Total this trip: 655km; Total so far: 10085km

After another four or five days relaxing in Dushanbe, it was time to try again to cycle through the Pamirs. The Monday after the opening of the Pamirs was like the sound of the starting gun – in an instant, all the cyclists in the city left like rats off a sinking ship, hoping that no further trouble would turn them back again.

Our new route took us over two low passes, two of which were right out of Dushanbe. We were treated to views Dushanbe and of Norak Lake, along which the president apparently lives, and unlike our previous route we were treated to long flat sections of well-paved roads. Along the first pass my chain skipped over my granny ring and got stuck between my spokes and the cassette, damaging the derailleur and necessitating a long and dirty roadside repair. After resting two days in Kulob for Hanne to get over a stomach bug, we climbed the last pass to descend into the Panj River valley.

The Panj separates Tajikistan from Afghanistan, and is cyclable over much of its length. The river is seldom more than 100 yards across, and yet the differences between the two sides are immediately striking. While the same cows and sheep graze the fields, and the same crops are sown and stored for winter, and the birds fly freely between both banks, the Tajik side has a wide road and a steady stream of Chinese trucks and tourists, while the Afghan side has nothing wider than a stone cart track, no tourists, and no traffic. Indeed, much of the valley must be completely inaccessible in the winter. The muezzin only sings from the Afghan side, and women commonly go without headscarves in Tajikistan. We wonder how much contact the peoples of the two sides have with each other – how much freedom of movement there is between societies and cultures who are so close in physical proximity, but seem to be so distant otherwise.

Our days mainly consisted of spectacular mountain views, ice-cold waterfall showers, crisp clean air, rough roads, wonderful campsites (twice under the mulberry trees!) and children hyperventilating from screaming “hello!” so much. There are very few shops, and nothing other than staples are available, but otherwise this feels like one of the most touristic places we’ve been. This is admittedly odd, because notwithstanding the many homestays and screaming children, this valley is incredibly remote, and only dedicated travelers make it out here. The comparative trickle of cyclists, trekkers, motorcyclists that do come through are just concentrated on a single road, for a few short months out of the year. Mass tourism on a small scale.

Norak Lake soon after the 2nd pass out of Dushanbe