Kyrgyzstan the Mighty - Day 1
A taste of what’s to come.
We drove 200km out of the Bershkek to Kochkor, the town names reminding me of Star Wars, the landscape doing the same. Arid brown hills rise up as we edge closer to Kochkor, a town in the south east of the country, start point for our 7 day adventure.
Rain fell upon us for half an hour during the journey, unusual in summer, said our guide.
We stopped at a roadside restaurant for lunch. A mix of people inside, some indigenous Kyrgyz, Russians, Uzbeks, and travellers from further afield, like us. The food is cheap but it’s good, we queue up cafeteria-style and choose from the fare before us. For me it’s roast chicken, rice and a beet salad that is so sour it could likely strip paint - delicious!
Robert admiring the distant glaciers.
Robert, my recon partner from Perth, arrived at 6:30am this very morning and to be fair, after a shower in my room and a good breakfast, he looks none the worse for his 26 hour journey. Sat beside me in the restaurant, we can only chat about the trip ahead, neither of us doing anything to hide our excitement.
With us are Taala, our driver, Dmitry, our ground operator, and Alex, our on-bike guide. Taala is Kyrgyz, Alex and Dmitry both Russian.
Our van deserves a mention also, a Mercedes Sprinter. Jacked up about half a metre to deal with crossing rivers and dealing with gravel tracks, its shocks threw in the towel about a decade ago and it’s been repainted more than a few times, but she’ll do, she ‘feels’ KOJO!
Heck, we can only deal with what life throws at us, and she’s had a lot to endure…
Our guide Alexi secures the bikes.
We arrive on the outskirts of Kochkor at 2pm, passing mostly dusty beige single story buildings. It seems that 1990s Audi 400s are the car of choice here, somehow. I always loved these cars when I was a kid and it looks like those Germans really did build them to last. We roll into the compound of Mountain View Guesthouse, get changed and head out for a ride to open up the legs a little. As we head for the hills, children appear shouting hellos at us and several adults wave too. I felt in Bishkek a friendly vide and it seems it will continue out here too.
Spices at a local market.
We have to turn back after 15km, just as we were starting to get into a deep valley that leads to a lake, emerald green, Alex tells us. Adventure is calling to us, but, we have a dinner reservation at 6 that we need to go clean up for, so, more than a little reluctantly, we retreat.
There’s already a sense shared between us, I feel, that this is going to be a good trip. We hoot and holler as we fly down the 300m we climbed, zig-zagging and bunny hopping as we go.
Back at the guesthouse there’s a girl sat in a camping chair outside the rooms, and I ask in English what her name is.
“Bishek, my name is Bishek,” she says.
How old are you?
“I am 12.”
Your English is very good.
“Yes I know. Thank you.”
We meet Tuula and Dmitry and head for dinner, a modern looking place that has local cuisine and also pizza - we go for local, and it’s very good. Very well-cooked chicken (common here is seems), beef stew pots covered in cheese, hand-made dumplings in clear broth that look like tortellinis, and local draught beer to wash it all down.
As we walk back to the guesthouse, thousands of crows fill the inky blue sky. We look up in silence and we can hear their wings, hundreds of pairs of wings creating a feathered whisper.
Back at Mountain View, we chat a while longer sat on the camp chairs before retiring to sleep, as tomorrow waits for us.
