cyclingthehimalayas.com : Mission Impassible!
Cycling in Central Asia, Cycling the Himalayas, Cycling in North India, Cycling in Nepal
Cycling Kyrgyzstan
Stunning, verdant, Yurt country mountain cycling. Incredible Mountain lake/resevoir swimming possibilities at Toktagul and elsewhere. Easy wild camping. Considerably cheaper than Uzbek!
(7km from Uzbek border to Osh)
Cycling from the border into Osh was disorientating, it's quite a big and sprawling city, or it seemed so at first. Luckily we bumped into an Israeli guy who showed us to Osh guesthouse...we say 'luckily' because we don't know how else you would find this guesthouse, but apparently locals know of it. It looks like a regular block of flats amongst others between Kyrgyzstan Road and Osh Road. Inside, the building takes the word 'compact' to a whole new level. A series of 4 bed dorms, a double room and one bathroom, but at around $7-10 a night it's cheap, well located, and it's run by a super friendly and spiritual muslim guy (no alcohol allowed).
We needed to get to a bank, found one eventually, tried to change money using our bank cards, not possible. I asked the counter staff if i could use the ATM outside, she said 'not possible', i would have to try another bank. We tried the ATM anyway and it was fine, we got our local currency and we learnt to be weary of local advice. We were hungry, saw some wonderful foodie pics outside a restaurant, the sliced fried potatoes catching our eyes, so we entered and excitedly asked about having the potato chips, but alas, as with Uzbek advertising promises, what you see on the board outside a restaurant is almost certainly not what's on offer, however, we did find somewhere with hot food we could eat, veg broth, a salad and two pretty good tasting beers on tap ;o)
Day 1 - Osh - Jalal-abad (110km)
From Osh guesthouse, back on the main road and it's a direct route straight out of the city. We were headed for Jalal-abad via Ogden/Uzgen. We were quick to learn the local dogs weren't going to let us pass without interrogation, in fact, at one stage we saw a dog ahead of us on our side of the road lying down...as a white van drove past it sprung up as if a firework had just been shoved up it's arse and literally went barking mad, even leaping at the van to bite it...naturally, this didn't invite us to cycle towards it. We crossed over to the other side of the road and learnt a good tactic: That dogs don't really like to cross the roads, if their territory is on one side, they mostly stick to that territory. The road was quiet, good tarmac, undulating, fields of wheat being harvested, small country abodes with the obligatory bright silver corrugated rooves (keeps the sun out/off presumably) dotted here and there off the road, and the occasional roadside pit stops.
Somewhere along the way, after Uzgen and close to Jalal-abad we found ourselves on a small and atrocious bone shaking road which lasted about 6 or 7km. This road came to a major junction and we were told it was left into Jalal-abad - indeed, just a km further and we were in town, almost immediately on our right as we entered, there was a sorry looking old hotel with many steps reluctantly climbing up to it's entrance. We hoped to stay in some cosy Homestays which we'd read about in an old Lonely Planet but with just phone numbers for the Homestays and a lack of Russian language skills, we didn't pursue this route - it would've been nicer for sure. We entered the hotel and the rough, growling old dog behind the counter gave us keys to two rooms and gesticulated that we take these keys to a woman upstairs who will show us the rooms. The pricey room was huge, in fact it was a flat with a few rooms situated off a main sitting area with sofas etc, but all of it very 70's in decor, very faded, tired, dusty etc...the considerably cheaper room was small, two single almost broken beds, filthy walls, blood splashed on one wall and an ogre's arm pit of a bathroom...unfortunately we had overspent in Uzbek so we took room 101 (much to the surprise of the staff) and hoped a few beers would help us settle in. The bikes were safely stowed near reception under the growling dog's gaze.
Day 2 - Jalal-abad - Tash-Kumr (100km)
We headed north out of Jalal-abad and were soon on the decent asphalt E010 aided by cloud cover and even a little rain. The road was flat and either side of it fields and fields of crops stretching to the horizon, mostly onions being harvested and then bagged by the side of the road. We stopped cycling at about 7pm as we'd soon be losing light. We'd just cycled past a dam near Tash-Kumr and found ourselves on top of a hill with an ugly industrial plant and soviet style blocks of flats down the hill on the left but pleasing (distant) views to THE mountains in front of us. Off the road to the right was a possible camping spot...we dragged the bikes uphill through scrub and over scree, it wasn't easy or ideal, but we got a bit of flat ground further up the hill to put the tents and the view of distant mountains was stunning, even more so when 4 or 5 lightning storms flashed and crashed all around us...in fact, it was a stunning performance and one that would keep us entertained until we were ready to sleep.
Day 3 - Tash-Kumr - Kara-Kul (65km)
Today was all ups and downs as we headed into the mountains that would keep us company all the way to Bishkek. We followed a river in the morning and i decided it looked clean enough for a bathe; so we stopped and i made my way down to the river, releasing a squeal on contact with the glacial water, but still managed a quick submerge, even quicker wash and more squealing (I am capable of unearthly sounds when in contact with freezing water). Ian wasn't quite as brave for the full submerge but then he didn't make odd sounds either. Later that morning we stopped for an ice cream by a few shops and rudimentary restaurants just before a tunnel that burrowed into the mountain and where an out of place grandiose soviet style statue watched over us. The Tunnel was in poor condition, dark, unlit, rough road. Beyond that, there was a second, longer tunnel, but thankfully a very thoughtful lorry driver drove slowy behind us lighting the way and protecting us from other rear vehicles - what a star!! Around luchtime, on the up and down roads; near to Kerpsey resovoir; we found an azure blue lake and river on our left, a paradise stop to get out of the heat and cook up some food (bottom left pic). It was a bit of a trek down off the road but it was stunning and secluded from the road; evidence of empty beer bottles and a camp fire suggested this made a nice camp spot too.
We had clocked up 65km and were entering Kara-Kul, we would lose light soon, but there was no place to stay despite us making it obvious to locals we needed a place to sleep. We cycled on, just as we left Kara-Kul, the road takes a hard left up a hill but to the right is an unused track which trails past some abandoned buildings and ends at a river bed amongst iron red hills. The buildings were unsuitable for camping (previously housed animals) but the river bed was secluded from the road, flat, perfect for camping and a little fire!
Day 4 - Kara-Kul - Toktagul Resevoir - south side (40km)
We stopped for provisions in Kara-Kul and perched ourselves at a bus stop to tuck in. Opposite us were an odd looking pair: an old man; so wrinkled it's like he had no water left in him; he looked like a muslim shepherd who'd been herding the local hills for centuries. Chatting to him, an overtly sexual, playful, tall (legs like poplars), slender, oriental and very professional looking thirty-ish woman with a gleaming bright yellow revealing blouse, short skirt and wielding a clipboard for professional effect. She was chatting away to the old shepherd but was completely distracted by our presence. Within minutes she got up, waltzed over to us with a smile she couldn't repress and feigned interest in our bikes. We showed her how the brakes worked and she releases a giggle etc. The moment couldn't have been more incongruous if a kangaroo had hopped past. If our Russian had extended beyond 'spaciba' our day could've gone down an unexpected road, one that may well have ended with a grateful 'spaciba'. As it was, like committed socialist workers, we were not to be distracted and laboured on our way. It was a beautiful days cycling; after Kara-Kul it was a peaceful ride on good tarmac following an energetic river which crossed the road and back again and was giving life to flowering prairie like grassland, reeds, poplars and dancing butterflies. To our right, on one stretch of road stood a wrecked car deliberatley placed on a plinth, totally at odds with the perfect pastoral scene (above right pic). We wrongly assumed it was a bizarre piece of artwork but later (having witnessed similar sculptures) realised these sculptures are sobering reminders of what happens if you don't drive safely. Soon we were climbing the 7km up to Kekbel pass at 2368m. The landscape became drier as we climbed and the heat ensured a tough climb for such a small pass. At the top we were rewarded with a view over Toktagul resevoir and to a young girl with a fridge = cold drinks and even ice cream. The descent to Toktagul resevoir is fast on good road and the resevoir ('lake' seems more appropriate!) was misted, blending the greys and blues of the lake, mountains and sky resulting in an other worldy neptunian scene. Despite the wild beauty of the place, few people were on the undeveloped lake shore. As we cycled along the south of the lake we passed a few corrugated iron shacks advertising fresh fish. They looked inviting, but we continued onward seeking total isolation and after about 6 or 7km around the lake we found (it took some looking) a track dropping steeply off the road down to the waters edge. We put our bikes down and jumped in the resevoir fully clothed, it was the perfect temperature and a reward for half a day's hot cycling. Dripping and walking back to our bikes we realised that the beach was covered in plants, beautiful familiar leaves and a slight sweet scent - it was a dope beach. It was even growing in the resevoir, like seaweed - pun intended. The mountains in the back ground hazy with the mist was too glorious a setting, our day cycling was over, we would be camping on dope beach. We manouvered around a scree peninsula to a small cove which couldn't have been more secluded.
Day 5 - Toktagul Resevoir south side - Toktagul Town (45km)
A day cycling around the lake, starting with relentless, small but steep ups and downs and then the road moved away from the lake somewhat and became totally flat, with the lake to the left we were travelling east along the ever thinning eastern edge of the resevoir. We stopped in the village of Sargate, still on the south side, which had a few mini markets around the petrol station junction. At the junction, the road perpendicular to the lake and petrol station has a mini market on the right with lots of fruit and veg on display outside and the usual basic stuff inside; baked beans, sweetcorn etc. This is a good place to stock up as the next few villages have little on offer and even Toktagul town has less than Sargate. From Sargate, the landscape is expansive and impressive, on this fast flat road just before you reach the bridge which crosses the eastern tip of the resevoir there's an old industrial site which houses two abandoned cranes which resemble mechanical
giraffes!!?
Over the bridge and the road is fast and flat, a view of the giraffes over your left shoulder. Eventually the once flat road undulates, passing through a small villge with no amenities before flattening out again to arrive in Toktagul town. The main town on this wildly beautiful neptunian lake/resevoir with it's misty majestic mountain backdrop surely has massive tourism potential, we had sky high hopes...as you enter the town, on the main road on your left is a new, elongated one storey hotel. We didn't stop here but it's probably worth a look because it's the only new looking thing in this town, in fact, this was possibly one of the most neglected, decrepid places we stopped at in Kyrgyzstan, and that's saying something! The main road is full of car mechanics and mini markets with an emphasis on 'mini', whose stock is mostly alcohol and a few very basic provisions: tins of sweetcorn, peas, super noodles, eggs, onions, not a lot more than that - but plently of alcohol. If you carry on down the main road you come to a major left turn which one rightly assumes goes down to the lake - a desolate depressing lake shore, such a contrast to the south side where we camped. This left turn is like the road to a David Lynch town: Something in the air is not quite right. Everything around it is in a state of neglect: all the green areas are overgrown, children's play areas in disrepair. Men hang around in gangs, smoking, drinking with a slightly shifty air about them and the few women in public sit in the neglected parks with their doomed children. About 400m down
this road on the left is a permanently empty hotel which we stayed at, it was clean enough and had a voyeur's balcony but the shower didn't work and the hot tap was reluctant. Regardless, however crap this town was, we had a balcony in a town that had more booze than food or people, so for two days we sat back, played cards and drank the reasonable Kyrgz or Russian 'Baltika' beer, knowing that the next part of our journey was an epic, tough ascent to the top of the Alabel pass. A young, attractive, well spoken local girl attached herself to us not long after we arrived. It was refreshing to be able to communicate with a local, but unfortunately she spun us a story about her brutal husband who she fled from, coincidentally the night before. She needed some money so she could escape to Bishkek...we would've happily given her a fiver if she just said she was skint, seeing how miserable it must be to live there.
Day 6 - Toktagul Town - Somewhere up the Alabel Pass (60km) Leaving the Lynch mob, it's downhill out of Toktagul and then a hefty climb of about 2km up and over a hill (which had a recently overturned long lorry) before the road undulates for about 20km. The road is quiet, it's dry but not barren with scrub and grasslands stretching to the panoramic mountain back drops. After about 30km, we'd obviously ascended as the landscape is alpine in all it's scented glory. Out of the blue (or green) we see a sign for a resort and decide to check it out for a drink stop. This was our first sniff of actual Kyrgyz tourism - it's a newly built resort, right on the raging rapids of the river in a truly beautiful alpine spot...but it's empty...and probably always will be...shame. From here the road gently inclines - up and up. We stop for lunch and Ian is struggling, something isn't right with his stomach. We continue the ascent, luscious green grassland stretches away from the road to the foot of the mountains and then steeply climbs up to the sky. Yurt's appear on the grasslands, wild horses graze here and there, huge flocks of goats and sheep pepper the mountain sides. After further ascent (seen in the pic below, Ian cycling head down, suffering) we stop again and Ian almost collapses by his bike with his head drooping between his legs. I grimace when i see his clammy ashen face. We are going nowhere. I cross the road, find an enclosed flatish grassy patch to pitch the tents. With Ian more or less passed out, i realise how beautiful this place is, looking back across the road to the very verdant mountains, the light from the setting sun is slowly replaced by shadow creeping it's way up to the top until the last bit of light evaporates from the peak. This whole time i watch spellbound, a single herdsman on horseback attempting to herd about 300 sheep that are widely scattered all over the mountain side, covering such a wide area i figure there's no way he will guide the herd on his own...so it's to my amazement and awe that slowly, sheep by sheep, he expertly guides them down the mountain to the yurts, where presumably they will be safer from wolves. The contrast is Ian passed out after being sick and Toby having the most serene time of the whole journey watching the herdsman and getting lost in the moment, replacing any memories or baggage of life back in the UK.
Day 7 - Somewhere on the south side of the Alabel Pass - Somewhere just before the Tor Ashu Pass (55km) Ian, looking like he has died, stubbornly insists he can get up and over the pass. We thought it was just a few km to the pass but we would learn it was another 10km. Leaving our stunning camp spot, we continue up, a yurt here and there or metal trailers house the shepherds and their incredibly excitable children who go beserk in a fountain of screams when they see us coming or going. Three little cheeky chops scream us to a stop and say 'foto, foto', and battle each other into position for the picture forgetting to smile as they do!! Ian was so weak and wobbly he couldn't even cycle but could just about prop himself up and so battle on pushing his bike up the hill. The view to our left as we are about 2km from the pass is stunning, a valley with a track and a river running through with a scattering of Yurt life - as you can see in the pic. With a clear blue sky overhead we reached the top of the Alabel pass 3184m, and were greeted by snowy peaks and a super friendly family from Bishkek. The father must have been a weight lifter, or perhaps used to be a tank. He almost certainly eats whole cows, raw, after any gym session. He proudly introduced his teenage daughter, Madonna, who proved to be a useful but shy translator. There was no shop on the pass, we must have looked disappointed bordering on distraught, as Rambo kindly asked Madonna to fetch their last can of coke from the car - it's little gestures like this that make the world go round. When the family parted we absorbed our environment and the achievement of conquering our first pass over 3000m.
It's an easy free wheeling descent and after 15km or so, the landscape flattens to vast grazing plains stretching to mountain backdrops on both sides of the road. On our right, a river flows from the pass and follows the road out over the verdant plains. Yurts become more frequent on both sides and with them, families and flocks of sheep, goats, cows and horses and the occasional barking dog which gets barked at twice as visciously by Ian. With practice, Ian has mastered his growl to such an extent that even viscious dogs seem to back off. A good 10km of flat and Yurt life but very little shade, we stop at one Yurt and ask if they can fill our bottle with fresh milk. Their milk tends to be mares milk rather than cows. The family seem overjoyed that i have asked and return the bottle full and wave away my attempt at offering money. We see a bridge to our left, off the road which a tributary runs beneath, we cycle off the road and findour way under the bridge to take a shaded pit stop in which i can use the milk to make porridge - wow the milk is sooo sweet! It's a beautiful spot and one in which we are entertained by the numerous swallows darting to and from their nests that are housed under the bridge. We set off again on the mercifully flat plains and after an hour and a half of cycling there's a brand new looking petrol station. Normally, petrol stations stock little more than oil, grease and the like, but our faces light up with the huge glossy pictures of food all over the front of the garage, and for once it's not false advertising: crisps, chocolate, ice cream, beer, biscuits and soft drinks...everything a cyclist in Kyrgyzstan needs. We meet a super friendly family from Bishkek who give us their address and invite us to their home, the father knows little english but can say, with a huge grin: 'David Beckham, Michael Owen', and he seems keen that we get to know his nubile young daughter better and miraculously she shares his attitude!? A further 2km from the petrol station and we drag our bikes off the road, over a small bank into long grass, the kind that flows in unison in the wind. It was a wonderful spot, with hills behind us, wonderful views across the road to the other plains and the distant mountains. No sooner had i started preparing a salad that small flies were becoming an increasing pain. I realised they were as hungry as we were, and within about 20 mins they were literally swarming. We had no option but to retreat to our tents to escape these tiny vampires - not such a great camping spot. It wasn't until the sun had gone down that they disappeared as quickly as they had appeared and it was safe to unzip the tent.
Day 8 - Close to base of Tor Ashuu pass - Bishkek (75km)
It's a beautiful climb up the Tor Ashuu pass, verdant grasslands with wild horses grazing all around. It would be even more stunning descending the pass because the view back across the plains (from whence we came) was stunning, the view faded into hazy mist creating a really magical neptunian landscape. From half way up the climb it's switchbacks - although steeper than the Alabel pass, it's not as long and feels more merciful. The top of the pass isn't anything to write home about with a tunnel the only way to the other side, but it was our highest climb yet at 3500m. As we approached the tunnel we were accosted by a guy who asked if we had any high visability jackets/tops; which we didn't; but we both had bike lights - but this didn't seem okay with him; he wanted high-viz; not lights. He radioed his superiors, at least we assumed they were his superiors, he may have been calling a high altitude pizza delivery service, and he then paused, thought for a bit...let's face it, what was he going to do, refuse us entry?? He gesticulated for us to proceed, but to be careful. Now, if he was really worried, what he could (and should) have done was to hold up any vehicles for 5 minutes to give us a chance of getting through, but he didn't. Our experience of Kyrgyz tunnels were grim and this one didn't prove any better, poorly lit or no lights in places, rough roads, pot holes, wet. It was a few km of tunnel and with cars approaching and a few coming from behind, it was a lip biting cycle, mostly because of how poorly lit it was, in places you couldn't see the road condition. Anyway, we survived and at the other side we were greeted by a much steeper and foreboding affair. Whereas our climb had wonderful views back across the plains, this was a steep drop on switchbacks with towering mountains which felt as if they were painted black: It felt like a descent into unknown darkness...and it went on and on...this would be a killer climb if approached from Bishkek. After 10 mins free wheeling we met a french guy who had stopped for breath. He had bought a bike in Bishkek and this was his first pass, ouch! No panniers, just a holdall attached to the back and wearing flip flops...not exactly geared up for such a pass. We felt a mix of great respect and mocking sympathy for him! It's a long and tiring decent in which you are sandwiched between the towering mountain range, but small waterfalls and streams offer some hope and a water source in this bleak terrain. Eventually the road levels out, it's considerably hotter, the earth is reddish brown and very dry with some patches of grass, thirsty trees, and you reach a road check for vehicles. Around here it's possible to stop under one of the big trees for a break after the tiring descent. As we passed through the road check without hinderence, a spindly looking western cyclist passed us. It was a comic scene: He wore an unkempt beard, was bare chested, sweating profusely, weighed down with a monsterously heavy looking backpack. Similar to the french guy he had a plank of wood over the back wheel with a holdall attached to it. Considering that the DESCENT was tiring, the thought of this guy attempting this climb so poorly prepared made us squirm, really, we couldn't stop talking or thinking about it - imagine - that huge rucksack breaking his back up that pass. We concluded he would either take 2 or 3 days to get up there; give up and go back to Bishkek; or combust.
From the road check it's fast asphalt as the landscape is slightly descending, through villages and wasteland all the way to Kara Balty. When you reach the main junction at Kara Balty, there's a quality mini market on the corner with a fridge full of ice creams/lollies. It's a right turn, east to Bishkek. We were in a quandry: We'd cycled 75km including the climb up the pass and tiring long descent, it was getting late, about 16:45. We spoke to locals who offered little knowledge of anywhere for us to stay. We also assumed it would be all urban/industrial from here to Bishkek as it looked like a major through road on the map with many smaller side roads tangling their way into it. So, without a place to stay and no camping possibility, we reluctantly decided to see if we could get a cab or van to escort us to Bishkek. If not, then we'd be cycling in the dark, not something we wanted to do on a busy road. I approached a taxi driver with a saloon car and asked if there were any van taxi's for our bikes, he said there wasn't but he would take us - can't remember the price, but it was reasonable. We agreed, had to dismantle our front wheels, but managed to get all our stuff and bikes and ourselves into his cab - I like this about these developing nations, anything is possible. In europe, no taxi driver would ever agree to such a mission, but i guess it's all about how much you need the cash. It was an unexciting journey and although we didn't like the idea of taking the easy ride, it was probably a good decision. However, about 15km from the Kara Balty junction there is a small stretch of countryside that camping looked possible. It wasn't isolated, there were houses dotted, but it would probably be okay. We were recommended 'Nomads Home' as a place to stay by a German diplomat living in Bishkek...and eventually found it located slightly north of the centre, behind the city's east bus stand (the Hostel is on google maps).
BISHKEK
The owner met us and said the Hostel was full but there was room for our tent. We'd read they had tent space and we figured this would be cheap and cheerful...but in reality there was little to be cheerful about. We entered and were presented with a huge outdoor area full of touring bikes. Clearly this was the haunt for tour cyclists which meant it would be a useful source of info. The garden was ram packed full of tents, there was only room for our 2 man tent and that was it. The 12 bed dorm had one bed spare for us. So, there were about 40 people staying there for a place designed for 12, with one toilet and one shower and because it was so crowded the only space to sit was on the concrete by all the bikes. So, it was cheap but not worth it. We stayed two nights, met some nice people, it's a sociable place (it's impossible not to be), we received some useful info, or rather, disappointing info that the Kyrgyz and Kazakhs had squabbled and the Kazakhs had closed their embassy in Bishkek, so we wouldn't be able to get to Almaty to apply for a 2 or 3 month China visa. Also, that in Bishkek we would get maximum 1 month China visa if we were lucky, and that the Kashgar to Lhasa route through China/Tibet was an impossibility this year due to political tensions in Xinjiang. One cyclist had come through Xinjiang into Kyrgyz and said it wasn't worth the cycle so hassled was he by the Military from one place to the next and in and out of Hotels...something we would have to look into. Sakura guesthouse (off Jibek Jolu Av, also on google maps) was full but Ian found another place to stay: Kyrgyz Host. This is a brand new building about 10mins further down the main road out of town from Sakura. Heading down Usup Abdramanov Av you pass the football pitch on your left and eventually you hit the river, cross the bridge and immediately go left down the steps onto the track, alongside the river. When on your right you see an electricity power plant (about the size of a van), take the right turn track by it and at the first junction you come to is Kyrgyz Host, the large family house on the left corner. It's owned by a huge smiling cuddly bear of a Russian who lives in the outhouse with his family. He rents the main house to two young, friendly, slightly scatty, pretty girls: A Ukrainian and Kyrgyz. It's got 2 clean and bright dorms and a double room and an immaculate kitchen for the guests to use. It's a bit like living in a shared house. At $10 a night it's reasonable and it's easy to get to the centre of town, you just walk or bus back the way you came and keep going straight on until you hit Chuy Av and the main Post Office.
Not a lot to do in Bishkek. Fatboys, west on Chuy Av, does a good Baltika 7 on tap and great fried potato skins. Dragon's Den is a bit further out, west on Frunze street, does a reasonable pizza, and a few veggie dishes. There's also a German 'bierkeller' called Steinbrau in the south east of the city. It's a bit out in the suburban styx, but it has a large and lovely peaceful outdoor courtyard and many home brews, lager and ale: Probably the best pint in town, but more expensive too, maybe 100-150SOM.
Two things are a MUST if you're in Bishkek for a few days:
Something that you won't find in any tourist guides is to visit the arty home, or, 'museum of great emptiness' of philosopher and visionary artist Alexei Skreplov. It's not easy to find him in the southern suburbs; we went with the Kyrgyz girl from our guesthouse, and as impressed as we were, she said she would recommend it to all her guests from then on. Alexei doesn't ask for any payment, a ticket to get into his 'museum' is a tube of acrylic paint! This guy is a legend, there are few people in the world who are true originals and visionaries, but Alexei is one of them. It was an honour to enter his world! http://www.greatemptiness.net/
The other 'must do' is to go camping/trekking in the Ala-Archa Gorge. It's about 30km south of Bishkek, all slightly uphill (which means an easy return cycle). It's alpine, verdant and made for camping, but try and avoid sundays when car loads of Russians have their boozey Barbecues - see bottom pic!
