We enjoyed our three day jaunt across Kazakhstan. The wide open spaces of the remote southeastern corner, the small towns with friendly folk. Less so the million mosquitos that gathered around us each evening and the three seasons in 24 hours - from hot sunshine on the steppe to cold rain on the climb up to Kegen and the Karkara valley and then the sleet that fell as we passed through the recently reopened Karkara valley border crossing between Kazakhstan and its mountainous southern neighbour - Kyrgyzstan. Our parting from Kazakhstan was a warm one from the friendly Kazakh customs officers who spiked our hot cups of coffee with shots of vodka. Kazakhstan is larger than western Europe and we'd only seen a snippet of the vast country that stretches all the way to the oil rich Caspian Sea. Like the other 'stans in the region - the name of the country tries to evoke a mono-ethnic idyll that belies the truth of its multiethnic population. While Kazakh and Russian groups dominate, smaller minorities also have a significant presence including Uighur, Kyrgyz, and Uzbek. Other groups such as the Poles, Germans, Tatars and Ukrainians who were often forcibly settled in the region during the early years of the Soviet Union have also made significant contributions to the country, although many of these groups have migrated west again since 1991 and the end of the USSR.
Our second country in central Asia and another one of the former fifteen Soviet Republics was Kyrgyzstan. Shortly before leaving China we were able to confirm that the Karkara valley border crossing was reopen again for business having been closed after the political turmoil in Kyrgyzstan in 2010. Renowned as one of the most picturesque border crossings in central Asia, Karkara valley is home to a summer population of cowboys and yurts bringing their livestock up to graze on the knee-deep grass alongside black cranes breaking their journey from Siberia to South Africa and back. As the rain turned to sleet and a vain attempt to find some dry ground in a soggy landscape, we turned towards a ramshackle village to pitch our tent up. The village was mostly young men who were here to herd for the summer months. A couple were drunk but most stood at a discreet distance and watched inquisitively as the tent went up. A man came up and insisted on making us tea and storing our bikes in his shed. We'd perish with the cold he said. We would have to sleep inside. The dogs will bark all night at us he told us. Although very cold, we knew our gear was up to the task however and we splashed back across the wet grass to our cold abode. Eventually the enormous dogs also relaxed and their barking ceased. We woke up to snow covered hillsides and spent the day riding our way down to Tup and Issy Kul lake on a road that improved from gravel to hard dirt to tarmac.
In Tup we found lodgings in the dining room of a lady running a cafe. Evening tea was served in fine china under chandeliers and a long table. A bookcase full of dusty Russian works loomed over us. Outside in the garden, apple and apricot tree branches were getting heavier with their fruit by the day. For the next two days we rode west along the northern shore of lake Issy Kul. The second largest high-altitude lake after Lake Titicaca. Formerly a testing ground for Soviet naval weapons, the 700 metre deep lake now tries to prosper from gentler means, especially tourism. Speedo-clad Kazaks and Russians flock to the lake during the summer months. Rising up from the southern shore, the snow-topped Tian Shan stretches along the Chinese-Kyrgyz border. High in the mountains is also the site of Kumtor gold mine, a large Canadian-managed operation that was recently in the press due to protests calling for its nationalisation.
Descending from the lake to the lowlands at Kemin we rolled towards Bishkek and shortly before Tokmok a bullet sized metal pin did some damage to my rear tyre as darkness rolled in. Unable to find a quiet spot to camp we asked at a roadside shop if we could camp in the garden. It was no problem of course. In a land where the semi-nomadic traditions of its highland population are still alive and well, asking for a place to camp is rarely met with any source of concern, even amongst the settled inhabitants. More perplexing for our hosts is our lack of interest in drinking vodka after a long day in the saddle.
Village shops are awash in familiar goods - dairy products and bread - in a diet that although very heavily meat based, is still much more familiar to us than that of east Asia. The other half of the shop is dedicated to the several dozen varieties of vodka that creak the shelves. The macho culture is also a new phenonomen. Fast, reckless driving and prolific drinking along with a swagger that one would almost never see in eastern Asia is disconcerting.
With its relaxed visa regulations, Kyrgyzstan and its capital, Bishkek, was going to be a stopover on our route west. Stocking up on visas for the countries ahead, we picked up our Tajik, Uzbek and Iranian visas last week. Ellie battled the flu for a few days and my mother made the trip out from Ireland for ten days and we spent a few days exploring the city and then up to the mountains at Kochkor and Song Kol lake where yurts were erected on the summer pastures. A successful community-based tourism association offers homestays in the region and we spent a memorable night with a family by the 3070 metre high lake.
We're back on the road in the next day or two, back to the mountains, bound for southern Kyrgyzstan and the Ferghana valley before crossing into Tajikistan to ride the Pamir highway around to Dushanbe.
Real men drink beer for breakfast
Baby camel and its mother by the roadside
At last we get to use our headnets...
Quiet reading time in the drainage tunnel
Approaching the Kazakhstan-Kyrgyzstan border post in the Karkara valley
First night in Kyrgyzstan - snow, dogs and village camping
Approaching Issy Kul lake, near Tup
Descending to the lowlands and Bishkek
Camping in this family's garden
On the train
Driving up to Song Kol
More Lada promotional footage...
Kids at Song Kol
Home for the night
View The Slow Way Home - Map 2 in a larger map
Pedalled: 72,985 km
Please note that as part of this trip I am fundraising for the Dublin-based Peter McVerry Trust who work primarily with supporting homeless youth and this year they mark their 30th anniversary. If you would like to make a donation, you can do so via my fundraising page on the mycharity.ie website (click here). Thank you.