roads and off-road trails in the Altai is too critical. In Kazakhstan our paths separate. Cate drove the Pamir and I tried to repair my motorcycle unsuccessfully. The following change from the motorcycle traveler to a backpacker will hopefully be an once-in-a-lifetime experience. In the exhausting heat of Uzbekistan, I can only continue with all possibilities of public transportation until we meet the Snaiths. Azerbaijan and Iran really allow me to dive deeply into the world of backpackers.

Cates Journey still continues while i’m at home already. You can follow her blog on:

Auszeit – auf 2 Rädern

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Auszeit auf 2 R�dern - SOS

Arrival:

The trip has not yet begun and gave me already a nerve-wracking rollercoaster like I have never experienced before. But from the beginning.
Friday 3 working days before departure, my visa agency informs me that my passport does not arrive as planned 2 days before departure because the Iranian consulate does not issue visas because of the elections on Friday. Good if Monday everything works the pass arrives by express on Tuesday. Anyone who orders last minute express visas can’t expect to have the pass several days before. Unpleasant but for me the issue was good for now.

Monday 2 days before departure. Nothing is happening. I pack my things together and realize that I have almost 10kg excess luggage. Actually no wonder, if brake discs, chain kit, 3 tubes and various other spare parts have to go into the luggage. With the additional costs of 40 € according to Aeroflot Homepage no big deal



Tuesday 1 day before departure a missed call from the Visa Agency. I had a sense of forboding. My friendly and endeavored Visa Agent tells me on the recall that due to an IT failure in the Iranian consulate my passport could not be processed on Monday. But he is doing everything today and needed the flight details to send me the passport directly to the airport. I talked to myself several times that this passport desk exists only because this happens regularly and works nevertheless I am nervous. My work colleagues are already joking you may like to come to work also tomorrow. Does not contribute to calming down but I would make the same jokes. At noon, I briefly think about picking up the ID card myself and then my visa agent calls again. Unfortunately my identity card is still in the Turkmen Consulat and can’t be processed today. BAM Drumbeat my resting puls is at least 150 beats. So phone service with the airline Aeroflot. My flight from Munich via Moscow to Ulaanbataar can only be booked on the 2.6. The famous justification the flight from Moscow to Ulaanbataar ist carried out by MIAT Mongolia. A rebooking to the daily complete Aeroflot flights from 25-28 May were seats are available is not possible. Cancellation costs € 300. The fill in to fly from Frankfurt and to pick up the passport before the visa agency failed also due to Aeroflots bureaucracy. My visa agent does not want to belive it and telephoned unsuccessful with Aeroflot, too. Conclusion I canceled the flight and informed my visa agency about the 415 € cancellation fees and refer to the sales they have already done with me in the past.

Wednesday planned departure day. On request, I am told by the Visa Agency that my passport is now available to me and the management would talk to me about the costs. Fantastic idea to call a customer who plans 6 weeks a journey mainly through regions in which he is cut off from the outside world. I’m already looking forward to the conversation which costs me horrendous telephone charges and ends most likely after a lot of whining with a zero number. We agree that I pick up the passport in Frankfurt and book a flight on Friday. My travel agency is no help to me on their homepage I can’t book the flight and over the hotline they referred me to the airline. After all, I am well advised by Olga. She tells me that I have to pay 150€ for the 10kg excess luggage. The explanation for the difference is obviously found in the small print of the homepage. She advises me to choose a flextarif in which I have for the same price two pieces of luggage a 23kg and the ticket is rebookable and fully refundable. After the experience before, I was immediately persuaded. My painstakingly packaged baggage is ripped again and my motorcycle equipment now fits into the additional quantity. Everything negatively has also a positive side, even if this is very very expensive comfort. Well, there are two more positive thoughts to hold. I can still visit a friend’s birthday and have a nice barbecue with other friends on Thursday.

Friday 4:30 I overslept. The hairdressing is canceled just a shower, breakfast and right into the car. 8:45 I personally meet my visa agents and I do not know who was more lucky. He, because he really had my passport or I because I really could start. It doesn’t matter so I continued to the airport. It is still much too much time but rather waiting for departure with than without a passport. 14:05 goes the plane. The landing approach to Moscow starts at 18:10 the boarding for the connection flight starts at 18:20. An announcement in the airplane refers a gate change from 5 to 3. Fortunately, I asked an aerospace employee for the way. Otherwise, I would have learned too late that this terminal has no Gate 3 and Gate 5 is still correct. Not very surprising was her hint that I’m late but I made it in time.



Saturday still in the plane it got more and more obvious that the mosquito bite of Wednesday has been inflammed. I try desperately to place my leg so that the pain subsides but without success 5:50 the plane lands in Ulaanbataar. Short passport control, quickly take the luggage and finally arrive was in my head. After all, this has worked with the passport control but after the baggage carousel came to a standstill without my luggage, the tension was immediately maximal again. When the airport employees sent me to the “Lost and Found” desk, it was not really soothing. It was data recorded the luggage classed and then they explained that I should call Aeroflot tomorrow. Most likely my luggage will come in the next airplane. Admittedly, I can imagine quite well that it was not possible in the short time to load my luggage from one plane into the other, but why does no one tells that before? Good underpants once turn, the best hope and the toothbrush does not cost a fortune. My pulse calms down quickly again so gradually he has also routine. Outside, a Taxi driver tried to fool me with 20 dollars in the end he got converted 13 because he was so sympathetic to me. On the short walk between ATM and OASIS, I realized that the inflammation is slowly getting nasty. I can hardly stand on that foot and the 300m become a real agony. In any case, it was nice to arrive at the OASIS, even if nobody expect the watchman was awake and other staff was not present.

Mongolia:

A small city stroll on Sunday, nice conversations with the other travelers at the Oasis everything feels as if I had never been at home in between. My I got my motorcycle right on Monday Cate got hers on Tuesday, that she is a great passenger doesn’t help over that disappointment. After my tires are missing it couldn’t do as much as I planned but the other work kept my occupied the whole day anyway. When we start on Wednesday with 3 days of delay, I’m definitely unhappy with the condition of my bike, at home I wouldn’t start like that.

Already the first driving day starts with two breakdowns and incredibly helpful Mongols. We still surpass our day’s goal and pitched up our tents close to Khuld. In the evening a cow in the morning a Mongol in the morning by no means we were unnoticed. However, society in the Mongolian steppe is not really impressive. The more we get closer to the spurs of the Gobi desert, the less vegetation and the fewer people and animals we meet. In the distance I notice a flock of camels and stalk me slowly with the Telezoom. After a short consultation with Cate we will drive to “Ulaan Suvraga”. It is a rock formation off the road. It’s a good opportunity to see what I can demand from Cate. Even the first meters are enough to see that Cate approached the matter with the right attitude in her head. The rest will be solved by a little bit of practice, and we are hoping for support in Dalanzadgad for her broken luggage carrier. However, Dalanzadgad will be remembered especially because to my astonishment I did not break my arm when a Mongol with a car pulled me into the barbed wire in the road ditch. Because of the hectic packed luggage I lost my laundry bag shortly afterwards. I would not have found it again without the requested pee stop by Cate.

The road to Bogd slowly feels like real desert. Also the stage to Bayangovi already offers some small sand chicanes. But it got worst when Cate wanted to cross the river bed against my recommendation. After that I ask myself if the 250 is not too weak. Cate did not have as much fun in the sand then I had. In Bayanlig the biggest advantage of my KTM is slowly becoming clear. Due to its size and height, the Mongols do not dare to sit up unasked. At Cates Honda this happens regularly. For the evening we bought peanuts. The nuts are uninteresting but the can can be a replacement for the lost baffle of the cooker. The wrench on the previous day worked only limited. The next stage after Biger again provides new chicanes, watergrooves run across the street. The first one we fly at nearly 80 km/h and the subsequent change of view says it all. We are throttling the speed, which will then be the fate of the next groove. With good 80km/h nothing would have happened. We camped shortly after that and started our first dung fire before. The navigation is again typical Mongolian on the next day. With a compass it can take quickly 50km until you notice that you took the wrong road, but also with the GPS you need 10km. The locals do not always give the right information. The most beautiful was when a lady with her little daughter as passenger guided us the way on her motorcycle. Before that, she gave us some homemade cheese which we rewarded with sweets. The next day these problems are gone, at Altai we reach asphalt again.

My motorcycle annoyed me before with start-up problems I could not explain them to myself until it let me down completely. I detected the loose plug-in contact of the ignition box. A little while later, it’s completely dead. I am incredibly grateful to Cate when she found a group of Mongols to support me, they all started to touch my partly disassembled motorcycle. However, she also distracted a part of them immediately, so I could find the faulty fuse in peace. In Khovd we meet Jörg and Kai again, with which we spend the evening and parts of the following day. The mountain road between Khovd and Tolbo is gorgeous. What we really can’t say about Ulgii, we decide not to stay here and continue to Russia. At the Russian border post we are unfortunately five minutes to late, please come back tomorrow. Our motorcycles stay in the border zone and we stay in a kind of mass camp which is called a hotel.

Russia

In Russia there are difficult decisions to made. Driving on mountain roads through the real Altai or save time on the main road. Due to bad weather the main road wins. The Road offers beautiful views at least before Gorno Altaysk. The chaos of Russian long-haul traffic dominates. No one cares about the other and who does not drive near the center line with the motorbike does not need to wonder if drivers, see it as a call for overtaking. Even if we had only two and a half day in Russia, I am pleased that Cate also gains a positive impression from the Russians. We don’t experience the hospitality which I know from Siberia but comparison is also somewhat unfair. The joy of Russia is clouded, however, since Onguday my engine noise is steadily louder and sounds suspiciously like a bearing damage.

Kazakhstan

In Kazakhstan our paths separate. A motor noise worries me so much that I decide to move forward quickly to reach Almaty faster. It is my hope that the problem can be solved by the time I have gained, in order to be able to carry on the journey in full. This hope dies after 150km shortly after Semipalatinsk. I am very grateful when Nurlan takes me home with his sprinter. Especially his son Raslan has great joy in my misfortune. I hope he holds the pocket knife which he has received in honor. In the evening, Father Anton takes me to his house. Anton is a Russian German and is happy about the opportunity to speak German again. His church is appropriately dedicated to St. Michael. In addition to the church and vicarage, the area also contains a soup kitchen, a sports field and also serves as a recreation area for the village youth. Anton has built up all this with a lot of initiative and donation aid. In the end, Anton reminds me very much to Don Camillo even if he rejects the comparison with the indication that he disputes with no one. Even though I am not a believer, his hint “The Lord gives us only what we truly need, what we don’t need truly, he will not give us either” helped me very much through the further hard time.

Nurlan and Anton helped me finding Maxim, Roman and Sanja to take me and my motorcycle on their trucks. When Maxim told me he had parked on a slope because his starter is broken I already expect the worst. On the same evening, however againt the expectation, the Sanjas DAF broke down four times. I was being put off again and again and after 2 days is clear I need another truck. If Maxim and Roman had not been so sympathetic, I would have followed Cate’s advice and had try to find another truck earlier. The farewell to the three is very warm and I will never forget the insight into the everyday life of a Kyrgyz truck driver. I continue with Viktor and his 30 years old Volvo.

Viktor drives incredibly long and I am optimistic to be able to say goodbye to Cate before she drives into the Pamir. When Viktor stops to unload before Almaty starts one of the worst days of the trip. The crane didn’t come on time, Viktor and I are frustrated, Cate will be gone when I arrive. When I discover black bumblebees I thought Nature consoles me and try to distract me with photography. Unfortunately, they fly away before I can make pictures. The crane comes and with it a thunderstorm it seems as is now nature also against me. As the crane lifts the first agricultural machine over my motorbike, I start to film, in order not to miss the moment in which the rope brakes and my motorcycle got dashed. With the second machine, I hope already that this happens but instead the storm is getting serious. My equipment is in the yard as pouring rain goes down and splashed the dirt of the ground all over it. I tried to help Viktor to install the tarpaulins. Viktors Russian instructions didn’t help me and so I had to accept that I am not useful to him. I only can wait in the driver’s cab until everyone else has done the work in the rain. A miserable feeling, which is only surpassed by the fact that the truck stucked in the mud at this location and we had to stay there for the night.




The next day I arrive at the lunch time in Almaty. Cate went on in the morning. She had solved a flat tire and a frame break during my Odyssey. The warm welcome at the Freeriders encourages me incredibly. With workshop, hostel, pub and bikeshop everything is gathered in one place which I need at this moment. My bad luck doesn’t stop, the first day after my arrival the workshop is under water. After the late disassembly, it is clear that the piston bearing is broken. A replacement engine would have a new engine number and generated not just additional shipping charges there will be also extra costs for the carnet. To rebuild the engine and make the motorcycle fine again had attraceted me anyway so I decided to try it. Fortunately, Roland from my workshop at home KTM-Müller in Waltenhofen does not let me hang. He supports me with professional advice and sends the needed parts in the express. I use the waiting time to do other things nevertheless it is still too much time. Parallel to me, Cate has a hard time on the Pamir and I feel responsive because I motivated her. It felt very good when Valentina and Matteo distract me a little. When Jürgen arrives I’m back on track, a motorcyclist who thinks similarly and with whom I can have fun. Together with the Freeriders team I assembled the engine again and can start after two days. I am very grateful to everyone. The feeling that in distress the people always stand aside is consoling over the now canceled Pamir Highway.


Meanwhile, Cate has successfully mastered her Pamir adventure. In addition to the driver’s challenges, she had to repair a broken forkseal, again a broken frame and the loss of mobile phone, actioncam and memory cards with the pictures. It fulfills me proudly that she mastered all these difficulties without me nevertheless I would rather have been there for her.


The repair of the engine is unfortunately a failure. After about 200km the engine goes out after a rattling of the chain. The engine loses oil but starts again. In the middle of nowhere, I have no other choice than continue, until the next sound which sealed the end of the valves. It takes a long time until Jarad arrives with his minibus. He takes me to Taraz and his brother Jubaniaz offers me the next two days accommodation. Again, my motorcycle is a kids playground. His daughter Janija and the neighbors Anella have a lot more fun with it than me. My special thanks go to the staff of the German Cultural Center Shambyl and especially to Nikolai. Without Nikolai I could not have sent my equipment, haven’t found Konstantin where the motorcycle is parked now and could not have convinced me at Customs of the impossibility of a quick solution. Visa, vacation, costs everything speaks against another attempt to repair the motorcycle, but I don’t want to give up and fly home. Not for Cate, not for anyone else, just for me, my pride and certainty for the future that I haven’t given up. While in all my past journeys the challenge lay in the driving strain, this time it will be the emotional burden. Without a motorcycle I lack the freedom I seek in the distance, I will not get around the permanent confrontation with my unhappy story and every day I will see Cate driving off with her motorcycle. My first adventure as backpacker can start.

Uzbekistan

Fortunately, Yuri, the husband of one of the ladies of the German cultural center, has to go to Tashkent and gave me a crash course in the use of public transport in Central Asia. We start in a minibus, changed to a shared taxi and drive with seventh others in a Chevrolet Damas. Seat belts are searched in vain for all means of transport. If they exist they do not work and are only attached to the belt buckle because of the seat belt duty. It takes some time until I get used to this lack of safety, the driving style of most drivers it’s would be more suitable to use harness straps, fire-resistant racing suit and helmet wear.

When changing money at the border I got a bundle as if you would pay your new car in 5€ bills. Even with 10,000 I received the largest available bills. Officially, their value is roughly 2 dollars on the black market you can get the same sum already for around 1.2 dollars.
Juri brings me to the train station and I’m lucky to get at least a first class ticket the second class is fully booked. Without him I would never had made it to Samarkand on time. I am very grateful to him for this and climb into the train with the pleasant anticipation to see Cate again after 18 days. On the train I meet Farhad who invited me to a private party and his friend Kolya takes me to the hostel. To my disappointment, Cate is not there. My time specification was one hour later, at the communicated time she appeared and we had a nice evening with Farhad, Kolya and her friends.
I arrive very slowly in the world of backpackers, the next day I realized that I left my best friend behind and will maybe see it never again. I am very happy that Cate splits temporarily from her new friends at the hostel and is there for me. The beauty of Samarkand cannot impress me on the first day also the many people are too much for me. It is a great relief that the well-informed Omar guided us through the city. With Felix, I get along a bit better and during the conversation I try to understand his way of traveling, which is now also mine. We visit the Registan, mosques, mausoleums, a minaret and a cemetery. In two days more culture than on any of my other trips. My Samarkand highlight remains however the purchase of a short pants. After much unsuccessful search, a taxi driver took me to a hidden bazaar, before we had briefly brought his son to sports. He goes shopping with me, negotiates the price and accepts in the end far less money than would be appropriate.

The next destination is Bukhara and I treated myself the first class train ride again. Out of the train I imagine I would run into a hot air fan. The sunglasses now don’t protect only from light but also from the direct hot wind. Logically, a taxi driver attaches to my heels and after an initial 25,000 sum I pay 8000 sum for the way to the hostel. Similar scenes will be repeated several times on the trip. I was very happy when I meet some motorcyclists at the Hostel. Lottie and Ryan www.saddlesorenomads.com are directly sympathetic to me. In the full noon, I decide to stroll through the city. Slowly go, take breaks, drink a lot and always keep the cap wet, than it is possible at 40°C and more. I am overwhelmed by the density of the historic buildings. It feels like you can expect the caravan that carries the goods. Before the Xo’ja Nurobod ko’chasi I meet Sunel with whom I visit a few highlights up to the Arc. The evening I spend at the hostel with Lottie and Ryan. Later I also meet Steve and Gilly Overlanding Family | A family of 4 driving around the world. who offer me to drive with them. Cate has reasonably avoided the heat of the day and arrives in the dark. We stroll through town and decide to return to Steves and Gilly’s offer in Nukus. The next day sightseeing and removing the nail from Cates tire. To check if the hose is damaged too, I remove the tire and damage the hose during assembly. Other hose the same game. I did the work with my levers a thousand times and never did something like that happen. My hands are shaking, I’m too nervous and ask Ryan to mount the tire with the patched hose. He succeeded immediately and I am happy that the situation is solved. Nevertheless, I feel as useless again as in the storm in Viktors truck.

A shared Taxi brought me to Khiva the next day and also Cate arrived soon after me. Even though Khiva is beautiful, the historic buildings are slowly hackneyed. I feel very pleased to meet Steve and Gilly again and decided to continue with them already on the next morning to Nukus. The trip from Khiva runs exactly as I expect it in a European-controlled truck in this mess traffic. Dead silence in the cabin every direction of view is observed and navigated by the driver and the passenger. Outside the city, the situation is relaxed and there is plenty of time for small talk. In Nukus we visit the museum of arts together and I went to the Bazar. When Cate arrived in the evening, I can confirm her that there is really no reason to visit this city.

The prospect of spending the next two nights in the desert raised my mood until Cate does not arrive at the agreed meeting point. Fortunately, only a technical problem her clutch slips and she can’t drive at full speed. A field repair failed on the unfortunate clutch cover. The evening with the Snaiths compensates however over the problems. The daughters Alisha and Lucy are obviously pleased with the variety in their travel company.

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Caspian Sea:


The next day we reach the border to Kazakhstan where Steve is eternally stopped because a border official does not want to accept that it is not a truck but a motorhome and therefore a car. We drive on and shortly afterwards the brake disc cover breaks on the truck. Steve explains that this happens regularly while I’m wondering that Cate does not miss us. Suddenly she gets out of a car she has found a nail again. I can’t really laugh about the following jokes that I bring misfortune, I feel long like cursed. As the truck drives again, we take Cates wheel to repair it in Beyneu. She successfully tramps with the motorbike and we arrived at the next campsite faster than expected. The sunset consoles the problems of the day. Before we reached Aktau the next day, however, the truck had a flat tire too. I start asking myself if I am going to endanger people when I go on the ferry to Baku.

In Aktau, of course, we will not be waved through directly into the ferry at the port. At least the vehicles can be registered in a bureaucracy orgy. Nobody knows when the ferry arrives. Afterwards, we went to a hotel with pool, after so much frustration something luxury feels just good. Apart from that the next day is my birthday. After original planning, I would have been already at home., I am very grateful to my manager Bernd that he has accepted two weeks of holiday extension, otherwise it would not had been possible to continue the journey meaningful. Cate sweetened my birthday breakfast with a cake and a bottle of vodka fit to the repdigit (In southern Germany these numbers are called spirit numbers, and it usual to drink some extra spirits on these birthdays). But on that day there is always the shadow hanging that we will soon no longer travel together due to the delivery time of the clutch parts. The following walk brings us to other thoughts and in the evening we go out with family Snaith. The children surprise me with homemade snakes and a card with a short poem.

During the waiting time I’m torn. There is also a plane from Aktau to Baku which costs hardly more than the ferry. I am very relieved as the ferry is no longer delayed and we can go. The waiting time after the arrival of the ferry is disproportionate and the condition of the ferry is worryingly bad. My streak of bad luck continues to pursue me. In my head, I have already left Cate the piece of driftwood, while I’m sinking exhausted in the Caspian Sea. Luckily just in my head. The company of the other travelers distracted me. Especially the hitchhiker couple Malin and Alex remains in my memory. Their videos compiled from rather unspectacular scenes are nevertheless exciting and I wonder if my constant desire for more spectacular targets is perhaps only stupid. Gilly also shows videos of her 4-year journey. The pictures make me very happy, it’s like a look in my own dreams.

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Azerbaijan:

In the middle of the night, the ferry arrives in Alat. 70km south of Baku. No accommodations no place to camp. Steve and Gilly impressed me when they invited all the backpackers in the truck and we all spontaneously go to the mud volcanoes. The imminent farewell is disturbing my mood. First, I’ll be separated from Cate, she will wait in Baku for the clutch parts, then from the Snaiths. Alisha has hidden a wristband in my camera bag. When I find it, I am very touched and must forebear tears. I will miss all five very much.

Milos a young Pole at least starts at the same junction as me. He gives me a short crash course in travelling as a hitchhiker and then he is already gone. A little while later I am lucky too. Salyan, Billasuvar are my first stops then ride to Masalli holds a few surprises ready. In the break I am invited to tea and the good mood is abruptly destroyed by a Hitler salute. The little boy next to me in the taxi gives me more pleasure. He is visibly curious about the stranger and with a few pictures on my phone, I can make him happy. Searching for Wifi I entered a cafe in which I immediately got access to the private network. I’m not allowed to pay for my food and got entertained by the guys with live singing. The curious experience ended soon and I left for Lankaran. My goal is to get rid of the remaining liquor on the beach. In Iran it is not welcome and the post refuses to send it home. With a bottle of cognac and a bottle of vodka, I’m not alone on the beach for long. Ibrahim is the first to who asked for a sip. He and his friends are very nice to me and we have a very nice evening. Fortunately, they manage to get me to the hotel even though I do not remember its name.

The next morning, I realized that I lost my notebook and my cellphone. On the recommendation of the reception I went to the police where Sahbala is willing to help me. We follow the traces of the day before and on the beach Ibrahim is already waiting with my cellphone. I am incredibly relieved and spend some time with him. The following cheek kisses demanded a little overcoming but kept in mind that I’m a guest of another culture. The rest of day is used for recovering. More than a little writing on the diary and attaching Alisha’s wristband is not possible. The next day I continue to Iran.

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Iran:

The start is unfortunately somewhat confusing. I am guided to different queues and my passport is inspected several times and passed around. The frontier officials are friendly and give me also tips to travel route. At the exit, taxi drivers and money changers bump into me like vultures. Until I got a reasonable exchange rate I must negotiate long. 1USD equals 32,650 Rials. The Iranians speak of 3,265 Toman. Because you won’t get anything under 1,000 Toman they speak often only of 1 Toman if they mean 1,000 Toman. In contrast to Uzbekistan, however, there are at least reasonable notes of up to 1,000,000 rial regarding to the exchange rate.
In my subsequent shared taxi also sits Saman a young soldier, who has just finished his service. Already after 15 minutes in the taxi he announces “I love you” I can explain that only with his very limited English vocabulary. He also had problems with using the Google Translator. I greatly appreciate his company up to Rasht. He brings me to the best hotel at the place in the assumption I would look for something like that. But at 130USD per night I don’t need to know the offered discount and moved on to Qazvin.

My accommodation in Qazvin is shabby and that I’m forced to leave my passport at the hotel in Iran resist me deeply. Also to get a SIM card is more complex than necessary and after few highlights (Chehel Sotun Palace, Bad Museum of Ghajar) I leave Qazvin annoyed towards Hamadan.

Opposite to my accomodation in Qazvin, At Winers place the Amaday Hostel I feel very comfortable and stay 2 days. The conversations with her, Urscha and Andrey an elderly couple from Slovenia are very nice. When Winer made the compliment that she thinks that I am very wise I feel flattered myself but also somehow old. My excursion with Andrew a backpacker from Australia makes my second day also interesting. At the Ganjnameh waterfall we reject the Schischa Angbot. The guys look so suspiciously relaxed that the risk is too big for us.
Halal

We are usually also addressed regularly by people that are happy about our visit and we are welcomed almost continuously. This continues also in my next station Teheran. The friendliness of the Iranians is in deep contrast to the propaganda against the USA, Saudi Arabia and Israel. The look of these stupid posters is repulsive to me and that they are tolerated makes it harder for me to belive the kindness of the Iranians. However, it’s an Azerbaijani immigrant who compares Iran and Germany because both are Aryans. To be positively confronted with the darkest chapters of German history is not a nice experience. My new travel group with Rose from Finland, Eeke from the Netherlands, Tom from Australia and Antti from Finland distracted me again soon. We had a lot of fun together and I am particularly grateful to the boys for the fact that they released my thoughts about sights and transport. As highlights, I can name the Darband Gorge, the Golestan Palace, an art museum, the Bazar and the former US Embassy. Especially the return from the Darband Gorge was special. Our unofficial taxi driver had an urgent need to entertain us well and turned the music so loud that I had to help myself with earplugs. Also the art exhibition of the Iranian lions needs getting used to. The title “Lion and Man”, “Lion and Sword”, “Striped Lion” burn in the head and the “Lion and Pipe” is the bottom. It was really just a pipe and a lion missing explanations. After that I really had enough of sightseeing and enjoyed the last evening on the roof of the hostel with the other backpackers. I overslept most of my flight. In the car of my father, I got the last bad news of the journey. While I was away our cat had to be euthanized, that it was raining the first week at home was then secondary. An ending like in the bad movie and for the first time I am not a bit happy to be back home.

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Conclusion

My concern was at first I would be bored by this average trip along the Silk Road. I had not expected a streak of bad luck of such epic proportions and I would have been definitely rather bored.

Why did I not give up in Kazakhstan?
Mainly giving up is simply not in my nature and I would not have forgave myself this unworthy end at home. Moreover, the visas for Uzbekistan and Iran would have been for nothing. Also relevant was the desire to apologize personally at Cate. My decision to drive alone to Almaty has annoyed and disappointed her deeply. We had a good time and I didn’t wanted it to end. It also attracted me to rebuild the engine and before the trip I already thought about a backpacker journey before.

Would I do it again?
Yes but not in the same way. Gilly said to me during the trip “You have an incredibly positive attitude to life” I never received a bigger compliment from anyone. But I must admit that I have consumed incredibly much of my positive energy. I was always motivated by the thought it can not only run badly, something positive must happen too. As a result, I often had exaggerated expectations that were not met and nobody got more of that frustration than Cate. I am indefinitely grateful to her for her patience and support. The very different travel experience also makes the community feeling more difficult. While so far the highlights always bonded the team together, Cate’s great highlight is the Pamir and mine are the people of Kazakhstan both experiences we did alone. The next time I would separate from my travel partners to avoid the tensions caused by the unequal travel conditions.

Will I travel again as a backpacker?
Not in this configuration. Without a motorcycle I was no longer free and bound to cities. Freedom and nature, however, are the reason why I travel with a light enduro and knobby tires. To see Cate driving away and arriving aggravated the feeling additionally. From other tourists I often felt just noticed as her sad shadow. With the other backpackers this was better but the road always remained an obstacle and no longer the reward. The extensive sightseeing in the cities is also not my world. On the other hand, the deep submergence in the population in public transport is attractive. I like the social life in the hostels very well. In the end, however, both experiences are similar to those with a motorcycle.

Was it worth?
Who has problems needs people. I have met a lot of incredibly friendly people and they will all stay in positive memories. My confidence in the people and the confidence that everything always continues is enormously increased. Someday, in my life, this experience will surely be very useful to me. I just hope that it will not be too soon. Especially for the time with Family Snaith I am very grateful. I was not expecting being integrated so kindly and the memory makes me still happy.

Whats about my bike?
The question is still open. The import is time-consuming the return transport is expensive so far nothing is decided. Currently, she is waiting in Taras at a prospective buyer for my decision about her fate.

Hints
The number of images has been reduced in favor of readability. More on my website there you will also find reports of more successful tours like the BAM last year.

Cates Journey still continues while i’m at home already. You can follow her blog on:

Auszeit – auf 2 Rädern

You would make me very happy if you decide to support her donation campaign as a small thank you for this report. If you have problems with the German forms don’t hesitate to contact me for assistance.

Auszeit auf 2 Rädern - SOS

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A great story, thanks for sharing (and for a good English translation!). The Freeriders in Almaty are well known for their help towards travellers, but did you know there are KTM agents in Almaty and Aktau who could have done the rebuild and sourced parts?

Thank you.

I knew about the KTM Dealer in Almaty and was already in contact with him. That there is also one in Aktau ist new to me. I decided mostly for the freeriders because i could stay close to my bike and do the most of the work on my own. Maybe that was not a good decision.

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