What just happened?

Ok, we’ll come clean. We’ve been cycling in the Kazakh and Uzbek deserts for two weeks and we can’t remember very much about it. It’s probably heat exhaustion or sand on the brain, but we’ve checked the photos and we definitely did it.

Scotland to New Zealand by camel anyone?

Sipping an Uzbek Reisling (yes, really) in Bukhara we shook our heads thinking, “what happened to us in the last two weeks?”. Then Matt remembered that a sense of smell can help to trigger memories (Matt knew this because he had previously claimed that a recurring blocked nose prevented him achieving higher grades at university (note: exam review boards don’t like facts)).

Anyway, below is our review of cycling in the Central Asian desert aided by four smells.

The smell of sweat. Temperatures ranged between 35 to 40 degrees in the desert and with no moisture, it was very, very dry. In fact it was so dry that any moisture would immediately evaporate so we didn’t visibly sweat but our pours would open up with pure salt crusting into our skin with a mixture of sand and dirt. We’re thinking of starting a new brand of hand crusted bath salts called Desert Salts. Even taking a sip from our precious water bottles was like drinking directly from a boiling kettle.

The smell of desperation. Usually we started cycling as early as possible (which turns out to be about 7.30am) and aim to stop at 1pm to let the scorching afternoon heat pass. However in the desert there’s precious little shade, let alone a mini market to refresh ourselves with water. The Kazahk desert was so remote that more than once there was 100km between towns. One day we cycled 50km into a headwind looking for a building, bus stop or just anything to shelter us from the midday sun. Another day we finally found a shipping container to rest beside only for the owner to arrive with a pipe in his hand. We weren’t sure if he was friend or foe, but we didn’t hang around to find out. With the lack of water and shade the smell of desperation was never far away.

The smell of death. The unmistakable smell of a carcass was almost a daily experience which followed us ominously through the desert. Camels, horses, cows, birds, lizards, snakes. We held our breaths (and noses) wondering if the next carcass would be a poor cyclist drowned in sweat and exhaustion, picked clean by the birds. Thankfully, our fellow cyclists seem to have survived the experience, but other companions did not.

Some of our fellow travellers who didn’t make it out alive

The smell of success. We exited the desert when we entered the historic Silk Road town of Bukhara in Uzbekistan and filled our lungs with the smell of success (which turns out to smell remarkably like sweat and dirt). We didn’t have much to trade with the merchants except from war stories and salt-crusted t-shirts. Disappointingly these get you surprisingly little in an air conditioned restaurant.

Noodles for lunch in the shade. Anyone for salt?

This week's highlights:

• Camping in the desert. Undoubtedly the best of the whole trip. The sunrises, sunsets and desert night sky! Glorious colours and a canopy of stars every night. Very peaceful.

• The cafe culture in Uzbekistan where tables are raised platforms and you kick your shoes off, climb up onto the bed to eat at a low table in amongst the cushions. Then once you're finished the norm is to lie down right there and have a nap after your meal. Genius! (Skillfully demonstrated by Matt below).

• Being flagged down by a truck driver who went into his cab and came out with an enormous watermelon. We were of course thrilled but it was so heavy that we needed to sit then and there to eat it down to an acceptable weight. Even after that we still needed to carry half each.

• The simplicity of desert cycling. OK, so it was flat - unbelievably flat - and bare, but this also brought a strange sense of calm, clarity and raw survival that came from peddling across a steppe.

This week's lowlights:

• Water-shortage induced anxiety. With there being no clarity on when the next opportunity to fill up would be, we had to carry litres and litres of water with us at all times. Same with food; 3-4 days worth of food for two hungry cyclists made for heavy bikes!

• In Kazakhstan, often being gifted their national drink which was incredibly kind, but the tasting notes can only really be described as fizzy rotten cheese milk. It is of course the infamous fermented camel milk, apparently with amazing medicinal properties, but it’ll put more than hairs on your chest.

It’s harder than it looks, apparently.

Cycling across the desert has been a truly incredible experience. Easily one of the most challenging and adventurous things we've done (coming from two people who have been down Sauchiehaul Street on a Saturday night). The relief of reaching civilisation, a shower, aircon and an abundant choice of food and drinks made it all the more special to remember those days and nights in the desert. A trip highlight for sure.
And now, for altitude. As soon as our eVisas arrive we head into Tajikistan and then high into the Kyrgyzstan mountains. Wish us luck and strong legs, we’ll need ‘em!