Back into the Desert

Starting today, I was heading back into the desert again — between Khiva and Bukhara there is another long stretch marked in beige on the map. Yesterday evening I spent a long time wondering whether this would turn out well. Maybe also because my tour guide told me that I should rather take the train, since crossing the desert was too dangerous. But then I noticed that — at least on the map — there was either a restaurant or a small shop every few kilometers, meaning that water and food supply should not be a problem. In fact, there seem to be even more supply options here than between Aktau and Beineu. There just don’t appear to be many places to stay overnight — perhaps it’s finally time to unpack my tent?

At first, though, the route still went through irrigated areas. And it rained again — this time a bit more than yesterday, though still not enough to fully wet the road. The weather forecast had already predicted cooler temperatures for the coming days, and today was indeed noticeably cooler than yesterday — very pleasant for cycling, neither hot nor cold. I’d gladly take this kind of weather for the next few days until I’ve crossed the desert.

After about 85 kilometers, I came across another bridge like the one the day before yesterday, shared by both trains and road traffic. This time, the road traffic — myself included, of course — had to wait until a freight train had passed.

After that, the desert suddenly appeared all at once. Up to that point I had enjoyed a slight tailwind, but for the next ten kilometers or so the wind came from the side. Afterwards, I rejoined the large road toward Bukhara — the A-380, which I had left the day before yesterday for my detour to Khiva. As soon as I was back on the A-380, I had a tailwind again, and this time also a good road. In contrast, the first 85 kilometers had included not only good sections but also stretches full of potholes, uneven patchwork repairs, or even completely unpaved surfaces. Mentally, that was quite exhausting because I constantly had to pay attention to exactly where I was riding. Now, however, I also noticed that the temperature here was somewhat higher than during the earlier kilometers. There are simply no plants here — or very few — to absorb some of the heat.

Certainly thanks in part to the tailwind, I arrived shortly after 4 p.m. at a restaurant where I had read that the people were friendly and had previously offered other bicycle travelers a place to pitch their tents behind the building. I could easily imagine staying there for the night.

Shortly after I arrived, I met Bing, who comes from China and had arrived a little before me. He is also traveling by bicycle, though from east to west. And on his luggage rack he even carried a guitar. From that point on, I spoke Chinese for the rest of the evening. What a joy it was to have company again — and we got along wonderfully right away. He had also been considering spending the night there, and after chatting with me for a while, it became an easy decision. As for camping, that once again didn’t happen, because the restaurant owners offered us a room where we could roll out our sleeping bags — for the equivalent of less than two Swiss francs per person. Naturally, I couldn’t turn down such an offer.

I’m really curious how much longer I’ll manage without needing the tent. At least now it’s warm enough for me as well. In any case, my fear of the desert has completely disappeared. Bing told me that there are many restaurants like this along the route where you can also sleep. And already yesterday I had seen that I should be able to find accommodations over the next few days — only today I wasn’t entirely sure. Fear is a poor guide, and reality rarely turns out the way we imagine it. I certainly never expected that here in the middle of the desert I would find such good company and end up feeling less lonely than during the previous days.

By the way, the guitar turned out to be a real mood booster: