Monthly Archives: July 2013

Into Kazahkstan

Tuesday 2nd July 2013

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Wake at 6am. The outside of the tent is black with flies. Cover up, long trousers and dash out. After a short while, however, a slight breeze blows them all away. Then we could appreciate the grandeur and spectacle all around us. Which ever way you look there are mountains, some capped in snow or clouds. The lake is glittering, it looks so inviting. I ask everybody if they fancy a swim. I go solo. It is fresh but not cold, and slightly salty. I am wary as this is the first time I have swum since damaging my knee. I just kick about. Lying on my back I watch terns and oyster catchers. Swans take off noisily. This is bliss. Slight yoghurt issue.

On the road we pass very little children in a school playground. Brightly coloured blankets hang over the wall, presumably to sit on or to have a nap. Not sure how far we want to go today. Maybe visit Karakol, the regional capital, and check if the border really is open. Our route will be along the lake and through the Karakol valley. No mountain ranges to cross today. We may even cross into Kazakhstan, but secretly we all want to stay in KYR longer. Kazakhstan and the little bit of Russia we enter are hard transportation days. We want to defer as long as possible, but we we thrilled last night when we were talking about entering Mongolia in less than a fortnight. Tim and I have to enter before 15th July. Atle said there are plenty of lakes for me to swim in there.

Just looked in the back of Landy, the water melon has hitched a ride!!!! Who sneaked that in? Tim feeling great in the mornings, lousy after malaria tablets. Should we have bothered? Glad he now realises what is making him feel so bad. Swifts. Pictures of people displayed on lamp post, some still living, some dead. Famous people of the area? Red kite. Glad Hilda and Atle pleased with speed Tim is driving at. Kid on a swing. Do people have yurts in their garden as they are cheaper and easier to heat in the winter?

Oil barrel house. Tiny resort. Only thing on beach were sheep. Hospitality huts, not quite ready for the summer season. Large abandoned Soviet hotel. Kazakhstan car. Water is so clear, turquoise and blue. Exclusive development of wooden chalets. Everything else very down at heel. Fighter plane displayed on cliff – Lightning Jet? Beautiful wooden stock fences, a real work of art. Children trundling milk churns. Great elation for the men, a Range Rover. Pungent burning rubbish on edge of town. Not sure recycling has hit the Stans yet. Man sitting on back of open truck, operating a cherry – picker with two men in the basket. Accident waiting to happen. Little girl in pink herding goats.

Had a wonderful couple of hours in Karakol. Looking for the Tourist Information I am approached by a young woman. Can I help you? How did she know I was a tourist? Irana used to work at the Tourist Information. She offers to take us there. We meet a young man, who also speaks English. Next month he is going to study at Bergen University. What a coincidence. Hilde talks to him and they swop contact details. Maybe they will meet in Norway. We confirm the crossing at Karkyra is open. Tim buys his first map on the trip, bit annoyed it wasn’t folded properly. Hilde buys traditional hat for Atle. He wears it all over town. Locals don’t notice a thing.

When we look for a place to eat, the first is closed until evening, as Ramadan started yesterday. Irana takes us somewhere else, and helps choose traditional dishes of Lagman. Won’t need to cook later. Atle says the noodles were better than the ones Hilde cooked last night. Irana tells us a little about herself. She was born and brought up in Karakol. She is now married and lives with her husband’s parents, as he is the youngest son. Nuff said!!!! She went to university, which is affiliated with the University of Central Asia we saw yesterday. For one year she was on an Erazmus placement in Belgium, and spent a month in Yorkshire. She now works for a Japanese company who are helping local people market their produce. She took us to the community shop, where jams, honey, soaps are all made with fresh local ingredients. They also make felt, turning it into hats, waist coats, slippers, handbags and ornaments. All the dyes are natural. Tim bought a pendant for the car, and Atle and Hilde bought the shop out.

Irana also runs a guest house, but we plan to carry on and camp near the border. Put two cans of beer in the fridge and set off. Tim was saying that KYR has a wonderful sense of optimism. Although the average wage is only $100 a month, people support each other in families, they are mostly self sufficient for basic foods, and countries like Japan are pouring a lot of aid and expertise into the country. Even their flag looks like a smiling yellow sun on a red background.

Arrive in Tup. Isn’t that what you do to sheep? Heading towards another mountain range, but I think we turn right and drive along the Karkyra valley. Mountains on one side, river on the other. Darn it, didn’t look for a kettle. 3pm. Are we going for the border today, or in the morning? Horses on the road at home are so precious. They are usually being ridden, the rider signals to slow and drivers have to creep around them. Here, the horses, ridden or not, don’t bat an eyelid, and drivers just carry on.

Going to try for the border today. Not sure of the opening times on the Kazakhstan side. Is there a time difference? Sorry not to be camping another night here. In KZ we have to stay in hotels, and drive at 50kph. Tim reckons we haven’t seen another GB car since Hungary. Think the Cornlanders will be heading back from Romania soon. We arrive at crossing 4.10pm. Up on a high plateau, you can see why it is only open in summer. Remember, some of the officers may be fasting, and hungry by now.

Barrier sways precariously in the wind. Muscled guard in cut away shirt sleeves is using the fence as a ballet bar. Lots of handshakes for the men and pats on the backs. Diesel? Yes. Common language. We leave at 5.20pm. Best one yet.

Have to head to Kegan, as we need to sort out insurance. We think. Also get some currency. See rain sweeping in from the west. Not sure we can do much wild camping here. Hail stones and leaking footwell. No insurance or currency in Kegan. Even asked a policeman, Atle’s NBF. We move on. Remember the speed limit is 50kpm. 16 million people live in KZ, which is the size of Western Europe. Thought Iran was big.

So another country. What will the people be like? Have a planning meeting in lay by. Not much between here and Almatay. Stop if we see anything interesting, press on if not. Wow, these plains are enormous. No habitation for miles, nothing. What a contrast again, it is staggering. Nowhere to camp out of view. Long straight roads. First time we have headed west for a while, evening sun blinding. Very little traffic. No animals. No fences. No trees. Feel like the only ones left on earth. Climb up. Moonscape. Back down to another endless plain.

A bus stop. But where do people come from to catch a bus? A couple of fast cars overtake us. Phew. We are not alone. A solitary tree planted next to a memorial stone. Wooden hut. Door locked. A settlement, Kokpek. Chinese coach. Then a gorge.

More vegetation appears gradually. Smell fresh after downpour. Trees line the road. Little stalls. Range Rover. Go through town. More litter than I’ve seen in several countries. Buckets with homegrown produce in. Vendors sitting patiently in shade.

Local cars slow down. Atle overtakes. Police speed trap. Pull him over. He has another NBF!!!!! Let him go without a fine. Jammy toad. Another lower plain. More vegetation, but nothing cultivated. Sheep. Another little town. More traffic. Crazy driving. Men putting swish new gates up at end of drive. Little market still busy.

Pull up at swanky hotel. Hilde and I do our double act. No room!!!!! Go next door. They don’t mind that we smell, they let us in. Meet in restaurant, beer, lamb and chips.

Monday. It must be Kyrgyzstan!!!

Monday 1st July

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Wake up smiling.
Morning frogs. Look out of rooftent, can’t believe where we are. Kyrgyzstan. Up early before it gets too hot. So looking forward to a cup of coffee, last one was in Tehran. I grind some beans. Kettle leaking from every joint. Muesli and yoghurt. Notice two moths have spent the night on my chair. Go into trees with shovel for morning ablutions. Frog watches Tim. Shower in a box, except Tim and Atle who know there is water on the awnings, but can’t get out of the way in time. Hilarious. Calves graze around us. I take neck scarves to river, so I can get a sneaky paddle. Freezing water trickles down back.

We take pizza pieces out of freezer. The plan is to stop for a proper picnic lunch, wrap the pizza in tinfoil, and put on manifold, as microwaves are not working. I also have said if we don’t start the water melon today, it is not going back in our car. So there. Two cyclists go past, shout hi. Awesome. Very few vehicles. Tractor towing a car. Every one waves.

Large eagle flaps down from pylon, soars overhead waiting for us to go, eat our scraps. There is only a piece of dried bread. When walking, you smell crushed herbs. Back on the road. Wonder if we can go over that tiny pass? Only 22km to Kazarman. Three bikers come down off a track. Wave and wobble. They spoke to Atle and Hilde. Dutch. Hired bikes in Biskek, and touring for three weeks. Going to try long lens on camera today, and take pics in sport mode. Worth a try.

Spot a Great Grey Shrike. Bird book falling apart, it has Claire Riley written in very young handwriting with a long tail on the y. Fly Catcher with its mouth full of insects. My handbag had a tear on the bottom. Statue wrapped in plastic. Spectral. A lot of old Audis.

Get to Kazarman, look for fresh bread. Woman in shop spoke good English, said they are getting more tourists. See a woman carrying eggs. None for sale. They all keep chickens. We will have to look in a bigger town, or at a market. Saw a discarded water melon skin. Fruit scooped out of two halves. May try it that way. Bread smells lovely in warm car. Must try not to wave like the Queen. Man flags us down for a lift. Sorry.

Scythes and stooks. Lorry with the biggest afro of grass, people sitting on top. Climbing again. Sunny, but cool air. Perfect driving weather. Ask a local about the tiny road. It is closed. What a shame. Head to Naryn. Discover three large mossie bites on shoulder. They must have snuck into tent. Esme, this road is like going over a cattle grid. What do I have to hold onto? Horse unperturbed by bird on its rump. I must say, the foam which Atle gave us to cushion the bonnet, really cuts down the noise.

Leaving the grasslands. Becoming drier. Fancy a cup of tea with my lunch. Het the pocket rocket out. Will have to use a pan, on account of leaking kettle. Eating our own dust now. Surprised Atle isn’t taking the short cuts, for those who want to go faster. Huge plateau, with dozens of gers and thousands of animals.
Come down and have a proper picnic. Blankets spread on lemon sage, boiling water for tea and pizza heated on bonnet. Could do with a nap in the sun. Biggest bee ever lands on my shoe. Shoo. One large orange condor lorry passes in the hour we are there. Nothing else. Tim and Atle try to sort out a few more rattles, and let air out of the tyres. Still 117km to Naryn. Striations on cliffs run at 45 degree angle. Large irrigation trough feeds into stream. There is nothing written about this drive on any blog we have read, except Hilde’s.

Level plain. Tim and I have two more days of anti malaria tablets. Hopefully then the unpleasant side effects will cease. Two geese fly up from a sheltered pond. Fleeces hung out to dry. Amazing edifices in cemetery, big mounds of earth. Wooden telegraph poles, wires dangling. Where will the birds sit? Haven’t seen another Landy since Iran. Black kites soaring. Hoopoe.

At Naryn we pass the University of Central Asia. Mini buses picking up students. Dad waiting in a car. Something happened here in 1996, a blue plaque said so. Trolley buses. Large shady picnic areas. A veritable metropolis.

Climb again, between red sand stone cliffs. Road sign declares ” you can hear 1,000 times more, but it’s always better to see you”. A huddle of shepherds’ huts. 5.30pm first large lorries of the day. Follow the course of a stream. Dozens of gers along the bank. Some seemed to be selling drinks and honey. Busy road. Oncoming cars flashing, police speed trap. Enter a Nature Reserve. Sign said Fourty Yurt Rest Area. Cooler in the valley. Men in high viz jackets throwing dirt into potholes.

So refreshing to be driving in a country without road check points. Looking back, Turkmenistan was so repressive. – silly slow speeds and police blocks every few kms. Things have gradually improved as we have travelled through the Stans. To be fair, KYR has no borders with Afghanistan or Pakistan. Early evening sun dazzles. We climb to 3,030 m. A sign wishes us “Good Away”. Mountains look as if they are covered in green velvet. Dust makes me sneeze.

Road all gouged up. Road signs all hand painted. So cute, little fat workmen. Do they paint over them when the job is finished? Hare stock still under a tree. Roadworks go on for ages. Little villages set up for them. All returning for evening meal, stoves smoking. Look for a bush toilet, find one behind a tree.

We are heading to Lake Ysyk – Kol. Thought we would take northern shore, but after reading up about it Tim suggested the southern route. The Russians took over the north, and built a lot of resorts. The lower shore is more wild, and there are campsites. They are probably upgrading this road as it is becoming more of a tourist attraction. Let’s hope we get to swim.

Stop in Bolsevik so Hilde and Atle can get crisps. Fantastic health food shop, stocked with whole grain rice, pasta, noodle, nuts. We bought fresh eggs and peanuts. Little cafes set up in old containers. Kid with the coolest cap on. Cow just walked across the garage forecourt. Broken down car with an actual warning triangle. New road continues to north shore, we bump along old road. No one else is here.

The lake looks like the sea, it’s. huge. It doesn’t freeze in winter because of its depth and slight salinity. Bus stop built in shape of yurt. Hildefender startles dozens of little birds out of a bush, thought they were leaves.The campsite comprises – the beach. There is a man in front of a yurt, a few kayaks for hire and a rubbish bin. We set up camp in the dark and are the only people here. How many flies and mossies have you ever seen in your whole life? Now multiply by a million, and then some. We cover up vulnerable body parts and apply lashings of eco – friendly spray. We eat fresh tomato sauce, pasta and pesto. They eat noodles. The night sky is full of stars. We recognise the Plough. Early night. Climb into tent in dark, keep the little beasties out. Night night frogs.