Category: Kyrgyzstan

Deryn found this new little guesthouse a little way out of the town of Teplokyuchenka, close to some local hot springs.  It was also the exit point for the most well-known hike in Kyrgyzstan, the 4-day Ala-Kul hike.  We had intended to do it but decided we were not fit enough to do the 1600m climb on the second day to 3900m. Sandra had headed out to Ganbar guesthouse the day before so thankfully she was there to welcome us when we arrived.  Once again Google Maps was a challenge.  Our room was lovely and our host Sahil was there with a fruit platter. However, the rest of the established was still very much in development.  There were 3 rooms of which Sahil had taken 1. He was an IT bod from Azerbaijan who had married a Kyrgyz lady and decided it was time for a sea change.  He had ambitious plans for his guesthouse and given the rapid growth in the local tourism sector, he is probably on to a winner.  

We decided to let him cook us dinner (duck) but before that it was time for a hike – basically doing a bit of the last day of the Ala-Kul hike down the Alta Arashan valley.  We could have grabbed a taxi to the Altyn and walked the 15km back but the thought of 2 hours on a very bumpy road put us off.  So, we walked halfway, had some lunch and walked home. The scenery was really beautiful although the regular flow of traffic – most which was the famous Russian workhorse UAZ-452.

Before dinner Sahir drove us the ‘local’ hot springs, by passing the more touristy Ak-Suu Kench hot springs.  It was lovely relaxing in the warm water after the hike.  There was a shower drawing water directly from the nearby Aksu River – nice way to cool off after soaking in the hot water.  It cost us 300 Som each, the entry fee included a nice little dust up between a couple of local ladies.  Sahir’s dinner was OK but a a little bit too much oil. He really did try hard though.   The next day was a bit of a chill-out day with Dits hanging in the village in the morning and then walking to the touristy hot baths after lunch.  They were slightly more expensive at 400 Som but so much better.  The hottest pool was impossible to even stand in – I cannot believe anyone could cope with it.  The cold pool was actually part of the river – you had to be careful not to be swept into the river when sitting in it. When we got home, I told Sahil he should not discourage his guests going to it as it really is much better than his local one.   I guess we may been spoiled as there were not that many people there.  We grabbed a Yandex into town for dinner and had a really great meal at a Japanese restaurant called Aori.  We had a cow pay a visit while we were in bed which was nice until she emptied her bowels nearby and stunk the place out

Next morning we grabbed a Yandex to Jyrgalan – initially the driver was a bit reluctant as he was fearful his BYD would not cope with the roads.  The 90 minutes drive was basically one continuous roadwork.  Jyrgalan is being developed into a ski resort – a Euro 1.2b mega resort spanning 3 peaks with over 250km skiable terrain.  They get over 3 metres of snow a year. It’s meant to open Dec 26, but by the look of it it’ll be a bit later than that.  The level of development is insane – with hundreds of massive pipes bing laid, roads rebuilt and not to mention the actual ski fields. A lot of houses in the village looked decrepit; perhaps sold to be knocked down and rebuilt into lodges.  Will be really interesting to see what happens to the local horse, cattle and sheep farmers.

Our guesthouse – called the curious Mine Hostel – was run by a family of Russians who come down every summer to live on the local horse milk.  Very good for you apparently. The place was 2 stories with 3 rooms upstairs for guests although 1 was taken by a sickly old family member.  There was also a yurt outside.  We unpacked and then decided to do the 14km round trip hike to Turnaluu-Kol Lake.  The first part of the hike was a bit of challenge as we were basically waking through roadworks but once we got into the hills it was lovely.  Loads of horses, the odd cow and the rare sheep. We were welcomed by a couple of cranes when we finally made it to the lake.  The lake wasn’t for swimming, but it was certainly relaxing lying on the soft grass around it and enjoying the peace and quiet. While we only climbed 500m, the 2500m altitude made the last 2 km a bit of a grind. Dinner was the usual guesthouse fare – salad, soup and pasta.

The next morning Deryn and I booked in a horse ride to Kok-Bel waterfall at 2pm. We headed into explore the town and grab some lunch from a local café.  The town had a power failure, so it was some local cold fare – which actually turned out to be really good.  We ate it by the river and enjoyed watching some young horses come down to the river for a drink.  The horse ride was 5500 Som for the guides plus 1800 for each rider. Our guide was a 15 year over chatty local kid who was joined by his 18-year-old, a lot less chatty, cousin.   They were anti us doing any cantering as ‘we could fall”.  I think they had concerns about my ability as a rider.  Damn annoying.   We did manage to get a few canters in later in the ride which was nice. We spent about an hour climbing up the valley before leaving the horses and walking the last 400m to the falls.  Again, they were OK – again more of a journey than a destination.  The return leg was a lot more enjoyable as we kept off the road and spent more time in the paddocks.  The 2 kids were a bit annoying as they were continually using their horses to bump into each other. The 15 years olds horse ran off when he got off to pick up his hat which would have been embarrassing. The older cousin jumped on the runaway when we captured him and gave him a couple of very hard whips as punishment.  We stopped at the family farm for a glass of very smokey horse milk before cantering home just as the heavens were opening.

Our ride back into Karakol the next morning was a big Ute with a 4-seat cabin.  It was actually very comfortable over the bumpy roads.  We got the driver to drop us off at Aori again so we could grab some lunch before separating from Sandra. It was sad to say goodbye as we had spent over a week travelling together.   We will miss her. We grabbed a Yandex (4000 Som) to Chalton Ata -a 2-hour drive from Karakol.  I had convinced Deryn to book a decent hotel on the lake front because I really wanted to just lay in the sun for a couple of days doing nothing before heading back to our day jobs. The hotel was called Silent and it was costing us $A300 for 2 nights.

The hotel was perfect – although a room with lake views would have been better.  We unpacked and then headed to the lakefront for a swim. As noted before, Issyk Kul is unique in that it doesn’t freeze and is endorheic – ie no outflow.  The beach was packed with Sunday revellers. It’s a perfect spot for kids as the water is warm and shallow for at least 50m from the shoreline. Lovely. The snowy peaks of the Tian Shan mountains seemed to float like clouds across the southern part of the lake. You could hire recliners and umbrellas for a mere 300 Som a day so that was tomorrow sorted. We walked to a local restaurant in the village – very little western tourists in this part of the world so no English.  The area was popular with the Russians who used to come down in their hordes as package tours in the good old days of the USSR.

We headed out early to visit the local Petroglyphs Museum before it got too hot.  It was an outdoor museum of 42 hectares that contained over 2000 carvings onto the many boulders that are a feature of Kyrgyzstan’s glacial past.  Some of the carvings are over 4000 years old.  We spent 45 minutes wandering around but really struggled to make out many of the carvings. It was back to Silence, breakfast and the beach until around 2 when we decided that was enough sun. Our time in Kyrgyzstan is coming to a close.  This county is going to change immensely in the next 5 or so years as the tourist wave engulfs it.  We just really hope that the things that made this place to special does not get ruined by too many people coming here to experience it.  It’s been a magic 7 weeks with my bestie

Deryn managed to organise a driver from our hotel in Karakol to pick us up in Naryn, drive us to our guest house on the southern shores of Issyk Kul and then drive us to the canyon, waterfall and finally on to Karakol. All for the pricey sum of 17,000 Som ($280). We decided against paying an additional 8,000 Som for an SUV. Our original quote from the tourist office in Naryn was 14,800 Som just to our lake guest house.  

We got picked up at 9.15 with Sandra already in the car. It was an easy drive to the little village and the Umar guest house, although again we marvelled at the amount of roadworks (and development) going on. Kyrgyzstan really is pumping billions into roading infrastructure.  Issyk Kul is quite unique as although it is nearly 1900m above sea level it does not freeze because of its salinity and nearby thermal springs.

We were met at the guest house by Nora, a daughter of the family that owned it.  She was down for a holiday, living in Bishkek working for a tourism company.  Her English was really good.  We had a choice of a room downstairs with a big bathroom or a room upstairs (with great views) but with a tiny bathroom (and I mean really tiny – you had to sit sideways on the toilet).  We chose the view.  I noticed on a laminated pamphlet that said there was eagle viewing available.  I checked with Nora who said she could arrange it for 5,500 Som as a group charge.  Bargain.  She also recommended a restaurant down the road in a resort for lunch.  The resort was very tidy but was only partially completed.  It certainly will be impressive when done. The food was OK but half the stuff we ordered wasn’t available.  Nora had arranged the eagle viewing for 630 with our driver taking us there for an additional 500 Som.

We all jumped in the car, including Nora, at 610.  She was joining us as finding the location wasn’t that easy.  After a 15-minute drive, Nora informed us we had to walk up this hill to meet with the eagle crew.  It took us about 15 minutes to get to the top, only to find that the eagle crew were over the other side in a valley.  We could have driven there in the car.  We decided to walk there rather than turning round.  Nora felt she had to escort us while the driver headed back to the car to drive it around the hill to meet us. It took us about 15 minutes to get down as Deryn and Sandra both had sandles on. The eagle crew consisted of an elder and 2 junior apprentices.  One of the apprentices took an eagle and climbed up to the top of the hill from where we had just come.  The elder then talked us through the process of training the eagles – they typically start training them when chicks but can train them up to 5 years old.  Once the eagle reaches 15 years, they let them loose back into the wild – after a transition period.   Golden eagles can live up to 35 years .  

The second apprentice took one of the eagles across the paddock so that it could chase a rabbit skin tied to some rope attached to the elder’s horse. The speed of the eagle as it attacked the skin was incredible.  Then it was the turn off the eagle up the hill. The elder held up his arm and called the eagle – it would have been at least 600m away.  Hearing and watching it swoop in to land on his arm and grab the bit of rabbit the elder was holding was again impressive.  The size of the eagle’s talons and the strength of its beak as it ripped the rabbit skin showed how eagles can hunt wild dogs etc.  As an aside it took the kid about a 1 minutes to get from the top of the hill back us.  The one that took us 15!!

Then it was the chance of the 3 hunting Afghan hounds to hunt a rabbit skin by a piece of rope attached to a horse.  The dogs were strange looking things – but again could certainly move.  Dits and I got to then don some local gear and have a chance holding the eagles on the super thick glove.  The one we held was 5kg, so it was understandable why the elder had a wooden stick to help keep his arm extended.  They need to be held at arms length from the horse or else they can damage their tail feathers.  Holding anything weighing 5kgs at arms length is impossible for any length of time

We then got to do some archery.  Firing at a target about 25m away.  After a couple of sighters, Deryn and I both got our aim in.  I even managed to hit within the circle of the bullseye.  The elder was obviously impressed with my ability, so he offered me the chance of shooting at a moving target – a 50cm wide foam disk.  I hit it with my second attempt much to everyone’s, including mine, surprise. We finished off the evening with a meal at a local restaurant, shouting both the driver and Nora as a sign of thanks.  Easy to be generous when the meal for 5 of us cost $A40.

We got away early next next morning as we had a full agenda.  The first stop was the Fairytale Canyon; or the Great Wall of China as our driver called it because of the steep wall of sandstone that ran for several kilometres through the canyon.  The canyon is comprised of red Neogen-era clay and sandstone. The colours and rocks sculptures were amazing – hence the name Fairytale.  The colours reminded Deryn and I of the coloured mountains in northern Argentina; although the source of those colours twas choral. We spent a fun hour exploring the myriads of shapes and colours before deciding it was getting a bit busy and time to get back on the road. Our driver enjoyed the stop as much as we did. Next stop was the Barksoon Waterfall.

The road to the waterfall was one big roadwork – even more so than the road alongside Issyk Kul. Our driver said the road was being developed to get the gold out of the mountains (gold is key source of Kyrgyzstan revenue).  We parked in a yurt camp and headed up into the hills for a bit of a hike to the falls. It took us about 25 min of non-stop climbing to reach the first waterfall – there are 3 cascading falls. The lower waterfall was OK but nothing special.  That’s not to say it wasn’t lovely being in the wilds. Our driver said we should climb up to the upper falls, but it was a very sketchy climb – after initially saying no we thought what the hell and up we went. We could see the second waterfall from our higher point but decided against going any higher.  We then bumped into a group of tourists who had walked up from the yurt camp on a different path.   Their path took you past a lower waterfall which they thought was it.  They were pleased to know it wasn’t.  We headed down the path to check out the other waterfall.  Once again, they were just OK. Under instructions from our driver, I dipped my head under the water.  Not as cold as I expected. There were about 7 or 8 Germans girls there who were spending a year in Kyrgyzstan teaching German.  Apparently, Germany is a country of choice for emigrants or those looking for work

We grabbed an awful coffee and got back on the road to Karakol. It was nearly 4 by the time we arrived at our hotel. Virtually every time we use Google Maps in this country we end up in strange places. Must be a better local version.  The hotel was very Russian but nice.  As it was getting to the end of our trip, we were gradually increasing our nightly budget on accommodation – the Tagaytay Karakol Hotel was the $A75 per night.    We were shattered so decided to go for a walk and grab an early dinner. The hotel gave us a nearby recommendation which was another of there very Chinese restaurants – in appearance nor cuisine.  I did the ordering and completely botched it up.  We thought we would have some bread while playing cards then order a main to share.  I ordered a bread platter followed by creamy chicken to follow later.  They brought out the bread quickly which comprised of these little dough balls that you dipped into some very tasty cheese dip.  We were 1/3 of the way though when the waiter came out and said it was the wrong order and took the dish away.   Language challenges made it impossible to convince him to leave it and flag the other order. The other order arrived and it was a massive plate of bread.  Should have know as it cost 800 Son.

Breakfast was an impressive buffet with a broad range of sweets and savouries.  Best of all there was a coffee shop next door that made decent coffees. Suitably nourished we headed off to our first destination – the Holy Trinity Cathedral – a Russian Orthodox Church made entirely from wood.  We had to walk through the main square to get to the church which was a hive of activity with a stage being set up for some event later in the day.  Karakol was a lot more Chinese (and probably Muslim) than other places we had visited.  It was also a lot less touristy.  The cathedral was impressive with golden domes glistening in the sunlight. The original church was destroyed by an earthquake in 1889 and replaced by a wooden one.  The church was surrounded by lovely gardens.  Next stop was the mosque – no accusations of religious favouritism with Dits and me.  We ended going the wrong way getting to the mosque so we got to see a lot more of Karakol than we intended which was great in a way.  We stumbled across a lovely little café so took the opportunity to grab some lunch – a chicken panini no less.  The mosque itself was a waste of space – really not worth the time and effort.  As they say, “it’s the journey that matters not the destination”.

We headed back to our hotel and Deryn grabbed a massage from a “strong Russian woman” while I spent some time writing the blog. We did a bit more research on a place for dinner and ended finding a place that provided a much better experience than the prior evening. It took a while to get to sleep as the activity we saw in the square tuned out to be a concert – mostly DJs with a fair bit of base.  Thankfully, it finished at 10.  In the morning we were heading to a new little guest house in the mountain town of Teploklyuchenka for a bit more hiking.

Our taxi to Naryn picked us up word clear instructions to pick up our German friend Sandra at her guesthouse just down the road.  Well, that’s what we thought.  Our first inkling that some miscommunication had occurred was when the driver asked if we could take another couple of travellers. We said no.  We headed out of town and away from where we thought Sandra was staying.  Again, we asked our driver, but communication was impossible.  After about 15 mins we insisted he pull over and we showed him where we believed Sandra was.  The light finally came on. He was not happy.  We gave him another 2000 Som on top of the agreed 7000 and that did the trick.  Next challenge was finding Sandra’s guesthouse once we had driven the 25kms back to where we started.  We must have stopped and got directions 4 times before we finally found here. 45 mins later.  Thankfully, she was still waiting!!

Once underway the drive took about 4 hours. A lesson of travelled in Kyrgyzstan is that it always takes a lot longer than you expect. There seems to a lot of roadworks mostly funded internally but 20% coming from the Asian Development Bank. As tourism becomes a larger and larger part of the economy; which it will, good roads will certainly help.  We got dropped off first at our guesthouse Uruyat. It was a room in an apartment located in one of the many dour looking apartment blocks covering Naryn.  The town was located in a valley created by the Naryn river which runs through the Tian Shan mountain range.  The mountains were completely devoid of vegetation and reminded us of the landscape in northern Argentina. Apparently, the town is the coldest in Kyrgyzstan – some boast. Again, the amount of development going into the local infrastructure was impressive – all the pavements were building sites. Our room was lovely, covered in rugs and offset by a magnificent chandelier.   We put some washing (lots of muddy tramping gear) and headed out to the nearest restaurant – very Chinese themed. The food was fine and extremely cheap.

We put on another load of washing when we got home and crashed, thankful to be not sleeping in a yurt. We got awoken an hour later (10pm) by some entitled Russian twat demanding that we remove our finished washing from the washing machine as he wanted to use it.  I was very restrained.  I got woken a couple of hour later by a scratching noise coming from the plastic bag containing our tramping boots.  I hate to think what was in there, but I didn’t look; simply grabbed the bag and chucked it outside onto our balcony.  Whatever was in there was gone next morning. 

First thing we needed to do in the morning was get to Naryn tourist office and see if our permit or travel to Kel-Suu had arrived.  Because the lake is a mere 10km’s from the Chinese boarder, the whole area is tightly controlled and a permit is needed.  Normally it costs $A45 but as we had left it late, we had to get a Super Express permit costing $65 – it had to be taken by taxi from Bishkek.  As feared it wasn’t there and the very aggressive lady who was meant to be organising it said it was our fault as we had not confirmed the PayPal payment.  A bit difficult when you’re out of phone signal in the mountains.  Anyway, after some not so friendly banter, we committed have it to us by 9am the next day.  The tourist centre also organised our accomodation up at the lake.  We tagged ourselves on the trip that Sandra had organised a few weeks earlier from Germany – brought the cost down from Euro 245 to around 130 each. It wasn’t clear whether Dits and I had to pay more for our yurt and food, but it would not be much if we had to.

We weren’t too fussed if the permit didn’t turn up in time because the weather forecast wasn’t pretty for the trip but a day later it looked a lot less dire. Time will tell.  We decided o climb some stairs up a hill near the restaurant we visited last night.  When we got there, we were disappointed to see the entrance taped off as they were still under construction. Not to be deterred, we climbed around the tape and climbed the 250 off steps – at times there were no steps just metal railings – to be rewarded with sweeping views across this quirky little town. We decided to try a restaurant that Sandra had recommended for dinner– although it was 2.5km’s away we thought it would be a great way to see more of the town.  We walked down the river and crossed over a swing bridge – the Naryn river was certainly in full flow.  A very brownish colour, not the clear alpine water.  There was a cute little park on the way that was full of kids enjoying the many powered cars, bikes and scooters.  Looked like fun. The restaurant was certainly worth the walk.  Dits and I got carried away and ordered a main each rather than the standard fried egg plant starter, salad and one main.  We took a doggy bag home with us, enjoying a different route home that took us though a very busy part of town. Seemed like everyone was out doing their evening shopping.

The weather was fine when we woke up so fingers crossed our permit is ready. It was!!  Our car was a newish 4-wheel Toyota with a lovely chap as our driver.  He said we was 65 but looked 45.  We were on the road to the lake by 915 so should be at our campsite by 1. We started climbing into the mountains within 45 minutes and within an hour we were driving on dirt roads.  Getting through the guarded entrance with our permits was painless; while we were waiting another car pulled up with 5 of our fellow horse-riding group. Small world.  The road got worse and unfortunately it started raining.  The landscape was incredible – so remote, pocketed with the odd herd of horses or sheep and yurts. About 20 mins from the entrance gate, we got a puncture.  By now it was raining pretty hard so changing the tyre was not a lot of fun. Thankfully our driver was a pro.  Its sill took us 30 mins and no sign of the car with our colleagues.  They finally turned up as we were finishing up – they had got a puncture as well.  We later found out that another car had got 2 punctures on the way up!!

By the time we got to our campsite it was raining pretty hard and it was cold. There were at least half a dozen campsites dotted around the valley – some of them with some pretty fancy central eating/chilling huts. Ours was another slightly larger yurt. After a very tasty lunch we headed back to our yurt to chill and get warm – they had started a fire in the heater in our yurt, so it was toasty – almost too hot.  After about an hour the rain stopped so we made the call to head out and do the hike.  It’s about a 4-hour return trip over 14kms so at it was 2.45 now that gave us plenty of time.  I grabbed a poncho off a local as my old windbreaker wasn’t that waterproof. I was damn lucky I did as within 15 minutes it started raining again.

It was hard going as we had to continually avoid pools of water or boggy mud. Some tourist came past on horses which on reflection may have been a smart move. Then a bunch of local tourists came past in a 4-wheel drive – even a better idea?  While hard going and disappointing that we weren’t getting the views of the incredible rocky, jagged peaks, it was still spectacular. The horse trail took them through the main river, which was impassable on foot, which led onto a dry road all the way to the peak. We had to cross a stream on a vert sketchy plank and then clamber over hills as the path itself was too slippery.  In certain areas there was sheer drops on the side of the path so there was no way we were going anywhere near it. The last km was a climb of about 200m up a big bank that was created when the earthquake in the 80’s caused a mountainside to collapse and block the river and hence created the lake.  The water gushing out of the bottom of the bank was incredible.  Apparently, the lake will quite often empty out if there wasn’t enough water flowing into it. That certainly wasn’t a risk today.

The lake was incredible.  Sheer granite cliffs surrounding a turquoise lake.  What a shame it wasn’t a clear blue sky.  About a 1km before the lake a young local tumbled out of a caravan parked in a meadow in the middle of nowhere asking if we wanted a boat ride on the lake. Given how miserable it was we said no; thinking that it was a bit weird. Now at the lake we could see at least half a dozen boats of differing shape and size moored on the lake edge. Must have been an absolute nightmare getting them here. On a sunny day, a boat trip up the 11km of the lake would be majestic.  Today, not so much.

After grabbing a bite and a drink we steeled ourselves for the return journey.  We did briefly flirt with the idea of getting a horse ride home; or at least across the river so we could take the solid road down, but it was all too hard.  At least by now we knew to keep off the path which made it a bit easier.  The plank across the river was even more inundated but what the hell we were going to get wet boots anyway, so we just ploughed through. It certainly was a test of endurance, but we made it back to the yurt after nearly 2 hours. The poncho had protected me a lot better than the ladies’ raincoats as they were both freezing and couldn’t wait to get their wet clothes off in the very warm yurt. I took 500som and the ripped poncho – it was a never cheap plastic one, so it ripped easily – back to the local that lent it to me. He wouldn’t accept the money, but I insisted.

We enjoyed a meal and then headed to bed. They had put some more fuel on our fire in our yurt, so the place was roasting. It was too hot to sleep and just when it had cooled a bit and we had dropped off to sleep we were woken by one of the hosts in our yurt putting more fuel in the fire.  Noooooo!  After a poor, sweaty sleep we grabbed a quick breakfast and set off back to Naryn. Thankfully, the weather was still average so our decision to do the hike the previous afternoon was the right one.  We were also pleased to see our driver in good nick as the mother had told us over dinner the previous night that he had fallen off a horse and cracked his head open.  Not him apparently.

The road was even more boggy on the return journey. About an hour in we were flagged down by a lady on the side of the road.  Her and her male partner had driven their UAZ-452 Russian made van (you see them everywhere) into a meadow thinking they were going to a canyon.  They ended up getting bogged and had been stuck there for a day and a half.  Their rental company had refused to help. Our hero driver got the van out in 5 minutes with some expert driving. The couple were so grateful they shared some Belgium chocolates with all of us.  Our accomodation back at Uruyat Guest House was luxury.  As was the warm shower.

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.