A carpet of tarmac to devour the miles, a frozen toe in the water, and the return of our favourite neighbours. We found the perfect spot by the large reservoir to sunbathe in absolute privacy.
🇰🇿 Kazakhstan (Қазақстан)
A detour in the middle of the steppe, mile-long trains that never seem to end, and a solitary lake that feels like the end of the world. Our route takes us straight to the heart of the Kazakh nowhere, where sunsets are best enjoyed on two wheels.
A mythical coincidence that not even the best GPS could have planned, golden onions and the great mystery of who the guy on the horse is. Aktobe gifts us biker reunions, Soviet luxuries and a place to nest for the night with the quietest of neighbours.
A post-breakfast distress call, a treacherous beach and our trusty winch to the rescue. After becoming the heroes of the reservoir, we headed for a secret spot by the river to enjoy a well-deserved afternoon of rest.
Three hundred and eighty kilometres of straight steppe, rest areas that look like something out of a post-apocalyptic film, and an absolute record for our campervan’s odometer. We crossed Kazakhstan on roads that were a real luxury until we found an oasis with trees, the smell of a barbecue, and unexpected fans.
Un salto de continente a pie, la búsqueda desesperada de mis chuches y agua de manguera cortesía de unos fontaneros encantadores. Dejamos atrás la capital del petróleo para adentrarnos en una estepa tan infinita que ni Google Maps sabe muy bien dónde está la carretera.
An infinite steppe, camels greeting us from the roadside and cemeteries that look like miniature villages. We took to the roads of Kazakhstan with lightning-fast internet, only to end up driving the camper into a mud labyrinth right before camping among strangers.
Un Kremlin, una frontera de lo más animada con un militar con alma de psicólogo y dos valientes en moto camino a Nueva Zelanda. Dejamos atrás Rusia para pisar el séptimo país de la expedición y el número 40 en mi cuenta perruna.