Day 105. Karakol

Karakol is Kyrgyzstan's 4th largest city after Bishkek, Osh and Jalal-Abad. It is a centre for outside sports including trekking and skiing. The town itself is not so remarkable, typical stoic Soviet architecture and crumbling concrete statues of the past litter parks. I put my tent on the washing line at the hostel to dry out and go out to explore. There is a central square that has similar scenes that I have witnessed through out central Asia. Families congregate, music plays. Kids whizz around on rented bicycles and electric powered cars whilst a statue of Lenin looks on. At the War Memorial newly weds have their photos taken, as I witnessed elsewhere in the former Soviet Union. I finish the day stuffing a Shashlik down my neck.


WWII Cemetery.

Day 104. As you were Scotland.

I wake a little chilly. Blearily I leave my tent and look around. The snow line on the mountains is now much lower. No snow where I am as it is low but it is still chilly. I pack a damp tent and get back onto the road. At the first village I find I stop at a shop and get some food. The sun is out and I begin to warm up. I get to Karakol and find the hostel that I plan to meet some of the guys that I met in Bishkek. Being back in the land of the living I log on to the interweb and have a look at the news. Scotland did not vote yes. It voted no. I feel a little disappointing. After spending two days on the bike thinking and imagining what an independent Scotland might mean within a click of the fingers (or online click) I realise it is back to normal in the UK, nothing to see here and move along now.


The road to Karakol.

Day 103. Lake Issyk Kul.

Lake Issyk Kul is a popular tourist resort catering principally for Kyrgyz and Kazakh holiday makers. It even has a small airport at Tamchy that has direct flights from Bishkek and Almaty. However I am there during September and the weather is already on the turn and the holiday season has finished. I ride around some of the lakeside resort towns full of closed bars, guesthouses, ice cream stalls and restaurants and hum "Every day is like Sunday" by Morrissey to myself. This place looks very lively during peak season and just 4 weeks earlier I would have witnessed a very different scene.

I leave the lake side quiet and press on down the highway. Unfortunately the weather turns, and becomes wet, very wet. I am soon drenched and by now far from available accommodation. I find a suitable spot off the road hidden by foliage and put my tent up. Dry and warm I feel better and sleep.

Friendly faces!

The lake side town, that has already closed down.

Day 102. Scotland is independent!

My ride from Kemin to Balykchy takes me over and through the Boom Gorge. Whilst traveling through the gorge by Marshrutka a few days earlier I felt a strong tail wind a felt excited by the ride. Now that I was on the bike the wind had changed and was now a strong head wind. The ride became exhausting. The gorge is beautiful, steep arid peaks line the roadside. I am not feeling beautiful, I am exhausted. By the time I get through the gorge I have had enough. I make Balykchy and find a homestay again. This time however I have the whole house to myself! I am rather delighted at this as I do not feel like being social, I am more interested in eating and sleeping.


Today is the day of the Scottish independence vote. I have a TV that has a Russian news channel. The headline is да, Шотландия (yes, Scotland) and numbers scroll underneath saying 51% 49%. Footage is of a very happy "Yes" camp and glum looking "No" camp. I think that Scotland is independent. How exciting, I wonder what this means...?


Roadside feeding along the Boom Gorge.

Kyrgyz flag painted on the hillside along the Boom Gorge.

Day 101

I finally manage to leave Bishkek! My ride takes me back down the road towards Cholpon Ata as I plan to ride around Issyk Kul, although this time as I am on my bike the journey takes a little longer. I get as far as a rather small but busy town of Kemin at about sunset and pull up outside a building that has hotel (or гостиница) written large along its roof. Unfortunately for me the building is no longer a hotel but now a block of flats. I get chatting to a group of enthusiastic lads outside who mistake my tent bag for a punch bag but help me anyway. A few phone calls are made and I am put in touch with a family who will let me stay for a small price. I am led to a rather nice house and given the living room to sleep in. For tea I am given vodka and bread and end up sleeping well.


My hosts.

Day 100

Oops. Hangover. Plans to leave did not quite happen. Tomorrow is another day.

Day 99, back to Bishkek

A morning Marshrutka took us all back to Bishkek for a lazy afternoon. For the evening I was invited to a meal at a friends flat to sample a local delicacy, 5 Fingers (or Beshbarmak) and vodka. 5 fingers gets its name as it is traditionally eaten with the fingers. It is made from meat with a potato and noodle base. The meat I ate here was horse. This was the first time I had eaten horse and it was very nice, very tender a quite delicate. The vodka however was not so tender and delicate and we all ended up rather drunk.