I’m majorly winning at this little game I’ve made for myself. It’s not even difficult any more. And I think that’s the problem.
I woke up at -10°C in a culvert of frozen shit under a road at 4,000m (13,000 ft). It was the beginning of my first full day in China, and if I weren’t so pessimistic, I would have supposed things could only get better.
Accused of being a spider as I cross from Tajikistan into China over the Kulma Pass
Cycling one of the highest plateaus in the world, at over 4000m in the Pamirs, on the second-highest international highway in the world.
Cycling further up the valley and making the river crossing at Savnob.
We were invited to a wedding in the Pamirs, the heart of Tajikistan.
It was here, on the edge of nowhere, that I considered my own home and possessions.
The first time I got positive culture shock.
Military, puke and parties as we cycle along the Afghan border.
From Dushanbe to Kalaikhum, we take the road less travelled into the heart of the Pamir mountains.
Cycling up to the Anzob tunnel in Tajikistan, also fondly known as the Tunnel of Death.
We enter Tajikistan and into a living lesson on kindness.
That time I got invited to a party in Uzbekistan.
The sweat. Our garments were now sponges more than clothes, preventing puddles beneath our worn out shoes and tired feet…
Ultimately, no one can tell you never to give up better than the voice inside your own head.