Would you like to marry my daughter........? Denge, denge........!


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Asia » Tajikistan » Khorog
October 29th 2013
Published: October 30th 2013
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Khiva to Khorog

Khiva - Bukhara - Samarkand - Dangara - Kitbol - Shuroabad - Khostav - Kailakhum - Baravin-Tar- Rushan - Khorog (Total Distance 13900 Km/Approx 8400 miles)

Before I enlighten you about my wedding propositions I wish to wind back a few weeks to my time in Uzbekistan, where I last updated you on my cycling adventure.

Leaving Khiva behind I cycled east to the famous city of Bukhara. It was here that two British Army Officers Stoddart and Conolly were beheaded in the Emir's Ark during the 1800s. British and Russian Army Officers sent out to explore the routes traversing Central Asia including the Khyber pass etc affectionately called this spying "The Great Game". The author Peter Hopkirk writes a fascinating book about the subject, where Britain and Russia competed against one another for commercial trade and Central Asia effectively became the buffer zone between the 2 powers with Russia to the north and Britain as part of the East India Company to the south.

Arriving in Bukhara, I stayed at Madina's hostel where incidentally two Russians Vladamir and Vitali were staying for the night. It turned out that these guys were both professional photographers, who are currently making a name for themselves around the World when they illegally scale tall buildings in various countries without safety equipment and then get the best bird's eye view shots fom above. They have already been banned from re-entering Egypt for climbing the Pyramids and recently featured in the Daily Mail as well as other national papers in the UK and abroad. They have now been sponsored by Ford, however I expect permissions will be sought before they scale any futher great landmarks!

As well as the Russians I also met an interesting Danish guy called Jeppe who at 21 years old has just hitchhiked from Denmark to Uzbekistan taking in northern Iraq on the way and will shortly be heading into Afghanistan. Brave lad, but already extremely knowledgable about the world in general and a great conversationalist.

In Uzbekistan, I took note of some of the customs they adhere to. One of these included chopping off the top part of a melon and then cutting it into quarters to ensure that in a future life they will still be able to swallow their food easily. Other strange customs included pouring the tea from the pot into a cup and then pouring it back into the pot and repeating this process 3 times. Not sure what that was all about, but no doubt it has something to do with their religion.

From Bukhara I headed
At Madina's Hostel in BukharaAt Madina's Hostel in BukharaAt Madina's Hostel in Bukhara

Derek the cyclist, the two russian photographers who illegally scale enormous buildings to get bird's eye view pictures and who have featured in the Daily Mail, and Jeppe the Danish 21 year old hitchhiker who has already visited Iraq and is now hitching to Afghanistan.
further east to Samarkand and this time I suffered badly with a stomach upset. Luckily, a farmer called Otokill took me into his house and gave me medication as well as several shots of vodka to try and cure the ailment. He stayed in the same room as I all night and every time I had to rush out to the outside toilet he got up as well, to ensure his guard dog did not do me any harm. In the morning as he headed off to the local bazaar, his nine year old boy and his cousin continued to watch over me and provide me with Chai and Ayran (sour yoghurt). I was so grateful for their help during this awful episode.

Although I have travelled to this region before, I struggled to recognise the various cities as so much modernisation has taken place during the past 6 years. My preference is the mountainous region of Uzbekistan to the south of Samarkand adjoining Tajikistan as the desert region to the west became very monotonous after a while.

My biggest memory of Uzbekistan is the people shouting out "Akuda?", which means "where are you from?" On certain days you could hear this
Bukhara ArkBukhara ArkBukhara Ark

This is where two British Army Officers Conolly and Stoddart were beheaded in the 1800s
up to 100 times as vehicles and people passed you by, and it could get a little tiring at times. The fondest memory is however of the children who spot you from miles away and whistle at you like shepherds, or the kids who either say "hello" or "goodbye" as they don't know anything else.

Uzbekistan appears very poor in relation to the other 'Stan' countries and is steeped in red tape beaucracy, but ask any person whether you can camp on their land and they will immediately invite you into their homes and feed and water you. Generally you are looked after by the man of the house who will invite you into his "Gentleman's room", which is bedecked with carpets and other beautiful mats and embroidery. You will be invited to sit down on one of the long comfortable mats and then they will lay out a seperate cloth mat which usually contains bread and chai. Other food will then be brought in by the wife or daughter. They will then exit immediately and not partake in any of the food or socialising. It is customary to sit crosslegged whilst eating the meal. I found this quite painful and it is surprising to see how easy it is for the Uzbekis no matter how old they are.

On the whole Uzbekistan has again been a wonderful experience, however it is also the first time where I had water thrown at me from a lorry, was refused the use of lavatory and ignored by the petrol station attendent even though I was telling him I had a bad stomach and a couple of the policeman at the various checkpoints seemed intent on demonstrating their authority.

Crossing the border into Tajikistan, the atmosphere immediately felt more relaxed. Here the kids laughed at you when they showed off their use of their horn attached to their bikes and I in response rang my tiny little bicycle bell......how old fashioned!

Another first for me was receiving chewing gum or sweets instead of currency when a shop didn't have any loose change. Apparently it is the accepted norm out here.

In Dushanbe, the capital of Tajikistan I stayed at the Adventurer's Inn hostel, but met up with Derek whom I had previously cycled with at a warm shower's host (similar to couch surfing). The French host Veronique and her son Gabrielle live in the centre of Dushanbe in what can be described as a colonial style house, which is her accommodation whilst working for the EU. A keen cyclist herself Veronique once took her son at the age of 5 from Ushaia to Cusco in South America on a 4 month tandem trip. What a lucky son! As well as Derek, I also met up with another cyclist called Gillian who had been travelling on the road for two years and was homeward bound. We all ended up having a meal together at Veronique's house. It was so nice to enjoy some western comforts such as real coffee.

Leaving Dushanbe behind, to commence the Pamir Highway, it was quite comical seeing the number of Policeman who line the streets in anticipation of the President appearing in his car, so that they can stop the traffic. At other times they are constantly waving down motorists for "motoring offences" which are soon forgotten about with the appearance of some cash lining their pockets.

As daylight was beginning to fade on one of my cyling days I asked a shepherd whether I could sleep in a portacabin I had stumbled on. He said no, but then invited me to his home where I met his Mother and other siblings. There I was fed and watered. The kids grow up very quickly in these households where they are given a quick slap if they don't behave. The women of the household appeared to be constantly preparing food, fetching wood or sweeping the yard with the traditional witches' broomsticks you often see in photos depicted of Russia. As the evening wore on and it was time to go to bed, I indicated that I needed to brush my teeth. You should have seen the stares as I brought out a Colgate toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. It has become evident as I have travelled through these last few countries that dental hygiene doesn't feature highly! All of us ended up sleeping on the mats in the same room, the shepherd in the same clothing he had been wearing all day long.

Close to the Pamir Highway I was fortunate enough to see a dancing exhibition by school kids on the side of a hill, where the local authorites were about to open a new bridge. The kids and especially the girls wear such beautiful traditional clothes out here.

The first part of the Pamir Highway has been absolutley amzing and Tajikistan I now consider to be my favourite country in the world. I am literally 50 metres from Afghanistan across the other side of the River Panj, where I can see the people going about their daily business, ploughing the fields with an ox, riding donkeys or little motorbikes, or creating a new path out of the side of a cliff. Many of the houses are made from mud, but life goes on as usual with the women fetching water from the river in the early morning and kids playing football on the makeshift dust strewn football pitches.

So, on two occasions I have been asked to marry the daughter of a shopkeeper. With my limited russian and hand signals I am able to tell them that I am 44 years old and not married and no children. The invite is usually made to me with the Father rubbing his index fingers together and then pointing at his daughter, followed by him saying "denge, denge", which means money. Out here in Tajikistan, you are expected to pay the Father a dowry if you ask for his daughter's hand. I declined......

I am now in Khorog, and will shortly be tackling the Whackan valley, which eventually leads up to a pass 4655 m high. The temperature has dropped significantly in this region and it will be real tough at times sleeping in my tent and sleeping bag in sub-zero temperatures.

From there on I shall hopefully continue into Kyrgyzstan, but will have to return to the UK for an indefinite period as my Father has unfortunately been diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukaemia.


Additional photos below
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30th October 2013

Pamir!!
Clivey dude, finally you made it to my favorite country of all! Thank you for the nice candid fotos of the people, it's like a trip down memory lane, nicest folks I've met in Central Asia and the scenery ain't too bad eh?!! Best of luck as you make your way up to Murghab and into Kyrg.. and if you see Tommy our guide from our Giselle truck days, send my regards I will come there again next year..safe travels..
31st October 2013

I'm sorry to hear about your dad...
you made the right decision to be near him as he goes through treatment. You might want to read jeremyaroundtheworld's recent blogs of his biking trip through the area you are about to cross although he did so a couple months ago so the weather was warmer.
31st October 2013

Yoohoo from NZ !
Hey, Clive, amazing photos once again and really enjoying your blog. It really has been an amazing experience for you ! Sorry to hear about your Dad ; difficult emotions all round I imagine . The UK will seem a very bizarre country when you get home after all you have seen and done but I am sure it will be good to be a support for your Dad. We will keep the beer in the fridge for when you get back on the saddle ! Xxx
13th November 2013

Happy cycling in the Wakhan, enjoy all the lovely hospitality and good luck with the sand/road/rocks and of course the wolves! :)

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