Our day started when we wandered into the hostel’s kitchens to find two South Africans cooking a breakfast feast while lamenting that their Rally clothes hadn’t been enough to get them past the strict dress codes of Almaty’s clubs the night before. After a quick run to the shop to contribute ingredients, we sat back and spent the morning in the kitchen swapping stories and eating like royalty.
Eventually around noon we decided it was time to hit the road, but one thing first: Chase wanted to check out the Green Bazaar, Almaty’s largest bazaar. Once we reunited with the Elephants and the Lumberyaks it was off to the Bazaar, only to discover that it was closed on Mondays. Luckily for us though there was a little market next door, where Chase was able to purchase the much-coveted traditional Kazakh hats. By the time we left the market (and we watched the Elephants and Lumberyaks get pulled over by Almaty’s finest), it was already after 3PM; rather than hitting the road at such a late hour, we decided to spend the afternoon doing personal admin and then meet with Chase’s friend Aggey in the evening.
Right around sunset Aggey arrived at our hostel and offered to take us on a tour of his city. Aggey has spent his entire life living in Almaty and climbing tall peaks around the world; in June he had been in Alaska to climb Denali, and when he met Chase the two decided that they’d have to meet up during the Rally. Aggey’s pride in Almaty and in Kazakhstan in general was obvious as he told us the history of this major city at the crossroads of Central Asia. Well before we rolled into town in our Panda, the Mongols had crossed the Kazakh steppe, the traders of the Silk Road had plied their wares, the Soviet Union annexed Kazakhstan, revolution had led to the world’s longest-serving President in a “democracy,” and rapid development and modernization in a shrinking and increasingly-connected world all proved that Almaty is truly the social, cultural, historical, and financial capital of this interesting country.
The highlight of the evening was when Aggey brought us to Kishlak, a traditional Kazakh restaurant in the heart of the city. Like Kazakhs, we drank green tea and fermented mare’s milk while reclining beside the low table that was surrounded by beautiful tapestries on the walls. Aggey explained that a “kishlak” is the name for a large camp when multiple families of traveling nomads all temporarily join together; the perfect symbolic parallel to our convoys all camping together in the Kazakh desert! We feasted on traditional meals ordered by Aggey, and went to bed that night with full stomachs, active imaginations, and a strong desire to make it back to this wonderful city.
Judging by the crowd, we began our day in Bishkek much like everyone else: with a trip to the main bazaar. We were happier with our room choice for the previous night when we just had to walk a couple blocks to reach the bazaar and passed a bakery on the way, where Charla found a slice of breakfast honey-chocolate cake. As we walked around, Chase found his breakfast in the bazaar itself—meat on a stick and a fresh meat and potato samosa. While the food was great, the beverage was not; sour coconut milk is not a good pairing with fresh, delicious food. The good far out-weighed the bad in the bazaar, especially once Charla found some stylish leggings that put together the Union Jack and the Icelandic flag. She’s ready for some cooler temperatures once we get to high altitude in Russia.
After a good morning in the market, we left town for the famed Lake Issyk Kul. We took a route that mixed directions from our paper map and Google Maps, being sure that we didn’t accidentally re-enter Kazakhstan and use the last of our available entries, and the drive was gorgeous. We passed between Kazakh and Kyrgyz mountains, over some small rivers, and through a sunflower field before rejoining the main road that took us through the mountain pass and on to the lake.
We thought the somewhat heavy traffic on the still-under-construction road was somewhat normal until we arrived in the town of Bosteri and started looking for a place to stay. We checked out a few places as we searched for the one Rashid recommended, and we soon found out it was a holiday weekend in a lake-beach town at full capacity.
Luckily, we had been trying the find a place while following a man in a Toyota who seemed to know what was going on. When we got a chance to talk to Mairambek, who had spent a year living in the US, he told us about his search for a room and kindly helped us find an apartment near the town market before finding his own. We were thankful once we settled in and then went for a walk around the neighborhood and down to the beach. Our walk back took us through a small market (tiny compared with the one we had experienced in the morning) where Charla picked up some fresh vegetables to add to dinner.
Today’s lesson: Fresh coconut, good. Sour coconut milk, not good.