The high wind took a toll on our yurt during the night. One of the roof struts fell down ~0230 and two others had shifted position. I then lay awake scrutinising the remaining struts planning what I’d do if the yurt collapsed. Of course it didn’t, but it wasn't my most peaceful night’s sleep. (You can see the broken strut on the floor if you look carefully).
It was time to say farewell to Song Kul and its delightful drop toilets. There was an external nail for wedging the door closed when it wasn't not in use, otherwise the wind would whip the corrugated door off. Breakfast was great - buckwheat and vegetables washed down with black coffee.
We left the yurt camp at 0830 and headed towards Naryn via the Teskey-Torpok Pass. A cute boy flagged us down and asked for sweets. This was a lure to get us to buy their kymyz, fermented mare's milk. Yusup and Timur knew the score and were pleased to pick up a bottle for the journey.
We passed through Dartmoor-esque terrain as we ascended to top of the pass.
What a view! And what a road… We descended the 33 twists and turns and I started to feel sick.
We stopped at the base to visit Torpor waterfall. I was feeling grim and unsteady on my feet.
We headed off again and, again fortuitously, stumbled on another traditional event. The village was celebrating preparations for the World Nomad Games. It was well organised with the police on traffic control.
I took a pictures but mainly sat in the shelter of a yurt trying to wish myself better. The clothing worn was wonderful. JC drank some local milk with salt (it might have been kymyz).
Songs were sung and the köökör, a traditional Kyrgyz leather vessel handcrafted to store and carry kymyz (their equivalent of the Olympic torch), was handed over. The horsemen were waved off by the women and children. See here.
We arrived in Naryn at 1330, found a restaurant but I couldn’t face anything except sweet tea. JC had a massive pizza which he only got half through - he looks defeated already here but made a galant effort.
I bought lunch in supermarket, skittles - I know I'm poorly when I crave sugar. We also picked up the bread for the yurt camp - it makes sense for them to ask guests to collect fresh supplies whilst passing through.
It was ~150 km to our destination, but the tarmac ran out ~25 km in and then it was bump and jolt along a dirt track. By this stage I was lying across the back seat and then I wasn’t, I was outside chucking. “Better out than in,” as they say.
The next 100 km were no fun but I wasn’t sick again. Occasionally we’d stop so JC could take a photo but I could hardly lift my head off the seat.
We passed a police check point as, to enter this zone, you need a permit. It is close to China and for some reason this is a designated ‘neutral zone’. We arrived at the yurt camp 1845 and I dived into a bed. JC dragged me out to have sweet tea at supper time but I couldn’t face food. I slept forever.
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