Kyrgyzstan > Tamchi on Lake Issyk Kul

Before I leave Bishkek, I send a few emails. From today, I will be heading into the mountains of Kyrgyzstan. I think I will have little to no reception over the next week. Leaving Bishkek, the morning traffic is a bit heavier, but nowhere near as extreme as in other capitals. Soon, I am driving through the countryside outside the city. About seventy kilometers from Bishkek, Jina, my driver, turns off to visit the Burana Tower. I can see the old tower from a distance. It probably served as a minaret in the past.

Kyrgyzstan - The Burana Tower once served as a minaret

I reach the entrance of the tower via a modern spiral staircase. Inside, I climb further up a narrow, steep stairwell, barely fitting in the tight space. From the top of the tower, I have a view over the entire area. Three Kyrgyz boys, also on the tower, point out the archaeological excavations to me. At the excavations, I see grave markers—small carved faces. Continuing on, the road winds further into the valley. Mountain ranges appear on both sides. The landscape becomes more rugged. For lunch, I point at a few bread rolls in the display case using gestures. The hands-and-feet method is starting to feel familiar. At least I get what I want. Shortly after this stop, I reach Lake Issyk Kul. This mountain lake is, after Lake Titicaca in Peru, the largest mountain lake in the world. It stretches 180 kilometers in length. Because of hot springs feeding into the lake, the water does not freeze in winter.

Kyrgyzstan - A mountain hike to the waterfall in the Ala Archa Nature Park

At the village of Tamchi, on the lakeshore, I meet my host family for the overnight stay. I am warmly welcomed. The daughter of the family shows me my bedroom. The toilet and shower are in a separate building in the garden. A very comfortable arrangement. Other travelers are staying with different families. When I walk to the lake, Tamchi looks rather gray and dull. Dark clouds hang over the lake, and I see lightning flashes in the mountains on the far side. I carefully dip my foot into the lake to check the temperature. It feels quite chilly—I decide it’s too cold for swimming. The sandy beaches along the lake are practically deserted. In the distance, I see a few boys riding donkeys. The rising wind blows sand through the streets of Tamchi. I just manage to close my eyes in time. In the evening, a hearty meal is prepared at my host family’s home. I eat with three fellow travelers and two Americans.