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.
Those last days in Georgia.
3 nights, 4 days and 0 showers later I majestically cycled down the hill to Tbilisi, sunburnt, smeared head to toe in a shiny, grit-covered, suncreamy goop.
I really don’t care if I got lost here. Trees, mountains, cows and random invitations from Armenians in Gerogia.
Cycling from Cappadocia over the (rainy) mountains to the Black Sea.
Did I just cycle to another planet? Oh wait, there are Turkish flags everywhere.
No people, no shops, nothing. Just rocks, a shoddy road and us. Then the road ends. To get to where it begins again, you have to take a boat for 4 hours and travel 30km up the river.
Once upon a time a guy on a bicycle pedalled across Montenegro to Albania. The End.
One of the most beautiful and remote places I’ve cycled in Europe. Light traffic, nice roads and unrivalled autumn scenery.