So for the 2-3 of you who actually read this blog, sorry for the sporadic postings over the last few weeks. Once we made it out of Kyrgyzstan OK, we were planning on doing some intense blog sessions before heading off to China, but alas, fate had another plan for us.
For starters, Internet access kind of blows in Almaty. Not that it isn't available, but I guess being the richest 'stan, most people just have it in their home, so access for the poor bums on the street is few and far between.
Second, I (Liz) got face-controlled at the Chinese embassy in Almaty. Having heard tales of how horrific their Almaty embassy is, as soon as I arrived I headed straight for a travel agent to grease the visa wheels, as it were. Alas, no amount of money could overcome the truth in the age old axiom that communists are lazy. JK, Mao Zedong! But seriously - the embassy in Almaty was closed from the 27th of Sept. to the 8th of Oct. for some holidays. Since I had to fly back on the US by the 10th at the latest, China was effectively ruled out. So I did the only thing a girl could do - hopped a plane to Bangkok. Having already been to Thailand a few years back, I decided to head south for Malaysia, where I spent a few days on the old colonial island of Penang before heading for the east coast Perhentian Islands for some great diving. I have some good pics to post, but unfortunately I am unable to upload photos on the Apple IIGS I am working with here in a Malaysian Internet cafe.
As for Brian, I have it on good authority that he has made it safely into China and is rickshaw-ing it all over the eastern provinces. Unfortunately, in addition to being lazy, the communists also hate freedom. (Again, JK MZ!). Apparently Brian is not able to access the blog from China, so you faithful readers will have to wait until he reaches Mongolia, that bastion of free speech, before you can hear about his Chinese exploits...
Monday, October 8, 2007
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Gandpa Sass Would be Proud
In Almaty, you can take a cable car up to the top of Kok Tobe, a mountain overlooking the city. Apparantly it is not only a hot tourist destination, but also a favorite with the celebs.
"Guests of Kok Tobe": Check the bottom left hand corner. Is that who I think it is?
It is! It's Segal!
Um, who let Depardieu past passport control?
"Guests of Kok Tobe": Check the bottom left hand corner. Is that who I think it is?
It is! It's Segal!
Um, who let Depardieu past passport control?
How much for that bovine in the window?
According to the LP, you can by a sheep at the animal market for around $20, a horse for about $150. With prices like this, there is no place else to be at 6:00 am on a Sunday morning in Karakol.
"Quick, grab the keys while no one is looking"
"Quick, grab the keys while no one is looking"
Yurt Review
After a brief pit stop in Bishkek, it was time for some hard core yurting. We hopped a car for Kochkor, and from there we would head up to Song Kol, an alpine lake in central Kyrgystan, for a three day horse trek. The yurt is an integral part of the cultural life of Central Asia – in fact, Kyrgystan incorporated a yurt into the design of its flag – so we were looking forward to getting down to business and finally getting in some QT in some yurts.
We spent the first night on the lake. Before the trip, our good friend Marissa had gone to great length to impress on me the, well, rustic nature of yurt life. I believe a direct quote was, "You'd better bring a book, because there is nothing to do there but walk around and look at poop" (incidentally, there is a lot of it, because it is burned at night to heat the yurts). She had also warned that the only cuisine was "sheep's butt", a frightening thought to me, not least because I am a vegetarian. So imagine my surprise when, after a long day of relaxing by the river and hiking around the foothills, we were served with a delicious vegetarian dinner. And blini for breakfast! And our yurt was so warm and toasty at night, that I got about the best night of sleep since leaving Georgia. Marissa is such a lightweight, I thought. The yurt life is grand!
Kochkor base camp: The Hilton of yurts
A gold mine of yurt fuel
The next day we set out on a two0day horse trek through the mountains. Soon we would learn how good we had it at the base camp, for the next night we stayed in the Bachelor Pad. Run by a 23 y.o. old Kyrgyz and an older Russian man, the Pad was clearly missing a woman's touch. Brian and I got a little nervous when we noticed holes in the sides of the yurt, because by the time we arrived it was almost freezing outside. Don't worry, I said - we'll just ask for extra poop to burn! Then we noticed there was no oven in the yurt. We also noticed the certificate from the Kyrgyz Tourist board certifying that his yurt had been inspected and had achieved the rating of "Minimal Standards". When I told our host I was a vegetarian, he replied (too) quickly that it was no problem. And shortly we found out why - dinner consisted of fried potatoes. As either an explanation or apology, or both, our guide said "This is the kind of meal you expect when no women are around". Indeed! But we were so hungry we gladly devoured the dinner, and at bedtime, our host wrapped us up snugly in 4,000 layers of blankets, and we survived the night.
Ride it. Ride it like a pony.
The bags of rock holding the roof of our yurt on.
We spent the first night on the lake. Before the trip, our good friend Marissa had gone to great length to impress on me the, well, rustic nature of yurt life. I believe a direct quote was, "You'd better bring a book, because there is nothing to do there but walk around and look at poop" (incidentally, there is a lot of it, because it is burned at night to heat the yurts). She had also warned that the only cuisine was "sheep's butt", a frightening thought to me, not least because I am a vegetarian. So imagine my surprise when, after a long day of relaxing by the river and hiking around the foothills, we were served with a delicious vegetarian dinner. And blini for breakfast! And our yurt was so warm and toasty at night, that I got about the best night of sleep since leaving Georgia. Marissa is such a lightweight, I thought. The yurt life is grand!
Kochkor base camp: The Hilton of yurts
A gold mine of yurt fuel
The next day we set out on a two0day horse trek through the mountains. Soon we would learn how good we had it at the base camp, for the next night we stayed in the Bachelor Pad. Run by a 23 y.o. old Kyrgyz and an older Russian man, the Pad was clearly missing a woman's touch. Brian and I got a little nervous when we noticed holes in the sides of the yurt, because by the time we arrived it was almost freezing outside. Don't worry, I said - we'll just ask for extra poop to burn! Then we noticed there was no oven in the yurt. We also noticed the certificate from the Kyrgyz Tourist board certifying that his yurt had been inspected and had achieved the rating of "Minimal Standards". When I told our host I was a vegetarian, he replied (too) quickly that it was no problem. And shortly we found out why - dinner consisted of fried potatoes. As either an explanation or apology, or both, our guide said "This is the kind of meal you expect when no women are around". Indeed! But we were so hungry we gladly devoured the dinner, and at bedtime, our host wrapped us up snugly in 4,000 layers of blankets, and we survived the night.
Ride it. Ride it like a pony.
The bags of rock holding the roof of our yurt on.
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