Today was a day of travel. I set out to Karakol bus station and found a seat in a Marshrutka to Bishkek. This bus seemed to take forever, around 6 hours in total.
Arriving back into Bishkek I had that warm feeling of returning somewhere that you know. No nasty surprises, no caution of being ripped off. Just stepping out into the fine city of Bishkek, walking like a local. Something you take for granted when you've been on the road for many weeks.
I walked back up to the Freelander Hostel, checked in for my final night in Bishkek in preparation for tomorrow's journey to Almaty, Kazakhstan.
Showing posts with label Issyk Kul. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Issyk Kul. Show all posts
Monday, 19 August 2019
Sunday, 18 August 2019
The 'Stans - Karakol (18 August 2019)
Having flicked through the hiking trails in the hostels guide book, I opt for one of the 'easy' trails for a few hours, considering I'm only here for the day and have no proper hiking stuff and barely any warm clothes. I'm also generally not a huge hiking fan.
Coffee in hand, I set out walking out of town straight towards the mountain in front of me, with just my airpods and hiking navigation app for company.
The sun was shining and my new water proof clothing, aka my plastic tracksuit, was now making me ridiculously sweaty. But onward I continued, Karakol growing smaller and smaller in the background.
The hike is fairly relaxed at this point and I only have a few older people for company who have also taken the easy option for this fine Sunday morning.
The roue of the hike was an almost U shaped, starting in Karakol, heading up the mountain and descending into another town a 20 minute bus rider away from Karakol.
On the way I took a major detour to find this huge herd of sheep being shepherded across the valley. I spent a good 10 minutes bah-ing at the sheep and getting a crescendo of bahs back.
At one point I managed to go complete off track and into shoulder height plants, with no physical way of making it back onto the hiking path for a good amount of time. I started to think that if I became lost, I had not told anyone where I was hiking, so it could very easily go wrong. But then I remember I was on the 'easy' trail and I couldn't possibly mess this up.
After a good four or five hours of walking, with probably not enough food and water to sustain me. The hiking path suddenly flattened out down onto the road. I read that I could catch a bus somewhere along this road so kept walking for another 45 minutes until I came across what looked like a bus stop. Next door was a small shop, never has a bottle of Fanta and a Snickers tasted so good.
Fare paid, I jumped onto the bus and appreciated the sit down. We slowly meandered back to Karakol and back to somewhat of civilisation.
Coffee in hand, I set out walking out of town straight towards the mountain in front of me, with just my airpods and hiking navigation app for company.
The sun was shining and my new water proof clothing, aka my plastic tracksuit, was now making me ridiculously sweaty. But onward I continued, Karakol growing smaller and smaller in the background.
The hike is fairly relaxed at this point and I only have a few older people for company who have also taken the easy option for this fine Sunday morning.
On the way I took a major detour to find this huge herd of sheep being shepherded across the valley. I spent a good 10 minutes bah-ing at the sheep and getting a crescendo of bahs back.
Fare paid, I jumped onto the bus and appreciated the sit down. We slowly meandered back to Karakol and back to somewhat of civilisation.
Saturday, 17 August 2019
The 'Stans - Bishkek to Karakol (17 August 2019)
Today was a day filled with travel, venturing from Bishkek to Karakol, a town near Issyk-Kul offering all manner of outdoor pursuits.
I took a cab to the Bishkek bus station and attempted to locate the marshrutka going to Karakol. I went to the ticket office and was motioned to the outside of the building, where there were dozens of marshrutkas. I walked around shouting Karakol, and would be pointed in one direction and then back in the other direction. After about 20 minutes, I found the bus.
I had timed this perfectly, only 3 seats remained. With marshrutkas, the bus will always wait until it is full. If you're the first person on board, you're guaranteed a long wait. I found a seat with ample leg room and made camp for the six hour journey to Karakol. The bus was full of local Kyrgyz people, I was the only traveller.
It was only a matter of minutes until the kid next to me had fallen asleep and started using my shoulder as a pillow. I gave him a gentle shoulder in the skull to wake him up, he looked annoyed. We repeated this game for a few cycles until he turned the other way.
Important contextual point for later; I had left my big bag in Bishkek as I would be travelling back the same way. Therefore, I had just the shorts i was wearing and a couple of t shirts - in the 40 degree Bishkek weather, you need little else.
After many hours driving along side Issyk-Kul, the second highest lake in the world behind Lake Titicaca (I've also been there!), passing settlement after settlement of abandoned Soviet holidays camps, we finally pulled into Karakol. Some six hours later. The weather had been getting greyer and wetter the closer we got.
I jumped out of the bus and instantly realised that I had made a grave mistake. It was freezing.
But that didn't matter too much, I would just head to the hostel and consider my options. Oh. The hostel was less of a hostel and was in fact scattered yurts in the open. The common area was akin to a garage, with no protection from the elements. I was cold and wet and had no way of heating up.
In urgent need to heating up, I head to a cafe called Lighthouse Coffee and Tea, and it was sublime. Warm and Dry. The food was limited so I ordered an extra hot Ramen. I'm not a huge fan of Ramen, but this was a game changer.
After warming up, I found out that the Karakol market was open until 17:00. It was currently 16:45, so I made a mad dash in the hope of finding warmer clothing. Nearly every store was closed apart from one Kyrgyz men's fashion stall. I was in no position to barter and must have looked desperate. I ended up buying a grey, plastic feel, tracksuit which was apparently an Adidas x Supreme special.
It was probably the best £20 I had ever spent. I was now warm and water proof. As it has been such an ordeal, I head to the nearest pub and have a well deserved pint on a table with a German couple. We didn't speak much, but they could tellI earned that beer.
I headed back the garage at the hostel to survey my yurt for the night. As a night cap, I met up with the Belgian chap whom I shared a five day car journey with. We discussed our different routes post-Tajik and agreed to meet up in Almaty, Kazakshtan.
I took a cab to the Bishkek bus station and attempted to locate the marshrutka going to Karakol. I went to the ticket office and was motioned to the outside of the building, where there were dozens of marshrutkas. I walked around shouting Karakol, and would be pointed in one direction and then back in the other direction. After about 20 minutes, I found the bus.
I had timed this perfectly, only 3 seats remained. With marshrutkas, the bus will always wait until it is full. If you're the first person on board, you're guaranteed a long wait. I found a seat with ample leg room and made camp for the six hour journey to Karakol. The bus was full of local Kyrgyz people, I was the only traveller.
It was only a matter of minutes until the kid next to me had fallen asleep and started using my shoulder as a pillow. I gave him a gentle shoulder in the skull to wake him up, he looked annoyed. We repeated this game for a few cycles until he turned the other way.
Important contextual point for later; I had left my big bag in Bishkek as I would be travelling back the same way. Therefore, I had just the shorts i was wearing and a couple of t shirts - in the 40 degree Bishkek weather, you need little else.
After many hours driving along side Issyk-Kul, the second highest lake in the world behind Lake Titicaca (I've also been there!), passing settlement after settlement of abandoned Soviet holidays camps, we finally pulled into Karakol. Some six hours later. The weather had been getting greyer and wetter the closer we got.
I jumped out of the bus and instantly realised that I had made a grave mistake. It was freezing.
But that didn't matter too much, I would just head to the hostel and consider my options. Oh. The hostel was less of a hostel and was in fact scattered yurts in the open. The common area was akin to a garage, with no protection from the elements. I was cold and wet and had no way of heating up.
In urgent need to heating up, I head to a cafe called Lighthouse Coffee and Tea, and it was sublime. Warm and Dry. The food was limited so I ordered an extra hot Ramen. I'm not a huge fan of Ramen, but this was a game changer.
After warming up, I found out that the Karakol market was open until 17:00. It was currently 16:45, so I made a mad dash in the hope of finding warmer clothing. Nearly every store was closed apart from one Kyrgyz men's fashion stall. I was in no position to barter and must have looked desperate. I ended up buying a grey, plastic feel, tracksuit which was apparently an Adidas x Supreme special.
It was probably the best £20 I had ever spent. I was now warm and water proof. As it has been such an ordeal, I head to the nearest pub and have a well deserved pint on a table with a German couple. We didn't speak much, but they could tellI earned that beer.
I headed back the garage at the hostel to survey my yurt for the night. As a night cap, I met up with the Belgian chap whom I shared a five day car journey with. We discussed our different routes post-Tajik and agreed to meet up in Almaty, Kazakshtan.
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