Greg and Mandy's Travels

Putin has just flown in to Kazakhstan, so it was time to leave. Up at 5, breakfast at 6, and in the bus at 7.

Took a pit stop at the local supermarket to buy things for lunch, then it was off to Charyn Canyon. The locals call it the mini Grand Canyon, which is somewhat of a stretch, but it looks very similar, and has been carved out by the river in the same fashion. 160km long, so its a decent attraction. Spent an hour walking down the steps to the canyon floor, and along for a couple of kms, then having lunch watching the vista.

The ambience was spoiled somewhat as a truck with a large Taxi sign raised clouds of dust as it came past several times ferrying tourists from the end back up to the top.

A word about toilets. What blog would be complete without them. They all cost, and you’d better have a small coin. Even more important – you need to remember to pick up your toilet paper when you pay. The public toilets in most places other than shopping centres are long drops through the hole, which are rather off putting to older ladies with limited balance. Certainly not the place to be checking your phone.

We thought the toilets at Charyn Canyon were somewhat primitive and not worth the money, but that was until we got to the toilets at the Kyrgyzstan border post.

The roads were interesting. In most developed countries, borders are busy places, so the roads and infrastructure gets better the closer you get to them. Not in this part of the world. We made several turns onto increasingly smaller roads, until we finally hit a dirt road for the last 10 kms. Imagine going out the Balonne Highway, turning up Middle Road, and finally driving down Rutherglen Road to the end where you found a wire gate denoting an international border guarded by a soldier hefting an AK-47. Well that’s what it was like. Guess that the nomadic farmers aren’t that interested in crossing the border – its only the tourists, and one of them was sillier than us. We passed him toiling uphill the other way over the stones on his bike. Hope he made the gate before the nightly closure.

For some reason Kazakhstan was more reluctant to let us leave than Kyrgyzstan was to let us in, but eventually we all made it through. Valentina was most relieved that we didn’t have to unload the baggage from the bus. She told us she would try smiling, and if that didn’t work she would pay money. Seemed that her smile was enough today. She was flirting with the border guard when we heard the word Babushka. When we enquired she laughed, and said that the guard had checked her passenger list, and upon finding that everybody in the group was listed as Retired, said that he thought we were all too young to be grandparents.

The dirt road across the border at Kegen was no better, and after successfully tackling the long drops, we headed towards Karakol, stopping several times for photos. Suddenly there were toilets scattered across the paddocks everywhere. As Winter is now approaching, all the nomadic shepherds have packed up their yurts and headed back down the mountains to the villages, leaving their toilets in the paddocks for when they return with their yurts next Spring. Just like holidaying every year at Rosebud really.

We’re used to seeing herds of grazing sheep and cattle in Australia, but here we see lots of herds of wild horses grazing on the paddocks. 

All in all, a ten and a half hour day, so we were pleased when we pulled in to our guest house. After only a few minutes to dump our gear, it was off to another nearby house to learn how to make Lagman – a local variety of noodles, before enjoying a lovely four course meal including Lagman and honey cake.

A bus full of tired travelers tonight.

Matsunoki Guest House, Karakol