There's no excuse this time, dear reader, for the absence of recent blog updates, except for shenanigans on my part. So I'm making a vow to finish the story of my summer travels, update you on the work sitch, and write a bit about my recent adventure in Europe, all this week. I swear! For real! So fasten your seat belt, dear reader, this time I mean business.
The Epic Travel Adventures of One Peace Corps Volunteer in the Summer of 2011
(or What I've Been Doing For The Last Month) – PART 2
So like I said, my traveling companion and I rise bright and early and head to the oasis that is “Fatboys” for some pre-travel sustenance. Now “Fatboys” is a place of pure magic and wonder on the main drag in Bishkek. It was about a 35 minute walk from our hostel, but the 35 minutes were well worth it. Our trusty Lonely Planet travel guide describes it as: “A prime foreigners' hang-out, especially at breakfast with fresh juices, fruit teas, hash browns, bacon, eggs, yogurt, muesli and pancakes. If only the staff weren't so morose.” Morose wait staff or not, American breakfast was a welcome treat after 9 months of the sub-par morning meal that Kazakhstanis throw together. We basked in the glory of iced coffees and cheap hashbrowns and browsed the Lonely Planet for tourist companies offering horse treks to Song-Kul, a sacred lake high in the Tien Shan Mountains. We finished breakfast, and headed the bus station to find transportation to Kochkor.
As luck would have it, just as we arrived at the bus station a marshrutka (mini-bus) with two spots left was departing for the Kochkor region. We shoved our hiking packs into the back, squished into seats among grandmothers toting bags of goods from the bazaar and men in track suits, and set off southwards. After a 4-hour ride through beautiful dusty mountains we arrived in Kochkor, population: not many . We hauled our packs out of the marshrutka, watched it drive away, and looked around, not quite sure what to do next. By this time it had started raining and the streets were quickly emptying as the usual loiterers around the town square headed to their cars or cafes to escape the rain. As we dug around in our bags to try to find our trusty Lonely Planet which would surely lead us to the warm and welcoming arms of the CBT – Community Based Tourism – agency's office. As we struggled with our luggage and the rain, an ancient Kyrgyz man in a tradition felt hat sidled up, eyed our luggage, and hoarsely mumbled “CBT?”. We nodded. Apparently accustomed to dealing with wayward, white travelers, he directed us further down the road, and went on his way. We found our way to the CBT office to discuss trek options with the CBT coordinators and find a place to stay for the night.
We arranged to do a 3-day “Jailoo-Hopping” horse trek (more on this later) that would begin the next day. We shelled out some American dollars, as there was no credit card machine and the nearest ATM was an hour away, and made arrangements to spend the night with a local family. Community Based Tourism is a great organization that works throughout Kyrgyzstan to employ local families in the tourism industry. They find local families to host travelers, supply horses, share their yurts, and act as trek guides. They made all of the arrangements for our trek, and we couldn't have been any more pleased with our choice in travel company.
Map in hand, we trudged along the muddy unpaved roads to our host's house to unload our packs and find some dinner. We were hosted by a wonderfully happy Kyrgyz woman, her mid-20s daughter, and 1-year-old grandson. The daughter spoke minimal Russian, but most of our communication with our host was through gestures and miming. Our room was neat, comfortable, and warm, and at $8 a night it was just perfect. We headed out to find dinner – fried lagman and local beer – before turning in. The driver would be by at 9am the next morning to take us to the mountain pass that would serve as the starting point of our trek.
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