The first thing I do in Hungary is storming the local bakery. The coffee culture is big in Hungary and according to that I have a lot of cycling stops along the day. Another positive thing is the well signed and maintained Danube cycling path. It’s easy to avoid heavy traffic and find small and quiet roads along the way. Like on the Balkans I want to progress again and don’t find real joy in travelling and cycling anymore. The trip from China is long and hard and some days are freezing cold. I am tired of sleeping in dormitories, cycling through cold wind and changing location almost every day. After a longer stop in Budapest I have another five days to Austria ahead of me.

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I decide to visit my old friend Martin, who settled with his wife and six kids, in a vineyard right next to the Slovakian border along the river March. I have a great time there playing with the kids and learning about the whole wine manufacturing. After a few days stay I take off on my last cycling day into the capitol city of Austria Vienna.

My trip ends here. I am home in my country and due to the harsh and cold weather conditions in December, I decide not to cycle home to Innsbruck.

Cycling out of Istanbul isn’t any easier then cycling in a few days ago. The traffic is very intense like on the eastern side of the metropolis. Dino and I still cycle together for a day and after our last Iskender Kebab and a big hug we say good luck and good bye to each other. He continues cycling west to Greece and I turn north towards Bulgaria. The landscape between Istanbul and Edirne is boring and monotonous. Everything is basically a big field. This changes immediately, coming into Bulgaria. The land management is patchy which makes the scenery more diverse. Little forests, small fields and on the horizon I spot some mountains again. Though, I have not much sense for nature and travelling anymore. The only thing I want is to progress. Winter is coming in big steps and still I have the plan to come home before Christmas. For that I have to cross the Balkans as fast as possible.

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Still there are some nice cities on my route. I stay in Plovdiv, Sofia and Belgrade for a while. All those cities have European flair and invite you in to relax and enjoy your stay.

Cycle through Turkey together with Dino, an Italian cyclist coming from Mongolia. It is good to have company during the long and enduring stretches along the northern Turkish coastline. The stage from Georgia to Istanbul can be divided in two completely different parts. The eastern part, where the road is flat and progress fast and the western part, where the street goes up and down all the time. Right in the middle lays the historic town of Sinop which is, with its city wall and harbour definitely worth a visit.

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The road along the Black Sea is very scenic, especially the western part, which shows less traffic as well. But super hard from the cycling point of view. We have several days just reaching 65km at sunset. But finally and happily we reach, better survive the ride, into Istanbul. It was a great feeling to cross the Bosporus and reach Europe!

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In Achalziche I meet Dino an Italian cyclist and we decide to travel together for a while. We cross through some of the nicest landscapes of the Caucasus. Valleys are rough, mountains high and trees are changing to autumn colours. At Goderzi Pass we encounter a new companion travelling with us. His name is John Snow, he is a dog and joins us for a few days. We feed him and he guards our tents and bikes overnight. The rest of the time we play around and have fun. The big cities are nothing for a free dog, so he decides to stay behind and returns to the mountains. Good luck John!

Entering Armenia by bicycle is only possible from the North or from the South. Borders to Turkey and Azerbaijan are out of historical reasons closed. So I cross the former Soviet Union border into Armenia from the south. First thing I realize was a Russian flag, set on half-mast. Everywhere Russians, still controlling this border. I remember that I have read, that also the Tajik border was controlled by Russian soldiers and they just handed over control to the local authorities in-between the last few years. The first soldier controls my passport, he speaks some German and greets me a bit old fashioned, like people did in the forties. My thoughts are: Let’s just get away from the still highly guarded border river, find a place to change money and to stay save overnight.

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The next day the weather clears up and Armenia is ready to be explored. The country felt like a mixture of Eastern Europe and my home Austria. It’s very mountainous, especially southern Armenia. Let’s say, you cycle the whole day and look at your speedometer in the afternoon and it says 30km done, you know you are in Armenia. With all the heavy load I am climbing up to 4 hours every day. Some roads are new, but some sections are still gravel. The cycling is pretty intense and demanding but everything else a real pleasure.

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The country is full of surprises due to its long historical heritage. It has still a lot of wild nature and I find amazing spots for overnight camping. The people are discreet and respect your privacy but are very helpful once you exchange a few words. After a day of hard climbing I reach the small mountain village of Tatev. The place is known for its nearby built monastery out of the 9^th century. I arrive late and enjoy a big dinner, it is getting dark and I still have no overnight stay. The owner of the restaurant offers me to camp behind the building and I am glad to have a spot. I set up camp and dead tired I get ready to fall asleep into my sleeping bag. But then good old grandpa is heaving his Saturday night chill out music disaster. A mixture of opera and Italian beat-music. It is so loud that even the local fauna is fleeing to the neighbouring valley. I ask how long this nightmare usually lasts and the people tell me, till midnight or one in the morning. No way I can stay here! I start packing everything again. The tent, the sleeping bag, all my gear gets ready for escaping. Fully packed and no idea where to go, the people from the dinner table ask me what I’m up to. I say no idea, need to find a place for the night. I cycled six to seven hours and need to rest. But this is impossible next to grandpa’s private concert. So right away they offer me a spot on their holiday house couch. I accept happily and finally the odyssey comes to a good end and I enjoy a deep sleep.

After a few days I reach the capitol city Yerevan. People say Yere”one” the number one city in the world. Ok it’s not the best city in the world, but it has flair and a nice centre. With its cafes, restaurants and boulevards it’s perfect for a few days of rest. Time is running and to be home before Christmas I head off north straight towards the Georgian border.

Cycling wise, I am a bit fitter again then I was in Uzbekistan. Azerbaijan is still very hot but flat. I only cycle there for two days. I want to reach Iran as soon as possible, because my last Iran entry day is coming soon.

Azerbaijan is a very liberal country. No dress code and alcohol is not banned. Iran is stricter in these points. Women and also men have to follow a dress code. Man for example have to wear long trousers. Once on the road its ok though to cycle in (wide) shorts. I just cycled the north of Iran and found out that there are no Persian people living there. All the people are Azerbaijani. Even the regions in the north of Iran are called West- and East- Azerbaijan. Time flies and I want to be home before Christmas, so I decide to just visit Iran for a short while and go into Armenia soon. I could not go from Azerbaijan directly because Azerbaijan and Armenia aren’t best buddies.

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I do a loop south to Tabris, to at least experience one big Iranian city. The city is crowded and very busy. I meet Hamed an Iranian dude studying in Austria. He showed me around the city and introduced me to the local food and the hammam in the town centre.

The ride out north of Tabris is a real jewel! The road climbs up and overlooking the wild northern Iranian mountains with its green valleys makes the cyclists heart pump faster.

It’s all about cities in Uzbekistan. The Uzbek people preferred to settle for centuries, while other central Asian people decided to stick to their nomadic lifestyle. You can feel that, visiting the rich on culture Uzbek cities. Just check out the pictures and you will see.

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Uzbekistan is super-hot to cycle and I am still sick coming from the Pamir HWY. Somehow I don’t recover and cycle around half-sick all the time. Also I cannot go, as planned, through Turkmenistan. I run out of visa time in Uzbekistan and have to take a train. Yes it’s really true, I have to take a train! What a disaster! Not easy for me, because I wanted to cross all Asia by bike. I feel like hiking a high mountain and taking the helicopter up a stretch, because climbing seems to be a bit tough. But as soon as I am in the train things aren’t that serious anymore. I guess that’s what a world trip is also good for, changing plans and accepting things turning the other way. After torturing myself on the bike through the south of the country, Uzbekistan turns out to be a sightseeing event. I take it easy and just enjoy my time with good company.

The train ride takes me back to Kazakhstan to the port town of Aktau and from there by ferry over the Caspian Sea to Azerbaijan.

So far the toughest cycling on this trip was Bolivia. Concerning this I have a new favourite now: “Tajikistan”. Height, climate, food quality Tajikistan beats Bolivia or at least equals it. It was almost the same height, similar climate and the food was almost as bad. A perfect country for a new adventure!

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Times are tough but good company was at hand. Already in Kirgizstan I ran into Eleonore, a French cyclist travelling since Vietnam, also heading towards Tajikistan. We both wanted to cycle the magic sounding “Pamir HWY”. The Pamir HWY runs from Osh to Dushanbe, through one of the most remote areas of central Asia and has several over 4000m high mountain passes. There are a few routes through the Pamirs, the longest leads you along the Wakhan corridor (Wakhan valley) about 700km along the Afghan border. That’s a very beautiful stretch with wide views over to Afghanistan and the Pakistani mountains called the Hindukush in the background. Eleonore and I shared same ideas about where to travel and moved same speed, so we decided to continue on that adventure together.

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It was indeed an adventure. The first 4 days after starting from Osh (Kirgizstan) have only one motto: Climb, climb, climb. After four passes we reach the Kyzyl which is the border of Kirgizstan and Tajikistan. Then we were on a high plateau which made cycling easier, but sleeping much harder. The province is called Badachshan and is with its 200 000 people in an area as big as Belgium very low populated. We cycle through wide open landscape surrounded by up to six, or even seven thousand meter high snow covered mountains. Pik Lenin was unfortunately hiding behind thick clouds so I could not spot it. We camp out in the wild, cook more or less delicious food and fight against the strong winds together. People are helpful and friendly on the way. One time we ask a woman if we could sleep somewhere around the house in our tents. She waved us in and prepared a bed for us, to take a nap. Later we camped outside her house, which was no problem at all. We prepare dinner and enjoy a save spot for a night. There are not many towns with support on the way. In small villages you ask for a “magazine”, which are small shops with very basic shopping options. Sometimes they just sell cookies, candy and some rice. In the two bigger towns Murghab and Khorog we explore the bazar and stock up with noodles, sweets and fresh fruits. Unfortunately I get sick, seems to be a part of the Pamir adventure. High fever forces me to stop and recover.

Eleonore is cycling on, she needs to get into Turkmenistan and is slowly running out of time. After a few days rest I also continue to Dushanbe, the capitol city of Tajikistan. Temperatures climb up to 40° and I am happy to take a rest for a few days enjoying the amenities a big city has to offer.

Check out this video, Eleonore produced:

Kirgizstan gets a gold medal in free camping! The country is amazing. High mountains, wide valleys and only very few people make Kirgizstan the perfect playground for adventurers. I cycle on the “famous” M41 from the capitol city Bishkek to Osh, a town further south. I changed my cycling routine a bit. In the morning I get going as usual, take more time during the day and cycle till eight or nine in the evening. This is necessary because the temperature in the lower areas climbs up to over a 40° Celsius. It’s baking hot and I rest over the lunchtime hours somewhere hiding under a tree. Up in the mountains though everything is different, it’s colder, even freezing cold once you reach elevations over a 3000m. The Kirgiz people still keep their nomadic lifestyle high up there. Taking care of their herds, living in yurts and mostly riding around on horses. One night I stayed with a family getting introduced to their lifestyle, which seems like it stays the same over the centuries.

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After Osh I will leave the lowlands. The famous “Pamir Highway” lies ahead with high over 4000m passes, wild landscapes and lonely roads. But that’s another chapter, because the Pamir Highway runs mostly through the Gorno-Badakhshan autonomous region of Tajikistan.

My last minutes in China, or will it be hours? The authorities check my passport again and again. Why so many different Chinese visas? How long did I stay, here, there…? Travelling is expensive, how do I finance all this? Finally the stamp crashed into the document and I was able to move a few steps further. Then again, “Passport!”, “You left to Austria, why is there no exit stamp from Austria in my passport?” Alright, again the whole story and the info that there are no more stamps given in Europe. So finally out of the border post. Outside the soldiers take over. My name and dates in a list and I should wait. The Kazakh border is 30m away. It’s a small bridge over a non-existing river. Me and my bike baking in the heat. It seems my inner tubes reached their live expectancy and I had several flat tires cycling over the highways of Xinxiang province. After a certain point it’s just time to change them. The patches fixing the wholes don’t stick in the heat, like they are supposed to. So I stand here, as I said baking in the heat and suddenly, with one final blow, the air went out of my rear tire again.

I cannot exit the country on the bicycle and have to wait till a bus stops, load the bike, drive 30m over the bridge, unload in Kazakhstan and then continue cycling. After a while one soldier, in an unbelievable moment of self-initiative, gave me a sign to just move on. I should push the bike over the border. Alright, let’s go then. Slowly and with the crushing noise of rubber over hot asphalt, I push my bike forward. Finally, 5m before the bridge, a shout from the watchtower. Something like “stop”. After a crosscheck with the other soldiers then the final sign, ok move on and I am out!

So my first act, after one and a half year in China, was fixing a flat tire again. Then on, through a long loop to the Kazakh border post. It reminds me of old James Bond movies I used to watch when I was a kid. The uniforms of the soldiers, the military cars, everything pretty soviety. Entering the country is fairly easy. In Kazakhstan everyone shakes hands, so did the border guard. “Do you have gun?” he asks me, I reply “No”. Shaking his head implausibly, looking at my camping gear, asking “Are you afraid?”, my reply “Yes”. We both share a laugh and him clapping on my shoulders saying “Welcome to Kazakhstan!”

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My first cycling day in central Asia! I have not much knowledge about the countries and its people, it’s goanna be a big surprise ahead. A good surprise I have to say. The people are very helpful and straight forward. Communicate in Russian, which I don’t speak, but also with hand and feet and we make each other understood. The best thing though, no one says I look like Jason Statham and no one wants to take pictures with me!

I feel like entering (eastern) Europe. Old Lada cars everywhere, probably driving for ages, the road a bit bumpy and the food like at home. Can’t stop eating puree for the first few days. Actually I am still eating it every day. My first town on the radar is Zharkent. I check in at a nice place and give myself a rest, after an over 4000km mountains and desert ride.

I cannot rest for too long here. My first big aim is to reach Almaty and there I have a special mission. I need to fix all the visas for central Asia and this is going to be a long and nerve racking process. It’s a 350km ride and I empty the batteries, knowing I have enough time to rest and get fresh again. I cycle along a new built highway. It must be an elongation of the brand new highways in China on the new and old trade route called the “Silkroad”. All these roads recently built, I can’t find them on my map or on my phone. No cars around because the construction is still running. But the workers always wave me through … “Almaty, Almaty …!”, so I am sure I’m on the right track. On the second day I see big dark clouds on the horizon. I stop and put on my rain jacket. Just in case I think. A weather front is approaching. The wind got stronger and some rain set in. Suddenly the wind got so strong that I thought I have to lay me and my bike down to the ground. The sand corns are nailing my face. A little tree was passing me horizontally and I had to hold my bike from flying back to the Thianshan mountains. Usually I find an underpass, to camp or to rest, every few hundred meters. But where is the bloody underpass now when I really need it? I had no other option to just find shelter in-between the guardrails of the new built highway. Suddenly a truck comes by and stops a few meters down the road. Shifting gear and coming back. Out comes a Kazakh guy named Dino and without discussion and after a quick greeting we load my bike in the rear and my bags in the front. Opening the front door is just possible with full body usage fighting against the wind. My basic motivation on this trip is to cycle everywhere and not loading on busses or trains. But I will not follow this basic rule stupidly. Sometimes I take a boat or in this case I load on a truck. Dino is a funny guy in his mid-thirties, somehow we manage to communicate and he drops me off at a hotel 20km down the road. The storm turned into heavy rain and out of the hotel room I watch the rain drops hammering the asphalt, just being happy to be saved by this helpful soul.

The next day the weather turns good again and hunted by two big shepheard dogs I speed out of town. But the wind isn’t in my favour and slowly I progress and manage to do only 50km that day. Stopping in a small town, I refuse to check into a really overpriced hotel. I sit around and wait what’s going to happen. A mechanic speaks some English and we joke around a bit. He calls his sister, she is an English teacher and wanted to talk to me. We had a little chat and a few minutes later I got an invitation for an overnight stay. The name of the mechanic is Islam (his brother’s name was Muslim, really easy names to keep in mind) we lock all my gear in the garage and take a taxi to Islam’s house. Right there I get greeted by the family, invited in and had a delicious Kazakh dinner. All the generations shared the house and the star was the little new born girl smiling, exploring and giggling around.

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The next day I reach Almaty, check into a nice hostel and make myself comfortable for a few days. Now the big run starts. Visas for Iran, Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan and Tajikistan need to be fixed. It’s a nerve wrecking hassle. Especially the embassies of Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan are not a pleasure to visit. Their favourite word seems to be “ЗАВТРА – Zavtra” (tomorrow). Things go back and forth and after managing to hand in all the paperwork, I already start cycling on to Kirgizstan’s capitol city Bishkek. But a few days later I come back into Almaty by bus to collect the visas. I get to fix Uzbekistan, but at the Turkmen embassy I only hear “refused”. No reasons given. Turkmenistan is a closed country, people say it’s the North Korea of central Asia and it’s very hard to get a visa. Especially in the last weeks the refusal rate was pretty high. No one knows really why or on what criteria visas are granted or not. People seem to get rejected randomly, no matter of their age, sex or nationality. I think it depends on the person checking your paperwork. If he likes your face you are in, if not it’s a “Nyet!” That is a downer. I need to make new plans now. But still I will give it a try and ask for the Turkmen visa in Bishkek again.

The rest of the time I was hanging out with people from the hostel or at “Nedelka” coffee house (check it out once you are in Almaty). I was mountaineering a bit and doing a thing called “sightseeing”. Almaty is a great city. I feel like being back in Europe. They have chees, coffee, salad … all things I missed so much over the last months and the girls, oh my god, are one of the most pretty in the world!