Ninety

Ninety
three per cent of Kyrgyzstan is covered by mountains.
Masses of sprawling, unspoiled, gloriously green mountains, some so
tall their peaks are frosted with ice and camouflaged beneath the
clouds. In the taxi en route to Bishkek, the country’s capital, I
realise I won’t have to travel far to catch sight of Kyrgyzstan’s
prominent mountainscape. As the sun rises over a watermelon-hued
horizon, I catch my first glimpse of those celestial peaks.

I first heard of Kyrgyzstan after reading an article in an
in-flight magazine. I was intrigued. What was it like to travel in
a country so exotic that its name features only consonants and
boasts a Scrabble value of 30? As it turns out, it’s brilliant. I
wanted an adventure, and Kyrgyzstan, with its salty horse meat and
proudly nomadic past, hit the spot.

Big city life

Bishkek is a curious city with broad streets, a handful of local
bazaars and a very Soviet-looking central square. It is fine, but
nothing to stick around for. Like most travellers, I use the
capital as a gateway to plan my next steps. After a night in a
basic guesthouse, I jump in a hire car and head off.

My first few days are spent getting my bearings. I do a couple
of easy hikes to Ala Archa National Park and Kol-Tor lake and,
almost daily, find myself caught in a very different kind of
traffic jam – one in which sluggish livestock block the roads,
utterly unphased by our impatient beeps.

A few days later I find myself in Kochkor – a small, sleepy
village at the foot of the Tian Shan mountains. It is here that I
spot my first fellow tourist – an American woman in her mid-sixties
wearing hiking boots and a Patagonia t-shirt. She has just returned
from a three-day horseback ride to Song Köl and is starry-eyed with
elation. Located in the northern Naryn Province, the alpine lake of
Song Köl lies at an altitude of 3,016m. Its glistening surface is
crystal clear. I plan to set off the following day, via the quaint
little village of Kyzart.

Mountain idyll

My guide for the horse trek is 13-year-old Beksultan. He has a
face like pudding and a steady, assuring smile. After some initial
trepidation – are they really going to let me on the back of this
horse? Do I really have a teenager as my guide? Do they know that
that mountain is actually pretty steep? – I gather myself and begin
the somewhat treacherous ascent.

The journey to Song Köl is just as striking as the lake itself.
We ride for hours each day, my bruised behind pressed uncomfortably
against the saddle. We are alone in the mountains, Beksultan and I.
Every so often we pass a yurt camp, but generally life is slow here
in the peaks of Kyrgyzstan. Local shepherds ride horseback in the
mid-June sun, while the grunts and groans of disgruntled cattle
ricochet into the peaks, swallowed into the surroundings.

Kyrgyzstan has a proudly nomadic heritage. Every year, shepherds
spend the summer months tending to their flocks, trotting towards
higher pastures and living in yurts along the way. There’s
something humbling about the nomadic lifestyle. I guess it has got
something to do with being able to live off the land, moving with
the flow of the seasons and having the skills to be able to provide
for yourself.

Three days, two yurts and a mug of fermented goat milk later and
we arrive at Song Köl. It’s every bit as beautiful as I imagined.
The snow-tipped peaks create a dramatic reflection on the lake,
which is clear and remarkably still. It’s peaceful until a grin
appears on Beksultan’s face.

“You want to swim?” he asks, pointing at the icy cold lake. I am
horrified. Then I remember that I haven’t bathed in three days.

Unspoiled and untamed

As we begin the long descent back to Kyzart, frozen and fragile,
I speak to Beksultan about his future. His greatest wish is to
travel to
France and study. He also wants me to add him on Instagram,
which I find remarkably ironic as we scale down the rocky cliff
face. A gentle reminder that the social media generation knows no
boundaries.

I wrap up my trip the only way I know how – with a cold beer on
the steps of my dilapidated Bishkek guesthouse. It’s been two
weeks, and between the horse farts, the drop-hole toilets and the
questionable “meat”, I’ve certainly found the adventure I was
craving. Kyrgyzstan is a land of intangible beauty, and now it’s
etched in my memory in a kinetic fusion of scenes. It’s a vast
alpine meadow, a smattering of stars, shepherd’s smile and a
child’s curious wave.

Getting around

Hire car: I opted for a hire car as I wanted
the freedom to be able to choose the route as I went along. Be
aware that you need an international driving license and should be
a confident driver – some of the roads are a little sketchy.

Tour guide: Booking a tour guide is one of the
easiest (and most expensive) ways of getting around the country.
You can book through Community Based Tourism (CBT
Kyrgyzstan) or at most hostels and hotels in Bishkek.

Shared taxis: Shared taxis are generally the
cheapest option and can be found in most major towns and villages.
Be sure to agree the fee in advance.

Fly: If you’d like to save some time, you can
fly between Bishkek and Batken, Kerben, Jalal-Abad and Osh.

Where to stay

CBT Kyrgyzstan: Thanks to a well-connected
community of homestays across the country, I had a bed to sleep in
each night and a basic breakfast almost every morning. If you’re
looking for luxury, you’ll have to look a little further in
Kyrgyzstan. Most nights I peed in a drop hole, and showers were few
and far between. CBT also provides local guides and a range of
high-value tours across the country.

TIP: If your trip takes you to Lake Issyk-Kul,
make a stop at Tong. Jurten Camp Almaluu is a beautiful,
sustainable yurt camp with cosy, fire-lit yurts and delicious
homemade food. It’s a stone’s throw from the lake and an easy place
to mingle with other travellers.

When to go

Kyrgyzstan’s climate follows the four seasons. While summer can
be scorching hot and reach up to 40°C in the cities, winter is icy
cold. Weather changes fast, so it is best to bring layers: even
summer can bring subzero temperatures up in the mountains. If you
are looking to hike and be outdoors, summer (specifically mid-

June

to late

August

) is the best time to travel.