Kyrgyzstan part 2....the saga continues

6.15 - 6.25

I awoke from the random field where the truck had dropped us off only a few hours before, my tarp was neatly folded and Peter was nowhere in sight. I mounted the bicycle, sleep deprived and a little disoriented from the truck ride the night before, and cycled towards Bishkek. I wanted to apply for my Tajikistan visa today as it was said to take a week to process. Whenever I visit an embassy I try not to look and smell like a stinky cyclist that just spent the night in a field. So when I arrived in Bishkek, I threw some water on my face, patted down my hair and changed into my 'nice' clothes (slacks I bought in China for $2.25 and short sleeve plaid dress shirt from Thailand). The Lonely Planet describes the Tajik embassy as being 'lost in suburbia' and that turned out to be right on the money. After nearly 4 hours of cycling through endless neighborhoods and asking taxi drivers who all replied with shrugged shoulders, I threw in the towel and bought an ice cream. Sitting on the sidewalk, sweating profusely all over my 'nice' clothes (looking more like a speed junkey than a classy gent) eating my ice cream, full of frustration, I heard 'Hey!'. It was Peter who was returning from the Tajik embassy, he pointed to a side road just down from my sidewalk hangout. Located at the end of a residential cul-de-sac was the infamous Tajik embassy. I rang the bell just in time as the consulate was packing her bags, she kindly accepted my visa application and I left the embassy with a smile on my face.

So I had 4 days to kill before my visa would be ready. Bishkek is a semi-modern city, surrounded by large mountains and nomadic farmers, it's quite interesting to see trolley cars intermixed with donkeys, both of which are carrying people from A to B. I'm not exactly a city person and I was eager to explore the surrounding mountains of Bishkek, so I took a side trip to Ala-Archa Canyon just south of Bishkek. I cycled only about 50 kilometers from the city but gained nearly 1500 meters of elevation....it was steep. So I landed at a beautiful campsite at the start of the canyon.

Ala-Archa Canyon near Bishkek

I spent the next day hiking through Ala-Archa canyon all the way back to a winter ski hut. I then returned back to my campsite, mounted the Surly and enjoyed loosing all of those 1500 meters of elevation from the previous day. It was about half way through the hike that I remembered that the Kyrgyz family from Bishkek that had passed me on the road and invited me to be a guest in their home were going to return to Bishkek today. So when I arrived in Bishkek I rang Merim, little did I know at the time but this was to be the start of a wonderful friendship with some of the kindest Kyrgyz people in the world, the Sultanovas.

They met me at a Gamburger restaurant (there is no 'H' sound in Russian) and I followed them in their car, me on my bike, to their house. Once again the red carpet was rolled out and they showed me the utmost kindness and hospitality, they treated me like family and we instantly bonded. The family consisted of a spunky english speaking mother, a devoted and successful business-man and father, 3 daughters about my age and 1 younger son. They all spoke extremely good english, the oldest daughter, Ilona, lived in Switzerland and was fluent in both french and english. Unlike most Kyrgyz families I had encountered up to this point, they were extremely relaxed in religion and traditions, i.e. the women were allowed to dress freely and without head scarves, they could also eat and talk with me at diner....this was a huge change from the male dominated Kyrgyzstan that I'd experienced thus far. We enjoyed wonderful conversations, probably the best I've engaged in since Kashgar, we ate huge meals, told jokes, drank Russian vodka, laughed, had dance parties, traded dance moves, shared stories from the road, they showed me around Bishkek, searched for things in the bazaar, never allowing me to spend a penny. I ended up staying 5 days at their house, somewhat waiting for my visa, somewhat feeling the most comfortable I've felt on this trip.

The Sultanovas (aka my Bishkek harem)

When the time finally came to pick up my visa and head down the road, I didn't really want to leave these wonderful people and they were begging me to stay....so I spent another 2 days with them. When my time had finally expired, I had to pry myself away from the smiles and laughs. I said goodbye to my amazing hosts and thanked them for all of their kindness and hit the road, munching on the kilo of cherries that they offered me for the road.

Prying myself away from the kindness

So I cycled from Bishkek (the capital) to Lake Issyk Kul, the tenth largest lake in the world and the second largest alpine lake in the world. Issyk Kul used to be a huge destination for Russian vacationers but has declined since the end of the Soviet Union. So I reached the west end of the lake, found a locals beach, procured a plate of beefsteak then stripped down to my swimmies and went swimming (aka bathing in the cycling world). The lake was beautiful, surrounded by mountains to the north and south...I ended up pitching my tent right on the beach and fell asleep to the sound of water rolling back and forth along the shore.

Lake Issyk-Kul

The next morning I said goodbye to my beach utopia and began cycling south towards another alpine lake, Song Kol. Some days of cycling passed, a few more beefsteaks consumed, a few more pristine campsites enjoyed, then I began the rough ascent from Sary Bulak to Song Kol. The road was a torturous 65 kilometers of steep sandy crap. I had to push my bike through some sections, probably the toughest road I'd encountered up to this point, I even cycled through a huge section of snow just before reaching the pass into Song Kol (this was June 23rd). I had climbed nearly 700 meters of elevation on crap roads, I topped the pass and beautiful Song Kol came into view.

I cycled towards the lake when tons of kids came running to the road. I stopped and was persuaded to pitch my tent near a families yurt. It was rather cold, as the summer hadn't exactly reached this part of the mountains, and the family invited me inside for chai. I enjoyed a few cups of chai, made some attempts at the usual bland conversation when I noticed a car pulling up to the yurt. I didn't pay much attention to the car but the next thing I know, two familiar faces pop into the view and to my surprise, it was Merim, Ilona and Ilona's husband, Phillip, from Bishkek. Mind you I'm in the absolute middle of nowhere, not expecting to see anything remotely familiar except the blue sky above. So the Sultanova's had picked up Phillip from the airport who had just arrived from Switzerland, then they decided to go plan a vacation to Song Kol in conjunction with my visit. So we spent the next day riding horses around the mountains that surround lake Song Kol, even riding horses in Song Kol!

Riding horses into the drink

They 'invited me' (this was my first introduction to the wonderful term) for the horse ride, once again not allowing me to spend a penny. We spent that night in a yurt, just the four of us, bundled up in blankets and telling jokes until we fell asleep. It was really great to see them again and the next morning we said our farewells for a second time and I mounted the bike. 5 minutes down the road, I was already missing them.

Saying goodbye for the second time

So I cycled along the perimeter of the lake, from the north to the south shore, passing seasonal, semi-nomadic Kyrgyz families living in yurts and taking advantage of the endless green natural resources for their livestock. This was the beginning of my epic offroad adventure......more on that to come but first more pictures.

Look how small the kid is compared to the horse

Kyrgyz kids around Song Kol

Our beautiful horses at Song Kol

Big Guns!

A Kyrgyz family and their yurt around Song Kol

This kid reminded me of Chunk from the Goonies