Pamir Highway: Part One

The picturesque Tulpur-Kul in Kyrgyzstan.

We stayed in Osh for two nights before hitting the Pamir Highway with our new travel buddy, Kevin from Canada. 

Claire was still feeling unwell but she seemed to be on the improve, having had a few days of rest in Osh.

As soon as we had arrived at the hostel we had written a message on the white board in the courtyard seeking fellow travellers to share a car and the costs of travelling the Pamir Highway.

On our second day, I was hand washing our clothes in the Biy Ordo Hostel laundry when a guy came in and asked 'Are you Chelsea or Claire?'

This was Kevin. He was also wanting to do the route from Osh to Khorog in a 4WD and was looking for fellow travellers to cut costs. He had a proposed itinerary from Osh Guesthouse which included the Ishkashim Saturday market, which Claire was really keen to see. But to get there in time we would have to leave tomorrow. Eek! We didn't have a fourth person to split costs and the quote was US$1,107.85 for the car, driver (including food and board), fuel, and return fuel costs. We had received quotes from two other agencies which were cheaper, but they wanted us to go to Khorog in two days and we wanted a longer trip.

We decided to go with the proposed itinerary from Osh Guesthouse, hoping to pick up a fourth traveller in Murgab. That way, we could start our adventure as soon as possible rather than hang around Osh waiting.

Day One - Osh to Tulpur-Kul

We were picked up promptly at 6:30am by our lovely driver, Danier, and by the time we paid and loaded our gear in the car it was already 7am. A surprisingly smooth five hours later we had arrived at Tulpur-Kul, a lake at the base of Lenin Peak, which stands at 7,134m. The peak is a very popular climb for mountaineers and apparently one of the easiest 7000ers in the world.

There were two or three yurts by the lake and a couple of tents pitched. I spoke briefly to the campers, and they told us they had been there for a horse festival that had taken place at the lake the day before. We had been told that CBT were organising something but unfortunately hadn't made it in time. The campers said around 1,000 people attended and it was a real culture shock. The local horsemen played polo with a goat's head and the festival ended with a brawl. I don't think Claire was sad to have missed it.

Day Two - To Murgab via Sary Moghul

We rose early with beautiful morning views.

Then we headed to Sary Moghul for a quick look around town and to meet the locals.

Soon we were back on the road and heading towards the Tajikistan border. Other travellers had warned us that border officials may search our bags, phones and Kindles, so I diligently deleted everything off my devices that could have caused problems. Anything religious or political. I'm glad to say I didn't have any porn that needed deleting but if you're that way inclined, make sure it's all gone.

The Kyrgyz-Tajik border is a stunning border crossing. Unfortunately, I don't have any photos of it because the men with guns were making me a little nervous. Claire did manage to snap this photo just as we were entering Tajikistan, though.

I'm glad our driver was with us or else I would have been totally confused with showing our passports to several different people within such close distance to one another. And that was just to get out of Kyrgyzstan. Once they stamped our passports, we drove for about twenty minutes before reaching the Tajikistan border. Who owns that land in between? I have no idea.

To my surprise, getting into Tajikistan was just as smooth as leaving Kyrgyzstan. Again, we showed our passport to several different people in close proximity to one another. They stamped it and off we went. I deleted my controversial books for nothing!

The terrain from here to Murgab is incredibly different to Kyrgyzstan. It's rocky and desolate, just like a moonscape. Not at all green like Kyrgyzstan. The Chinese border was on our left for most of the drive. A tall fence with barbed wire sat next to the road blocking China's Pamir mountain range. At several points there were wide gaps in the fence, but I suppose the mountains provide more of a natural barrier than any fence could.

Murgab is the closest thing I've seen to a post-apocalyptic civilisation. The houses are white or mudbrick with low roofs, weak lighting and satellite dishes. As with so many of the houses in Tajikistan, though, while the outside may look stark and desolate, the insides are warm and inviting. Our guesthouse even had a western toilet.

Murgab

Unfortunately, we didn't find a third travel buddy in Murgab to share costs, but I'm glad it was just the three of us. We had to pay more, but we had more space in the car, and could be more flexible with our itinerary only having to please three people instead of four.

Day Three - Murgab to Alichur

Claire's sickness had persisted, so we took the opportunity while we were in a town to go to the doctor. I'm guessing the only doctor in town was at the hospital because our driver took us to the emergency department, which looked more like someone's lounge room. 

The medical resources looked a little dated... or like props from the TV show M.A.S.H.

The doctor finally arrived wearing a white coat, glasses and a moustache. The nurse relayed Claire's symptoms of vomiting and diarrhoea and the doctor wrote on a scrap piece of paper the name of some antibiotics.

The pharmacy was across the road, but we had to wait another thirty minutes for it to open. Claire bought her medication, we grabbed some food from the bazaar and then were back on the road.

The original plan for the day was to do a hike in the Pshart Valley, which looked pretty amazing. But the weather was looking a bit wet and the pass was around 4800m so we decided to give it a miss. Instead we drove through the impressive Kurteskei Valley, headed for the Shakhty petroglyphs.

It's a short but steep climb up the hill before spotting this ancient cave painting of a boar hunt.

I'm not that into history or archaeology, so I was far more impressed by the view of our tiny 4WD in the valley from the petroglyph cave.

From here it's a short drive to the Shor-Bulak observatory which doesn't appear to be in use anymore. But it was an interesting site to take a quick look at.

There was a bit of confusion at this point as we wanted to get back onto the highway by doing a loop, but the driver insisted we had to go back to the way we came because he didn't know the way forward. That was ok with me as the Kurteskei Valley was so beautiful I was happy to see it again.

Back on the highway we made a short detour to visit the little town of Bash Gumbaz where there is a Chinese tomb. Unfortunately, the bridge to get there had either been washed away, collapsed or never existed in the first place. Claire and I decided to stay behind and explore the town while Kevin went the remaining 3km on foot.

The town was set below large scree slopes in a treeless valley, and the mud brick houses had low ceilings and no shade.

Even though it looks barren, dry and not dissimilar to a moonscape, I loved it. The was something about the solitude and simplicity of the town that was beautiful.

Kevin returned after an hour and showed us pictures of the tomb which looked like a little mudbrick minaret. Very cute. The day was getting away from us so we pressed on.

After being back on the highway for 30 minutes or so our driver pulled over next to a large pond. We had no idea why we'd stopped. He threw a few bread crumbs into the irradescant blue water and soon a school of fish emerged.

After consulting the Lonely Planet I realised we were at Ak-Balyk, a holy pond and a fish restaurant disguised as a home. I was getting a bit peckish so we decided to splurge and order some fish.

It was heavily fried which isn't usually my preference but it tasted great.

Back on the road again after our next stop was Alichur, where we would be staying the night. There isn't much in Alichur but our driver took us to a lovely homestay that had a yurt in the back yard. It was a very windy night but Claire and I were keen to camp anyway. We had a look around and found some old ruins which offered good protection from the wind and pitched for the night.

The next day we planned to head to Langar, with four days on the Pamir still ahead of us, including the Wakhan Valley. I can hardly wait!

Three pieces of advice when going to the toilet

Outdoor squat toilet

A travel blog isn't complete without at least one post on toilet etiquette in your newly- travelled country. In Kyrgyzstan, nine times out of ten you will be using a squat toilet, unless you're in a restaurant catering to foreigners.

The problem with the squat toilet is that aim is soooo essential, and us chicks from the west have just never needed to acquire that skill. Never again will I judge a guy for missing his target. It ain't easy! 

The polite thing is, of course, to clean up if you miss your mark, which brings me to my next point. Never, ever, ever touch the floor or place anything on the floor of a squat toilet. In fact, I wouldn't even touch the walls. Who knows how bad some people aim?

This isn't restricted to number ones only. Some people miss with number twos as well! So when in that cubicle just keep your hands to yourself and away from the walls and floor.

Second piece of advice: that little bin next to the toilet roll (in the unlikely case there is toilet paper) is for your used toilet paper. Don't throw it down the toilet! The number of times I've gone to use the toilet only to find it blocked with toilet paper is aggravating. Putting your toilet paper in a bin is not as disgusting as I'd imagined it was going to be. Most people dispose the dirty side face down. Thank goodness!

Third piece of advice: make sure you always carry toilet paper, for three reasons. First reason: public toilets in Kyrgyzstan are  virtually nonexistent and you never know when you are going to need to ask a taxi or mashrutka driver to pull over so you can utilise the bushes. Second reason: even in restaurants or hotels, there is no guarantee the toilet will be stocked. Fifty per cent of the time there will be no toilet paper. It's like a government conspiracy. Or maybe aliens come and take it when you're not looking. I don't know,  but it's never there when you need it. And the third reason: when there is toilet paper, it's usually of the sandpaper variety.

Notice the toilet paper on the right compared to my purchased roll on the left. When you get the runs (which is frequent in Kyrgyzstan) I know which type I want to be using. It's still not great, but to get western toilet paper you have to buy eight rolls and it's expensive.

There are all types of toilet paper, but the best we've seen so far is the evil bunny roll.

I'm not sure what a rabbit or the numbers 666 have to do with toilet paper but I've stopped trying to make sense of a lot of what I see here. 

Walnut hunting in Arslanbob

This is an under-ripe walnut. The Arslanbob locals make jam out of the juvenile pod before the harvest season in September. But I'm getting ahead of myself....

After two overpriced taxi rides culminating in a ten hour journey from Bishkek, we finally made it to Arslanbob. The road was pretty sketchy, but the views were amazing. Especially alongside the river that runs into the Toktogul Reservoir. It's a beautiful turquoise colour with jaggered mountains popping out of the wide river.

Arslanbob is close to the Uzbek border and the majority of the town residents are Uzbek, and more conservative than the rest of Kyrgyzstan. Many of the men wear a skull cap made from felt, and the women wear headscarfs and long pants and a loose dress. I arrived in town wearing shorts, which caused some stares and yelling from slow moving vehicles such as 'Hello, where you from?' 

There are many homestays in Arslanbob and many with beautiful gardens.

And great food.

The only down side is getting woken up at 4am each morning by the azan, the call to prayer. Having it boom through our tent several times a day gets old pretty quick.

We were keen to organise a hike in the area and at first were looking at heading to the four Kol Mazar or 'holy' mountain lakes. After reading some blogs and talking to some tourists (who were hard to find, due to there being no hostel or central tourist hang-out in town) we realised a guide was a necessity, as the track was not well-travelled or marked.

The holy lakes were an intense four-day walk and a guide cost $40 AUS a day. We looked for other tourists who wanted to do the same walk to cut down on costs, but had no luck in finding potential hiking buddies.

While we were hanging our in the CBT office, in walked an Israeli couple we had previously met on the mashrutka from Kochkor to Bishkek. They were keen to do a three day walk through the walnut forest. 

Arslanbob is home to the largest walnut forest in the world. Walnut forests also have the bonus of being significantly flatter than hikes to certain holy lakes, which require the summiting of mountain passes, so we decided to go with the forest option and explore it with the Israelis. 

Unfortunately, disaster struck that evening when we received a call from CBT at our homestay, advising us that the Israelis were sick (they suspected it was the soft serve ice cream in town - stay away, people!)

The food sickness culprit!

Claire and I were left on our own. We decided to do the walk anyway but cut it down to two days instead of three to reduce costs.

Day One

We met out guide at 9am at CBT and took off on our adventure. As we meandered through town we bumped into the locals.

And headed up until we had a panoramic view of Arslanbob. 

Walnut trees are not the only thing that grow extensively in Arslanbob, but also apples, berries, pistachios and cherry plums. And they are different breeds to what we get in Australia. For example, this tinybapple had large, bright red pips, not the typical small, dark brown ours have.

After walking for two or three hours we stopped for lunch at a beautiful shaded spot with running water and a little shack.

I was expecting the forest to be set into neat rows like our orchards, but it's just like any other forest. Large beautiful trees all over the place in no particular order, all of different shapes and sizes. The roads wind and curve around different sections of land owned by different families.

We weaved our way around the trees before coming to rest for the night by a stream and a flat piece of land. Our guide grew up in Arslanbob and was very knowledgable about all the different fruits and trees. He also kept feeding us food from his picnic blanket, to which we didn't object.

Our guide showing us a juvenile walnut he picked from a tree and cracked open. 

Day Two

Disaster struck again, but this time on home soil. Claire woke up feeling unwell and began vomiting. She assured us that she felt better after packing the tent and so we went on our way. She is a tough cookie, but after about 45 minutes of trekking, her dinner once again made a reappearance. She had broken out in a fever and, despite the heat of the day, rugged herself up in her sleeping bag and passed out by the side of the road, rousing herself occasionally to empty the contents of her stomach.

After two hours, I figured she probably wasn't going to bounce back any time soon, so we organised a car to come and save us. Thank goodness we had a guide and phone reception. Unfortunately, Claire's colour had changed from white to green and so it was straight to bed once we got home. More vomiting and diarrhoea ensued. The next day was much of the same. I took the opportunity to check out the bazaar.

Arslanbob is known for its yoghurt balls and dried fruit leather.

The yoghurt balls were incredibly sour and reminded me of Warhead lollies we ate when we were kids. The fruit leather is like a Uncle Toby's Roll Ups, without all the added sugar.

They also sold the infamous kymys.

It's the white stuff in the coke bottles and is fermented mare's (or cow, or goat) milk. They sell it EVERYWHERE, most commonly in used soft drink bottles. It's on every mashrutka ride in various forms and Claire was unfortunate enough to have a 50 litre jerry can of it explode on her on the ride from Kochkor to Bishkek. The smell was not good! Unfortunately, it instigated a vomiting session from a little girl. Not the best mashrutka ride we've ever been on, but probably the most eventful thus far.

After a stroll through the outdoor market, it was time to visit a chaikhana. Arslanbob doesn't have restaurants as such, just these tea houses dotted around town that sell shazliks, samosas, manty (dumplings) and tea.

On my return to our home stay, Claire was still in a bad way. Our plan was to leave for Osh the following day, but that clearly wasn't going to happen. I'll keep you posted.

Ala-Archa Canyon

Bishkek is fortunate enough to have a world class mountaineering playground only 30kms from its city centre. Ala-Archa National Park contains more than 20 glaciers and over 50 jaggered peaks.

With the number of the correct marshrutka in mind, and our overnight packs decked out with supplies for the next few days, we swung by the Kazakhstan Embassy to collect our visas, before intending to jump on the marshrutka and head for the hills.

We had submitted our applications over two weeks ago and were told our visas would be ready the following Thursday. So it should be ready, right? 

Wrong.

It appears that while we were enjoying ourselves in Karakol, Kazakhstan's visa policy had changed and Australian passport holders no longer need a visa if their stay is less than 15 days. 

Even though we had applied for a 30 day visa, and already paid, the embassy decided to hold off on processing our visa! What the...?!?

I explained to the man behind the counter that we would be in the country for more than 15 days and so would require the 30 day visa for which we had originally applied and paid.

'Okay. It will be ready at 6pm tonight.'

What!?! We had our bags packed and were ready to hit the road for Ala-Archa. We couldn't hang around till 6pm.

I leaned over the counter towards the official and said with determination, 'We were told our visas would be ready last Thursday at 6pm. We are leaving Bishkek today. Can you process them before you close at 12pm?' 

It was 11am already, so I knew it was a big ask. The expressionless man behind the counter told us to wait one moment before going to speak to his colleague. Upon coming back he said, 'Alright, they will be ready at 12pm'. 

I smiled inside. We took our packs and waited outside. I had my doubts whether it would be ready on time and thought maybe he was just trying to placate us. At 11:45am Claire went back to the counter. 'Not ready' was the response as soon as she stepped in the door. 

At 11:55am, I sat in the foyer. I wasn't going to give them the opportunity to lock us out. Then exactly at 12pm I saw the man I spoke to exit through a back door. Noooo!  My hopes were dashed. It was supposed to be one of the easy visas and now we would have to miss out on Ala-Archa while we sat around in Bishkek another day. 

Just as I had lost hope a man came to the counter and said 'Australia?' He had our passports with a newly inserted Kazakh visa. Hooray! We stepped outside with much glee, double checked the visa dates were correct and headed for the 265 marshrutka which stopped virtually outside the embassy.

It was now early afternoom and the temperature was soaring above thirty degrees. The marshrutka ride was hot, cramped and full of oldies who I dont think appreciated us foreigners taking up their marshrutka space. Our packs were blocking the door and one old grandma, as she disembarked, picked up my pack with superhuman strength and threw it away from the door. I would have been pissed off, but I was too impressed by her ability to lift my pack one handed. 

The 265 marshrutka only goes all the way to the park entrance on weekends,  but we managed to convince the driver to take us all the way for 150 som each. Once at the gate, we bumped into an Indian guy who was also heading to the Alplager and managed to bargain a taxi for 300 som for the three of us. It seemed too cheap to me and the taxi driver displayed his dissatisfaction by speeding around the corners at full pelt. It took me a good 15 minutes for my stomach to find itself once I got out of the car. 

The Alplager is a tiny village with a hotel that looks like it belongs in the Swiss Alps...

After admiring the surroundings, which included a few necessary tourist yurts, we pulled out our trekking poles and began our ascent. When the Lonely Planet said it was a strenuous climb it wasn't kidding. Up and up and up. Very steep. At several points the track split and momentarily Claire and I lost one another but eventually met back up. I waited on a rock in the shade to avoid the stinking heat and took photos of the view.

Finally, after three hours of excruciating pain, we made it to a forrested area which had a few flat spots to pitch a tent.

It was just below the base of the waterfall which is half way to Ak-Sai Glacier, so we decided to leave all our gear here and do a day walk to Ratsek hut the following day, hoping no one would steal our stuff.

We woke up early to start our climb in ordsr to avoid the heat. It only took two hours to get to Ratsek hut and the glacier, thanks to not having our 15kg packs. It was steeper today than yesterday, but thankfully a lot of it was in shade due to the rocky outcrops.

Finally, we reached the quaint valley in which Ratsek hut sits. There was a trickling stream with half dozen tents near by.

There were no people around as it was a perfect day for climbing and hiking and most people were off exploring the glacier and summiting Mt Korona. Above the Ratsek hut is a narrow ridge which is accessible via a scree slope. Once on top, the glacier is in full view and looks a little something like this. 

We could hear voices echoing around the rocky crags above us and soon spotted five rock climbers on a precarious-looking piece of rock up very high. We saw another couple walking down from the glacier but besides that it was pretty deserted and not nearly as busy as we were expecting. 

After chilling on the ridge for about an hour...

... we made our way back down the incredibly steep and slippery slope.

Upon our return it was nice to see nothing had been stolen from our tent. In fact, we gained an addition to our campsite.

I'm guessing he's some kind of Kyrgyzstan squirrel?? Bye bye little friend. Back to Bishkek tomorrow for us. 

Lake Song-Kol horse trek

We arrived in the town of Kochkor around lunch time on Saturday, just missing out on seeing the animal market which runs throughout the morning. However, there was still plenty of live stock around town to keep us entertained.

Our plan was to do a three day horse trek to Lake Song-Kol. We headed straight for CBT (Community Based Tourism) to get details of the tour the run and a quote. Unfortunately, they were quite expensive compared to the others. Jailoo, another tour operator, was the cheapest but they didn't speak English. We went instead with Shepherd's Life, which had good reviews and a reasonable price. Three days with a guide, breakfast, dinner and transport cost us 13,200 som - roughly $330 AUS for two people. We were looking forwarded to not having to worry about the logistics for the next few days and just enjoying the ride. Literally.

Day One - Jumgal Village to Kilemche yurt stay.

We were picked up from our home-stay, Sharem 14, where we had pitched our tents for 200 som each the previous afternoon. 

We started the horse trek from a little village called Jumgal. It was an hour drive from Kochkor and 15 minutes into the journey I was busting for the loo. Public toilets in Kyrgyzstan are few and far between, but I tried my luck, 'are we going past a toilet?' I was given a blank stare and asked, 'you need toilet?'
'Yes', I replied. 
The car instantly pulled onto the gravel and I stared out the window at a few stunted bushes. I guess this is the Kyrgyzstan equivalent of a public toilet and I wasn't fussed.

Before long we were saddling up for our journey at Shepherd's Life.

Our guide, Jomart spoke good English and was only 17 years old. He told us he had started riding when he was four. Pretty common for the Kyrgyzs. 

We trekked through some beautiful countryside, had a lunch break and practiced our cantering before reaching our first yurt stay at Kilemche.

Running free!

View of the valley below from Kilemche yurt stay. 

Claire and Jomart enjoying a tea break in the yurt with home made bread dipped into various types of jam and butter.

We had a little nap in our new home and when we woke up many other tourists had arrived. A couple from France, a couple from Belgium and a group of three friends from Austria. Most travellers so far have been from Europe. We stayed in the same yurt as the French couple and our guide Jomart who slept-talked so loudly he woke us up both nights. Classic.

Day Two - Kilemche yurt stay to Batai-Aral yurt village.

Our bums and thighs were a little tender from the previous day, but we were excited to get back on our horses despite this. We headed up over the pass and the view from the top was amazing. It was a beautiful clear day giving us fine views of Lake Song-Kol.

Claire and Jomart heading up to the pass.

View of Lake Song-Kol from the top of the pass.

After a long tea break in a yurt closer to the lake we rode with lake views for two hours before coming to Batai-Aral a yurt camp.

Sunset over the yurt camp.

Day Three - Batai-Aral yurt village to Kochkor

Jomart took the horses back to Jumgal this morning while I napped in the yurt and Claire played with a local dog. After sleeping in the tent for two weeks the beds felt so soft! I took advantage of thid and slept a lot of the morning while waiting for our transport to arrive.

The drive back to Kochkor was steep, rocky and windy, to which this picture will attest. It was a nice car, but unfortunately had no air con, and the driver had a CD of patriotic-sounding songs in Kyrgyz on repeat for the whole trip. The CD kept skipping every time we went over a bump, and one of the songs got stuck in Claire's head, so she kept serenading my with it all afternoon. Thanks, driver!