270km to Jalal-Abad before noon? You betcha! What would we not do for good back massages! Up and away by 7:30 am, we were happily cruising through the lovely countryside around the sadly low Toktogul reservoir lake when we were abruptly halted in our progress by a policeman. This gentleman pointed out rather matter-of-factly that we had exceeded the speed limit by a cool 35-kph.. there was no denying it as he waved a speedgun in my face, proving his point. We got away lightly: instead of the 5000 SOM he had hinted at, 5o0 were enough to put a smile on his face, and we left him waving an admonishing finger at us as we headed deeper into the lower Naryn gorge: a stunning ravine cut into red sandstone by the Naryn river (photo on top).

By 10am, we had made it out of the mountains, and the Ferghana valley spred out in front of us. Gone were the nomads, the yurts, the sheep and the horses as Central Asia’s bread basket revealed neat rows of poplar trees, fields, irrigation canals etc. We toiled in the heat for the next few hours, arriving in Jalal-Abad just in time, as we were getting weary of the ride: with all the fantastic mountain scenery gone, all we could really think of was the Jalal-Abad Sanitorium massage the Lonely Planet promised wrote about so fondly. Finding the sanatorium, however, was a different story… Tucked away in one of the many delapidated soviet-era buildings of a park in desperate need of renovation (but with potential), anyone having grown up behind the iron curtain would definitely have felt quite familiar with the surroundings. That said, we did eventually get our massage, and it was indeed good, although we both agreed that the Lonely Planet has a tendency to exagerate at times, and with lunch taken care of in an equally soviet-style cavernous building, onwards we ploughed to Osh, in the hopes of making up one day on our delay.

Along Jalal-Abad’s main street, streetlights are tucked away behind tree branches, on the right hand side. Remember this if you’re ever there, because, as a foreigner, you won’t know it and you will end up running the lights… and the police here will love you for it. Naturally, they completely ignore the locas that run the lights and go straight for the unsuspecting foreigner… As it so happens, we were riding down the main street, still tingling from the vigor of our massages when the car in front of us came to an abrupt halt, some 10 meters PAST the light. Not having seen it ourselves, we stopped suddenly to avoid rear-ending the car. Only then did we see the police officer opposite, assuredly the reason why the car had stopped so suddenly. Blissfully ignoring the car, the officer went for both of us, insisting that we had gone through on red. Techincally this was not true, as the light was still orange… but nevermind. Determined not to pay off 2 policemen on the same day, we played the “I do not understand” card, repeating ad-nauseam that we were headed for Uzbekistan and Turkey; 5 minutes later, the guy gave up and we were Oshward bound.

The 110km that remained were hot and bothered, with both of us longing for a shower and a real bed to sleep in. The highlight of the afternoon was lounging under a roadside canopy, nibbling on the russian equivalent to gingerbread cookies and sipping pepsi, 25km from Osh.  Finally, we made it to the Osh Guesthouse (another difficult one to find), happpy that this day had come to a close.

As we ware leavign Kyrgyzstan tomorrow, here is a summary of the sustainability situation in this country: Above all, it must be said that the great majority of the countryside is pristine. Moreover, it seems that real effort is being made to keep it that way: eco-tourism is encouraged and locas have a stake in preserving the environment. We rarely saw any littering in the mountains and electricity is produced sparingly through generators. Sadly, today, just as we were singing the country’s praise, we were taken aback at the appaling state of the river that runs through Osh: flanked by the bazaar, the river and its banks are nothign short of a rubbish dump… a great shame.

Once again, we woke up early. We shared breakfast with Alexandre and Lina, the French couple, and what a breakfas! The landlady had prepared pancakes and a sort of Blinis (it’s not called Blinis, but I can’t remember the right name…), and there was marmalade, cheese, etc. It felt good to be back in a region, where they enjoy “continental breakfast”. We were a little tired of noodle soup…

With a full stomach, we felt ready for the long journey to Toktogul. The sun was shining, a fresh but mild wind blew, in other words, another “perfect day” seemed to have started. At first, the road was decent, with wholes here and there, but nothing serious. The landscape was beautiful, starting with colourful mountains, green prairies started to appear and occupy the whole valley. Few cars on the road. However, we got to learn how to deal with a new challenge: Animals on the road. Funily, the Kyrgyz like to take their cows, horses, sheeps, goats, etc. for a walk on or accross the street. Judging by the beahviours of other cars, this is a perfectly common phenomenon and the traffic rule seems to be that the cars have to slow down, be patient, and wait for the animals to make room. Whereas sheeps and goats are very reactive and make room very quickly, horses and cows are another story. Horses get scared and become unpredictable, although they obey quite easily to their owners, and it is thus just a question of seconds until they make room for us. The worst kind are without doubt the cows. They are not bothered at all by the cars waiting to be left trhough, they take their time, leaving you the only choice to force your way through them, slowly. I had never realized before how much cows stink! It took us the morning to get used to these new road users, it’s so much more fun then having to overtake a truck. So, despite the animals, we were able to reach our lunch break destination Chaeyk (approx. 240 km from Naryn) for lunch, where we enjoyed our first central asian meal: Borsch and Gulash.

Given how smoothly the road had been until lunch, we were quite optimistic about the prospects to reach Toktogul within the next 2-3 hours, another 180 km we estimated… However, it did not last long until we run into our next challenge: the road changed, it became a narrow mountain path following a river, with no barrier on the side, so that you could clearly see what would happen to you if you were to slip…  I make it sound worse than it was, but it was challenging riding on gravel and mud, in a hitting sun, high in the mountains, with no one around. Around 3:30pm we had ridden about40km since our lunch break and finally reached what seemed to be the end of this dreadful mountain path: Kizyl Oi. There even seemed to be a Tourist Information Office, but unfrotunately no one was there, except a dog, which barked furiously as soon as Mark penetrated the property. Actually, Kyrgysz dogs seem to have something against motorbikes. Everytime we pass by a dog, they start to chase us and bark quite agressivly. Lucky us, our bike is faster then they are!

So, since there was no one in Kizyl Oi, and it was still early, we decided to continue. The bad road last another 20km, but then tarmac appeared again and it did not last long before we joined THE national road Bishkek – Osh (there is only one). Great tarmac, few cars, amazing scenery (check out the pictures). However, there is no fun without a challenge, right ? So it was, the road was a great quality, but it went up, and up and up, till a pass at 3200m, where a snow “storm”  (I do exaggerate slightly) awaited us.  Suddenly, the scenery changed again and strated to resemble strongly the Alpes. It lasted until we descended again a couple of thousand meters, reaching the region of Toktogul. According to the symboil on our map for Toktogul, we expected a rather big city, but we crossed it in less than 5 min. We had actually thought to stay there for the night, but we hadn’t even have a chance to look for the city center, we had already passed the town. So, we decided to continue and try our luck in the next village, which was more like a group of 6 houses…

Since the sun was beginning to set, we did not really have time to continue looking, and so it seemed that our tent would be our hotel for the night. We looked for a quite and nice place to spend the night, and established our tent near a river, in a wild lavender field. After eating some power bars and our Buendnerfleisch, we quickly fell asleep surrounded by the sound of the river and the moon light. I definitely like Kyrgysztan!

The sun was up by the time we crawled out of our yurt, and it was under a crystalline sky that we did our morning exercises, followed by a hearty russian breakfast, served with a wonderful smile by our ever-so-lovable hosts. Only 100km separated us from Naryn, our next pit-stop, leaving more than enough time to explore the Tash-Rabat caravanserai. In fact, nature was calling, so we decided to hike the 5 or so kilometers to the caravanserai and return to the yurt camp for lunch before tackling the dust and gravel again.

The 1h20 walk allowed us to take in some of the most magnifiscent mountain scenery, the smell of tarmac and burned tyres replaced by that of grass and the endless hooting of trucks by the chirping of birds. We were glad to get our legs moving, since they get rather cramped after long hours in the saddle: indeed, although this trip is no “walk in the park”, it isn’t the most phyically vigorous either. It’s good, no, even necessary, to get our good ol’ joints moving once in a while.

The Caravanserai is an impressive construction, dug into the side of a valley, dating from in between the 10th and 15th century, with quite a number of small rooms and stables where travellers, traders and their beasts could rest up. The next 45 minutes were spent basking in the sun, as we imbibed the beauty, calm and simplicity of this wonderous place.

With a lethargy probably equalled only by that of a lizzard, I dragged myself up from a blissful few minutes in the sun (Clarisse, naturally, had to wait for me again), during which my mind had excaped as I pondered the advantages and disadvantages of turning 30. (Happily, the pros defeated the cons and all was well in my world). We followed the meandering stream back to the yurts, where we polished off a couple of helpings of Plov (Pilaw) before bidding farewell to the yurts and this enchanting little valley. Back down the road, we were faced with our friend the river again. Needless to say, after yesterday’s spill, I was slightly more concerned. Moreover, I couldn’t stop thinking of the consequences of actually going down IN the river… I picked my spot, revved the engine, closed my eyes and eased the clutch: the bike lurched forwards and a second later, I was on the other side… only to face a group of horses that didn’t seem to mind that they were in my way… moving to avoid them, I ran the bike through some deep gravel and yup… for the 2nd day in a row, the wheels spun out and down I went. Again, no injuries. Moreover, I was lucky to fall on the right side again: with my right blinker and rear-view mirror already broken there was precious little left to break on that side!

The rest of the road to Naryn was uneventful, although I must admit that with 2 spills in 2 days, I was considerably less confident and more fearful than before. In Naryn, we pulled up to the Tourism office (called CBT, short for Community Based Tourism), where learned that our itinerary had to be rethought: there was still too much snow on the Naryn-Kazaraman road. Rats. Moreover, in such a mountainous country, there are no short detours. The only way from Naryn to Osh was ALL the way around the country… (thank god this is a small country!). So, instead of looking forward to a short day on the road, we were sudddenly faced with another 450km monster day. Our hearts sank, but since riding through snow on a motorbike is NOT an option, we bit the bullet as we headed to the homestay recommended by the friendly chap at the CBT. Funnily enough, the french couple we had met yesterday was also staying there!

One interesting observation to leave with you: it seems there is a special link between Germany and Kyrgyzstan: not only are a great majority of the cars old Audis and Mercedes, the petrol station we stopped at indicated the price in Deutsch Marks and a number of trucks and minivans still had decals from their previous homes around Germany. So next time you get rid of your Audi and wonder where it gets resold as a used car, chances are that it will be in Kyrgyzstan!

Wow. We made it!
The day started in slow motion, our driver – the same who took us to the arch – was late. I didn’t know whether this was a bad omen, or whether this was a message ‘take it easy’. I opted for the latter interpretation… So, we took it easy and left Kashgar around 10am, arriving at the FIRST border post around 11am. We were impressed by the professionalism and politeness of the border officials, who after checking our temperature, our luggage, our bikes (still in the truck), our passports and visas, let us through within a little more than an hour. Then started the 100 kil of so-called no man’s land, which was however far from being inhabited. So, after two small checkpoints at which our passports were checked, we stopped along the road for some pilaw rice with lamb… We reached the FORTH Chinese border post around 4pm (chinese time, ie 2pm kirgiz time). There, we downloaded our bikes from the truck and started to mount our luggage. We were then ready to drive up the last couple of kilometers to the FIFTH and last Chinese check point. So far, everything went fine and everybody was friendly, but time kept running. Another 10kil from the last Chinese post, we reached the SIXTH and first Kirgiz check point, and soon after the Kyrgyz custom post. There a few trucks were lining up in front of the gate, together with the 3 german vans i told you about in my last blog. We made our way along the trucks to the gate and were told to wait, ‘the boss is on his way’. By then, it was about 4pm local time. The boss arrived about 20min later, quite friendly, checked our passports (for the SEVENTH time) and easily let us through. So we thought. Actually, he just let us into the custom post, not through… In the custom post, a bunch of other border officials ask us for our passports (for the EIGHTH time), and the man which seemed to be the boss around let us into his office, where he kindly presents us two custom forms to fill in in English and the bill: 50 USD… A little expensive for a custom form, but then again, compared to the expensive bureaucratic chinese process, which took us considerably more time and money, we were quite satisfied with the outcome. We reach the exit gate of the custom post, and there again, for the NINTH time, our passports were checked. We are let through, but i am asked to enter a little cabban on the side of the street. There another official presents me with another form costing this time 60 USD ‘per machine’. I was somewhat suprised… And tried to explain with my hands that i just paid 50. After some gestual communication, it appeared that he thought we were together with the germans and wanted 60 per van. With my scarce russian vocabulary (learnt in the jeep on the way up), i was able to say ‘Switzerland, not Germany’ and so he let us continue our way.

According to our guide book, the next check point was expecting us at about another 30 kil, but it appeared to be more like 60. However, something else expected us. A breath taking scenery with sheeps, yaks, horses, AND marmottes crossing the road every one or two kilometers. We had just left China, and the scenery drastically changed, to a much wilder and untouched mountain scenery with green land everywhere. Unfortunately, changes were not all to the better. Suddenly we had no more phone coverage, and the road became all the more dustier as we penetrated deeper into this new and unknown country. This was No Man’s Land, but what a beautiful one!

We reached the last check point around 6pm local time, where – for the TENTH time – they checked our passports. We had by then another 25 kil until our target Tash Rabat, according to our guide book… We continued our way, a little worried about the day light starting to fade away, but just too happy to have made it so far, so that nothing else mattered. Almost 30 kil later, we reached the intersection to Tash Rabat, indicating another 15 kil. We engaged ourselves on to this even less comfortable road and only a few hundred meters later, i had this feeling that we weren’t there yet… the path we were on went straight into a small river nourished by the melting of the snow in the mountains, and came out again on the other side. MEI BANFA. We imagined ourselves many times in such situation, but actually having to face it felt somewhat scarier than in our imagination… I take a deep breath and press the accelerator, cross the river and end up a little wet but safe on the other side. Mark’s turn. He takes a deep breath, crosses the river, but then loses control of his bike and ends up in the gravel. Nothing serious, just the mirror and the front blinker got injured So, after spending 10min lifting the bike and putting everything back on, we continued. It didn’t last long until we passed by a Yurt camp where friendly faces and gestures seemed to welcome us. We hesitated, but since the sun was setting and neither Mark nor me were really up for another freezing night in the tent (we are again at over 3000m altitude), we drove to the yurts. The Yurts were run by a couple of kirgiz born russians, and another french couple hiking around the region were also staying there. So we joined them for dinner, and it was even good (no mutton). We then discovered that they even had a Sauna, a home made one, heated with cow dung!

After a long day, we had arrived in the nicest place we could have imagined to be. Let’s hope all of Kyrgysztan is like that! Ciao!

Posted by Wordmobi