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Some bold communist architecture outside Goliston, Uzbekistan. To achieve this goal I was forced, by circumstance, to ride well in to the darkness of night against my better judgement. I headed north out of Samarkand towards the town of Jizzakh and had one of my first good days on the road in a month. No wind, half-decent tarmac and very gentle climbs and descents. A beauty of a day as I was now fully over the food poisoning and I smashed out the km to Jizzakh hardly even taking a break along the way. I had a bit of a run around in Jizzakh trying to find somewhere to stay as, despite there being several hotels in town, none had a licence to accommodate foreigners. I was off again the next day heading for the town of Goliston keen to keep picking up registration slips when possible. As I headed out of town I had a lovely 50km stretch on a road of perfect tarmac, no traffic and a huge tailwind…. Thanks to covering this 50km super fast I reached Goliston at about 2pm and went in search of a hotel. The first I found looked pretty dodgy and seemed to be part of what appeared to be a strip club. After relaxing and showering Akand suggested grabbing some beers and food in the cafe across the street, sounds good! As I got my wallet out Akand insisted the meal and drinks were on him! Turns out this cheap hotel was equipped with a pool and sauna which after doing a few rounds in each we sat down and proceeded to get pretty drunk. Thanks to this I had no idea what he was talking about and ended up going to bed in quite a state at about midnight. Shortly after riding out of town I spotted what looked like a Meerkat of some sort…. Squirrel or Meerkat? The hangover lingered and I cooked up a big lunch of noodles and tuna to try and remedy it. I rode around town asking about a hotel and finally found one. Frustratingly the staff said the hotel was fully booked that night as they were hosting both teams of a football match that was going on. The people working in the hotel had that annoying trait some people have where they are not very forthcoming with the information you clearly require, the conversation In Russian went something like;. Thankfully one of the members of staff was more helpful and explained it was a couple of kilometres and to follow his car. I was shortly in the lobby of the most Soviet relic hotel I have ever been in. I was taken to an office in the hotel to register my passport and it was all very reminiscent of being sent to the head of year at school. I had to wait outside, knock and be invited in to sit at a chair that for some reason was not facing the desk in the office. I was questioned and had to show all my registration slips for Uzbekistan as well as explain where I planned to sleep on the rest of my trip. This was all noted down and photocopied, crazy! Finally once this was all done I was asked what room did I want? A lot of hotels here seem to have 2 or 3 levels of comfort but to make things extremely confusing this one had 15 differently priced options. My bottom of the pricelist room in Alamlyk, Uzbekistan. And what a room I got! To be honest I was very happy as the room had a bath tub and hot water, a magical combination I have not seen since I left London. I was quickly dismayed to find there was no bath plug but then remembered duct tape solves everything and quickly taped up the drain. I popped out to buy some supplies and was surprised when the main behind the counter ask if I was cyclist. With a shocked expression I said yes and he said the only foreigners who come to this town are cyclists. Up the next morning and I only planned to ride a short 50km to the town of Angren. I knew there was a hotel there and this would set me up for a km day to Kokand in the Fergana valley the next day. This meant I needed to setup my route so I would definitely land in the hotel in Kokand on the same day that I went through the military checkpoint that marks the start of the Fergana valley region. There is a large mountain pass separating Fergana from the rest of Uzbekistan and I had heard the checkpoint was near the top of the climb. This info. As I rode out of Almalyk I saw this interesting communist statue. The guy on the right seems to represent Russia and he has his hand on the back of a guy who is a conservative Uzbek Hard to tell in the photo but he is wearing a the local style muslim skullcap as well as traditional dress. Communist statue on the road north out of Almalyk, Uzbekistan. This seemed stupid so I decided to ride on another 40km or so and camp at the bottom of the big climb over the mountain. Traffic queue from the main military checkpoint into the Fergana region. When I got to the front I noticed it was a military checkpoint. I was stopped and directed over to a little window. I started to think that this might be the Fergana checkpoint but it was way earlier than I expected? Before I knew it I had been registered and told I must stay in a hotel that night. Uh Oh. The next hotel I knew of is not for about km with a fat mountain in the way. Scenery on the road towards the big climb, Uzbekistan. I decided I would camp at the bottom of the big climb over the mountain as I figured I could probably get away without registering that night, it would mostly be important to not have a gap in my registration slips from after the first night I spent in the valley until I exit. I reached a small cafe right at the bottom of the climb and strangely bumped into a Spanish Engineer who was surveying the works to widen the road I was on. He said not to worry though, there is a hotel before Kokand just a few km over the top of the pass. I crawled up the 12km of the climb at an average of 6kmph fuelled by cartons of Nesquik chocolate milk and oatmeal cookies. The view back down from near the top was something special…. View down from near the top of the climb, Fergana, Uzbekistan. Just after this shot I hit the first of the two tunnels that cut off the top of the climb. At the entrances and exits to both the tunnels I was stopped my military, had to show my passport and was questioned about where I was staying. I mentioned the Hotel Karvon a few km down the rode and they nodded, confirming its existence which was a relief. I rolled down the hill, reached the hotel and asked the owners in the Cafe if I could stay, they said yes. Perfect, km and a huge climb, a good day. I hung out relaxing in the Cafe for about 90 minutes during which time a couple of old guys invited me over to have tea, bread and salad with them. Feeling tired I decide to check in to my room as it was getting dark and at this point the owner suddenly said that there is no hotel. Yes there is I can see it. I explain my problem and they said I have to cycle 70km to Kokand to register. The owner at this point becomes completely unsympathetic to my problem. I explain that by not letting me stay she has signed my death warrant forcing me to ride down a busy mountain highway at night. I stepped outside looking dejected with every patron of the cafe staring at me as I mounted my bike and rolled off down the mountain. I stopped in the next cafe I saw and, whilst they were sympathetic, said that I would have to go to Kokand, there is no choice. I rolled off into the fading light aware that my headlight is plenty bright in the darkness but nowhere near powerful enough to overcome the dazzling headlights of an oncoming vehicle which would blind me temporarily. The only thoughts going through my mind in a loop for the 50km descent off of the mountain were;. For 20km of this I followed behind a truck riding at just the correct speed and found myself irrationally angry when he pulled into a cafe for a break. I finally hit the flat and went past a sign saying 22km to Kokand and promptly got stopped in another military checkpoint who seemed surprised to see me. The first guy returned with my passport and asked me questions about where I was staying whilst I was stuffing more cookies into my mouth. They finally let me off and I rode the next 2km with my spare torch in my mouth shining on my cycling computer so I could see the magical moment it ticked over to km, the first century mile day of my cycling life! They really help brighten up the lives of a lot of children with serious illnesses. I finally reached the centre of Kokand and praised the GPS on my phone for getting me to my hotel without getting too lost, the final distance for the day was I hardly left my room the next day only venturing to the shops to buy more and more food and drinks. It is hard to explain how I felt the next day. The best I can come up with is the weakness and frailness of a hangover but without the headache and replace the nausea with a raging appetite. If you are wondering why the security in this region is so tough it seems to mostly stem as a result of the Andijan massacre , an event in where Uzbek security forces opened fire on a crowd of protestors killing an estimated 1, people. This event also pretty much destroyed the countries previously very friendly relationship with the United States and resulted in the closure of a huge US military base that was generating half a billion dollars a year in rent for the Uzbek government. A gonbsmackingly modern feeling city, not too far off the atmosphere of the coastal resort Batumi in Georgia I visited a few months ago. The main sight in the city is the Khudoyar Khan Palace. Khudoyar had this palace built as a home for himself and his harem of about women. Now I know what you might be thinking, Islam allows 4 wives, not Khudoyar seemed to think he found a loophole by having an Imam perform 24 hour marriages with which ever of his harem he wanted to spend the evening with. A mere two years after finishing the palace Khudoyar was exiled by his people and took refuge with his allies the Russians. Instead of helping Khudoyar reclaim his Khanate the Russians simple wandered in and took the territory for themselves. Kokand, Uzbekistan. I stepped out the front to try and do a quick sketch of the building but was quickly descended upon by a huge crowd of people all wanting to chat with the foreigner and see what he was drawing. After about 20 minutes of this my energy was waving so I said thanks and goodbye with a smile, packed up my drawing equipment and started to walk off only to find everyone was following me. I upped my pace and took a weird route through the park and still every one followed. Intricate wooden door on a back street in Kokand, Uzbekistan. This short stint will have me visiting a fine ceramics workshop in Rishtan as well as a Silk Bazaar near Margilon which should give some interesting fuel for my next post. Next to explain a fairly significant change of route for the next section into China than I originally envisioned. My original route would actually have me entering China in a mere 5 days! The original route from Osh, Kyrgyzstan to Urumqi, China is marked in blue and the new route is in red…. Why the change? The ultimate reason is this route removes about km of cycling in China. Normally I have rough plans for the next month or so of my trip and as of my planning session last night this now includes China. I also want to divert the interest this trip generates towards helping out a charity that made a big differance to some friends of mine. Samuels Children Charity are a Lewes based charity providing support to families throughout the UK who are currently affected by childhood cancer. Home About me. James Finnerty. Kokand, Uzbekistan to Osh, Kyrgyzstan — miles 6, total ». Akhangaran reservoir, Uzbekistan. Main street in Kokand, Uzbekistan. Route options, Osh-Urumqi. Like Loading Categories London to Shanghai , Uzbekistan. Search for:. Blog at WordPress. Comment Reblog Subscribe Subscribed. Sign me up. Already have a WordPress. Log in now. Loading Comments Email Required Name Required Website. Design a site like this with WordPress.

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