Kyrgyzstan (For travel and country facts: Kyrgyzstan)
MURRAY'S DIARY for the complete story.
The OVIR is an heritage of
the Soviet period where tourists need to register where they are staying
overnight. The Central Asian countries have now their own rules about using he
OVIR.. In Uzbekistan one must register at each city but especially when cycling
it is a not done job to find OVIRS everywhere, so you just don’t. Kyrgyzstan
has just released 28 countries from this obligation, but the Netherlands is not
on this list. With some help we find the OVIR office in Osh. The officer is
almost sure that we are on this list, but we have checked in through several
channels. What happened here… almost all EU countries are released but not the
Netherlands?!? The officer shows us the list. Next time, take a look under the
‘K’ of Kingdom of the Netherlands (in Cyrillic of course).
03/08/2003. Today we leave
for the Kyrgyz mountains! We have calculated to arrive in Naryn in about 4-5
days coming from Osh. Halfway the first day we meet George and Jan, two other
cyclists from the Chech republic, and we continue as a group. Although they have
left from Osh as well, we have done an extra 22km today. The crossings are not
marked at all in Kyrgyzstan, and they speak Russian… It’s just not fair.
They tell us that almost all roads are not tarred in Kyrgyzstan (that in
contradiction to Uzbekistan). We start to wonder what we are doing here, imagine
a dozen cols of around 3000-4000meters.
The next day it’s raining,
then it stops and then it starts raining again (continuing through the day). If
this is our first day to actually cycle in the mountains and nothing is tarred
it’s not a good start. We keep on going. The crossing where we go east and the
two Chech go north is soon to be there, or not? According to the map it should
have been after 20km, but none of us saw another road. We are already close to
Jalabad, and describe to move on (it’s raining anyway). Four pair of eyes are
blind or someone has moved the crossing. We say goodbye to our friends who are
continuing to Bishkek (over asphalt instead of gravel). Hopefully it’s sunny
tomorrow.
Attempt number two, today,
we are ready. If Raymond’s pedal axle wasn’t making this ‘tik’-sound. It
gets worse and worse. We combine tea with a maintenance check. Raymond can’t
find anything wrong, missing or not in place and we return to Jalabad, after
40km, to find more tools or even replace the pedal axle.
Exactly at the moment we are (again) checking in at the Mol-Mol hotel, a car stops and Brieke and Jan start talking in Dutch to Raymond. They saw the very Dutch Agu-panniers.
" The hero "
And invite us
to stay at their house. We explain why we are in the city for the second time.
But what is happening here!?! Both Brieke and Jan are cyclists as well! We try
to calculate the scientific chance of meeting other Dutch people and at the
perfect timing, AND who like cycling AND have the right tools to help us out,
AND detailed maps of our route. We come with a change of 1 in a very large
number. The detailed maps (1:200.000) come in very useful, imagine we are
cycling at a map scaled as if it were Europe in one map (1:1.750.000).
06/08/2003, we will never
know about the ‘tik’-sound but the fact is that it is gone after Raymond and
Jan have pulled and pushed the pedal axle several times. Maybe it is in place
now? I try to make a usefull day by picking apples and making juice.
Attempt number three, we are
even more ready for the mountains. Jan has decided only yesterday that he wants
to join us until lake Son-Kol, he will turn west to Bishkek and home. The two
years he’s been living in Jalabad he has always wanted to cycle this piece,
but never found the company wanting the same. The first 40km are known, after
this the asphalt changes to gravel and we start ascending. The unpaved road
takes a lot more energy than we thought. When it gets stony the back wheel
either spins the stone away of the whole bicycle slips to the left or right side.
We plan to pitch the tents after 70km at 1600m, some 10km before the first big
challenge of 3000m.
Again we are ready to go,
let’s hit the mountain. ‘I don’t feel so well’ Raymond says. He ends up
laying flat on his belly over the edge of the slope giving yesterdays dinner
back to nature, or at least it doesn’t look like he’s studying insects and
Mekka is in the other direction. Jan continuos alone and Raymond promises to
meet in a couple of hours at the summit. Raymond spends the rest of the day
laying flat on his back under a tree getting rid of more food and a fever.
Luckily we placed our tent near two yurts where we can buy, more than healthy,
brown bread. The yurts (‘yurta’s’ in Kyrgyz) are big round tents, that are
placed on jailo’s (pastures) only in the summer by nomads. The wooden frame
keeps the white felt in place and on the ground are thick felt carpets and
blankets. Carpets serve also as wall decorations at local homes, although not so
much in the yurts. The wooden frame is also used to hang various tools, kitchen
stuff and toys for the children. I am offered a meal twice and enjoy it. Jan
told us what you can mostly buy at these yurts like: smetana (cream), ayran
(yoghurt), lipjoska (bread), qumus (fermented horse milk) and sometimes honey.
09/08/2003, We have given up
hope to ever reach the summit of our first challenge. Raymond needs another day
to get the energy back and we prepare our bicycles to get loaded on a truck,
taking us over the mountain to Kazarman. We place our stuff along side the road
and wait for a truck. We wait, and we wait even longer. Something is telling us
that this must be a signal that we must do it ourselves (it can also be due to
it’s Saturday).
10/08/2003 Okay, okay, here we go, attempt number five,
The first hour the road follows the river, going
slightly up and down. Then the road start climbing and I wonder if this is the
start of our 3000m pass (coming from 1650m). It is indeed, the first u-turn
appears. We ascent fast but is a long way and the road is now and then quite
steep (due to repairs on the road after it was washed away). What a day,
spectacular views when we look at back and somehow the ‘I am good’-feeling
comes up when we are almost there. A beer at the top would be a very welcome
present even tea would do. One more u-turn, we breath heavily (it’s only 45C
in the sun and no wind). The smell of fresh baked French fries reaches us, but
all we find is a plate of dirty snow. We take a picture, touch the snow, dress
up heavily since there is a cold wind up here, and start our descent over the
4wd track.
11-13/08/2003.
The next three days we take to cycle from Kazarman to Baetov. We have been told by Jan, two Swiss cyclists and the people we have stayed with this night that the northern (direct) route to Naryn is too heavy for cycling and there are bandits active at night. Better do an extra 80km extra southwards. The road is now and than awful with loads of small stones that work as a constant brake and irritation. The views are on the other hand spectacular make you take breaks just to stare at the Grand-canyon shaped mountains.
Once over the top of the 2700m pass, the road
stays at
altitudes of around 1800m for the next 150km. The last part is somewhat
different. We are cycling in a very large valley of a couple of kilometres wide
with mountains on either side, in the middle of the valley there is a big crack
in the ground of approximately 200m, stretching to the horizon where the
mountains meet. We don’t see anybody, no car passes us and the wind starts
blowing from behind like it’s telling us to hurry away from here and blows
lot’s of dust in the air. The fear of the threatening dark thunder clouds just
behind us is stimulating to cycle even faster. In a small village we pass, a
young boy throws a branch at us and we really have a bad feeling. After 30km
cycling through this spooky valley we reach a small village where we pitch our
tent in someone’s garden. Finally only one drop of rain reaches our tent.
15/08/2003 A lot of
information has been given us to change our plans. Lake Son-Kol is now on our
route and apparently some of our planned road are either non-existent or only
made for horses. There are some roads that are connected on our map, but in the
real world we would have looked like fools that we missed the dead-end signs or
broken bridges. Anyway, talking with other cyclists and locals and studying
detailed maps have changed our route slightly. We will go via lake Son-Kol
towards lake Yssyk-Kol. Not through the mountains south of Yssyk-Kol unless we
want to exchange the bicycles for horses and unless we would create new
connections in the network of dead-end roads.
Off we go to the lake that is situated at 3000m and is surrounded by slightly higher peaks. The reputation is that there can be 4 seasons in a day here and we must be prepared for all of them. A lot of people form villages around the lake sped three summer months in yurts aside the lake. Starting at Baetov the road is paved for our first 40km and it feels like heaven with the exception of the fact that tar is so silent that all you hear is what’s not in place on your bicycle. Okay, let’s oil the chains and fasten the big nut of the steer. There are also some items that vibrate along with the Kyrgyz gravel tracks. After heaven we turn left to the lake expecting to ascent to 1800m. The gravel changes from a tennis court quality into Camel trophy stones that are not stuck in the road but waiting for you to get your bicycle slipping. Why not call the sport ‘mountain biking with luggage’. It’s the road condition, the gradient of the road, the killing hot sun and the long nerves in the road that wear us out. It can’t be more than 10km now. A loud ‘Oh no’ from the deepest of my hart makes Raymond stop and look at me. !’
"Look!!!!!"
Within the last minute
a wall appeared in front of us
and shows us at least ten U-turns
straight above each other, and Raymond starts laughing. It’s 16:30, the
computer shows 70km for today and we are only at 2300m… With an ‘It’s okay
for today’-feeling we pitch our tent just at the start of the wall between two
yurts.
Meeting the Kyrgyz
Lake Son-Kol is said to be
the best place to meet Kyrgyz people in their yurts. Indeed, for those not
traveling by themselves. The local initiative named CBT (community-based tourism)
and Sheppard’s life provides the chance to sleep in a yurt and have a
conversation around dinner with 
a Kyrgyz family. In return you pay around 10 USD
directly to the family. We prefer our own Palatka (tent) and only go where the
rest don’t, but fun to see that one of the CBT-connected yurts has a antenna
that reached straight to the satellites for making exceptional touristy phone
calls home. We have thought of building our own internet connection: me in top
of a tree, left arm raised straight above my head and Raymond typing on my toes.
The day is almost gone and we are awaiting the sunset, expecting it to be beautiful. Children are playing around us and ride a horse or a donkey.
We are asked to milk a cow and ................. ride a donkey, (who is who?) both leading to a big laugh. Why can’t we stupid Dutch milk a cow?! This family has four yurts and prefers more luxury than other families we have seen. We have met some of the family on top of the pass and they immediately invited us to come to their yurts. One of the younger women speaks German and on our way to their yurts, we collect all questions we are now able of asking. The family is from Naryn and will go back at the end of august.
Only fishermen will
stay at the lake during the winter. The family has registered for a hundred
years and will register again for another period of hundred years. Their place
is one hectare. When we arrive, we are invited in the yurt that is used as
living room. A long table low to the ground is made up with all sorts of food.
We spot the jam and because we have tasted this home-made jam several times
before, we grab hungry for it, delicious. It seems it never minds what you take
and how much, as long as you take something. Therefore, we empty the cup of jam.
The Yurt is one of the most beautiful we have seen so far, the framework is painted red and there are so many of the felt cloths pinned to the framework that we cant possible see them all. Everything is in good shape and colorful. The table is always made up for those who pass by, mostly family. Never forget to take off your shoes, even though I am always quite embarrassed for the smell of the kilometers these shoes have done for the day. We are pointed to a place on the ground and are provided with felt pillows and rugs. The tea is served in half full cups only and whenever you finish the cup, you will be offered another half as soon as someone notices you’ve finished the first. There’s always one woman of the family that seems to have the job of serving tea, and by providing only half’s she can be even more generous to guests. We have learned to take over the cup of tea because they will never put it down on the table for you. As well we have learned that everything you finish will be replaced by another, including the things you don’t like to drink or eat. Bread is never placed upside down and is always torn in pieces and placed next to our plate.
After a very welcome lunch we play and talk for a while with the children and pitch our tent somewhere aside of the yurts, afraid to bather them too much. We know that this moment of sunset will only last for a few minutes and Raymond is ready to capture it on film. What a beauty, we are at 3000 meters above sea level .......
and are witness of a boy
on a donkey and four yurts against a red-yellow-blue sky and mountain peaks
at the back. The second moment is as we hoped for as well, a sharp and bright
view of the stars, the Milky Way and many recognizable groups of stars. Then the
moon comes in and the stars make place for a Harry Potter scene that is somewhat
spooky. As we are getting the cramps because of looking upward, someone asks us
if we want to join the Qumus. At first we think it is time to eat the local
butter-like cream but apparently the same word pronounced differently is for a
guitar-like instrument with three strings. It is the older man who is playing
and the women surrounding are singing, the men making vodka-noises only, and
Raymond…?
Lake Yssyk-Kol
Just coming out of the mountainous area, we find this lake very touristy and not so beautiful if the Silk Road and the mountains are the reason for crossing Kyrgyzstan. We cycle past many used-to-be-hotels that look like they were once very luxurious. The fall of the Soviet Union has not done well for everyone I believe and we cycle on the south side......
of the Yssyk-Kol lake, close to mountain ranges going for the 5000 meters.
These mountains were on our route but because plans have changed, we can only
look at them from a distance. Good thing it is constantly raining up there.
The goal of this trip
Silk production along the silkroad.
Karakol
Reaching
the city of Karakol feels like coming back to the world we know and certainly
means three days of rest. First things first and we cheers some beers away with
other travelers. A group of 6 is about to leave for a 5 day hiking tour in the
Tien Sian mountains, leaving us behind for some housekeeping and maintenance:
finding Diesel to clean the bicycles, finding the enormous big sized screwdriver
to open the stove for cleaning, bazaar shopping and we have found some cheese
for lunch. The owner of the guesthouse, Valentin, helps with finding an address
to repair Raymonds panniers. Coming down from the hot springs over a gravel road,
the stitches of the straps that prevent the front panniers from jumping broke.
The pannier blocks the front wheel as it fell off and Raymond hits the gravel.
"I'm okay" he says, "but can you get the bike of my legs?".
It results in a lot of luckily minor injuries that we clean with soap and the
last drops of water we have left. Some of the other bags have similar broken
stitches and the Karakol shoemaker will fix them all tomorrow.
We
also find more time to read through "The discovery of heaven" by Harry
Mulish (901 pages), unfortunately not yet published in paperback version. After
I have finished "The piano maker" and Raymond has finished "The
diceman", we have cut the book in halves to be able to read parallel.
Raymond has just ordered "The great game" by Peter Hopkirk and another
Ludlum via the internet and it will be send to the post office in China via post
restante
Once
a week on Sunday morning, Karakols animal market is the place where the Kyrgyz
buy and sell... as the name suggests... horses, cows and sheep. While
we are there we watch how two just bought sheep fits ‘easy’ in the back of a
Lada.
Somewhere
hidden in a corner of the city where we pass by, a pool-billiard table promises
us a nice evening. With Karsten from Germany we try to finish one game in one
hour, but that is quite hard. The table has two speed reducing nerves, each ball
has at least 20 small holes and the stick weights at least 3 kilos. The table
itself is unstable with a slight effect to the left. Another two vodka drunks
try to explain the local technique. Germany wins, this time.
Karakol
Yak tours guesthouse isn’t at all like the other former soviet hotels. The
hotels we have visited so far all had a wooden reception desk with glass above
the counter, like you’re in a post office. If the hair (it’s the only thing
you can see since they sit on a chair) hesitates to book you in it’s not about
the fact that most people don’t read another alphabet than Cyrillic.
Everything is wood and concrete, you are lucky if you have a warm shower and
some descent springs in your mattress.
Yak
tours hotel is more like home. In fact it is a house, which looks a bit colonial
with a wooden front like a Swiss chalet. Dinner is in the basement and the
second floor is divided into several sleeping places. It looks a bit like you
have a lot of people sleeping at your house when you had a party, a sleeping
couch next to the fireplace, two beds next to the dining table etc.
The
painted flowers on the wallpaper makes it complete. Valentin the owner helped
with the Lonely planet video about Central Asia and was one of the persons
behind eating the sheep’s eye.
His
anecdote about ‘Why the Dutch love mountains’. Once upon a time, ages ago
when earth was still one big land. The people on earth created one big chaos.
They were fighting over small pieces of land, even killing each other for that
reason. Finally one wise man asked God ‘God help us please’ and also God saw
no simple solution and divided the land into countries. He gave the French the
grape yards, the boot to the Italians, the low lands to the Swiss and the
mountains to the Dutch. And so be it. Years past by and people were satisfied
and peaceful. However, the Dutch
and the Swiss weren’t so happy. Together they turned to God and explained
‘God help us please, we can no longer use our clogs now that you have given us
the mountains’. The Swiss continued: ‘Help us please, we can no longer ski
now you have given us the mud of the low lands.’ And God exchanged the
countries. This is why the Dutch love the mountains it has been in their blood
since the very beginning.
Kazakhstan
border formalities
28/08/2003.
This morning a miracle appeared when we opened the tent. After two days of rain
the sky had changed into perfect blue (‘Morning has broken, like the first
morning’ by Cat Stevens). We could see the snow on 5000m summit of one of the
mountains nearby very clearly. Our only aim for today is to cross the border and
cycle into Kazakhstan, heading for China. After we woke up the custom officers
at the Kyrgyzstan border we are heading for the Kazakh border. The customs
officer doesn’t speak English and walks away to find a senior officer. The
senior officer doesn’t speak English either, but starts talking in Russian
anyway. Then he puts our passports on the table and start drawing a line, which
looks like the border crossing between Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan, and lake
Yssyk-Kol. The next movement we will never forget. He draws circles around the
lake, puts his hands behind his head like he is laying in the sun and writes
down 10th of September next to the border line. The decision is made,
his suggestion is to cycle some rounds around the lake and enjoy Kyrgyzstan
until our visa is valid within 13 days. The problem is probably that we will
leave the country already before our visa is even valid, which could give them
problems by the order border posts. Disappointed we cycle back to Kyrgyzstan (they
don’t give entry and exit stamps on their visa) and wave to the Kyrgyzstan
officers.
Independence
day in Bishkek
We
cycle in two days from the Kazakhstan border back towards Tup, the city closest
to the border and next to the Yssyk-Kol lake. From here we take the bus to
Bishkek, the capital, which will take 8 hours. Although not really planned this
must be worth a visit, because on the 1st of September it is
Independence day in Kyrgyzstan.
01/09/2003.
Today we start with watching a military parade. We find a nice place where we
can oversee everything, still one hour to go, just in front of the parade cars.
Apparently the whole parade will start where we are and move to the Ala-Too
square (previous Lenin square). This means a total parade length of 200m, 100 m
to get speed and another 100m for the performance. Just 15 minutes before the
start we are aloud to got to the square right in front of the waving government
officials. Something like you saw on television in the Soviet era and still from
North Korea, waving towards the parade.
In
front of us 6 blocks of 20 rows of 20 military men. When the highest in rank
passes a block of military, they all scream ‘yeah’. The general (?) still
stiff standing in his car and saluting the militaries then moves to the next
block. The blocks can also do a wave with ‘yeah’ from left to right and from
right to left.
After
this there is a parade of all the services funded by the government (i.e.
hospital personnel, sport associations, the electricity company and the police).
While we ask ourselves if the police is funded by the government or by the
people. When you are pulled over by a police officer (very big chance this
happens, sometimes three in one street) it’s an ‘either/ or’ story. Or you
pay immediately 10 sums ($0.25) or they will find a reason to fine you for more.
We just paid our taxi driver the 10 sums he had to pay to the police officer.
Next activity on Independence Day: The finals of the ‘sheep-throwing’ or Buzkashi (Russian) between Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan, rugby while horseback riding while
the ball is a beheaded goat or sheep. On either side of the field there are two baskets on the ground (1 meter high and 2 meter in diameter) made of clay and decorated with lorry-tires. National teams of 6 persons try to get possession of the sheep. Apparently it is not allowed to grab the other players, but
if you
grab the sheep (white spot in the middle left pic.)at one leg you can rugby around
as much as possible. The
admittance for the game is by invitation only. How did we get in? Yesterday we
walked into, what we thought was, the tourist information office. ‘No English’
we hear the desk clerk say, somehow strange for a tourist information office we
think. She leaves the offices and gets someone else to talk to us. We ask ‘can
you tell us what the activities are on independence day?’. He provides us an
overview and we notice the finals of Buzkashi and he immediately says
‘that’s by invitation only’. We both look sad, but continue reading. We
have seen the semi-finals on TV at some locals on our way from the Kazakh
border. It’s also quite hard to get tickets for the finals of European soccer.
‘Do you want to go?’ the man asks. ‘Yes of course’ we answer and he
pulls out two tickets from his suit pocket and hands them to us. This isn’t
the tourist information office, but the ministry of Tourism, sport and youth
policy and he is the ‘assistant to the Chairman’. Independence day ends with
an open-air discotheque on Ala-Too Square and fire works (where?).
We
have decided to fly to Urumqi (Xinjiang province, China) and skip the couple of
days through Kazakhstan. Our flight leaves the 5th of September ,
because we loose otherwise two weeks by touring through Kyrgyzstan (we are here
already for three weeks). We rather spend some additional time in southern China
and Thailand. Our plan is to cycle from Urumqi through the desert to Turpan and
back to Urumqi through the mountains (600km) over a pass at 4500m. When we
arrive at the airport and check in we are stopped at the check-in desk. Of
course we are charged for the overweight of (in this case) 10kg. Luckily, our
bicycles where a bit too big for the weighing scale and were therefore 5kg less
heavy. The person of the travel agency were we booked the flight was
accompanying us and arranged that the overweight was booked on a group.