A sketch of a Muscovite who visited Kyrgyzstan for the first time.
“I don’t want to go back to Turkey! My whining elicited a strange twitch from my beloved boyfriend’s jaw. He was almost ready to accept that I would go on vacation to Kyrgyzstan. Alone. To a friend. Finally.
Phew, it seems we’ve landed. Despite the quite comfortable seat of the Boeing, the plane shook as if we were dodging anti-aircraft fire. Passengers on the Moscow-Bishkek flight erupted into applause. After the bumpy ride, the pilots received exactly the same number of decibels as one usually hears at a “Jupiter” concert. For many of my companions, this was not just a flight, but a long-awaited opportunity to see their loved ones.
Just a little more, just a bit more…
There was a line at customs. Clutching a maroon booklet with my most unfortunate photograph – you can travel to Kyrgyzstan with an internal passport – I approached the inspection window. “Welcome,” smiled the airport employee at me with sincerity, more so than his Moscow colleagues, as we parted. “Yiiihaaa!” squealed my Lenochka.
I stepped onto Kyrgyz soil for the first time in my life. I need to make a wish: a dress! And shoes, and a bag, and… a remedy for greed. Not far from Bishkek, the capital of Kyrgyzstan, lies the “Dordoy” market — a hundred hectares of cheap clothing and footwear! This is my chance! Every self-respecting tourist must update their wardrobe there. But I’ll probably write about that in a separate piece.
Bishkek greeted me with whimsical flowerbeds of petunias and roses and the thick, stuffy air. The first thing I did was head to the store – I needed to replenish my food supplies. So, it turns out, Bishkek prices are significantly lower than Moscow’s: my favorite chicken breasts, for example, cost 200 rubles compared to 230 at the supermarket near my home. And a kilogram of melon… 21 rubles! Back home, it costs 90 rubles. However, prices for cosmetics and household chemicals, despite the fact that these goods are almost entirely imported from Russia, are practically the same.
However, the inexpensive but cozy room that Lenochka kindly provided me for a couple of days was not my final destination.
I longed to get to Cholpon-Ata. For reference, Cholpon-Ata is the capital of the resort life in Kyrgyzstan, a city located on the northern shore of Lake Issyk-Kul, with a population of 10,000 people. Getting there would be no trouble.
Every day at 6 AM local time, a train departs from Bishkek to Balakchy. The fare is purely symbolic: 70 soms for adults — just over a dollar and 40 soms for children. The journey will take five hours. Locals assure me — it’s worth it: the tracks are laid along mountain slopes, and the view from the window is fantastic.
The prospect of getting up before dawn to catch the train did not appeal to me. And Lenochka flatly refused to travel five hours in a stuffy carriage. I chose the most familiar mode of transportation for locals to the coveted lake — road transport. There’s plenty to choose from — taxis (the driver will charge about 50 dollars) and minibuses. I chose the latter option for its affordability — just 10 dollars. So, off we go!
Time to hit the road!
The view of nature from the window of the overcrowded minibus is truly picturesque — when entering the Boom Gorge, you want to scream and hide in some safe place: to the left is a steep cliff, at the bottom of which the Chu River bubbles with an endless flow, to the right — sheer mountain slopes. And I’m afraid of heights. It turns out… The road sign “Caution, rockfall!” does not add any optimism. However, for photographers, who usually do not suffer from phobias, this is a find.
Next to me sat a man in a cap of the leader of the world proletariat. I immediately dubbed him Lenin. “Do you often go to Issyk-Kul?” I decided to start a conversation instead of imagining how rescuers would pull my injured body from the river. “In the past, every resident of Bishkek used to go on vacation almost once a week. Now, if we’re lucky, we might go once in the summer. It’s expensive,” my companion lamented. It turned out he used to work as a guide.
From my conversation with him, I understood that the active boom in the construction of boarding houses and recreation centers began in the early 2000s. In just one year, the number of places for vacationers doubled. Now there are about 150 along the entire coast. Many of them are owned by citizens of Kazakhstan. Over the past four years, the number of vacationers from Kazakhstan has tripled. Due to the high purchasing power of guests from Kazakhstan, local businessmen are raising prices so much that local tourists can no longer afford such vacations. The average salary in the capital is about 250 dollars.
“You see, the entire Issyk-Kul lives off the summer months. People have nowhere to work in winter, so it’s clear they will charge tourists. They can afford to pay,” the Leader candidly shared.
To the rhythmic sound of the engine, the passengers, accustomed to the surrounding beauty, began to doze off one by one. The sleep was interrupted by a child’s shout: “Hooray! Issyk-Kul!”. Indeed, to the right of the highway, a thin strip of the lake shimmered. Sheer cliffs gradually gave way to gray hills, and soon the landscape began to resemble a steppe surrounded by mountains and a lake. Thus, we reached the Issyk-Kul Valley.
How much is a bed these days? With a TV, refrigerator, and shower…
I had to roll my suitcase over the cobblestones to my room myself: I didn’t see any helpful concierge ready to assist us with our bags within my line of sight. I had taken care of my accommodation in advance and booked a room in a mid-range hotel.
The price range for rental housing here is huge. If you don’t have the money or desire to take a shower every day, you can settle for 3 dollars a day. If you choose the “super-mega-economy” option, be prepared for the toilet to be in the yard and a half-hour walk to the beach. If your love for comfort outweighs your desire to save, welcome to guest houses. For 25-30 dollars a day, you will get a quite nice room with freshly laid plaster under “egg” wallpaper, a refrigerator, a TV, and a bathroom. By the way, that’s the option I chose.
If your budget allows for a “splurge,” you can rent a room for 150-200 dollars a day. However, when choosing a hotel with “bitey” prices, don’t trust the advertising brochures too much: Kyrgyz people have learned to take competitive photographs masterfully. Instead of luxurious apartments “in ethnic style with a stunning view of the lake surface,” you might get a room saying “hello, Soviet past!”
Bags carelessly tossed on the bed — I can unpack later. The suitcase, having expelled an immeasurable number of sweaters, jeans, and even one evening dress — you never know what you might need, found its resting place in the corner of a rather fresh room. The traveler’s tracksuit was quickly replaced by a T-shirt and shorts — it was time to refuel!
Of course, you can pay for meals at the boarding house. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner will cost 11 dollars. For a small amount, a fairly decent menu was offered — typical dishes from the canteens of central Russia. But I wanted to immerse myself in the local reality.
About Beshbarmak and Kolya’s dad
Have you ever had lunch in a yurt? From the inside, it seems huge: everything can really fit in there! Long flat mats, stuffed with sheep wool or cotton, are spread out on the floor. On the outside, they are embroidered with velvet — locals call them “toshoks.” So, you have to sit on this masterpiece of local craftsmanship — there were no chairs in sight. By the way, despite the midday heat and the absence of air conditioning, it was quite cool in the yurt. As Lenochka explained to me, the air currents move in a special way there.
The menu is not overflowing with options: manti, shashlik, samsa, lagman, and the previously unknown to me beshbarmak. “What is this made of?” The waitress, with a slight accent, began to recite in a rehearsed tone that it is homemade noodles with boiled lamb and onions. The dish translates as “five fingers.” And it must be eaten exclusively with hands. However, to avoid completely delving into traditions, they promised to bring me a fork. A portion of beshbarmak costs 5 dollars.
Anticipating Asian spaghetti, I was very surprised when I discovered pieces of dough sprinkled with fine shavings of meat, fat, and onions in my plate. After trying the nomads’ dish, I realized that I wouldn’t get along with Asian cuisine — it was too greasy.
“Kolya, you’re going to get it on the backside now!” — at the neighboring table (if you can call a piece of furniture with extremely short legs that) sat a family of four. From their severely sunburned faces, two conclusions could be drawn: first, they were Russian Russians — local Russians somehow learned to get a more elegant tan. Secondly, they had been vacationing here for several days.
“Is this your first time here?” — I asked Kolya’s plump dad. From the interested look of the family head, I understood that he was eager to share his impressions with someone.
“I brought the kids here. I was here back in the USSR days. It’s nice here,” the man said dreamily. “Before, everyone went to Turkey. Now, because of these sanctions, Kemer is only available in pictures…”
From our conversation, I learned that there are many Russians like him: the devaluation of the ruble has forced Russians to look for new, more budget-friendly vacation spots than the usual Turkey and Egypt. A week in Turkey (the cheapest option) can be had for about 40,000 rubles. Flights to Bishkek and back will cost 10,000. After that, depending on needs. Renting accommodation and food for 7 days will average 12,000 rubles. For families with children, this difference is quite significant. However, the man admitted that Issyk-Kul attracts him more. As they say, if it weren’t for happiness…
5-year-old Kolya still buried a toy soldier in the pilaf.
Why I wanted to condemn a person
The smell of pine is everywhere. In Kyrgyzstan, huge fir trees grow everywhere. Even blue ones. Spreading, fluffy. And I’m walking towards the beach. In my hands is a copy of Remarque. For some reason, it seemed to me that in the surroundings of the lake, sand, and mountains, the misadventures of soldier Paul in World War I would be a hit.
First, about the lake — it is enormous. If it weren’t for the outlines of the mountains rising from the opposite shore, one might think that I was facing a sea-ocean.
The ubiquitous Wikipedia states that Issyk-Kul is among the 25 largest lakes in the world by area and ranks sixth in the list of the deepest. It is located between the ridges of the Northern Tien Shan at an altitude of 1,609 m above sea level.
Settling down next to two Kyrgyz women in “triangle” swimsuits who were engrossed in selfies, I firmly resolved to plunge into the enticing coolness. Note that I said “coolness,” not “icy hell.” The water was too cold even for my body, which had been hardened by sitting under an air conditioner. “You dive in, you’ll get used to it,” shouted a wet and happy uncle, cheerfully swimming nearby.
“If he splashes me, I’ll condemn him,” flashed through my mind. The plans for revenge were not destined to come to fruition. A few minutes later, my body acclimated, and I sympathetically watched other unfortunate souls trying to overcome the threshold between “oh god, how cold” and “ah, the water is like fresh milk.” This is magical water. After swimming to my heart’s content, I faced another problem — I didn’t want to get out of it.
On the fourth day of doing nothing, my adventure-seeking nature pushed me to explore. I stepped outside the boarding house. I didn’t encounter the aggressive crowds of local thugs that I had been so frightened of.
Evening fell. I followed the call of music. The eternally young voice of Yuri Shatunov sang about white roses. Under the awning, it was impossible to squeeze through. Ladies dressed in “all the best at once” danced to the hit, while cheerful baykeshki (the local term for men in their prime) cackled over something.
“Girl, come to us! We’re having a good time! Why sit alone?” – the man in a bright light pink shirt apparently didn’t mean to hit on me. Just a lover of big companies: “Come on, order shashlik, pilaf. From Moscow? Oh, I’ve been there! Well, let us feed you, don’t be shy!”
The lady to his right, who apparently was the cheerful man’s lawful wife, hissed quietly with irritation:
— Of course, go ahead, treat everyone. By September, Aybek will pack himself off to school.
— Oh, come on, we live only once, we need to know how to relax too. We’ll earn more! Girl, order!
Mysterious she is, the Kyrgyz soul. And kind
The driver of the minibus unceremoniously shoved my suitcase into the trunk. A week flew by unnoticed. My nose got unpleasantly sunburned, and my hands were bitten by the merciless local fauna. But I am finally at peace. Well, hello, Remarque! Goodbye, Issyk-Kul!”
Source: Walkerstory
