Day 1: Travelling to Bishkek

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Nestled in the centre of Asia, Kyrgyzstan is a landlocked country bordering Kazakhstan to the North, Tajikistan to the South, China in the East and Uzbekistan in the West. It is the most isolated country from the oceans in the world. Naturally when you announce you're travelling to Kyrgyzstan, you are met with confusion followed by curiosity. Once you've established where it is, how to spell it and how you'll get there - it's a matter of why? The remoteness and wildness appeals to me the most, with over 90% of the country being dominated by the Tian Shan and Pamir mountain ranges. As a result there are thousands of glaciers and high-altitude alpine lakes, making for exciting terrain to explore. I have also never travelled to Central Asia and I'm interested in the nomadic heritage that still remains strong throughout this part of the world. If I'm honest I know very little about the history and culture of Kyrgyzstan with my research extending to climate, altitudes and distances. But I often find it's easier to learn these aspects of a country when you are immersed within it.

The stage for my adventure will be in the Alay Valley in Southern Kyrgyzstan, where the Pamir mountain range straddles the Kyrgyzstan-Tajikistan border. Here lies Lenin Peak, a colossal mountain standing 7134m above sea level. My aim is to hike to the base camp of Lenin Peak (3600m), the primary staging area for expeditions to the surrounded mountains. This will be my base to initially ascend Petrovsky peak (4900m). After returning to Lenin base camp, I will then climb to camp 1 of Lenin Peak where I will camp for the night on the mountain, before ascending Yukhin Peak (5130m) which sits on the Northern spurs of Lenin.

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As always when embarking on these adventures, the journey is never simple. It began with a 5 hour coach journey to Stansted, an airport hotel stay, a 4 hour flight to Istanbul, a 6 hour layover and another 5 hour flight to Bishkek. Despite my love for adventures I cope very poorly with long flights, transits, waiting and sitting. The queues, the quantity of people, the noise all exacerbate my irritability and impatience. Eventually, suprisingly without any significant meltdowns, I landed in Bishkek.

The baggage slowly emerged as people wearily waited for their luggage. There seemed to be two sets of people; local families of around 3 to 4 generations or individuals with large kit bags and expedition gear. My bag took 40 minutes to eventually appear and I made my way to arrivals, excited to get to a hotel for a brief rest. A man sat slumped over a wall holding a piece of A4 paper reading "Amy Sturtivant", I bounded over smiling and saying "Hi I'm Amy!" He slowly looked up without returning the smile and said "Welcome to Kyrgyzstan" in the least possible enthusiastic tone. He nodded firmly and began to walk briskly towards the car park. I staggered after him, weighed down by my bags. After about 10 paces, he turned and grabbed one of my bags, then continued at pace to his vehicle as I scurried after him saying "thank you". I gathered his English stretched no further than his cold welcome to the country and I certainly couldn't offer him any Kyrgyz or Russian, so we drove in silence. After 5 minutes, he put the radio on and upbeat Kyrgyz music filled the car, it felt like a fusion between middle Eastern and Russian sounds. The mysterious music paired well with the unfamiliar surroundings. A dusty straight road, distant snowy mountains, abandoned factories and business names in cyrillic alphabet that were meaningless to me. As the intensity of the music beat grew so did the aggressive nature of his driving. Weaving between cars and never shy to use the horn, almost as if it were an accompliment to the music. I trusted the process, as is often the only choice in these circumstances, and eventually we arrived to my hotel. He opened the boot of the car, placed my bags on the ground, pointed at the hotel and nodded firmly. "Thank you" I said with a toned down enthusiasm compared to my initial greeting and yet again my smile was not returned. I had barely loaded my bags onto my back before he'd whizzed off with his music blaring.

After some rest I met my guide and group for a tour of Bishkek. Rusham, our culture guide, was friendly with kind eyes and a cheeky smile. He is only 36 but already has 5 children and works as a paediatrician on weekdays and Bishkek guide on the weekends. He led us around Osh Bazaar, a maze of market stalls selling everything you could possibly imagine. Colourful arrangements of dried fruits, elaborately decorated bread and handmade souvenirs lined the endless array of stalls. A man used an axe to aggressively hack at a piece of meat, discarding the unwanted parts onto a pile that flies swarmed. Rusham pointed at various items; "That's horse sausage", "That's the fat from a sheep's bottom that's been coated in spices", "That's a dried cheese ball made of sour milk." Everything he pointed to seemed to be a delicacy, none of which I was that enthused to try. In the 40 degree heat of the city, looking at non-refridgerated meat was not exactly my desired activity!

Following the chaos of the market we had a traditional Kyrgyz lunch, the national dish called Beshbarmak. It's name translates to "five fingers" because people traditionally eat it using their hands. It consists of noodles or pasta, boiled horse meat and onion sauce. The flavour was mild, the meat was rather chewy and mostly I was concerned at how safely it was being stored given what I had just witnessed. As Kyrgyz people have traditionally lived Nomadic lives before the Soviet Union arrived, their diet relied predominantly on meat and starches as they never remained in one place to grow fruits and vegetables. Although in the city you can now access fresh fruits and vegetables, in the rural areas this would not be common. Our guide pointed at a salad on the table saying "In rural Kyrgyzstan, they would laugh at people eating this and feed it to the horses!"

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Following lunch we explored the city further. It was relatively quiet for a capital city, possibly as it was Sunday afternoon, and felt very safe. We observed historic buildings and monuments and learnt about the Soviet past. Most Kyrgyz are grateful for the infrastructure that was built during this time however recognise the cost it had on their nomadic heritage. Kyrgyzstan has only been independent for 35 years and has struggled with revolutions and corruption during this time however recently has been less turbulent. Come late afternoon the facts began to wash over me as I was surviving on 1 hour of sleep. The heat in the city was stifling and I gazed ahead to the distant snowy mountains that lined the horizon. Longing for the cold and the serenity.

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(Blog most likely will be updated on my return from the mountains once I have connection - in just under 2 weeks!) xx