maanantai 5. syyskuuta 2016

Turkmenistan: Racing against time, kilometers, headwinds, sandstorms,heat and my own head

Have you ever tried sleeping on a frying pan? That's how I felt during most of the nights spend at the desert of Turkmenistan. The sand stays unbelievably hot until 1-2am so that I woke up in every hour sweating even more than during day time. My clothes were  totally soaked and the sweat was dropping down from my body and I felt that I was swimming in my own sweat. I didn't use the outer layer of my tent anymore, but somehow the heat just stayed inside the tent and it made sleeping impossible. During my sleepless nights in Turkmenistan, I remembered my sisters words that just resting is almost as powerful as sleeping. I closed my eyes again and agin somewhere between the sand dunes in the vast desert of Turkmenistan and I tried to convince myself, that it's ok to cycle over 100km a day on the desert heat, being totally exhausted and just "rest" during the night times. Every night, I also came into conclusion that I can also try to hich to the border, in case I cannot make it from Uzbekistan to Iran in 5 days. Why did I need to cycle through Turkmenistan in five days? Because, I got 5 days transit visa for Turkmenistan and the distance from Uzbekistan border to border of Iran is some 540km. So, I kept turning around on my sandy frying pan bed, and hoped to catch some sleep.

Every morning, I was waking up at 4 am to cycle, in order to have one hour on my bike before sunrise and then it gave me few more hours before the temperature was again over 40 ( some days over 50) degrees. Local people told that it was the hottest time of the year in Turkmenistan. I definitely felt it. During the second day of my rally through Turkmenistan, I realized that I will never be able to make it to the border of Iran on time if I don't sleep. So, I decided not to use my tent during the night. I just placed my sleeping mattress on top of my tarp on a sand dunes and wish that the snakes, scorpions and who knows what other animals stayed away from me. This solution was way better. While lying under the stars all by myself on the desert, I remembered why I was doing this/ Gratitude and happiness filled me and I started to sleep well during the night times again.

The road I was cycling through Turkmenistan was flat and sandy. The scenery somewhat monotonous and I could see far to the horizon until the heat riggled the view away. While having hard times being motivated to cycle, I went through all the people I had met coming from Turkmenistan and I was convincing myself that I can do this as well. I might be woman and I might be alone, but If I just push myself little further, I can do this. I was shouting my mantra loud out for silent desert, I was chanting it for camels passing by. I was thinking my friends who told me that I can do this. I was trying to grasp the extra positive energy from every single piece of my thought. I was chanting my mantra at 5 pm when there was still 40km to be done and the sand was in my mouth while I was totally soaked from my own sweat and my legs felt like well cooked spaghetti. I was trying to find the beauty of lonely sand dunes of the desert and flatness of the road. I was telling that the dancing sand on the road combined with the wind is something, in have never seen. I have never seen sand tornados on the desert passing me by and hitting my already dirty face. The road continued far away to the horizon until it riggled away because of the heat. The wind was passing me like a roaring animal, sometimes so laud that I couldn't listen music which normally help me, when I am tired and the road feels too difficult to face alone.

Earlier, I have reached some kind of level of calmness in my mind while I cycle. My mind has been quiet for long periods of time, but Turkmenistan was not only physically hard, but also mentally. My mind didn't give me too many breaks. That kind of a road gave lot of space for thinking. It's impossible not to think something during the long hours on a bike. When there is monotonous view, tired body and overheated head, the mind is starting to fly high and then suddenly make deep-water desperate dives. My thoughts were a lot with my family, old and new friends, past and future. I had lot of time to go through discussions hold before with the people I had met on the road. On my third day my tiers were falling regularly and they got mixing up with my sweat and sunscreen. How did I ended up to this fast lonely desert alone? I stopped on the heat without shade (there was nothing else than sand dunes and few tiny dry plants) to watch videos and pictures of my family and friends. 

I had many hours of motivational talks with myself when my energy levels were low and motivation even lower. I find it amusing, how it's possible to trick yourself with self talks. When my legs felt heavy, stiff and out of energy and there was "only" 40km to go, there was 100 reasons to stop in every few kilometer either to fix my uncomfortable scarf, drink, have a dihorrea or just stop and be exhausted. Is this the dream I wanted? Then I always came into the conclusion, that this way I am not moving forward in any ways, not in kilometer wise neither personally, so let's just cycle the last 40km and call it a day. Maybe my mood will change, maybe I get more energy, let's just continue little more. It's anyways only 50km, it's not 100 anymore. So, I put my feet back in the pedals and continued. Yes, there is headwind, yes the sand is flying straight on my face and mouth, yes the Tarmac is bad, but actually I have never seen or experienced anything like this before and let's see how far can I go. During my self talks, I was wondering how big illusions they are. No matter, if I speak positive or negative things to myself, it's all created by myself. So most likely most of it is just illusion. On this state my mind normally calmed down and gave me little break.

The camels and other animals ( such as some spotted cat animal, desert mangusts, some small fox-kind of a things), are the highlights of the day, they always made me smile. I am not sure if the camels are wild, but on the desert middle of nowhere, where they stay, there is no human settlements, the nearest small village is 80km away to both directions. The camels are also afraid of people, I tried to go near to them to take a picture but they made scary noises and run away. So, I decided not to bother them when I see them, just to admire them. I wish I was a camel too, then I didn't need to carry up to 10L of water all the time and my bike would be a lot lighter. I would also be a lot better with the heat of the desert. But I suppose I am not a camel.

Here comes my normal day routine: I already mentioned that I normally woke up at 4am to have my breakfast porridge and coffee and started to cycle around 5am. I tried to cycle 80-90km before the midday to have a long sleep over the afternoon. On this road from Farap to Sarahs there is cafes in every 40km (some stretches the distance is 80km of nothingness). I plan my day in advance so that during afternoon, I stop for one of the cafes to escape the heat and sun. The owners of the cafes, they  always let me to sleep over the afternoon in their cafe. One of the cafe owners brought me mattress and even a pillow, so I had wonderful 4 hours of sleep. Sometimes another cyclist came from another direction into the same cafe, normally totally soaked from sweat and exhaustion. All of them, like me before, buy one liter of juice, drink it in two minutes and then buy another cold drink. To see these men (why all the cyclist are men or couples?), it makes me to wonder how crazy people are doing this. All equally exhausted, counting kilometers, sweating their asses off. Around 5pm the sun was not so strong anymore and the temperature was only 40 degrees, so for me it was good time to do another 30-40km. Before sunset, I looked for my sand dune, took some of the panniers off, carried them and then somehow fought my bike over the deep sand to my hidden home for that night. Cook dinner and have a rest on a "frying pan" dunes.

Turkmenistan was under Soviet Union until 1991 and after, it used to have bizzarr dictatorship (president called Saparmyrat Niyazov) similar to North Korea. The new president is having slightly less control than the old one. I had no clue what to except when I arrived to Turkmenistan, but people appeared to be very gentle and hospitable. From all the countries that I have visited, in Turkmenistan the cars were most likely to take me into consideration and they gave me lot of space. While i was trying to avoid driving in to potholes on a Tarmac, the cars waited so patiently behind me and waved hellos when they finally passed by.

Men didnt talk to me too much. I felt relaxed to cycle alone, there was no sexism, no uncomfortable stares and no whisteling. Men even seemed to avoid me, which I actually liked a lot and appreciated. I felt like I was on a holiday from attention of men. I met couple cyclists going to other direction and they were both men. It's amazing how the behavior of local men changed and all of the sudden the men came to talk to the boys. Once again, I was left out of the conversation. How lovely is to be invisible. Yet, women were talking to me a lot and they wondered how I can be alone on the road. I was having a sore throat, coughing a lot and my voice was fading out while having conversations, therefore the ladies often gave me interesting pills, while writing this I have collection of 30 different pills and I have no clue what they are. I tried them all though, but none of them really worked.

On my second last day in Turkmenistan, I cycled 148km because I heard that the last 100km of the road to the Iranian border was in terrible condition and the border of Turkmenistan closes around 16 pm. That day the road was going through tiny settlements, which were normally 20-30km from one another. That day Turkmenistan people were just incredible friendly and I was happy to be out of the long lonely desert stretch.  I got 7 invitations for the chai, 3 breads, 5 bags of biscuits, bottle of Coca Cola (cold!), one melon, one huge watermelon (10kg when the local shop owner was weighting it), vegetables, 15L of cold water, 3 ice creams and some candies, three times car stopped to ask if I need a lift and 2 people invited me to stay at their houses. These all came from different people in different situations. The huge watermelon arrived, when I was sleeping under a tree after 100km and a random man woke me up, placed the huge watermelon next to me, put his thumb up smiled, said "strong woman alone, good" and left. That day cycling felt easier than any other day in Turkmenistan, just because people were just so kind to a pink stranger who was passing by their land.

When I entered to the border of Turkmenistan, the young army boys took my bicycle from me, and pushed it to the customs for me. Woman brought me tea and the officers told me that I look very tired. I felt like crying, because I was tired, dirty, stinky, sweating and actually somebody realized it. Yet, I was proud of my bicycle that it took me through Turkmenistan without bigger problems and I was proud of myself that I made it through all the hard times. I felt happy, strong and amazed of myself how it's possible to go trough such a challenging environment and challenging times with yourself and come out maybe more tired but stronger than ever before. I was not asked for any money to exit the country (neither to enter to country) , I didn't need to fill up papers, I didn't even have right papers with me and it was not a problem. No one wanted to check my bags or my camera. I was sad to leave Turkmenistan because people seemed to be so friendly but I didn't have time to get to know them.

While cycling on the no man land into Iran, I was exited. Iran has been one of my dreams for long time. I had heard so many good things about its people and their hospitality, but also that it can be challenge to ride there as a solo female.. 

Song of today:












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