Life is so easy when the hostel owners can ring taxi companies they know well. It means the price is set when you are picked up and you know you are not going to be ripped off. The taxi that arrived fr us was driven by a fair-skinned long-haired women and that surprised the hostel receptionist. Although she didn't speak English we had no problems communicating and she was a careful calm driver. It would be nice to have more like her.
When we arrived at the bus station we were the last two people to fill up the marshrutka 18 seater. The minivan driver tried to make an Israeli couple move to the back of the bus to fit in a woman and her two children but they refused. It would have meant an uncomfortable back seat ride for the tourists which they obviously wanted to avoid. The driver's assistant then had to move from the front to the back so the woman could fit with her children.
John ended up in the back seat and chatted in broken English to a Ukrainian man and the assistant. The discussions were about rugby.
We passed through Balykchy and then got off at Tamchy. We chose this lakeside town as it was on the water whereas some of the other places on the lake are set back. We had sent an email to the Community Based Tourism (CBT) office to book into a guest house in Tamchy and called them and were assured someone would be at the office. Alas the office was locked and only taxi drivers were hovering around in the shade. We phoned again and someone who didn't speak English hung up. A few minutes later a young English speaking girl rang back and then two cars turned up for us. One car had two men and the other had an elderly woman and her grandchild. None of them spoke English but we got in with the men anyway and headed off encouraged by their "daughter English" reassurances.
We were shown our room. It was a huge room that looked like it served as the family dining room but two single beds were made up along one wall. Assured we were not going to have to move out when meals were served we decided to stay on although young Connie said she would find us another place if it did not suit.
As is custom here, we were ushered outside to a covered area where we were served tea and small cakes. A Swedish man and his son and daughter who had also just arrived and were enjoying tea too.
CBT is a programme where families who are approved by the programme can host tourists. It is a great way to get extra income for families. There are certain requirements that each place must have. We are not sure what they are though.
Tamchy is a small dusty place on Lake Issy Kol. The lake is the world's second largest alpine lake after Titicaca. It is 170 kms long by 70 kms wide. It never freezes as it is very very deep, has mild salinity and thermal activity. The water temperature is about 19C, and much like our summer sea temperatures.
Connie spoke wonderful English that she had learnt at the local school. Her older sister was married and lived nearby but she was needed to support her parents run the B & B. As well as rooms for tourists they had about 6 other rooms in a separate building for local Kyrgyz people. Although Connie was busy cooking and cleaning while we were there she said she does nothing in the winter.
The property was huge with apple, cherry, apricot, pear and currant bushes. The front garden was full of roses which seem to be the most favoured garden flower.
We spend time on the sandy beach watching the locals at play and walking around the streets. A jet ski towed a huge sea biscuit up and down with screaming folk and a boat towed groups around on a yellow banana inflatable tipping them off when he turned causing more shrieking and squealing.
Others peddled their paddle boats loaded with as many as they could fit on.
All along the side of the street and along the beach were small shops. Some were already stocked with plastic blow up toys, vodka, food and clothing while others were being painted and repaired. It looked like every family in town owned one of these stalls there were so many. They varied from being made of adapted shipping containers to bits of pvc vinyl advertising banners. While some sold food, the rest mostly sold all the same products. We felt like we were too early in the season to really see the place in full swing.
A large partly completed tower stood out as being most out of place. The locals called it the castle. We asked Connie about it and she said the owner was from Kazakhstan and had five wives. He was killed in the castle and now the property that he designed to be a hotel is the family residence for his fifth wife.
The writing says the castle is waiting for guests
Connie and her mum were great cooks and there was always loads of food. Every meal must have bread and cucumber and tomato.
There was no internet but we were able to tether our phone to our netbook and catch up on messages from a lady in Turkmenistan whom we are organising a tour through. A tour is the only way we can get longer than a five day transit visa to the country.
We could have sat up on this platform but find it more comfortable on a sofa.
In the evening we found a not so dusty bar to have a glass of draught beer before dinner.
The old mosaic Soviet style bus stop on the main street where had to flag down a minivan going to Karakol.
Next stop Karakol, Kyrgyzstan
When we arrived at the bus station we were the last two people to fill up the marshrutka 18 seater. The minivan driver tried to make an Israeli couple move to the back of the bus to fit in a woman and her two children but they refused. It would have meant an uncomfortable back seat ride for the tourists which they obviously wanted to avoid. The driver's assistant then had to move from the front to the back so the woman could fit with her children.
John ended up in the back seat and chatted in broken English to a Ukrainian man and the assistant. The discussions were about rugby.
We passed through Balykchy and then got off at Tamchy. We chose this lakeside town as it was on the water whereas some of the other places on the lake are set back. We had sent an email to the Community Based Tourism (CBT) office to book into a guest house in Tamchy and called them and were assured someone would be at the office. Alas the office was locked and only taxi drivers were hovering around in the shade. We phoned again and someone who didn't speak English hung up. A few minutes later a young English speaking girl rang back and then two cars turned up for us. One car had two men and the other had an elderly woman and her grandchild. None of them spoke English but we got in with the men anyway and headed off encouraged by their "daughter English" reassurances.
We were shown our room. It was a huge room that looked like it served as the family dining room but two single beds were made up along one wall. Assured we were not going to have to move out when meals were served we decided to stay on although young Connie said she would find us another place if it did not suit.
As is custom here, we were ushered outside to a covered area where we were served tea and small cakes. A Swedish man and his son and daughter who had also just arrived and were enjoying tea too.
CBT is a programme where families who are approved by the programme can host tourists. It is a great way to get extra income for families. There are certain requirements that each place must have. We are not sure what they are though.
Tamchy is a small dusty place on Lake Issy Kol. The lake is the world's second largest alpine lake after Titicaca. It is 170 kms long by 70 kms wide. It never freezes as it is very very deep, has mild salinity and thermal activity. The water temperature is about 19C, and much like our summer sea temperatures.
Connie spoke wonderful English that she had learnt at the local school. Her older sister was married and lived nearby but she was needed to support her parents run the B & B. As well as rooms for tourists they had about 6 other rooms in a separate building for local Kyrgyz people. Although Connie was busy cooking and cleaning while we were there she said she does nothing in the winter.
The property was huge with apple, cherry, apricot, pear and currant bushes. The front garden was full of roses which seem to be the most favoured garden flower.
We spend time on the sandy beach watching the locals at play and walking around the streets. A jet ski towed a huge sea biscuit up and down with screaming folk and a boat towed groups around on a yellow banana inflatable tipping them off when he turned causing more shrieking and squealing.
Others peddled their paddle boats loaded with as many as they could fit on.
All along the side of the street and along the beach were small shops. Some were already stocked with plastic blow up toys, vodka, food and clothing while others were being painted and repaired. It looked like every family in town owned one of these stalls there were so many. They varied from being made of adapted shipping containers to bits of pvc vinyl advertising banners. While some sold food, the rest mostly sold all the same products. We felt like we were too early in the season to really see the place in full swing.
A large partly completed tower stood out as being most out of place. The locals called it the castle. We asked Connie about it and she said the owner was from Kazakhstan and had five wives. He was killed in the castle and now the property that he designed to be a hotel is the family residence for his fifth wife.
Connie and her mum were great cooks and there was always loads of food. Every meal must have bread and cucumber and tomato.
There was no internet but we were able to tether our phone to our netbook and catch up on messages from a lady in Turkmenistan whom we are organising a tour through. A tour is the only way we can get longer than a five day transit visa to the country.
We could have sat up on this platform but find it more comfortable on a sofa.
In the evening we found a not so dusty bar to have a glass of draught beer before dinner.
The old mosaic Soviet style bus stop on the main street where had to flag down a minivan going to Karakol.
Next stop Karakol, Kyrgyzstan
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