Monday, 14 September 2026

 

Start: Hotel Bishkek (KY) 14:30

Arrival: Hotel Bishkek (KY) 20:30

 

Total: ca 4 km walking

 

 

This morning at breakfast, we met some interesting people from our neighbouring country Germany. Two friends, travelling the world expressly to see football games. Apparently, that's a thing. One of them has been to football games in over 100 countries! They have Luxembourg under their belt already, of course. Low hanging fruit, as they so aptly put it. I am a big fan of seeing niche things abroad, instead of just ticking off UNESCO heritage sites. A football game in Bishkek - I can get behind that idea. I hope they'll get in touch if they ever visit Luxembourg again. Might be a good occasion to patronize a local football match for once too. In any case, it was wonderful to have a normal chatty conversation with someone other than Sonia in a language that both parties know well. Didn't have many of those these last five weeks.

 

Our hotel is about 3 km from the centre of town. Not far, but too far if you (meaning me) don't want to arrive at the start of your "explorations" already all tired and footsore. So we called a YandexGo cab hoping to alight fresh as a daisy in Ala Too Square.

 

 

Our cab driver spoke very good English. He even correctly identified our speech as "some kind of German" when he heard us talk to each other. He didn't seem too impressed by his own country though. "Why did you come to Bishkek? There is nothing to see here. Uzbekistan is much nicer." At least he conceded that nature outside the capital was impressive. He also assured us that every major gas station had 95 petrol, though the quality might not be as good as in Europe. No shortages anymore, even outside the capital, according to him. Let's hope he knows what he's talking about.

 

After a mere six-minute drive, we arrived at our destination. Ala Too square was impressive enough in our book. (Disclaimer: Though the video seems to show otherwise, my sister was not run over by a biker in the making of this clip.) A huge square with fountains, lined by tall buildings and cut in two by a large avenue. A cute snow leopard mascot announced the 2026 World Nomad Games which had taken place in Kyrgyzstan last week. Sonia had watched some of it on TV in Kazakhstan, "grown men on horses fighting for a goat carcass and throwing it into a goal", as she had summarized it for me. Kyrgyzstan actually brought home most medals this year. Kudos to our host country.

 

 

On one end of the square stands a statue of Chingiz Aitmatov, the best known Kyrgyz author, who even lived a short while in Luxembourg in the 1990s, as ambassador for his country. I wrote an article about him a few years ago.

 

On the far side of Ala Too square, a huge statue of Manas rises into the sky. Sonia told me about the Epos of Manas only yesterday: the longest epos in the world, it took shape in the 19th century and recounts the exploits of the legendary Kyrgyz leader Manas who is said to have defeated the Mongols in the East, the Persians in the West, and married a princess of each empire to keep the peace. Impressive bloke. In any case, his statue stands in front of the State History Museum and an impossibly high flag waves next to it, protected by two human guards.

 

 

The afternoon sun was relentless and shady spots were far and few between, so we dialled up the pace and headed towards nearby Chingiz Aitmatov Park. On the way, we found a statue of a hottie who bore an uncanny resemblance (as far as I remember him) to our local drug boss two days ago. An ancestor maybe? If so, it's an illustrious one: Bishkek Kenen uluu (Bishkek, son of Kenen) was a famous Kyrgyz baatyr, a heroic warrior, who united the local tribes into one nation and gave this city its name. Or so legend tells us.

 

So many brave men, and so little shade to contemplate their august deeds. 32 degrees in the non-existent shade. All around us, only dusty gravel and earth.

 

 

When we reached the park at last, I fell onto the first bench and breathed a sigh of relief. The park functions as an open air museum of statues, and those could be admired just fine from a sitting position. Since the mid 1980s, sculptors have added almost 100 statues under the theme "Labor and Peace" to the place.

 

 

Many looked like figures out of a legend or story, and I would have loved to read a short explanation to each work. Even just a short title would have helped to guide the imagination. As it was, my fantasy did all the heavy lifting by itself. Entire new fairy tales and whole epics could be invented by gazing at these wise men holding books, the hunks lifting stones and women protecting their young ones. All from the safety of an, admittedly not very comfy, park bench.

 

Sonia meanwhile had found a watering hole on Yandex Maps. And not just any! At the other end of the park, a Paul beckoned. Yes, the exact same French bakery that we also have in Luxembourg. A quiet, stylish, air-conditioned place with crêpes (meaning blini with a 200% French-name tax) and fresh juices. You guessed right, we went in and spent the next hour discussing our options.

 

 

We had actually seen most of the obvious tourist places here in the area. There was a children's library nearby, maybe pass by there? A GUM and a TSUM, both certainly not as stylish as their Moscow equivalent. Hands-on experience has told us that the Moscow GUM is in a league of its own. Couldn't hurt to double-check though. West of the TSUM, there were numerous restaurants. It was after five now, so might as well start thinking about dinner.

 

Next to our Paul was the National Drama Theatre with a picture of Chingiz Aitmatov and a famous quote by the man. He seems to be as ubiquitous in Kyrgyzstan as Pushkin in Russia. The entrance to the theatre was cordoned off by the umpteenth roadworks we had seen today. Plumes of dust obscured the vision. We fled into the childrens' library. I don't know what I had expected, but the entrance hall was rather sparse. A few display cases with random childrens' books from around the world. Each case was named after a country, but the books inside did often not correspond. Odd.

 

 

Back on the main street, I pulled up my scarf to cover my nose. "I'm breathing in more dust than air. I can't stay in this place." Where to go? We almost ran towards a spot of green in the distance. A long water fountain, cleaning and cooling the air! The benches were all taken, so I flopped down right next to the water, there to remain until my lungs had soaked up enough moisture to clean themselves. Sonia meanwhile studied the map. "Are you sure you want to go up to the TSUM? We could go back down past Paul, it would be faster." I shook my head. We'd seen so little of Bishkek, only some parks and large squares. The least we could do, was walk past the TSUM. I said, in my ignorance of things to come.

 

The road to hell, it is said, is full of good intentions. Well, the way to the TSUM was full of bad construction sites. Workers with jackhammers tearing up a sidewalk. Idling construction machines belching black smoke. Cracked powdery earth in erstwhile shrubberies, a fine layer of gritty grey dust covering everything, the vision blurry from the clouds of fine powder swirling in the air. And over all this, an unbelievable noise of traffic, construction and blaring syntheziser pop music. "I need to get out of this heat!" I screamed over the din. "I can't breathe!"

 

We fled into the TSUM and landed straight in cellphone hell. That's how Sonia nicknamed the place. The entire ground floor is a hot maze of narrow, crowded stalls selling smartphones, phone cases, batteries, cables, SIM cards, a bustling loud hellscape where you can only marvel at how many brands of phones there are, how many people in this city want to buy the exact same thing right this moment. A place where people go after death who have stared too often at their phones instead of talking to their partners, friends, kids. I spotted a neon sign: Vykhod. Salvation! We stumbled back onto the street, into the next construction site. By now I agreed with our cabbie: What the hell were we doing in Bishkek?

 

We didn't feel like taking any more pics. We saw that the terrace of the Hyatt Hotel sprayed water vapour on their guests, made a beeline for it, ordered a Pornstar Martini (my first cocktail on this trip!), were told once more that, sorry no, plov was on their menu but not actually in their kitchen, ate an oversalted monster salmon trout, called a YandexGo, feared for our lives while the cabbie tried to simultaneously figure out the way on his phone and break every traffic rule ever invented, stumbled into our hotel room, tried to get the grime off our skins and lungs, updated this blog, set the alarm clock for an early start to Issyk Kul and fell asleep. The end.