Shasliba, Nihao. (Almaty, Kazakhstan to Changji, China)

So there we were, poised to make our second miraculous escape from Kazakhstan – after being reunited with Xavi, we left his Almaty apartment with the requirement of needing to make up the 360km jaunt to China within 3 days in order to avoid having to register our visas again. Thinking it could be a bit of a slog, but do-able, we set off. But LITERALLY as Stu was crossing the T-junction next to the apartment (about 50 metres down the road), he got hit by a car side-on.

The Lady in Question !

Considering our very recent (bad) experience with car/bike collisions, we both lost it a little bit. I mean Stu was completely fine – with it being quite a slow speed crash – but because the guy who had hit me only two weeks earlier didn’t care and was just an utter moron, we sort of went straight back into dealing-with-an-idiot mode. After our venting, we realised that the crash had made a square out of his rear wheel, and torn apart one of his rear panniers. The police turned up out of nowhere, and we very quickly realised that our unadulterated British anger had made the lady who had hit Stu cry. Now we felt bad. She was so nice, and immediately took Stu to a bike shop to buy him whatever new stuff he needed. Sorted.

It turns out this was a bit of a blessing-in-disguise, because although now we’d have to register the visas – as we’d never make it out of Kazakhstan in two-and-a-half days, and to be honest it may have been a bit of a push in the first place – we could now tootle to the border without having to worry about rushing. So by the end of this day, after sorting out Stu’s bike and the visas, we were only able to make it just out of the busy, bumpy roads that lead out of Almaty.

The Scene of the Crime !

The next morning we awoke to the realisation that foxes had stolen all off our food. Nice one. I’d naively hung the food on a low-ish tree branch, and during the night some cunning fox had scratched the bag down and stolen EVERYTHING! We’d been out-foxed. Next time I watch Fantastic Mr. Fox I’m definitely cheering for the farmers ha. So hungry and cold, our journey continued on this bumpy road that would ultimately lead to the Chinese border. Some of the road was nicer to ride than other bits, but Kazakh roads are Joe Carnelly Average anyway, and we knew this by know. We never expected more.

About 30km into the day, as we were passing through a small farming village, I was called over to the side of the road by an American guy called Patrick. Once he’d asked all the usual questions, he nicely offered for us to camp in the grounds of his agro-centre about 70-odd kilometres down the road. And sure enough, 73 kilometres of ball-breaking headwind later we arrived at the town of Bayseit. We fairly efficiently negotiated the town’s central bazaar and found ourselves at the gates of the agro-centre, only we weren’t met by Patrick, but two burly security guards. They were expecting us, and one of them took us across the road to his family’s home, fed us some Plov (Kazakh rice dish), and gave us all a bed. Proper sound chap. We even had time to practice some English with his 4-year-old son.

Bayseit Bazaar

The security guard and his family really took care of us, and even made us some breakfast before hitting the road the following morning. The first challenge of the day was a tough 10km climb through Kokpek Gorge (which looked eerily like the scenery from ‘The Hills Have Eyes’), followed by some tricky cycling through Sharin Canyon National Park (which looked like a completely different planet), which was where we met Park Jemin and Jaeuk Kim.

Kokpek Gorge

Gangnam Style ?!

This pair had cycled to Kazakhstan from South Korea, and were relatively near the beginning (a year!) into their 6-year cycle tour around basically everywhere! After a wonderful group rendition of ‘Gangnam Style’ we said our farewells and parted ways – very nice guys. With the nights drawing in we shortly found ourselves a dingy little hotel, got woke up in the middle of the night by a fight in the hallway, then awoke to the smell of Xavi’s Catalan feet. And with this pungent aroma still hanging around the room, we made a hasty getaway and made decent headway on dangerous, narrow roads through creepy forests to our camping spot, a mere 20km from the Chinese border.

So, China day! But it wasn’t a good start – during the night it rained camels and dogs, and so now everything was soaking wet and/or frozen solid. As we attempted to pack everything away our fingers were so cold that it genuinely hurt through to the bone. Not pleasant. But as soon as we were on the bikes our worries of the cold and wet waned, as we remembered that we were on the final stretch of Kazakh road before China.

The border soon arrived, and from the moment you enter the border town on the Kazakh side (Khorgos) you feel like you’re entering a concentration camp – there are spotlights and military personnel everywhere. Our passports were checked on seven different occasions as we passed through the Kazakh side of the border. Everything was fine, so off we went across the 7km no-man’s land to China. As we cycled across this gap, we could see Chinese writing on all the tall buildings from the town on the Chinese side; felt really weird that we had actually got here! It was a bit of a longer (more official) process getting through into China than it had been across the former-Soviet states, and after our bags had been checked we were sent on our way. CHINAAA! Once we were through the terminal area and onto the street we were overwhelmed by a marauding horde of men, trying to change our money. Fortunately Stu and I had ran out of Kazakh Tenge a days ago, and were now relying solely on our sugar-daddy Xavi Narro for funds, so as soon as we told the masses that he had the money (ha), a five-deep circle of people surrounded him. I don’t think they gave the best exchange rate, but to be honest we didn’t really have time to shop around; we just wanted to get rid of the Tenge, and get hold of some Yuan.

The picture I was sneakily able to take at the Chinese Border!

After a long day getting through the Kazakh-China border, we left the border town in hope of finding somewhere to camp. We rode for about 17 miles on silky smooth Chinese highway before taking a turn-off to find ourselves a campspot in a cornfield.

A Cold and Frosty Morning !!!

In the morning we woke up bright and early so that we could make a prompt start to the day. However, we hadn’t realised that when we entered China the clocks go forward two hours (so eight hours ahead of GMT), and so we inadvertently awoke two hours too early. We only realised after doing all of our usual morning organisation, and then realising that it was still dark. Eurghhh, so back to sleep for a couple of hours. But when we did arise we were only too aware of the daunting task that lay ahead – a 45-mile climb up Sayram Hu pass through the Borhoro Shan mountains to Lake Sayram Hu. And it was mental…

Mountaiiins !!

Bridge across the top of Borhoro Shan Mountains !

Near the top !

Stu at Lake Sayram Hu

As amazing as the climb was though, we arrived at the top VERY tired, EXTREMELY cold, and starving. Also, we were out of food, and there was only about an hour of light left. Facing a horrendously cold night at 2100m, surrounded by snow and ice in Xinjiang in November, we realised we just had to keep cycling. But it was obvious we were all concerned – being without food and knowing that the temperature would drop to -20C and possibly beyond during the night was pretty scary, we weren’t prepared. However, halfway around the lake we came across a tiny settlement of about three or four buildings, and thought ‘we’ve got to ask if we can stay here!’ We approached the side window of the first building, where we saw what seemed like a family having dinner. We knocked and out came a very pleasant brown-toothed Uygur man, who seeing our despair invited us in for salty tea and stale bread, and offered us a place to rest our heads. Sarcasm aside, we were very grateful, and they even gave us some snacks before hitting the road the following morning.

Ambergate-on-China

The next few days passed much the same. Upon waking we’d usually have somewhat of a stomachache as a result of our perennial failure to ask for Chinese food without chilli! We’d then ride for 6-7 hours into a bitter and ferocious headwind (although the roads are MUCH better than Kazakhstan), with temperatures rarely reaching anything warmer than -5C – even in the middle of the day – meaning all day the water in our bottles would be frozen solid, and we’d be lucky to feel our finger or toes. This would be followed by the guaranteed challenge of trying to find a hotel that would let us stay there (we now have to try to stay in hotels or guesthouses every night as it’s far too cold for camping). The challenge is that we are unable to stay at anything but the biggest, baddest hotels in town, which there is usually only one of. Logical Chinese law states that foreigners can only stay in 4*, 5* or International hotels ‘for their own safety’. Own safety?! This law, and the reasoning behind it, is completely ridiculous, as on occasions we’ve been faced with the prospect of sleeping on the street in -15C temperatures because we’ve been turned away from ‘only’ 3* hotels. Safer?? Definitely not.

But anyway, we usually find a way around this bureaucratic juggernaught. Sometimes we just have to stay at the rare 4* hotels (which to be fair are only about £20-a-night – bargain), and other times we’ve had to coerce flirty receptionists, sneek in side doors, or slum it in dingy cafes. Whatever happens though, we’ve not yet failed to find ourselves some evening warmth.

Just Chilling

Funnily enough though, as I write this we’re actually in one of those rare 4* gems, in a city called Changji (35km West of Urumqi, Xinjiang Province). On the map Changji looks like a village, as it appears on the map to be the same size as the places that actually were villages in Kazakhstan. However, when you get there you realise it is just a full-on city – Derby-kind of size, or sometimes bigger. This really does give you a sense of the enormity of the Chinese population, because even in seemingly unheard of areas of the country – far from the tourist traps – there are still hundreds of these unknown cities.

We’ll be heading for the Turpan depression (not because its sad) tomorrow, so hopefully we’ll be getting plenty of deserved descending. And I’d just like to apologise again for the delay since our last posting – sorry. WordPress (along with Facebook, Twitter, Youtube, etc) are all banned in China so this blog would have reached you via an email to our Mum, and then her posting it. So we’ll still be able to get blog entries up, but they might be more sporadic and longer when they do get posted.

Also, we’d just like to say a huge thank you to everyone who has already donated through our blog or otherwise. We’re nicely over the £1000 mark now and we’re hoping to keep this growing. So thanks again, and to people who haven’t had chance, please consider donating – TEACH are an amazing frontline charity, and all money goes directly to them. Or failing that, please attend our fundraising night at The Approach in Nottingham on Thursday 29^th November (see previous post for details).

Bonjour!