The flight to Istanbul was uneventful, not so with the flight to Bishkek. I tend to watch stuff on my iPad so have the flight path on the screen. The flight path showed us heading straight over the pole and landing in the west coast of Alaska. WTF. I showed Dits and we both started wondering if there was a Bishkek in Alaska. Surely not, we would have had to all sorts of pre-departure stuff if we were flying to the US. I asked the air-hostie; yes, we were definitely going to Kyrgyzstan. The other hassle was we were in front of an exit row, so the seats had no recline. Great; no sleep.
We arrived in Bishkek at 430am. The airport was very odd. It looked like it was a new build that was 50% complete. The customs hall had about 5 different SIM card providers all yelling out their deals. Leaving the airport was a challenge as it wasn’t clear when you were actually outside. Finding our Yandex (Uber) driver was a nightmare as the car park was a building site and you had to walk 400 or so metres to get to area of pickup. We finally found him and off we flew (literally) into the city. We had agreed to pay cash as we could not link our credit cards to the Yandex account; the problem was we had no local currency. Communicating with the driver was a challenge but thankfully we found some ATMs near our hostel when we were dropped off.
We could not check into our room until 2 but thankfully there we some lovely day beds in the inner courtyard so Dits and made ourselves comfortable and with eye-masks on, managed to get nearly 3 hours kip. The backpackers was called Koisha and really was lovely. Had a really nice vibe. When we got up, we headed out to find a place for breakfast. The city had a very Soviet feel to it – wide boulevards; ugly apartment blocks and the odd statue and concrete monstrosity / artwork. Turns out Moscow administrators had designed the city in the turn of the century. They aligned the wide grid-based avenues with the wind direction and also planted a lot of trees – all to keep the city cool in the brutal summer heat. All the roads were lined with trees and little concrete canals (2 feet wide) to water the trees. Apparently, it had more tree coverage than any city in the former USSR. We found a very western cafe and had a lovely breakfast – and great coffee – which was a surprise given the dire cuisine warnings we had read about the place.
We headed back to chill at Koisha until we could book into our room and grab a much-needed shower and a bit more rest. We walked a fair way across the city for our dinner – a bit of exploring and then a feed. Not much to see really and the heat (early 30’s) made going a bit tough. Found a local restaurant that had a very Chinese feel to it and had an average meal. The city is very Chinese – the people look Chinese with the odd Tibetan looking person. While it’s a Muslim country it’s certainly not overly so. People dress very well with the odd male wearing the traditional Kyrgyz hat. An interesting blend.
The next day we decided to do some exploring with the main town square our first aim – once we found a place to have breakfast. Bublic appears to be a chain as we found another one and decided that since it was so good the day before we would repeat the experience. It didn’t disappoint. The main Ala-Too Square and the State History Museum was next. A huge 33m flag atop a 100m flagpole was visible from fair way off. It was erected to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the Kara-Kyrgyz Autonomous Region. The museum itself was OK. The most entertaining bit was when I went to retrieve our backpack we left in the bag area, the bag-lady pretended she did not know anything about out bag. She finally relented with a huge grin.
On the way back to our hostel, we made a slight detour to visit the famous Osh Bazaar. It was an amazing kaleidoscope of colours and smells with fruits, vegetables, spices, nuts, cheeses, and a whole range of other goods across several acres. Deryn could have spent days here. After half an hour I headed back to the hostel while Dits whiled away another hour.
We had arranged a driver to pick us up at 10am the next morning – enough time for us to pop out and grab a breakfast at our favourite restaurant; Bublic. In fact, we had probably been there enough for us to be recognised as Booblers; the restaurant’s VIP member card. The drive to our guest house in Kyzyltu and our hosts for the 3-day horse trek to Song-Kol Lake took about 4 hours. We paid 8000 som (about $A130) with a driver in a nice new electric BYD – we stopped twice to recharge; although we think the second time was more for our driver to have his chat to Allah as he popped into a mosque. Interesting that there were regular EV charges along the road. We arrived at the guest house at around 230 only to be told that we would leave after lunch the next day. We always knew that we would be leaving the following day but assumed it would be after breakfast. Symptomatic of the quality of communication in the guest house.
Our guest house had the fancy name of Econest & Horse-riding tours to Song-Kok Lake. We shared the house with a family – 5 of them as well as ourselves an Aussie lad called Riccardo and two German girls called S and Audrey. There was a single toilet stuck under the stairs with a washbasin in the hallway with water only working when the pump was turned on. To access the shower, you had to walk through the kitchen which was the hub of the household. Also, there was nowhere to sit down to relax and the ‘wifi’ was the mother’s hotspot off her phone which maxed out when 3 users were on it. Still the family were lovely and provided a massive lunch. After which Dits and I headed off for a walk to explore the village. Not much to it really – the most impressive part was the graveyard and the 4-lane highway running to the left of the village. Not sure why such a large road was required? The tombstones are impressive – looking like miniature mosques. Must be a great lobbyist in the builder’s guild.
There as a couple from Belgium who has just completed the 3-day trek and said they really enjoyed it. They warned us that the second night in a yurt at the lake was freezing. Turns out they hadn’t lowered their insulation mat on the yurt door so the freezing wind would have whistled in! Anyway, after an early night – no internet and nothing else to do and filling in several hours of doing nothing the next morning, we finally had lunch and started our trek.
First, they allocated us a horse based on our size. The horses were not big but looked strong. Mine must have been the strongest of the horses as he got me as well as the saddle bags packed with Dits and my gear for 3 days. The positive of the saddle bags was the added padding; the negative was that I had to clear them with my leg to get into the saddle. That was beyond my flexibility so we had to find something to stand on before I could get on the horse. Unfortunately, they did not tell us the name of our horses only that “Choo Choo” meant go and “Brttt, brttt” was stop. It certainly worked with my horse. We were joined by 3 Germans for the first half of the journey but as they were only doing the 2-day tour they peeled off half way to head straight to the lake after a couple of hours. It was a beautiful ride though rambling hills – one part we went through a couple of hundred meters of bush that was teeming with crows. Talk about a murder!
The level of riding experience in the group was mixed but generally as soon as one horse decided to up the pace, the others followed. We had the father at the back of the 5 of us and the son at the front. They were pretty chilled as to what we did although a canter was the quickest the horses would move. After about 3.5 hours and 15kms we arrived at our campground in a wide expanse of a valley with at least half a dozen campsites scattered around the valley. There was the clear, cool Kelemchi river running though the middle of it, which I guess is why the camps were located here. We were allocated a yurt – amongst a group of 6 in our campsite – and told dinner would be at 7. Dits and I had a bit of a wander, marveling at the hundred or so horses that grazed around the valley. All the horses that they use for the tours where geldings as the females are for milking. The visible herds were typically mares with their foals and a single stallion. As it was spring nearly every mare was accompanied by a colt and sometimes two. It was incredible to think that a month earlier these meadows were covered in snow. Once the snow melts the nomadic local bring their horses, cows, yaks and sheep into the alpine meadows.
Dinner was held in the larger yurt with horseshoe shaped tabled bedecked with ornate pedestal bowls. There was about 20 of us in the group with a very diverse range of nationalities. Deryn and I were by far the eldest. We love these sorts of adventures when we get to hang out and enjoy the energy of youngsters. Dinner was soup, pasta and plenty of bread. My fears about meat only diets again proved to be misguided. Perhaps I am not going to lose the weight I had hoped?
Dits and I were in bed a good hour or so before the rest of the group. I am reading a book about the Armenian genocide called “The Forty Days at Musa Dagh” and was loving reading it so an early bedtime wasn’t a burden. We both went to bed with socks and longs on and even though the ground bedding had a thick mattress it was still pretty cold overnight. Getting up in the middle of the night for a piddle was damn cold but at least I could avoid the 2 long drops and just go in the wild.
Another great breakfast – they provide a lot of tea as I guess it’s good to counter the dehydration from the altitude – we were about at 2500m; heading to 3300. After struggling back onto my horse, we were on our way again. While our legs and bums were a bit sore at the close of play yesterday, we started the day fresh as daisies. We spent a fair bit of the day climbing – 800m in all – and the views just got better. One of the amazing things was the total lack of anything bigger than grass in these massive expanses of meadows. The altitude and cold makes it impossible for them to survive. At the peak of our climb, at about 3500m, we stopped to enjoy the sweeping view both down to the lake and also from where we had come. We bumped into our Germans who were heading back down – they said it had been really cold the previous night. Great.
Both Dits and my knees were hurting by the time we arrived at our yurt campsite at Song-Kok Lake but again the scenery certainly diluted the pain. We were about a kilometre from the lake edge again with a lot of campsites dispersed around the valley. Again, we were allocated a yurt and the 5 of us cramped into it again. It seemed smaller than the one the previous night but felt better after finding out that one of the groups had 7 in theirs. It rained heavily for about an hour after which Dits, and I decided to head down to the lake edge. We piled on the clothes as it was cold with the lack of sun. Once again, the large herds of mares and colts were amazing, interspersed with the odd cow and sheep. I went for a nudie dip in the water and was amazed at how mild the water was – well above zero. We then went to explore a development over the hill that had 4 chalets built on a hill overlooking the lake. They looked lovely. You just know that this place is going to be developed and eventually its stunning beauty is going to be its downfall. It will become too touristy.
While out walking we saw groups out riding, galloping across the meadows. Dits was really keen for a ride but unfortunately, she was told it was too late. She was really pissed off at the lack of communication as we had no idea an afternoon ride was an option. A few of the youngsters sourced some beers (800 som or $14 for a 750ml bottle) do before long a group of about 12 or so were playing drinking games with some of the older guides. Turns out that a few of the (married) guides got a bit fresh with the younger ladies. Very dodgy. We met a German lady called Sandra who was heading to Karakul at the same time as us, so we decided to hire a car together. Dinner was fun with the group getting more comfortable with each other, helped with some alcohol, so there was plenty of banter.
Again, we were the first in bed although as dinner wasn’t until 8, it certainly wasn’t early for us. The night was not nearly as cold as we were expecting, in fact we thought it was warmer than the night before. Neither Dits nor I slept that well, apparently the altitude is to blame as your body has to work that much harder. We were up and away around 9.15 after a breakfast that was a bit below par with the cold fried eggs hard to stomach. Dits managed to get some warm ones as she asked for some well-done ones. We were told it was 4 hours back to the guest house and roughy 18kms. The ride was definitely the best of the 3 days. After climbing about 300 metres, we descended alongside really steep valleys at a very steep incline – hard work for the horses and even harder work for our knees. The scenery was unbelievable.
Everyone was really struggling by the time we made it back to our guest house. What an incredible experience. There was a group of Portuguese about to head out on the trek including a couple that were potentials for the Portuguese World Cup rugby team. Those big boys are going to have fun on those horses!! We decided not to shower but grab a quick lunch and then get away. We were both shattered but feeling blessed at what we had experienced.