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.