Kyrgyzstan > Caravanserai of Tash Rabat

I leave Son Kul Lake from exactly the opposite side from where I had approached it. At the top of the pass, I step out for a moment. I look out over the valley and see the winding road clinging to the mountainside. From above, this mountain pass looks even more beautiful than the route on the other side of the lake. By bus, I then descend the mountainside. It’s a magnificent sight to descend into the valley like this. When I reach the bottom, I immediately notice that it’s much warmer. I take off my sweater again. At the main road, the bus turns left toward Naryn.

Kyrgyzstan - The old caravanserai of Tash Rabat

Around midday, we reach the town. Naryn lies completely squeezed between two mountain slopes, leaving very little room for expansion. On the main street, I take my last photos. From Naryn, the route continues toward the border with China. In this section, roadwork is in full swing. The road is bumpy, and there are frequent detours. At the end of the afternoon, we take the turnoff to Tash Rabat, still fifteen kilometers away. It becomes tense whether we will arrive in time to visit the Tash Rabat caravanserai. According to my travel guide, the ancient trading post is open until five o’clock. The road is rough and slowly climbs up through the valley. Low-hanging clouds occasionally drop a few raindrops, giving the valley a somewhat gray appearance. When I arrive at the tent camp, I immediately see the caravanserai. I quickly put on my raincoat and head for the entrance. The caravanserai dates from the tenth century, though it probably only started serving as a caravanserai later. From the outside, the building looks like a fortress. I walk through the large main gate and pass the old—likely—sleeping quarters, entering the central hall, which may have been used as a mosque. After some searching, I also find the entrance to an old 200-meter-long tunnel. The tunnel has collapsed. In the central area by the yurts, the stove has been lit—wonderful! There is also a table full of sweets ready. I settle on the bench. After dinner, the whole group thanks the drivers, Vladimir and Dimitri, and our guide, Olga. Tomorrow morning they will drop us off at the Chinese border. At the dining table, glasses of vodka are passed around, and there is even some spontaneous singing. Olga, in particular, sings beautifully. When it is announced that the little stoves in the yurts are burning, I quickly go to bed. Inside the yurt, it is pleasantly warm. As the stove gradually dies down, the yurt becomes colder. I estimate that it is around freezing outside again. Tonight, I only have one blanket available.