Kyrgyzstan

We crossed into Kyrgyzstan at around 3pm at 6,500 ft (over 2,000 ft higher than Ben Nevis). For the first time in a month I was experiencing “clouds”. We also had a one hour time difference going east – the only “Stan” on UTC +5. The border crossing was the easiest of all. The chap even asked how old I was – first time I’d been asked since turning 60. I think it’s fair to say that I wasn’t your typical Kyrgyzstani 60 year old male. They weather more rapidly in Central Europe. Anyway, I took it as a compliment as opposed to small talk. My prerogative. Interestingly, Russian passports don’t allow anyone to have a photo of themselves older than 45 years old. New learning. They are required to get passports at the ages of 14, 20 and 45. They only last ten years so I’m not quite sure how all that works.

We headed towards our evening slumber in Karakol, passing a variety of herded animals. We had cows, horses and sheep, hold us up temporarily, during the drive. And every few miles there was a roadside cemetery. Never did get to the bottom of that one, but some of the structures were quite large.

We bussed to dinner, but I left soon after. I wasn’t that hungry and dinner for 11 takes a while. 40 minutes later I was back at the hotel searching in vain for the trouser press.

The following morning we had a tour of the city which took in some highlights and lowlights. The Holy Trinity Orthodox Church looked much better from a distance. Religion was prohibited in Soviet times. In the 1920’s the soviet government banned Islam in Central Asia.

Next was a supremely unattractive mosque built by the Durgan people. Durgan’s were Chinese Muslims who were exiled from China in 1877 after some altercation. After seeing the mosque, the altercation could have been crimes against architecture.

Our third delight of the morning was a market selling dried fruit. Really? Dried fruit looks much the same in all countries. What I will say for Kyrgyzstan, is that they have the best toilet paper of all five stans. Thick and velvety unlike Tajikistan which was almost elasticated. The whole group agreed.

We left town heading toward Issyk-Kul Lake where we would spend time at a yurt camp for two nights. There was a communal element to the accommodation which some took better than others. I was firmly in the indignant camp.

Before that we were heading for some scenic stops starting with Heartbreak Rock. Some legend explains why it’s got a split down the middle. Two men fighting over one girl. She was killed. It was there that I found the most challenging toilet of the trip. It easily made the bottom three of exterior bogs I’ve encountered. Pardon the pun.

The highlight was a family gathering across the road. It was grandma’s 72nd birthday.

A few miles further on was another landmark of the gorge – the seven bulls. We walked up a hill to get panoramic views.

We continued west along bumpy roads to Fairy Tale Canyon. It was like a lunar landscape and I could’ve spent time there exploring. It was also the finish line for the Six Day Issyk-Kul Challenge, and the runners were coming in. Billed as the longest 6-stage foot race in the world, runners have to complete 460 km around the lake – at altitude.

We reached our accommodation- a yurt camp, early evening and I was sharing with Los Angeles Paul, and London John. Some of us were dreading the communal living (including me), but it turned out fine. Two excellent yurt mates. We had plenty of room inside. The duvets were very heavy and the temperature had dropped significantly – below 50f. We all ended up having a fun evening. There was another group there too with 16 people.

Sunday was our second yurt night which meant that I could wriggle out of the daily activities if I wanted to. I did. I had a peaceful day of admin, reading, walking, and freezing my nuts off.

Earlier that morning I’d spoken with Louis from the G Adventures group. He was a big Samoan chap living in New Zealand. In his mid 20’s he’d played against a young Tongan called Jonah Lomu in a rugby sevens event. Jonah blew them away. So sad he died just 40 from a heart attack linked to kidney disease.

The following morning, we said goodbye to our yurt camp. The setting was highly spectacular, but the accommodation and the “falicites”, not so much. It had been the coldest and cloudiest stop of our trip. The three of us in Yurt 1 had all slept fully clothed. LA Paul even wore his quilted jacket. The sun had re-emerged and the scenery along the way was pleasing to the eye. Some of it reminded me of the American West.

As we drove toward Bishkek, the capital of Kyrgyzstan, the roads improved. After a few hours in the bus, we stopped at a minaret and most of us climbed the steep narrow staircase to the top – on all fours.

We drove a few minutes more to a compound for a local family lunch. I don’t look forward to this type of activity (you may have worked that out), but this one was enjoyable. I found out a little about Kyrgyzstan marriage traditions – once again, different from the other stans. Sons have to get married in order and the youngest son, once married, has to stay and look after the parents as the designated carer. The wives have a hierarchy – the spouse of the oldest brother ranks highest, whilst the wife of the youngest brother has to make sure everyone is fed and watered at family events. The groom’s family celebrate and welcome the new addition to the clan, whilst the bride’s family bid a tearful farewell to their daughter (never to be seen again). I made that last bit up. The groom must pay a dowry to the bride’s family usually involving farmyard animals. Lose a daughter, gain a cow.

We arrived at our final destination of the 5 Stans adventure in the late afternoon. The “Rich Hotel” was advertised as 4 star. Nowhere in the world, other than Kyrgyzstan, would have classified it so. The outdoor pool, the only one of our trip, had one sorry looking sun lounger, and the pool didn’t look like it had been cleaned in a long time. There was no bedside light, and no power point near the bed. Ironic that I was in Room 101.

I went walking for some supplies and along my travels I saw a dentist’s office with a shop window. It was like a barber shop. You could actually see the guy getting worked on.

Tuesday was the last full day of the tour. I decided to skip the city tour with a local guide – you know we. Instead I did the same itinerary only two hours earlier at 7am. Once again I was in my element trotting round a new city at my own pace without having to pay attention to a local guide. I saw some relatively impressive landmarks including Ala too Square, a statue of Lenin, another of Engels and Marx. A highly enjoyable three hours.

Zebra crossings are curious in Kyrgyzstan. Cars will simply weave around you as you dice with death. Possibly the worst driving habits of all five stans. A random observation was that I didn’t see sun cream/ spray/ lotion, anywhere in all five stans.

Our final dinner together was chosen by Steve in honour of Ann’s 44th birthday. He chose well – the top floor of the Sheraton Hotel. Great farewell dinner where Kerri performed a poem about the trip.

I was due to stay awake and head to the airport at midnight for a flight at a ridiculous time. I changed my plan. Azerbaijan will have to wait. I was road weary and needed some down time.

The following morning, (at a reasonable time), the taxi to the airport had two moments of astonishment. First was a man sweeping the motorway with a broom. No cones keeping him safe. Just faith in the driving abilities of the locals to avoid him. Second was the driver. He was in the fast lane beeping anyone impeding his progress. Then he beeped a police car going too slow. Couldn’t do that in England! I arrived at Manas Airport with a rather acceptable afternoon flight to Abu Dhabi. Three x-ray machines later I headed to the lounge. Apparently I’d paid for it with Wizz Air. 15 quid. Well, the only lounge in the airport didn’t recognise Wizz Air. I wondered what I’d actually paid for. They wanted $45 to use it. I paid and headed to the wine serving place. Then he was going to charge me for the wine. “It’s not free”, I spluttered. It was not. $45 was to sit in nice comfy chairs, by all accounts.

I got my $45 refunded and went in search of vino. None of the numerous bars sold wine. My only option was duty free. I found one bottle of screw top white wine for 19 euros. Bargain. They disguised it in a string vest and off I went in search of a paper coffee cup. I spend the next hour sitting in a cafe “drinking coffee, you understand”, undetected.

The flight was half empty and I had the whole back row to myself. I was heading to Abu Dhabi for a rest.

Here’s a little summary of the stans.

Most populated is Uzbekistan with 37 million. The smallest population is Turkmenistan with 6 million. In total the five countries have around 83 million people. The biggest is Kazakhstan which is twice the size of the other four put together. Uzbekistan gets around 8 million tourists a year. Turkmenistan gets a mere 10,000. All of them are predominantly Muslim. Tajikistan is the poorest with a per capita GDP of only $1,432 versus 15,100 in Kazakhstan. My favourite was Uzbekistan.

The group I travelled with were excellent. We bonded immediately and there wasn’t a cross word in 24 days. Paul from Los Angeles was our elder statesman at 75. He had many a great story. Further up the California coast were Steve and Ann from Oakland. A super couple. Next we had Bonnie from North Carolina who was our most travelled – by the end she’d been to 122 countries. Young John, 34, was the only other person from the UK. During the trip he reached 100 countries. Delightful chap. Australia had 4 representatives. Yorkshire Paul lived in Perth with his wife Irish Catherine. Both had been in Oz for decades. Still had their original accents though. Fabulous pair. Last but not least were lifelong friends Kerri and Jan from Queensland. They laughed for the whole trip.