Kyrgyzstan: Vegans need not apply

Good omens on our departure morning from China, clear blue skies overhead as we breezed through the five border checkpoints out of China, over the Torugart Pass and into Kyrgyzstan where we met our cheery local guide for the country, Erkin.

Traffic on the way into Kyrgyzstan

The contrast between the countries was immediately visible, our senses started to relax and take in the scenery as we headed up into the Kara-Koun gorge to Tash Rabat, meaning stone fortress, where a well preserved 15^th century stone caravanserai remains.  

Two tranquil nights were spent there in yurts, kept warm by the diligent farmers who rose numerous times in the night in -15c temperatures to re-heat our yak dung stoves.  A cherished free day was spent hiking and horse riding in the surrounding hills. Mark is now on the look out to buy a horse! Nights were spent huddled in the communal yurt or small room in the farmer’s house, toasting a new country and reflecting on the contrast between the cities and deserts of China and our new found wilderness. Complete with a mad hatter style tea party, the Kyrgyz do love to have bowls of overflowing sweets, a mainstay of every dinner table.

Tash Rabat

Yurt dining room

Brightly decorated yurts

Vicky, Bree & Linc go riding

Rogs & Hels

Phill on the world's slowest horse

Barb back in the saddle

Adrian

Dave & Dr Bruce - "What are you wearing today?"

Rogs & Sam out hiking in the hills

Spot the truck

Anna & a cat

Rae & Phill relaxing in the sun

Another average night time shot...

The next morning not even our beer keg style prayer wheels fitted to the rear of the truck could prevent the diesel from freezing overnight.  Hot water appeared by the thermos full to pour on the pipes and the stove was lit underneath the truck to heat the diesel tank. Mouthfuls of diesel later, numb hands and finally Calypso spluttered into life and we were able to make our way out of the gorge.

Sam has a go at spinning the prayer wheels

Heating the diesel tank

Our next stop was Kochkor for the night and a display of traditional felt making, an ancient art still practiced widely in Central Asia.  The group beating the felt with long metal rods, jumping up and down to agitate and bind the fibers, resulting in a mini-masterpiece of art, I’m sure you’ll agree…  The evening’s accommodation was a homestay where another overflowing table of delights tempted us, accompanied by some entertaining local music.

Tasty alternative lunch stop

Felt making

Dr Bruce jumps around

The masterpiece

Russian Gangster Rogs

Local musical entertainment

Accordionist takes a liking to Bree

Local Kyrgyz men

Heading East along the south shore of 182km long Lake Issyk-Kul our lunch stop included a close encounter with a golden eagle.  On spotting a battered dark grey VW golf waiting by the side of the road we turned off and followed it up into the nearby valley where the boot was opened, and out popped the majestic eagle.  We all had a chance to feel the weight of this grand bird on our arm, cameras clicked away at the unmissable photo opportunity.  Also out of the car came a fluffy bunny rabbit.  The eagle hunter placed him happily on the ground in front of us then climbed a hill and released the bird.  Displaying his gigantic wingspan against the arid landscape he swooped down and at the first attempt had the rabbit pinned underneath his strong talons.  Diving in for the kill he rapidly went about devouring his snack.  A tourist display for us but the birds are not kept as pets they are hunting partners, the Kyrgyz men training them from birth, their hunting skills often helping to feed their families through the winter.

That's not a truck, that's a bus!

Pushing a Lada into a fuel station

Mark loses the bird

Bruce

Ruch

A short while later we bumped into our Dragoman friends travelling in the opposite direction.  A quick exchange of information and a mutually beneficial currency swap between crew.  Adrian on the other hand making friends by offering Vodka shots and in return them sharing the results of their extensive Vodka tasting, win win!

Adrian making friends with Dragoman

Bottoms up

Djety Oguz is a regular favourite on the trips and for very good reason.  The stunning gorge accessed by five log bridges over a glacial melt river, the bridges of varying width and strength.  Just in case they couldn’t take any more the group jumped out to walk across each time. We literally burned our bridges as one as one of them had taken too many poorly driven trucks and we managed to save a few train sleepers hanging off the edge to add to our bulging wood rack.

No. 1 log bridge into Djety Oguz

Stocking up on firewood

Autumn having arrived and temperatures dropping meant all the farmers had left the gorge with their animals and yurts, keen to pack up and move to lower climes before the snow arrives leaving no grazing pasture, leaving it all to us for a peaceful couple of days for hiking, a leisurely cooked breakfast of bacon, eggs and baked beans and lazing around in the warm daytime sunshine.

Evil looking squirrels

Truck party time

Getting messy

The aftermath

Morning face painting - Tan, Hels & Vicky

Who touched Phill's bum?

Hels & Rogs and the Seven Bulls

Arriving back down in Karakol we were reunited with Robbie who had remained behind in the warmth of homely Jamilya’s B&B after being diagnosed with a touch of pneumonia.  Two days of stationary R&R had thankfully returned the colour to his cheeks.  Luckily for him with a doctor and three nurses on the trip there would not be a shortage of volunteers to administer one of his thrice-daily jabs in the bottom.  Becoming less shy by the day his bottom, somewhat resembling a pin cushion, would often be seen in the truck or by the campfire.

Karakol, previously a Russian military outpost, is a pretty town to the far East of the country.  Typical gingerbread style houses line the main streets and some paid a quick visit to the Russian Orthodox Holy Trinity Cathedral.  It was also time to stock up on cheap vodka and food in the local markets for the forthcoming bushcamps.

Holy Trinity Cathedral

Meat market

Funky cow shaped knife

We want that leg... oh no, sorry we don't

Bacon at last

Pasties

The roar of engines over breakfast signaled the arrival of two mini Russian monster trucks, our transport up to Altyn Arashan, driven by serious looking camo-clad drivers.  Set in an alpine valley we bumped and jolted our way steeply up a boulder strewn track to our home for the next couple of nights.  A rickety collection of buildings containing various dorm rooms with narrow metal beds and a cosy communal room with stove and attached wood store.  A little way down the hill towards the icy river were some wooden huts containing hot sulfurous pools, fed by the surrounding hot springs.  They were the perfect way to ease the aches out of the day and enjoyed with some creamy home made Mars Bar Vodka.  After devouring a delicious cauldronx of pumpkin soup we kept the hut warm dancing with the locals and trying out our Russian.  Darting out to visit the small green wooden huts housing long drop loos snow began to fall. 

Russian monster truck driver

Luxurious velour interior

Halloween comes early for Lisa

Cook group making pumpkin soup - or playing with pumpkin soup?

Judy out chopping

Hot springs

Dr Bruce tasting the Mars Bar vodka

The following morning we emerged to find the surrounding hillside beautifully covered in a light blanket of snow.  The day also heralded Phill’s birthday which started off with the presentation of a Gangnam Style singing purple inflatable donkey, just what he always wanted!  Another delightful day of hiking, searching for wildlife or simply relaxing in the hot springs, reading by the fire, knitting or day-time napping.  All the stops were pulled out for Phill’s birthday meal, three legs of lamb, expertly de-boned by Dave, roasted on the fire, accompanied by crispy roast potatoes.

Altyn Arashan refuge

Toilet huts

Phill rides his birthday donkey Gangnam Style

Phill and his cake

Butcher's knife table tennis

Cat knitting a merkin for Anna

Rogs posing for Farmer's Weekly

Rogs does The Shining

Butcher Dave de-boning the lamb

Rogs de-fatting the lamb

Butchers and lumberjacks at work

Mini polar bear or stoat?

The sick bay

How some of the group have been feeling...

Anna braves the camping to avoid the snoring

Out hiking in the snow

Obscene snowman making

Vicky & Hels riding shotgun

Suzie enjoying herself too much...

Chris loading up

After making our way back down the valley we drove back along the north shore of Lake Issyk-Kul aka to us as Lake Icicle but bizarrely literally meaning “hot lake”.  Rows of poplars cast dappled Autumn sunlight on the road and the massive snow-capped mountains of the Tian Shan range watched over us from all sides, ringing the entire lake region.  Roadside stalls sold buckets of apples, walnuts and raspberries, smoked fish, mead wine and honey.

Donkey comes along for the ride

Smoked salmon en route

Arriving at our lakeside bushcamp in the heat of the day brave couldn’t resist a refreshing dip, the Aussie’s screaming louder, less used to the cool waters.  Sundowners on our private beach gave way to calm waters, a starry night and full moon.

The brave taking a dip in Lake Icicle, brrrr!

Mark & Vicky decide to move their tent to the beach

Sundowners on the beach

Steaming pasta bake

Sunrise on the beach

Early morning cook group - Adrian warming up the fire

Sue

Travelling further along the lake the next day we stopped off for lunch on a disused runway, the common sight of a derelict factory from soviet times on the hill behind us.  Everything down to the metal window frames sold to China on independence, as was the case with anything of any value from the soviet factories.  After lunch we searched the granite boulders nearby to find the ancient Petroglyphs.  Images of deer, goats and hunting burnt black and brown into the surface over the years.

Lunch on a runway

Tan & Mark

Petroglyphs

Campfire by the lake

Mmmm... do we have enough chicken?

Donkey goes local

We’re now freshly showered and laundered in Bishkek, armed with recently acquired Uzbek visas, ready for a couple more bushcamps before heading into the Ferghana Valley and on into country number four, Uzbekistan.

This country will take a lot of beating.  If it isn’t on your list already, it really should be.