Touchdown: Almaty

Plane journeys in Central Asia are always sociable affairs: perhaps it is the fear of impending doom that draws the passengers together. That said, today's flight was, from a safety perspective at least, unremarkable. No one (not even the airhostesses) was smoking in the toilets and, as far as I could see and hear, no part of the plane fell off and on to the runway during takeoff. I would like to say this is indicative of the regional airlines' progress in matters of safety and customer service but, sadly, that would be an exaggeration. Air Astana remains the only Central Asian airline with a sufficient safety record to be allowed to fly in European airspace, and this monopoly is unlikely to be broken anytime soon.
I have travelled to Kazakhstan many times over the last few years but, bar one too-brief visit, I'm yet to explore the nation's economic and cultural capital as I would like. The city is, more often than not, imply somewhere to change planes en-route to somewhere more remote; such hasty visits cannot do it justice.
What strikes you first about Almaty is its superb location. Soaring, snow-capped peaks hold the city in their embrace; even as I write in late August the snow and ice continue to glisten, sparkling in the warm, bright sunshine.
Situated on the historic Silk Road, close to the borders of modern-day China, Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan, Almaty is inevitably a cultural melting pot and a trading and transport hub. Whilst the USSR held sway across the region, Almaty was the perfect site for a regional capital and thrived; after independence, however, proximity to other countries (especially China) was feared to be a double-edged sword and the government shifted north to the new city of Astana.
The political exodus has, fortunately, done little to harm Almaty's vibrancy. Many companies, embassies and educational institutions continue to have their headquarters there, and the temperate climate makes it a more pleasant place to live and work.

Sustainable tourism in C. Asia

If you are unable to pick out Kyrgyzstan on a map, do not fear: you are not alone. With a population of little over 5 million, this Soviet Union successor state sits quietly nestled between China, Tajikistan, Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan and, with the exception of its charmingly named ‘Tulip Revolution’ in 2005, has barely made a mark on the western media. The country is largely rural and, until recently, tourists to the region have generally bypassed Kyrgyzstan in favour of package tours to the great Silk Road cities of Khiva, Bukhara and Samarkhand in neighbouring Uzbekistan. Kyrgyzstan cannot compete for architectural splendour, but is slowly fighting back, giving foreigners the opportunity to share in its stunning natural environment and nomadic culture through living, socialising and travelling with the people of Kyrgyzstan. Through this community-based approach, Kyrgyzstan has begun to make its mark as the world leader in sustainable tourism.

The largest ethnic group in Kyrgyzstan are the Kyrgyz, a Turkic people that make up around 70% of the population. They are traditionally semi-nomadic herders, living in yurts (felt and animal skin tents built around a wooden frame) in the mountain pastures during the summer and then bringing down their sheep, yaks and horses to escape the snows at the end of September. When the yurts are in the summer pastures, you can travel from one to the next, staying with local families and using their horses. The Community Based Tourism organisation (CBT) has a network of local guides across the country to help you find your chosen homestay in the seemingly endless mountains, take you trekking and show you the very heart of Kyrgyzstan. They are not professionals in the tourism industry but usually farmers and herders in neighbouring areas, sharing their personal experience without any of the crass commercialism of tour buses, action-packed itineraries and the rest of the West crammed in beside you.

The highlights of Kyrgyzstan have to be the lakes of Issyk-Kul and Karakol, surrounded on all sides by the soaring peaks of the Ala-Too Mountains. Despite its elevation, Issyk-Kul never freezes; it is heated from below by volcanic activity. The warm water has enabled a number of sanatoria with thermal springs and mud baths to develop on the northern shore, but the real attraction in both areas undoubtedly remains the natural landscape. Whether you explore it by horse or on foot with a guide and porters, it is easy to see why this part of the world was so little known until the arrival of Russian explorers partaking in the Great Game.

Kyrgyzstan’s greatest draw is that in a world where the greatest sites are so often spoiled by the presence of too many people, well meaning or otherwise, you can still leave the capital, Bishkek, and enter into a natural environment of awe-inspiring proportions that is still completely untouched by mankind. The few people you encounter, with their temporary shelters, mobile flocks and four-legged transport leave no mark on the landscape when they move on, and so if the country’s tourists were to be any different, it would be nothing but destructive. Kyrgyzstan has, it seems, got the balance right, bringing in much needed tourist dollars and projecting an overwhelmingly positive image to the international community without falling for model of tourism that blights so many other developing countries.

Into the Unknown: Canoeing in Kyrgyzstan

If you can’t yet identify Kyrgyzstan on a map, you’ll be forgiven. This tiny, mountainous Central Asian state, formerly part of the USSR, is home to just 5 million people and, unlike her more famous neighbors, is home to neither significant oil reserves nor large numbers of militants. However, if you take your kayaking seriously, it’s time to get better acquainted: 9500 miles of alpine rivers (classes 2-5+) and the world’s 2^nd largest mountain lake are awaiting your arrival. Best of all, until the secret gets out you’ll almost certainly have the water to your self.

There undoubtedly as many kayaking routes as there are rivers (40,000 by some accounts!) but 2 in particular spring to mind, each showing off a different aspect of this wildly beautiful country. The first is a 2-3 day, 35 mile journey along the Chom-Kemin River and begins some 8070 ft above sea level in a small gorge where a tributary known as Djindy-Su joins the main river. 93% of Kyrgyzstan is covered by mountains from the Tien Shah and Pamir ranges, and the drive up to the put-in is breath-taking. You must, however, take into account the time of year as snowfall and ice prevent canoeing in winter and glacier melt water swells the river in early summer. The best time, therefore, is to take a trip in August or September.

On joining the river, your first encounter is with a class 4 rapid where the two rivers meet. There’s nothing quite like baptism by fire. However, having braved the rapid you’ve now got a chance to catch your breath as the two miles that follow are mostly calm. While you have the opportunity, take in the sight of the pine forested slopes and the total absence of mankind; occasional sheep and goats will be your only companions.

A bridge now passes over the river, signaling it is time to prepare for the next two sets of rapids. Each short stretch is class 3-4 and they’re little over a mile apart. Visibility is fairly good, so you shouldn’t need to scout the bank in advance and the village of Buzulgansai, right next to the second set of rapids, offers a chance to get out and stretch your legs should you need it.

A little over two miles past Buzulgansai, the river enters the next gorge and one of the more challenging stretches of the river. The gorge itself is 3 miles long and the first part contains two rapids, each 1300-1500ft. The first is class 4+ and the second class 5. You will need to scout the right bank for this stretch and, once the water is calm again, prepare yourself for the 2 miles of class 4 rapids that take you all the way to the end of the gorge.

Between this gorge and the next you have 3-4 miles of flat river. The parallel road begins to climb to the right of a hill while the river snakes through to the left, entering the next gorge through little more than a crack. ½ a mile of class 5 rapid greets you on the other side and it gets noticeably harder before easing into class 4 for a further ½ mile and then flattening out as the gorge ends.

The final gorge is just under 2 miles down river. It contains one last class 4 section before the valley opens out and villages are scattered across the horizon. Most kayakers leave the river at this point as the whitewater excitement is over but if you have the time to appreciate the scenery, carry on down river to Ashu, where civilization, proper beds and a newly-built sauna await tired limbs.

For a complete contrast and rather more sedate paddling, take a trip instead to Lake Issyk-Kul, the jewel in Kyrgyzstan’s crown. The saline Issyk-Kul, second in size only to the Caspian Sea, is 430 miles in circumference and an incredible 3700 ft deep. Despite being more than 5200 ft above sea level, Issyk-Kul never freezes: it is heated from below by low-level volcanic activity. An 8-day trip will enable you to see almost all the lake has to offer – from Soviet sanatoria to wildlife and 2500 year old archaeological sites – but there are also a number of lake-side hotels offering kayaks to rent by the day.

Issyk-Kul is the one place in Kyrgyzstan that has significantly developed its Kyrgyzstan infrastructure so although you can take off on your own, it’s just as easy to rent a boat to follow your round and carry your belongings. The most popular route around the lake begins and ends on the pier at Prjevalsk bay at takes in the major coastal bays and towns as well as offering extended stretches of deep water kayaking. Although the lake itself has no white water, some 117 rivers and streams lead into the lake, providing ample opportunity for day-long excursions.

Getting to Kyrgyzstan is the first part of the challenge as there are no direct flights from the US or UK; services usually route via Moscow, Almaty (Kazakhstan) or Istanbul. A tourist visa can now be purchased on arrival, however, which is a real treat after the excessive red tape of neighboring states. Any international flight will come into Manas, the airport shared with the US army, on the outskirts of Kyrgyzstan’s capital, Bishkek, and it’s just a short drive to the city centre. If you have a command of basic Russian it will certainly help you to get around but if not, don’t fear: there are a number of English-speaking tourism agencies who can assist you with transport and basic accommodation as well as provide experienced guides. Avantour (www.avantour.com/kyrgyzstan) and Celestial Mountains (www.celestial.com.kg) are the most reliable and, although based in Bishkek, have a good network of guides, drivers and accommodation options across the country. The Canoe Kayak Federation of Kyrgyzstan (email canoe.kg@rambler.ru) can provide up to date information on organized trips, as can the team at Kayak USSR (www.kayakussr.com). The most recently updated (and comprehensive) travel guide to Kyrgyzstan, which includes sections on canoeing and rafting, is Kyrgyz Republic, published by Odyssey Illustrated Guides in July 2008. Sit down, have a read, have a look and prepare to go to the back of beyond in pursuit of the remotest, highest, visually stunning and physically challenging paddling to be found.

Bed Sharing in Song Kol

Hand on heart, I can honestly say that I have never before awoken in bed with five men. Neither had I nose-dived into a ditch so violently that the windscreen fell fully out of the car, nor filtered my morning tea through my teeth to keep the bits out. Kyrgyzstan was always going to be something out of the ordinary. 

Until forced settlement at the hands of Soviet Russia, the Kyrgyz people were nomads. In the twenty years since independence, a number of people have returned to the land, and a special few are willing to share their life with visitors. Two hours from the main road and equipped with neither running water nor electricity, the yurts (felt and animal skin tents) of the Kyrgyz nomads can hardly be described as 5* accommodation, but  a single night provides you with more insight into Kyrgyzstan’s history and culture than could be gained from a year in the capital, Bishkek. 

Yurt stays are organised by Community Based Tourism (CBT), a co-operative organisation which puts tourists in touch with local people. We booked our yurt by calling into the CBT office in Karakol and drove on with three backpackers in tow: public transport is decidedly erratic. We drove up into the mountains, heading for Lake Song Kol, where dinner, our yurt and nomadic family awaited us. The sunset dancing across the surface of the lake turned to inky darkness, and a thousand stars burst out brilliantly overhead.

Having spent ¾ of an hour driving aimlessly in the dark, completely unable to find a turn-off to our yurt, a elderly man driving a rusty Lada took pity on us and offered to show the way. Out of politeness I squashed into the passenger seat, forgetting for an instant the Kyrgyz penchants for drink driving. I wasn’t to forget for long. The Lada hurtled along like a thing possessed, bouncing across potholes, rocks and small streams and sliding sideways across slick patches of mud. In the bleary light of the headlamps barely anything was visible.

Suddenly, as if from nowhere, a mound of earth appeared to rear up in front of the car. The Lada hit it with a thud, the driver swore, and we plunged down the other side with a sickening crunch. Tiny shards of glass scattered across the dashboard and front seats before the entire windscreen collapsed out of its rotten frame, breaking further as it hit the bonnet. The engine spluttered, the headlamps sparked, and we were once again swallowed by the blanket of night. 

A short while later, now towing our guide and his invalid Lada behind our car, we pulled up at a semi-circle of yurts camped on the lakeside. Smoke and the smell of dinner cooking wafted from holes in the roofs across the grass, and half a dozen excited children came shrieking out to greet us. With the darkness had come an icy chill – winter was fast approaching – and so we were ushered inside almost as soon as we stepped out from the car.

A yurt is built in a circle around a fire. A wooden lattice around the walls supports a pointed roof, animal skin keeps it watertight, and thick layers of felt from the nomads’ own flocks keep winter winds at bay. We left our shoes at the door – you should always enter a Kyrgyz home barefoot – and sunk our toes into thick felt rugs and quilted blankets. At a low table in the center of the room, dinner was waiting: hot, oily soup with lamb and potato, freshly cooked unleavened bread with jam made from wild berries, and steaming green tea to wash it all down. Our hostess grinned as she served each dish, flashing her numerous gold teeth, a sign of wealth, in a wide open smile. 

When the final mouthful had been consumed, we lounged back on stacks of blankets, each one a patchwork of primary colors and geometric designs. Where the table had been, a bed was laid out with yet more stacks of rugs and quilts. It was not until the bed was nearly complete that I noticed its unusual shape: it was little over 6ft long, as one would expect, but a good 12ft in width! Realising the intended sleeping arrangements, my eyes skated around the room, taking in the horrified expressions of my fellow visitors. They were clearly not amused when I, the only girl in the room, took up my place at one end of the bed and began to hum the children’s song “There were ten in the bed and the little one said…”

Back in the USSR: Introducing Kyrgyzstan

Kyrgyzstan is a country with a distinctly split personality. High altitude gold mines, Lexus 4x4s and brash Russian lake resorts appear to herald a Las Vegas of the steppe, but they stand side by side with nomads in yurts, un-spoilt landscapes, and the genetic descendants of Genghis Khan. This eclectic mix makes it hard to pin down a single national identity for Kyrgyzstan, but ensure it is a fascinating destination for those willing to make the trip.

We first arrived in Kyrgyzstan almost by accident, becoming stranded in the capital, Bishkek, after particularly heavy snowfall. 93% of the country is mountainous and, in places, the snow never melts. Bishkek, however, usually enjoys slightly warmer climes and its partly for that reason that the city has been able to grow from a tiny 19^th century Russian garrison town into a buzzing metropolis today. Although geographically to the north of Kyrgyzstan, Bishkek is very much the country’s heart: economically, politically and culturally, almost everything is centered around the capital.

Its in Bishkek that Kyrgyzstan’s Russian side is most clearly evident. The Bolshevik military leader, Mikhail Frunze, was born here, the capital used to be named in his honour, and a street and museum still bears his name. Statues of Marx and Lenin are noticeably more conspicuous than in other post-Soviet states, and a visit to the State Historical Museum will introduce you to a fabulous Cold War relic: a cowboy clad in stars and stripes, riding high on a Pershing missile. For those with an interest in high-culture, the National Opera House, built prior to the Russian Revolution, is housed in a charming neo-classical building and hosts regular performances of opera and ballet by local and visiting troupes.

When the weekend comes, Kyrgyzstan’s elite head out west to join Russian and Kazakh tourists in resorts on the shores of Lake Issyk Kul. This volcanically heated lake is the second largest alpine lake in the world (after Lake Titicaca), and during the long summer the beaches are packed with beautiful bodies sunning themselves: think of it as Central Asia’s Monaco. If sunbathing isn’t your thing, you can befriend an oligarch with a gin palace, climb onboard a banana boat  or even go hunting for the remains of Soviet torpedoes and ancient cities buried beneath the waves.

Kyrgyzstan’s second side is distinctly quieter: it lacks the bling and the noise but, in spite of that, it is all the more enthralling. Wide open landscapes, unclimbed peaks and pristine glaciers beckon those prepared to leave the roads and continue on foot or on horseback. You won’t find a single hotel here: your hosts are the nomads in their tents, villagers in single-storey houses, and, if you choose to camp, the hillsides themselves. This is an ancient land, traversed by pilgrims, traders and travelers for thousands of years. When you climb into the mountains, you leave the present behind you and see the legacy of those who have gone before: pagan shrines with flags and goat skulls, Buddhist rock carvings, and distant look-out posts.

To understand the traditional spirit of Kyrgyzstan, you should look no further than a horse. The Kyrgyz say that a horse is the soul of a man and that it can carry him up into the heavens. Children can ride as soon as they can walk, and adrenalin-fuelled displays of horsemanship will garner a man respect. Whether you’re a Grand National winning jockey or a complete novice, you should take to the saddle for a few days, go well beyond the beaten track, and get up close and personal with nature. The mountains loom overhead, golden eagles soar, and snow leopards, Marco Polo sheep and ibex stalk the passes. There are no creature comforts up here, so bathe in the thermal springs and sleep each night on a pile of rugs in a round felt yurt, the traditional nomadic tent. The physical exertion may tire your body, but the peacefulness  revitalizes mind and soul.

Kyrgyzstan is yet to fully open up to tourism, and this is its beauty. The terrain is pristine, the people genuinely hospitable, and you won’t compete for space with tour buses and school groups. Now is the time to go, however, as things are set to change. Relative political and economic stability is attracting attention and investment from China and Russia, not to mention western powers. Multi-million dollar plans for ski resorts, shopping malls and super casinos loom large on the horizon and, although they may fit with some aspects of Kyrgyzstan, they risk engulfing the other parts altogether. Pack up your boots and phrasebook, and get on the plane.

Photos C. Tracing Tea 2008-2010