Riding out from Aktau were Stuart, Oli, Marcus and me. Attempting to beat the scorching sun the all American heroes had left at first light. We being European, stupid or both got rolling around midday, aiming to make just shy of Beyneu 300 miles north east before nightfall and camp on the steppe. Progressively deteriorating from […]Read more "Not Even A Shadow"
With the ever increasing difficulties entering Iran and Russia, and the allure of the mythical Caspian freight ferry, Baku acts like a funnel for overlanders; cyclists and moto hobos alike. Having not seen another motorbiker for weeks and just the occasional cyclists, old town Baku had itself a plague of two wheelers awaiting the boat […]Read more "Boat From Baku"