It's a bit chilly in the yurt in the morning, but thanks to the stove and the duvet, we didn't feel the cold at all.
For comparison, nights in a tent in Southern Africa are much frostier than nights in a yurt in Kyrgyzstan.
During the months of June, July, and August, of course!
Rain has been pouring down on the lake since we went to bed, the ground is soaked, the sky is overcast, and the sun is nowhere to be seen.
Luckily, there's no fog.
After breakfast is served, we head back on the road toward the west shore of the lake.
The condition of the track isn’t great at all—we really don’t want to get stuck.
So we turn back to the junction for the Moldo-Ashuu Pass, a pass located at 3,346 meters above sea level.
The clouds block the view, and we start descending, hoping for a break in the weather.
A break that never really comes...
What if we stopped over there?
The view looks a bit clearer!
We’re not the only ones who’ve spotted the place—two Kyrgyz families out for a walk have also stopped.
They quickly ask us where we’re from and then ask if they can take photos with us and their family.
A meal is then offered to us, but we decline, saying we’ve just had breakfast and aren’t hungry at all.
We do, however, politely accept a muffin, but we can’t escape before trying *kurut*, that dried fermented cheese with a very strong flavor!
Not bad at all. Too bad it’s not on the tables in guesthouses instead of those weirdly colored cookies that have been sitting there since who knows when...
I forgot to mention this little detail!
When you sit down for dinner or breakfast, the table is covered with kitschy cake stands full of stuff that’s usually unidentifiable.
Rock-hard things in all colors that are supposedly chocolates, pink twists, salty? sweet? biscuits, peanuts, walnuts, raisins...
Champagne coupes and cocktail glasses are used as jam jars, and everything is usually covered with a mosquito net to keep all that food from becoming an all-you-can-eat buffet for flies.
Very appetizing...
But let’s get back to our story!
The road gives way to hairpin turns, and the weather improves a bit.
We spot a small herd in the distance but struggle to tell what kind of animals they are.
We never would’ve imagined coming across camels!
We hit the tarmac again near Jangy-Talap, a village where we’ll be staying in a few days.
Unfortunately, a little further on, the Chinese are at work again, and the RAV4 will be covered in dust all the way to Naryn...
35 kilometers later, we park in front of the lovely hotel we booked in the village of Tash-Bashat and finally take a nice shower.
We stroll through the village, a rural place like many others where the winds of modernity have only reached a few satellite dishes and internet top-up sellers.
Back at our lodging, we notice a fleet of numbered 4x4s has taken over the entire parking lot.
Looks like we won’t be alone at dinner tonight...
The owner then comes to tell us there’s a little get-together planned for the group, one that shouldn’t go past 10:30 PM.
Now I understand why he suggested, a few days earlier, that I change my booking date...
I’m a little worried, but when I see the group’s average age is much closer to 80 than 30, I feel a lot more at ease.
Looking at them, I wonder who’s driving each 4x4. They seem more like they’re heading into a retirement home than being spry sixty-somethings...
I also wonder what’s fun about following a dozen other vehicles on a track, with the ones at the back only seeing the dust cloud kicked up by the ones in front...
Maybe they picture themselves as participants in the last Paris-Dakar (a pretty ridiculous name these days, by the way...)?
To each their own, but I’m noting down the agency’s name so I never sign up with them!
The dinner will be good—a well-cooked *plov* this time!
And the decor is more appealing than those same old tired-looking snacks...
As for the evening, I didn’t hear a thing.
Long live noise-canceling headphones and a good book!
Around 10:00 PM, my partner taps my shoulder and signals for me to take them off.
They’ve been gone for at least 10 minutes!
And apart from one song, the noise from the common room was actually just conversations...
