Svaneti (Georgia), Western Azerbaijan, Nagorno Karabakh and Armenia
Upon leaving Britain in February I knew I needed to get through Central Asia before it descended into the depths of its brutal frigid winter. But as I rode eastwards I thankfully oft recalled reading that many travellers had wished they’d learn to slow down sooner. And it was very apparent why, this type of journey (mostly) isn’t about riding a bike, it’s about experiencing the multitude of cultures, people and places that make up our world, and hopefully having these experiences shape you into a wiser more benevolent being. The bike just happens to be an ideal method of doing so, and the slower you move the more you see. In the Balkans I did a reasonable job of detouring into cool places and mother and I followed suit. Now in mid-September I could either tear forth to escape the deep chill or slow down even more and take up its icy embrace as another unique challenge and experience…needless to say I chose the latter. A friend and work in Hungary were the perfect excuse to hop back to Europe for a week and fortify myself with gear for a level of cold that quite honestly scared me shitless.
Arriving back in Georgia I met someone that was to substantially influence my approach to this journey and allow me to take in that much more of my surroundings. Megan had been backpacking across the Far East into western China for about six months when she met a young Belgium. Ilona had ridden, mostly by herself, all the way from Oz and was now about to embark for the renowned and daunting Pamir mountains in Tajikistan– over 1000km of remote riding mostly over 4000m! Never having biked before, Megan was stoked for a new challenge and with the very rudimentary gear she could buy in Kyrgyzstan, she rode off with Ilona. Incredibly tough it was, but she just chipped away and was now 4000km further on, now alone, riding strong and loving life (read of her experiences here) – truly inspirational. Furthermore she’d excelled at learning some basic Russian and communicating with locals beyond just the basic necessities like myself, determined to emulate I watched and learnt. We were heading in opposite directions but stoked to ride together and, both in no rush, we spent over a month exploring various corners of the Caucasus before heading onwards separately.
First up was revisiting Svaneti, but this time on two wheels for a magnificent week of mountains, sunshine and autumn hues that we very appreciably soaked up, knowing they would probably be the last for a while.
First up was revisiting Svaneti, but this time on two wheels for a magnificent week of mountains, sunshine and autumn hues that we very appreciably soaked up, knowing they would probably be the last for a while.
Back briefly in Tbilisi we arrived at the hostel to some minor consternation, three Somalis had arrived and a German woman was now ‘not happy’ to be in a dorm with the two guys in the group. Hearing the term ‘I’m not racist but…’ I bit my tongue hard, gave her the ‘if looks could kill’ stare I’ve learnt from my mother, and joined the two Somali guys – I’ve never met a Somalian before and didn’t expect to while travelling here, so I was very intrigued to meet them. I spent two days with Amaal, Awil and Mohammed and had many, now clearly ignorant, perceptions vastly altered regarding their country and culture. Somaliland (the country is now effectively split in two with the northern portion renamed as such) has for some time been a relatively safe and functioning country and they had no qualms in confirming that it would be safe to travel there, and they’re regular flights from the capital, Hargeisa, to Dubai. The greatest irony being that given the recent xenophobic attacks in South Africa (many on Somalians), they were appalled by my country and would not even consider travelling there for fear of attack (the irony was not lost on me). We had numerous other discussions while I showed them Tbilisi and I left far wiser for their company.
A solo sojourn into Azerbaijan followed – A people long ruled by Russia, though culturally very similar to the Turks and now ruled by a Kleptocractic twat…So they’re culturally Muslim but have had much of it bashed out of them by the Russians and now even though the country has rich oil resources most see little of it (not that that is an unusual story). This leads to a hospitable friendly people (like the Turks) who don’t mind letting their hair down (think Russians and Vodka) who don’t think much of their big boss but get on with life anyway – a fun country to travel through! They weren’t shy to tell me of their deep seated hate for the Armenians after a bitter scrap over the region of Nagorno Karabakh at the fall of the Soviet Union, that continues to this day (yes 25 years on), but more on that shortly.
Heading for Armenia (via Georgia as the Azeri/Armenian borders are most certainly closed) I cranked up into the mountains and rain for a rendezvous with Megan on the shores of Lake Sevan, the 2nd largest high altitude lake in the world sitting at just under 2000m.
The destination hereafter was Nagorno Karabakh, the contested region the Azeri’s had been so vociferous about. It has officially been its own country since the war ended 25 years ago, although it is effectively very much part of Armenia. As with most colonisation, the ruling powers care little for effects on the local populace as they move people around and draw arbitrary borders through communities. Thus it was as Azerbaijan and Armenia fell out of the disintegration of the Soviet Union that this largely Armenian region was part of Azerbaijan and just geographically disconnected from Armenia. The Armenians, having lost vast swathes of their land and people to the Turks, were not about to give up on this region and won a bloody bitter war. And in doing so annexed parts of Azerbaijan to ensure this region was wholly joined to Armenia and defendable against the Azeris...needless to say the feuding has been ongoing ever since but the borders have remained as is.
A contested country with a heavy military presence and very little tourism is always going to be fascinating. For two weeks we roamed the rough mountainous roads that wind through this land. Large guns towed behind army trucks were common (Megan quipping as to how much artillery it was normal to see in one day!) but the sentiment of their uniformed occupants was relaxed and welcoming, and though the people see few tourists they too were great. It was interesting how although the world might view it as a controversial place, the people had long since just gotten on with living their lives. Mostly living rural existences, the ‘concerns’ of the world’s leaders mean little to them if they are left in peace.
A contested country with a heavy military presence and very little tourism is always going to be fascinating. For two weeks we roamed the rough mountainous roads that wind through this land. Large guns towed behind army trucks were common (Megan quipping as to how much artillery it was normal to see in one day!) but the sentiment of their uniformed occupants was relaxed and welcoming, and though the people see few tourists they too were great. It was interesting how although the world might view it as a controversial place, the people had long since just gotten on with living their lives. Mostly living rural existences, the ‘concerns’ of the world’s leaders mean little to them if they are left in peace.
We busied ourselves with a vodka fuelled party with two locals in a small town, natural hot springs all to ourselves, caving and an impromptu shortcut using the services of local and his equine steed. Along with much chat righting all the world’s wrongs it was a cold, damp and awesome adventure.
The mantra of “Travel Slow, Ride hard” was now fully entrenched – we took the steep rough back roads, often having to push and made indiscernible progress across the map while having a myriad a memorable experiences.
Back in the capital Yerevan it was time to get organized for Iran while Megan headed to London for a conference and some winter gear fortifying of her own. The goodbyes while travelling are always hard but this one especially so, however I’m guessing we’ll share a road together again before long.
Having borne the brunt of many sanctions, Iran’s banking system has been severed from the rest of the world and you must take all the money you will require in cash (ironically in USD) into the country, And if you want to keep up with social media during your stay you also need to organise a VPN connection as most sites have been blocked by the ruling regime.
Admin for Iran complete, with 400km to the border I expected to be there in four days and, somewhat melancholic, rode off alone again through southern Armenia. Six days later after almost 10,000m of climbing(!), I summited the final massive climb of 1800m (that’s bigger than anything in the Tour de France!) and cruised down to camp on the border with Iran.
Having borne the brunt of many sanctions, Iran’s banking system has been severed from the rest of the world and you must take all the money you will require in cash (ironically in USD) into the country, And if you want to keep up with social media during your stay you also need to organise a VPN connection as most sites have been blocked by the ruling regime.
Admin for Iran complete, with 400km to the border I expected to be there in four days and, somewhat melancholic, rode off alone again through southern Armenia. Six days later after almost 10,000m of climbing(!), I summited the final massive climb of 1800m (that’s bigger than anything in the Tour de France!) and cruised down to camp on the border with Iran.
By now snow was a regular feature along with numb aching hands, and with a night of -5 degree I was psychologically gearing up for the deep chill. My journaling involved giving myself a stern talking too – unlike many challenges, surviving prolonged periods in extremely cold winters cannot achieved by pushing harder and being tough, that will lead to an untimely demise. What’s required is constant attention to your physical condition and discipline in regularly adjusting gear and exertion as required – if you sweat or get cold you’re in deep trouble, it’s going to be a whole new game for me that’s for sure.
But as I camped in an old train tunnel looking onto Armenian and Iranian mountains my thoughts drifted – I’d now been in the Caucasus for 3 months and was feeling very content with letting the journey divert me into unexpected intrigue and thus not planning too rigorously and embracing whatever challenges the wandering may toss my way.
Focus then shifted to the country across the river only a couple of hundred metres away – accounts of travellers spoke so positively of it, but it was difficult not to be intimidated amidst the demonized image that is portrayed in our media…one thing was for sure – from tomorrow I would find out for myself.
Focus then shifted to the country across the river only a couple of hundred metres away – accounts of travellers spoke so positively of it, but it was difficult not to be intimidated amidst the demonized image that is portrayed in our media…one thing was for sure – from tomorrow I would find out for myself.