Travellive 7 - 2018

Here come the golden blooming
sunflowers sway under the sun. And
the horses, graceful and brave, gallop
on the vast green prairie, their toned
muscles throb under their silken
brown skin, their hooves thump
louder and louder. Perhaps it is
because my zodiac sign is the horse;
I was always touched by such images,
these eloquent demonstrations of the
free life we all pursue.
MEET-UP WITH A
"CRAZIER" BIKER
On our way to Osh
- the second largest
city after the capital
Bishkek, in southern
Kyrgyzstan - we
met a South Korean boy riding in the
opposite direction with the intention
to be the the first Korean to conquer
the plateau of Pamir (Tajikistan) on
a Brompton folding bike. With the
memories of our troubles on Pamir
Street fresh in our hearts, we looked
at him with rolling eyes, quietly
thinking, "What a weird idea! Has he
got enough strength? Maybe he will
have to push harder on that bike"...
Now you see, when people listen to
any of your ideas they think you are
crazy (as we often heard about our
own bike riding plan). It's good to
know that there is always someone
crazier than you out there...
We always ask the caravan to
send greetings and necessary text
messages to those pedaling behind
us, and sometimes we get news from
our friends ahead of us. In the 21 st
century, this way of communication
is still very useful and effective, in
part because of the cohesive and
friendly community developed by the
road bikers. Thanks to this form of
communication, once we arrived in
Osh, we went to the Baiana homestay
- a place almost exclusively for
pedestrians where the backyard has
been turned into a garage, the kitchen
requisitioned for eaters focused on
their bowls of salad, where green
vegetables trays and fruit baskets are
set out for the weeks ahead.
Jalal-Abad, the third largest city, is
about two days of biking from Osh.
When we arrived, tired from the
dangers of the Kyrgyz street thugs,
we decided to leave the smooth large
road for the smaller bumpier one.
As planned, we crossed Kazarman
and reached Song-Kul Lake, before
stopping at Kara-Koo on the famous
Issyk Kul lake. In order to avoid the
cars and trucks from nearly hitting
us at 20 cm away, we had to create
our own "weapon": we attached a
long stick behind the bike creating
a necessary distance of safety, then
we tied a brilliant colored rope with
a small rock at the end. Strangely,
it was the little stone that made the
drivers less "aggressive" when they
passed us.
Aside from the drivers, most Kyrgyz
people, though not as warm-hearted
as the Turks or Uzbeks, are quite
hospitable. Even when we chose
quiet places to set our tent up, we
still received bottles of hot freshly
squeezed milk, bread, cheeses and
fruits. They were mostly brought by
the children; each of them defined
by their distinctive characteristics:
decayed teeth, sunburns, naughtiness
or shyness... but all of them had a
similar look with their muddy faces
and bright eyes and each were sent by
their parents to bring us presents.
At times, we asked to pitch our tent
in the backyards of families. To our
surprise, we would receive sudden
refusals: "Why do you want to put the
tent in the yard when you can sleep in
86
TRAVELLIVE