Road to Tokyo

7 days and 1,013km (Total: 90 days and 18,873km)

Navigating a two hundred and fifty kilogram motorcycle in these temperatures is a kind of physical labour I’m not used to (relative to the other types like making cups of tea and carrying the groceries home). Gore-tex keeps the sweat in just as well as it keeps the rain out, whilst your mind's playing a game of whac-a-mole to dodge pot holes, crazy drivers and wild animals. It certainly doesn't help when your body is trying to digest food and water it's not used to.

The journey is a challenge but I absolutely love it.

After Turkmenistan we needed a rest so pre-booked accommodation, more premium than our average, to guarantee clean bed sheets and air conditioning — two things Uzbekistan isn't famous for.

Getting into the country was easy. The customs officer prodded around our bags but didn't steal anything, and even offered to fix our wing mirror which had fallen off from the bumpy roads. I suspect he saw in us two people whose day had been difficult enough. We were shattered but only had an hour's drive to Khiva, a quintessential tourist hotspot, where we did the things TripAdvisor will never write about: ate a kebab on the outskirts of the town and had an early night.

The next morning we woke as the sun was rising, pushed K out of the courtyard to not disturb the children sleeping outside, and rode for six hours south to Bukhara. The heat was intense — not just in temperature, per se, but the shimmer on the tarmac, the hot wind blowing into your face, and the mind's consistent draw to water.

We arrived at our accommodation and it was everything we had hoped for, and more. The host opened the door and led us through to a secluded courtyard that cast an instant relaxation spell over us. There was even a tiny tortoise wandering round slowly and aimlessly — the perfect antidote to riding six hours in one direction at a hundred kilometres per hour. The addition of a needy cat topped it off.

The host and his family spoke good English and we really felt at home with them. They made us a huge delicious breakfast in the morning and we only left their house to visit the local bazaar and buy groceries — perfectly content to skip the thousands of TripAdvisor suggestions in favour of air conditioning, hanging out with a cat and a tortoise, and doing absolutely nothing.

Whilst enjoying a cold Sarbast Special that evening, we realised we wouldn't be ready to leave the next day, so asked the host if we could stay an extra two nights with a lower budget. He said we can move into one of the smaller rooms and forfeit the breakfast. We both instantly agreed and paid up front. The next morning, breakfast was still served and he told us we can keep the same room.

It's the first time on the trip that we've stayed more than three nights in the same place. It's also the first time we ate at the same restaurant twice! A place nearby specialised in Uzbek Plov for which you can order “0.7 portions” or “1 portion” and pay a little more if you want beef instead of horse. The food was so good that I had to keep myself from finishing the whole plate before Becs had finished her first mouthful. And the no frills dining experience made it even better: pictures on the menu, food served in two minutes, and the waiters don't bother you again until you get up and pay seven euros for the whole experience. Perfect.

After four nights, it was time to leave Bukhara. As we rode further south the scenery turned from uninteresting desert to undulating hills with enough rain to support farming and some flora. The roads were great and the heat had calmed a bit. It was some of my favourite riding yet.

We’re now preparing for our next Stan. Fortunately, an Aussie biker had topped us off that Tajikistan visas were currently in a state of unknown — some people getting them instantly, others taking weeks, and some outright rejected for no reason. British passports, we were warned, weren't having much luck. We were given a WhatsApp number of a “fixer” who could apparently get visas approved faster. It sounded pretty dodgy but compelling enough, so we sent him $150 and he replied “Leave it with me.”

Next stop: Let’s see.