We flagged down a shared taxi from the old style Soviet bus shelter and continued along a nice smooth highway until Cholpan Ata where the road was being ripped up and widened. Once we arrived at the bus station on the outskirts of Karakol we had a hard time finding a taxi to take us to our guesthouse. It seemed they wanted only passengers going long distances. After flashing some extra money to one guy we were off to the next B & B.
The guesthouse had a beautiful garden and two yurts in it. We booked a double room with an ensuite and found it also has its own lounge for relaxing. Unfortunately the staff forgot to tidy up after the last guest so I had to chase them up. It's hard to believe they forgot. Probably they were busy with their visiting families and renovations.
The guesthouse owner's father's snow leopard coat
The centre pattern of the ceiling is the symbol on the Kyrgyzstan flag.
We looked at doing some hiking in the area but it was a day before you got to the hiking areas and meant guides and horses and guides to take our gear as well as extra long days that we decided against the idea.
Karakol is surrounded by mountains on three sides and has Central Asia's best skiing.
The leather merchants house.
We dined out at a nearby restaurant that had a delicious beef stroganof - a great change from mutton. The staff spoke really good English and were probably students on holidays. They gobbled up the left overs three French diners left on their plates bobbing down below the tables so their boss could not see them. Poor things must have been starving.
When we returned to the guesthouse there was a group of cyclists settling into the yurts. They were from Bishkek and on an eight day trip around Lake Izzy Kol. We couldn't really work out the what the group was promoting but they did stop at some place to teach a group of young people about hygiene. An American Peace Corp young lady had organised the trip. She will be in Kyrgyzstan for two years teaching English in a small village.
They invited us to join them at a bar for a couple of drinks. They were looking for a Russian bar but it was closed and we ended up in a place that had poor service so we all left and found a cafe/bar that made pizza. A percentage of its profits went to local charities.
The grandmother of the group of cyclists
The cyclists had a late start the next day and invited us to join them at the bazaar and try the local dish called arslanfoo. It was a starch noodle and wheat noodle dish with a vinegar sauce and some vegetables all served cold. We also got some pasties called camsa with meat and onions inside.
They were great fun to mix with and now we have a few more Facebook friends.
The area is pretty fertile with fields of potatoes, onions, garlic, and rapeseed. Fields were being mown for hay and bales piled up on old heavy rusting Russian trucks. Even the hay balers are old and rusty but get the job done. Young guys used pitch forks to load the bales in the hot 30+ temperatures.
As we were not hiking in the mountains we spent the time checking out the town but there was not a lot to see. We visited every park. Most had memorials to various wars and war heroes.
The wooden Trinity Cathedral was quite plain inside. It had been turned into a club by the Bolsheviks so its onion towers were knocked down. It was rebuilt in 1991 and church services were recommenced then. A guide brought a couple of Chinese tourists through while we were there. An old man and a dirty dishevelled Slavic man sat out side the gates begging. When John gave the old man some coins the young man staggered after us wanting money, probably for alcohol.
The local museum was interesting. It was housed in an 1887 Russian style house. There were bronze relics from the Scythians, along with tools and musical instruments. The stuffed animals and birds were looking rather scruffy but useful to identify some of the smaller animals we may see at some stage.
The black and white photographic collection by Ella Maillart was very interesting. She travelled through Central Asia in 1932 in her twenties.
The Dungan Mosque was built by Chinese Muslims fleeing China and does not have a single nail in it. No one was about to take our donation to visit and it was not as ornate as other mosques looking more like a Buddhist temple. The Bolsheviks destroyed the other eight mosques so it was lucky to survive and there were several men coming into pray as we were leaving.
The sky greys up in the evenings followed by thunder and lightning but very little rain.
We have managed to finalise the details of our 7 to 8 day trip to Turkmenistan so have paid a deposit for that. Five day transit visas are the only visas issued there unless you do a tour. So to make it worthwhile that is what we have done.
John found a friend in Karakol.
We are moving clockwise around the lake and next stop is Bokonbayevo.
The guesthouse had a beautiful garden and two yurts in it. We booked a double room with an ensuite and found it also has its own lounge for relaxing. Unfortunately the staff forgot to tidy up after the last guest so I had to chase them up. It's hard to believe they forgot. Probably they were busy with their visiting families and renovations.
The guesthouse owner's father's snow leopard coat
The centre pattern of the ceiling is the symbol on the Kyrgyzstan flag.
We looked at doing some hiking in the area but it was a day before you got to the hiking areas and meant guides and horses and guides to take our gear as well as extra long days that we decided against the idea.
Karakol is surrounded by mountains on three sides and has Central Asia's best skiing.
The leather merchants house.
Some of the old wooden houses.
We dined out at a nearby restaurant that had a delicious beef stroganof - a great change from mutton. The staff spoke really good English and were probably students on holidays. They gobbled up the left overs three French diners left on their plates bobbing down below the tables so their boss could not see them. Poor things must have been starving.
When we returned to the guesthouse there was a group of cyclists settling into the yurts. They were from Bishkek and on an eight day trip around Lake Izzy Kol. We couldn't really work out the what the group was promoting but they did stop at some place to teach a group of young people about hygiene. An American Peace Corp young lady had organised the trip. She will be in Kyrgyzstan for two years teaching English in a small village.
They invited us to join them at a bar for a couple of drinks. They were looking for a Russian bar but it was closed and we ended up in a place that had poor service so we all left and found a cafe/bar that made pizza. A percentage of its profits went to local charities.
The grandmother of the group of cyclistsThe cyclists had a late start the next day and invited us to join them at the bazaar and try the local dish called arslanfoo. It was a starch noodle and wheat noodle dish with a vinegar sauce and some vegetables all served cold. We also got some pasties called camsa with meat and onions inside.
They were great fun to mix with and now we have a few more Facebook friends.
The area is pretty fertile with fields of potatoes, onions, garlic, and rapeseed. Fields were being mown for hay and bales piled up on old heavy rusting Russian trucks. Even the hay balers are old and rusty but get the job done. Young guys used pitch forks to load the bales in the hot 30+ temperatures.
As we were not hiking in the mountains we spent the time checking out the town but there was not a lot to see. We visited every park. Most had memorials to various wars and war heroes.
The wooden Trinity Cathedral was quite plain inside. It had been turned into a club by the Bolsheviks so its onion towers were knocked down. It was rebuilt in 1991 and church services were recommenced then. A guide brought a couple of Chinese tourists through while we were there. An old man and a dirty dishevelled Slavic man sat out side the gates begging. When John gave the old man some coins the young man staggered after us wanting money, probably for alcohol.
The local museum was interesting. It was housed in an 1887 Russian style house. There were bronze relics from the Scythians, along with tools and musical instruments. The stuffed animals and birds were looking rather scruffy but useful to identify some of the smaller animals we may see at some stage.
The black and white photographic collection by Ella Maillart was very interesting. She travelled through Central Asia in 1932 in her twenties.
The Dungan Mosque was built by Chinese Muslims fleeing China and does not have a single nail in it. No one was about to take our donation to visit and it was not as ornate as other mosques looking more like a Buddhist temple. The Bolsheviks destroyed the other eight mosques so it was lucky to survive and there were several men coming into pray as we were leaving.
The sky greys up in the evenings followed by thunder and lightning but very little rain.
We have managed to finalise the details of our 7 to 8 day trip to Turkmenistan so have paid a deposit for that. Five day transit visas are the only visas issued there unless you do a tour. So to make it worthwhile that is what we have done.
John found a friend in Karakol.
We are moving clockwise around the lake and next stop is Bokonbayevo.
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