16.07.2009: phase one complete
So, Kyrgyzstan. We were mainly here to see Issyk-Kül, an enormous lake (the fourth largest in Asia) which is widely considered to be the #1 Beauty Spot in the 'stans. Its reputation comes partly from Issyk-Kül's amazing location: to the north of the lake lies a gently sloping and picturesque mountain range that leads towards the Kazakh border, while on the opposite shore the border with China is marked by the Tian Shen – i.e. by the northernmost range of the Himalayas. I’d seen photos of this area, and been suitably blown away by images of people lying on sunny beaches while lushly-forested Alpine peaks towered majestically in the background. And I'd also been told by plenty of folk in Almaty that it was pretty much essential to go there.
Unfortunately I can't really say much about Issyk-Kül, because here's how I experienced it: one mildly pleasant morning of walking around on the beach, followed by an afternoon of torrential rain, followed by two days of lying in bed going "Urrrrrgggghhh!!!" after eating something extremely upsetting for my stomach. While my father and uncle had great fun exploring the mountains and meeting friendly Central Asian folk, I spent most of my time making sure that I was never more than 10 metres from the nearest toilet.
But hey, that's always the risk you take when you visit a foreign country. It even happened to me in New Zealand – different 'bugs', I guess. I think you have to factor in this possibility when you travel, and just accept it when it happens. Still, if I could turn back the clock, I know I wouldn’t eat that shawarma again!
Two things I will say, though. The first one is mainly for people in Almaty, 'cause everyone there asks “Have you been to Issyk-Kül?” and “What did you think?” So … er, look, quite frankly the lake itself is just a lake. Sorry, but it’s a lot of water in one place; that’s all. There are no interesting features like islands or whatever, so it looks more or less the same at every point (and it’s about 120km long). From ground level you can’t even see the opposite shoreline. So it’s a big, blue, wet thing with changeable weather. И все.
On the other hand, when you go away from the lake and it becomes part of the wider view, things get a whole lot better. Just before I got ill, I went to the Garden of Petroglyphs above the town of Cholpon-Ata, and the scenery there was spectacular. I could've wandered around up there for many hours, just enjoying the mountains and the boulders and the wild berry-laden shrubs and so on (and trying not to step on any scarab beetles). It was like a scene from Walking with Dinosaurs ... except without, y'know, the actual dinosaurs. (So it was like a scene from Walking with Nothing Much Around, then? Hmmm. Not one of your best analogies, Mr. Word Nerd!)
I also had another “Man Of The ‘Stans” moment in Issyk-Kül, which I enjoyed very much. The taxi driver who took us to the petroglyphs was a Russian guy called Sasha, who’d trained as an ornithologist in St. Petersburg during Soviet times, then journeyed down through Russia and Central Asia to research the local winged populations. He’d finally settled in Kyrgyzstan some time in the 1980s. Unfortunately, Kyrgyzstan is like any other country in that ornithologists don’t tend to make a fortune there (so unfair!), so now he conducts guided tours for a living. But in his free time, he’s still out there in the mountains, faithfully observing and recording the Kyrgyz birdlife - ‘cause that’s the kind of thing you might do if you’re a true Man of The ‘Stans. Koroche: Sasha was awesome. Men like him are rapidly becoming my heroes.
Anyway, Issyk-Kül basically concluded ‘Phase One’ of my epic summer. Phase Two is going to begin and end in my adopted home town of Almaty, and it promises to be pretty damn intense.
More about that in the next entry. Пока!
(** Russian for "bye!". It's pronounced like "pa-KAH".)