Ann Elisabeth ...

From:"Ann Elisabeth"
To: "Sergey I. Pyshnenko" <turkestan@karakol.kg>

Best site I see. Thanks.

Thank you - we had a wonderful trip, and really enjoyed the Yurt camp. Thank you for helping us arrange the trip!

Best wishes,
Alex Boston

Ulf Remahl ...

I myself continued to travel thought Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan. Both these countries are situated south of Kazakhstan. Straight south from Almaty you have the snow-covered peaks in the Tian Shan mountain chain. Many of the summits there are well over 4000m. No roads have been built through such a rugged terrain. Therefore I first traveled due east from Almaty towards the border of China to a place called Kegan. From there you can via a small road up through mountain passes journey south towards Kyrgyzstan and the city of Karakol. Due to lack of public transport this beautiful section of the Silk Road are very seldom used by tourists. The landscape is magnificent especially in the higher stretches. Rich verdant alpine meadows are covered with flowers and a multitude of grazing animals from horses to yaks. Now in early June there was still snow on the higher parts of any hill or mountain while here and there the deep dark green colour of Tian Shan firs covered some of the steeper slopes. Karakol was a very interesting place. Adjacent to the small town is the incredible blue lake of Ysyk-K?l, which means warm lake in the Kyrgyz language. Although it is situated at 1600 meters above sea level the 695 meter deep lake will never freeze over due to thermal activity on the bottom of it and its slightly saline water. This very deep and long lake (170 km) was a very important test site for high-precision torpedoes during the Soviet time as it was so far away from preying eyes. For a while right after the country became independent you could check out the Kyrgyzstan navy consisting of some 40 ageing naval cutters but when I was there the place was again off limits to foreigners. The Russians have tried to get the Kyrgyz to let them use the place but they have so far been refused to do so. Now evidently everything is mothballed. For me though the most interesting place in Karakol was the final resting place for the famous Russian explorer Nikolai Przhevalsky on the shore of lake Ysyk-K?l. His grave is surrounded by a memorial park with a small but very interesting museum. In that there is an old lady, who must be pushing eighty something. She has an amazing grasp and knowledge about this explorer, who died in 1888 from typhus contracted by unwisely drinking river water during a tiger hunt. By the way the narration from the old lady is only delivered in Russian so if you ever go there bring an interpreter. Przhevalsky has given his name to the Przhevalsky horse. This Mongolian horse is the only truly wild horse left in the world today. By the way this horse has two more chromosomes then our 5 domestic horses. The old lady was so up-to-date that she knew that in 1969 the very last one of the Takhi, as the Mongolians call them, was spotted in the wild. The Takhi has since then from a total of three stallions and some mares, which luckily survived in some European and Russian Zoos, been breed to a sustainable number again. There are by now about 1500 of them outside Mongolia. Since 1992 the Takhi has been re-introduced in the wild in two places in Mongolia. They are thriving very well as I could confirm on a visit to that country in August 2004. No outside interference is being attempted in the eco-system there. Every year wolves kill some of the foals. This should though in the long run make the surviving Takhis stronger. The old lady by the way knew about this introduction too. Amazing! I notice here that I have gone a little bit off tangent but I find the whole concept of what I just have related so interesting that I could not resist mentioning it. In Karakol I stayed all the time in a yurt camp owned by Sergey Pyshnenko. For anyone contemplating traveling in this part of the world I can highly recommend him. We became friends. He and his daughter Nastia even visited me in Singapore in January 2004. His e-mail address is: "Sergey Pyshnenko" turkestan@karakol.kg Sergey has an absolutely amazing cook in his camp. This lady took during the Soviet time part in some cooking competition in Moscow. She was if I understood it right one of the winners. After having sampled her delicious food during the four days I stayed there I am not at all amazed that she became one of the Pioneer women. She richly deserves that title. Anyone going to Kyrgyzstan should make a side tour to this eastern part of the country to just sample her cuisine. If you want to stay in a little bit more up market place then Sergey is in the process of building a small hotel adjacent to the camping ground with the yurts. Sergey is an interesting character. He is actually an electrical engineer. While working on the many dams that exist in the country being in charge of the electrical department he also dabbled in mountain climbing. He started to organize alpine treks. There is a multitude of challenging snow-covered peaks in this country all the way up to a mind blowing 7439 m. The average elevation in Kyrgyzstan is an amazing 2750 m. Soon Sergey left his engineering job. Now he is working full time in the tourist and travel industry. You can literally at least in his country say that the sky is the limit. Sergey is the perfect man to contact if you ever intend to visit this beautiful part of the world. He has the contacts and will help you. If you want to travel on the cheap to Kyrgyzstan I saw an interesting advertisement in the capitol Bishkek. If you fly with the national airline a one-way ticket to St. Petersburg will be yours for 110 US $. A return ticket is of course double that. Furthermore the country is rapidly cutting down on the number of countries, whose citizen need to have a visa. Before leaving the subject of Karakol I have to mention my visit to the valley of the flowers. One day I rented a six-wheel monster from Sergey in order to travel up into a secluded part of the mountain range just south of Karakol with that enchanting valley. The vehicle was the same kind as the one we used in Kazakhstan. Those people bought theirs from Sergey. The main difference being that Sergey s vehicle was beautifully renovated inside. The 45 US $/day I paid for having a driver, two guides and all the food I could eat was certainly well worth it. When this monster in spite of its brute force couldn t ford any more rivers or climb additional steep inclines we disembarked. By foot we covered the remaining distance to the valley of the flowers. We did not see that many birds there but among those observed was the graceful ibis bill. What really made the day though were all those flowers. We sat down on a vast golden meadow having an excellent picnic lunch. I call it a golden meadow because in parts of it you could not even see one blade of grass due to the profusion of yellow flowers. The sides of this valley were in most parts covered by deep green Tian Shan firs. Here and there were some openings on the steep slopes. They were covered with either grass or boulders. On top of those some chestnut brown marmots invariably kept vigilance over intruders like us. Above all this soared snow-covered peaks and between them came the odd majestic Golden Eagle gliding. The melting snow produced plenty of crystal clear water for the river meandering through the bottom of the valley. In the parts with exposed gravel banks there were several ibis bills. In other places with a more rapid flow of water you could spot a dipper or two showing of their skill in curtseying on rocks adjacent to the water. The place was one of those places you do not want to leave. With Sergey as a driver and guide I traveled all around Kyrgyzstan. He wanted to do it himself as he then could also take along his pleasant young daughter Nastia during her summer school holiday. I will here only mention a few places that really impressed me. To relate everything would entitle to write a complete travel tome. One day while traveling in the western part of the country we followed one of the many swift flowing rivers on a very narrow and small road. At a small village Sergey stopped and asked a very friendly Kyrgyz man in his forties with a deep-brown weather beaten face full of friendly wrinkles about the distance to the main road. In the village itself there seemed to be some kind of feast going on. It turned out that the name of the man was Alik. He insisted we should take part in the celebration of having finished the basement for a new house. All three of us were immediately ushered into his house. Alik never stopped talking. There was no way you could misunderstand the genuine friendliness of the man. I did not understand a word of his chattering in the Kyrgyz language but it did not matter. The sole sofa in what appeared to be some kind of living room was swiftly cleared of some children. All three of us had to sit there while our host sat on the floor. In now time at all a beaming wife had placed a cup of hot tea in front of us. Directly after that you could hear her preparing something in the kitchen. We did not know what it was but there was no mistake that something was being fried from the crackling sounds and a pleasant appetizing aroma, which tickled your olfactory glands Shortly afterwards some fish fried to a crispy brown texture appeared on the table. They were delicious. The succulent meat just seemed to melt in your mouth. There was a long discussion between Sergey and our host about what kind of fish it was. No firm conclusion could be drawn as the limitation of Sergey s knowledge of Kyrgyz and Alik s knowledge of Russian made the task impossible. What I found out though was that the fish had just been caught in the swift flowing river adjacent to the village. Furthermore I still strongly believe that the fish belonged to the trout family. Sitting there having heard some aspects of their harsh life interpreted into English by Sergey and Nastia I asked quietly on the side if it would be ok to give them some money. I did not want to offend them but at the same time I did not want us to use up any of their meager resources. When I shook hands with our host when leaving, I had in my hand a wad of notes. The amount was below what would be obscene and offensive but still enough to show our gratitude. A beaming Alik graciously took it. I could see that apparently the sum was just about right. For days afterwards we all spoke about that mouth-watering meal. In the western part of the country we went up into the mountains to a village called Arslanbob. This place with a total of 12,000 souls is totally dominated by Uzbeks. There during the Soviet time a holiday village was built with a total of 500 beds. They are spread among numerous villas over an area of 29 hectares. Although some of the houses by now are a little bit dilapidated you can still sense some of the former grandeur in the park like environment. From there walking uphill a few stiff km along a riverbed will bring you to a nice waterfall. Besides that in the shade of a small tree I started to scan the cliff face. To my amazement I spotted less than half a kilometer away on a ledge a huge Himalayan Griffin. It was busy preening itself. In the crystal clear air the image in my 80 mm Swarovski scope was razor sharp even at sixty times magnification. Then I really regretted that I never had invested some money into one of the new digital cameras and an adapter for my scope. You might be wondering where we otherwise stayed. When on the road most of the time we used what they call a home stay. This excellent concept has been introduced by a Swiss organization. 7 Not only is it very comfortable to stay in one of those homes but you will also get an opportunity to sample some native home cooked food. Furthermore it will give you an insight into the indigenous culture. This scheme not only covers some villages and smaller towns in the west of the country. You can if you so wish stay with herders in their yurts up on alpine meadow, where their animals are brought for grazing during the summer months. The final place I have to point out in Kyrgyzstan is the 3000-year-old city of Osh on the Silk Road. Sergey helped me there to finalize the last details for my trip to Tajikistan. Through some investigation of my own I had managed to glean that traveling through Pamir would be perfectly safe. On the other hand trying to visit the capitol Dushanbe by car would be complete madness unless I wanted to be robbed or even worse. For anyone contemplating visiting Osh they have to make sure they go to the market there. That one has evidently been in existence for more than three millenniums. I have during my globetrotting days been to many different markets all over the world. In this case unless I had not happened to read a travel epilogue about it I would have just dismissed it as one more of the same. It is amazing how wrong my presumption was. You simply have to go there! The market itself covers a huge area. On sale is probably virtually everything anyone in this part of the world either needs or wants. Someone told me that people right down to the border of Afghanistan make regular shopping trips to this central Asian shopping paradise. What fascinated me most there were all the implements for the herders. They had among other things for sale some really elaborately hand carved cots. Although such an item would make a very interesting and beautiful souvenir it was by far too big to bring along. What I bought though was two small ingenious wooden implements used to solve the urine disposal problem for the babies of the herders. They do not use nappies for their young ones. Instead the infant will be very well dressed in warm clothes covering everything except their face and bottom. At a convenient spot in the cradle there is a spot reserved for a small pot, which nowadays invariable is made out of plastic. That solves the problem for the solid waste. You might then wonder how the liquid part of waste disposal is worked out. For this two version of the previous mentioned implement has been designed. The one, which looks like a small pipe is for the boys and another version, which has what we can call the pipe head removed and replaced with a long deep groove, is for the girls. The whole contraption is then put between the legs of the baby. A hole drilled through the shaft of the implement up to either the pipe head or the groove respectively will bring the urine safely into the pot. The fact that the baby is snugly wrapped in blankets will make sure that everything stays nicely in place and is furthermore correctly lined up. I thought that the contraption was a very clever solution to an old never-ending problem. Then when the cradle is tied on to the top of either a yak or a horse I assume some heat will be dispersed up to the baby cot and keep the infant snug and warm. These implements are beautifully carved and decorated. I now have the two versions in a display cabinet at home. So far nobody has ever managed to guess the proper use of these items. Most women for example think that the boy version is some kind of pipe. How much did it cost? If I remember right it was the equivalent of just under 50 US cents each.

Ian & Lynne ...

...Dear Sergey
Very good to hear from you. I hope that the business prospers. I was expecting to return to your part of the world and did but thi was a three week visit to Tadjikistan in the middle of the year. No time to go to Kyrgyzstan I am afraid - maybe next time...
...
We all wish you a very happy christmas and New Yeaar. Lets hope that it brings peace and sense into the world...
...
Take care - see you when we are next in the area. Come and visit us if you are in England.
Ian & Lynne.

Diana and Martin

Hello sveta, sveta, lena. lena, bob, vitaly, mirlan, victor, alek and all your wonderful people.
We have reached Switzerland last night, everything went well, except that ths connection from Istanbul to zurich has been disorganized by turkish airline, therefore we had to wait in Istanbul for approx. Four hours until they had put us on a turkish airline flight to Frankfurt and from Frankfurt to Zurich, Switzerland.
Here the weather is very good and warm but in the early morning we already have thick fog, however this is usual for the month of September.
We would once more thank you all for the wonderful time we could experience together with you and we will certainly stay in contact with you as good friends.
Say hello to everyone, we wish you all success, good health and happiness.
We shall see you again. good wishes to you and good bye maybe next year.

Diana and Martin

Charles Hopton ...

...Hello Sergey,
I m sorry that I did not have the opportunity to visit with you when I came through Karakol in July.
Vadim gave me the map of Eastern Kyrgyzstan that you sent to me. The picture of Khan Tengri on the front draws me back to the Tien Shan.

My clients were very happy in the Tien Shan I went up Khan Tengri twice, but due to bad weather did not get to the top. Of course that gives me an excuse to return to Kyrgyzstan.

My best regards,
Charles H. Hopton
Kazakh Adventures
Kazakh Trading Co., Inc.
0149 E. Lupine Drive
Aspen, Colorado 81611 USA
Specializing in travel and trade in Central Asia

Saulius...

...Dear friends,

Thanks for your service!
The year 1999 was succesiful in my life and one of success reasons is new friends in Kirgizstan.
I wish you to be strong in bussines and so friendly as before.

Saulius

Anne Raymond...

Dear Sergey Pyshnenko!!!
Thank you to all your staff. Volodia and a ll the porters. They were all very professionals and so scrupulous.Thank you too and good luck to Dima. Oll never forget-this trek and your country.

Steve McGrory...

TREKKING IN THE “CHINESE ALPS”
JOIN THE ARMY AND SEE THE WORLD (IN YOUR SPARE TIME)

I had not made noises like it since Army Basic Training, such was the duress my sea-level hugging frame was experiencing as I hauled it up a near-vertical slope towards Archa-Tor Pass, knee-deep in snow at 12000 ft in the Kyrgyzstan side of the Tien Shan Mountain Border with China. Fortunately I was not alone in my suffering; I was one of a small band of determined men on a British Army expedition to explore the tiny mountain kingdom of Kyrgyzstan, located deep in former Soviet Central Asia. As my cardiovascular system worked overtime to scavenge oxygen from the thin air, I reflected on our reasons for coming here. Firstly, the Country had been highly recommended by the senior member of our party, an Army Colonel who had travelled the region with the Arms Control Missions during the early nineties, and who was now employing all of his inherent Ulster stubbornness and determination to drive his 52-year old frame up the same slope. Secondly, we wanted to experience the challenges that go with exploration of an area that was for so long closed to outsiders. Having spent my pre-Army student holidays backpacking through India, Nepal and China to the south, and Russia and Mongolia to the north, I had an aching personal desire to see at first hand what lay in the middle and fill in the blanks on my mental world map. And first hand I saw it; Alpine pastures flanked by glaciers and granite peaks; semi-arid steppe thinly populated by nomadic herdsmen; quiet, leafy settlements of gingerbread houses with apple trees, all populated by a warm and friendly cosmopolitan mix of ethnic Slav, native Kyrgyz and Dungan Chinese.

Kyrgyzstan is one of the most open and liberal of the former Soviet Central Asian States. It declared independence from Moscow on 31 August 1991, and has made considerable efforts to develop its relations with the West, most recently through tourism. The Country occupies an area slightly smaller in size than Britain, of which over three-quarters lies under permanent snow and glaciers at altitudes above 1000m. The Tien Shan Mountains form a stunning natural boundary with China to the south and east, and the Country is bounded to the north and west by the Republics of Uzbekistan, Kazakstan and Tajikistan.

The Expedition flew into Almaty, capital of Kazakstan, and we caught our first glimpse of the Tien Shan through the grey dawn - a panoramic vista of snow-capped mountains stretching across the entire horizon. We had made arrangements with a small independent trekking firm in-country to host us on our trip, and their minibus soon had us en route to Karakol, a small frontier town located just over the Border on the shores of Lake Issy-Kul and nestling in the foothills of the “Chinese Alps”. Our short acclimatisation period was passed in the spartan yet comfortable former Soviet-style climbing Lodge situated on the outskirts of town. We soon discovered the local vodka, a perfectly drinkable yet dangerously cheap brew at only 30 pence a litre, and complemented by the equally cheap but very drinkable Efes (Turkish) beer. This propensity of liquid refreshment was matched only by the blandness of the local food - we existed on a fairly mundane diet of lagman (tepid noodle soup) and pelmeny (greasy dumpling soup made from gristle).

We departed Karakol on a bright, sunny morning in a very impressive six-wheel drive ex-Soviet Army command vehicle, our all-terrain transport to the trek start-point in the Chong-Kyzyl-Suu Valley. The drive was bumpy yet dramatic, as we thundered along the pot-holed road through the fertile Issy-Kul Plain and turned up into the logging track which afforded access to the mountain foothills. The “Monster Truck”, as it was now christened, effortlessly ground its way across mountain streams and swollen rivers, although we were regularly called upon to physically manhandle fallen trees across the route. We reached our drop-off point shortly before dusk, which fortunately was to be our first nights campsite.

The following day marked the start of our physical exertions. Tanya and Anatoly, our guides, set a steady pace, with Tanya on a head start as (we later discovered) she was apprehensive about her ability to keep up with trained British soldiers! She need not have worried; as we climbed so the snow became deeper, the air thinner and the sun more intense, to the extent that all exposed skin had to be covered to avoid burning. As the temperature touched 36 degrees C, so the snow began to soften and melt, and the going became quite difficult. We were forced to make camp at the base of the Pass as an ascent during late afternoon would have risked danger from avalanches. We pitched camp in waist-deep snow and settled down for a very cold night, slightly apprehensive of the early start necessary to make up time. Temperatures of -15 degrees C guaranteed an uncomfortable night on the by now rock-hard icy base on which our tents had been pitched. Shortly before dawn we broke camp and set off while the snow was sufficiently hard to walk on. The clear morning view was incredible, with the full moon casting a pale blue glow to enhance the dawn streaks over the vivid peaks all around us. The view from the Pass was fantastic; at 4000m it felt like we really were on the roof of the world, and despite the howling gale and frozen sunblock we spent several minutes in awe of our surroundings. The harsh icy-white surroundings were punctuated only by the occasional granite-black rocky outcrop, and the entire scene was set stark against an azure blue sky as far as one could see. We were soon descending and eventually, after a steady slog through melting snow, again under a blistering sun, we crossed the snow line and crashed out on a bed of grass next to a gurgling icy brook. We reached our campsite by late afternoon in the incredibly picturesque Bytor Valley. The summer pasture was ablaze with a carpet of spring flowers, only broken by a winding turquoise glacial stream meandering through the centre. The steep rocky sides rose through pine forests to towering peaks overhead, and the valley culminated 10 km beyond us with an enormous glacier flanked by several spectacular mountain peaks. We soon had a campfire going and spent the evening listening to Anatoly’s stories of commanding T-80 tanks on 3rd Shock Army manoeuvres across East Germany during the Cold War. However, the fact that many of our group had served in West Germany during the same period ensured that the discussion was not entirely one-sided. Despite some nostalgia on all sides about the relative stability and security of “the good old days”, we heartily toasted the benefits of Perestroika and glasnost before departing for our tents and collapsing in exhausted snoring heaps.

The remainder of the trek consisted of a series of radial hikes, with the most spectacular involving a near-vertical ascent to Lake Ala-Kol. The climb from the base of the valley (2400 m) to the Lake (3800 m) represented a rise of 1400 m, roughly equivalent to a complete ascent of Ben Nevis. Indeed, I spent a large portion of the climb without my heels even touching the ground, somewhat similar to ascending an endless flight of steps. In my naivety I had packed a pair of swimming shorts, but having struggled through knee-deep snow for the final 60 minutes of our ascent, I was presented with a frozen Lake to the obvious amusement of the group! The backdrop was, however, spectacular and the bleak, polar landscape was in stark contrast to the fertile valley we had left only four hours prior.

Evenings were typically spent around the campfire, and local Kyrgyz herders pushing their livestock up to the summer pastures for grazing regularly joined us. The craic was memorable, lubricated by the customary vodka and enhanced by the patience of our guides and interpreter in translating the inevitable jokes and tales into Russian, Kyrgyz and English. National Service remains compulsory in Kyrgystan, and we detected a common (depraved!) sense of humour among our ex-army comrades. Indeed, many of our adult jokes were already known to the Kyrgyz lads, and confirmed that a soldier’s humour crosses all boundaries.

After 7 days in the Tien Shan we were all physically tired yet deeply satisfied with the immense variety of trekking we had experienced; from the exceptionally demanding stage over the Archa-Tor Pass to the somewhat less emotional radial hikes from the Karakol Valley. We rendezvoused with the Monster truck, and settled down to a bumpy 3 hour cross-country journey to our next and final destination, the hot springs in the adjacent Arashan Valley. On arrival I was pleasantly surprised to discover a series of sculpted pools within a hamlet of ageing alpine-type wooden huts. We were soon merrily soaking in the hot sulphurous water, re-aquainting our bodies with the delights of soap and shampoo. Refreshed and rejuvenated, our group spent the evening in a communal hut feasting on bread, cheese, Russian sausage and tomatoes. We shared the hamlet with an intrigued group of local schoolchildren, a mixed bag of Slav, Chinese, Mongol and ethnic Kyrgyz, bonded into one laughing vibrant family, complete with holed boots and ripped anoraks. This ethnic diversity is visible throughout the country, yet incidents of ethnic conflict are exceptionally rare and in contrast to my own upbringing in the segregated schooling and chronic sectarianism of Northern Ireland.

Having completed our trek, we spent a lazy weekend in the leafy tranquillity of Karakol. Saturday was eagerly spent transforming a dreary basement restaurant into Central Asia’s newest nightclub through procurement of a chef, a cheap Chinese sound system and a lighting extravaganza of emergency strobe-beacons. This allowed us the chance to return the overwhelming hospitality we had enjoyed, and all our friends were invited to a party of immense proportions. Sunday morning was passed at the famous Karakol weekly horse market, a must on any traveller’s itinerary in the Region. It remains one of the largest and most colourful of its type in Central Asia, and represents both a reliance on a form of transport, and indeed a way of life that have persisted for centuries across this spectacular but harsh landscape.

Having bade a reluctant goodbye to Karakol, we embarked on the 10-hour drive to the Kyrgyz capital of Bishkek. The journey was punctuated by a picnic lunch on the undeveloped sandy shore of Lake Issyk-Kul, followed by a quick swim in the clear, unpolluted and bracing water. Bishkek is a clean, bustling and modern city, whose high-rise office and apartment blocks, pavement cafes and wide boulevards are in stark contrast to the gingerbread houses and leafy pot-holed avenues of 19^th Century Karakol. With a population of 670 000, the City is neither crowded nor polluted, and indeed most of our time in Bishkek was leisurely passed in leafy pavement cafes, watching the City go about its business.

While the aim of our expedition had always been to trek the Tien Shan, it would have been shameful to travel so far without sampling the cultural experience of Central Asia. We allocated a week to some limited sightseeing in Tashkent and Samarkand, and the spectacular sights of the latter more than compensated for the countless days spent in a sweaty, suffocating minibus bumping through potholed desert highways. Indeed, the boredom of desert travel was only relieved by the proliferation of apparently bored policemen scattered along the desert roadsides, who sprung to life at the sight of our transport and gleefully flagged us down with a series of whistles, shouts and waving of hands. Fortunately the experience and streetwise nature of Vladimir (our driver) was sufficient to prevent any extraction of bribes. We assisted him by dismounting en masse and surrounding the perplexed guards in a babbling smiling mass to take photographs and hand out British Army cap-badges. This was predictably too much for the Militsia to handle and, having lost both their self-confidence and the initiative, inevitably resulted in a brusque dismissal from the senior officer present!

Samarkand provided a spectacular ending to our Central Asian experience, and we returned to Tashkent for a final night out in the City’s hotspots. Our group made a successful extraction and, as we thundered out of Central Asia towards Europe and home, our thoughts were united on one issue - the location of our next expedition…

Afternotes:

Our party of 8 travelled to Central Asia from London Heathrow via Istanbul to Almaty (Kazakstan) and departed Tashkent for London with an overnight stopover in Istanbul. The price of the air ticket was ?475 pp (incl taxes) with an additional optional ?20 charge for an overnight stopover in Istanbul. Our flights were booked through the excellent Regent holidays in Bristol (0117 9211711).

Dostuck Trekking (00996-312-427471), a large travel company in Bishkek, hosted us in Kyrgystan. The overall charge was ?200 pp (preferential group rate), although we were sub-contracted out to KRD Tien Shan Travel (00996-374-545455) in Karakol, who offered sterling service and would have charged a much-reduced rate had we dealt with them direct. The ever-smiling and hospitable Sergey Pyshnenko runs a small yet very professional and competent organisation, which is thoroughly recommended by our party. The global Mir Travel Corporation (00998-712-674382 and ask for room #311) in Tashkent sponsored us through Uzbekistan at a cost of ?170 pp, and are another thoroughly professional and well-run organisation.

Russian remains the universal language in Central Asia, and is spoken in varying degrees of fluency by all but the most remote populations. A Russian interpreter is therefore essential for group expeditions. This allows a certain degree of in-country dealing to take place, and also enhances the quality of any trip by providing a medium to access the charming, colourful and thoroughly hospitable people of the region.

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