Tuesday, 15 September 2026

 

Start: Bishkek (KY) 10:30

Arrival: Chon-Sary-Oy (KY) 19:00

 

Total: 273 km

 

 

Our cabbie from yesterday was right: The highlights of Kyrgyzstan are its landscapes, and they are truly amazing! Once we had left the traffic chaos of Bishkek behind, we sped through green valleys and undulating hills, with distant high mountains as a backdrop. We had avoided the chokepoint to the north of Bishkek, so today's entire trip was smooth stressfree driving on good streets. Unexpectedly, there was a brand new dual carriage way all the way to Issyk Kul. Another welcome surprise: the cab driver had also been right about the petrol situation: most gas stations on the way - and there were many - had 95 on offer. It was twice as expensive as in Kazakhstan and Russia, but at least it was available, and compared to prices back home, 110 som (1.2 euros) is still cheap.

 

After about two hours, we left the highway and drove through a small town. Other than a minor traffic jam, there were no noteworthy incidents. After we had left the cows behind, a paved country lane brought us to the site we meant to visit today: Burana Tower. There had been no signs at all announcing it on the road, so we wondered whether it was even worth it. But an American bus group got there about the same time as us, and when we left, a Chinese tour group arrived, so the place is not really a secret. In fact, it is a UNESCO Heritage site, as a panel announced at the gate. Well, how about that!

 

 

Today, we were prepared for the sun: after an in-depth search, we had finally found our umbrellas in the chaos that was our luggage. Here's me posing at a churning mountain rivulet, flowers to my feet, wind in my face.

 

It was actually pleasantly cool here. Burana Tower stands forlorn in a windswept valley that a thousand years ago was a bustling city on the Silk Road: Balasagun, the capital of the Turkic Kara-Khanid Khanate. The 24-metre high tower, a former minaret, is the only building still standing. Sic transit gloria mundi.

 

 

The tower can be visited, and when we came nearer, there were actually people standing on the roof. The building seemed to sport only one single, tiny window. Hm. When we reached the stairs leading up to the door, I asked an American lady coming down whether there was anything of interest inside, other than the view from the roof. She complained that there had not even been a light in there, apparently they had used their phones to climb the steps. And no, no exhibits inside. That settled it. The outside view would do just fine for us.

 

To the right of the tower, there is a large mound covered in grass and sand, where once the town citadel stood. Some people clambered up, only to have a really hard time getting down again. It looked pretty steep. Sonia and I thought back to the Celtic and Viking mounds we'd clambered up and down in Britain and Scandinavia in our time. "You want to go up?" Sonia asked. I shook my head. No mound slides for me right now, thank you.

 

 

Behind the mound stretched a wide field covered in balbals. We had already seen these stones in the form of human heads in the museum of folk music in Almaty. These specific balbals, carved by Turkic tribes as talismans, were collected from a large area and put here as open museum exhibits.

 

 

We walked around the entire field. The sun had disappeared behind large clouds, so no need for the umbrella after all, but the wind was quite annoying, so I tied my scarf as tight around my ears as possible. "Wow, look at those mountains", Sonia said. What mountains? I turned around and looked back toward the tower. Wow indeed! Behind the tower, the high mountain range of the Tian Shan climbed up in several rungs, all the way into the dark clouds. It was almost as if thunder were lightening up the sky in the very far distance. Or maybe it was the sun's rays playing tricks on the eyes.

 

 

Back at the entrance, we discovered a yurt showing what the inside of such a dwelling might have been like in former times. A large world map indicated where Burana Tower was located. For all intents and purposes, we were slap bang in the centre of Asia. We really did come a long way. I took a picture of it and if you look close enough, you might spot a familiar nomad lady on the left. Sadly, her family has rather empty looking faces! LOL

 

 

Before leaving, we once again washed the windows of our car. That water-spraying construction machine had really made a mess! Clean once more, we headed back towards the highway. Or not. "Why are we driving on a road parallel to the dual carriageway over there?" I asked Sonia. "Yandex Maps recommended this route", my sister said, frowning, "maybe it's not open yet?" There were only about a hundred cars on it right this moment! In the end, we were happy to be on the scenic route, though. It was in good condition (I will stop mentioning that now. From here on, consider the roads in good condition unless indicated otherwise by me, possibly through a rant) and the views were simply amazing!

 

 

First, we were climbing up into the hills, then down in long leisurely winding slopes, through wide canyons, mountains rising to the left and right, each curve opening up more canyons and mountain ranges, seemingly endlessly into the distance. "I could go on driving like this forever", I enthused, "on and on all the way to China." "Forever? In 5 hours we can be in China", Sonia reminded me. And indeed we could be, because as Luxembourgers, we don't even need a visa to cross the border to China. But it's a bit of a hassle to import a car, so we'll skip China for now.

 

We stopped once to try and capture the grandeur of the Western Tian Shan mountains, but I don't think a picture can do it justice. A video conveys at least part of its awe-inspiring majesty.

 

 

 

 

Balykchy is a rather large town on the westernmost end of lake Issyk Kul. A shotgun street lined with extravagant street lights and distracting videos vaunting the beauties of Issyk Kul led through. What kind of city administration puts scores of screens running the same video along the side of the street? An accident waiting to happen. Anyway, we made a stop in Balykchy to have a bite to eat. We had decided in advance on a restaurant that got good reviews on Google, a place called Muras. The area around it looked, like so much on Lake Issyk Kul, rather unfinished. We gingerly stepped through a gravelly construction site towards the sumptious entrance. When we arrived, the entrance hall was full of wedding guests. Luckily, the wedding dinner took place upstairs, and we were able to have a quiet dinner in their downstairs room.

 

 

After dinner, we drove along Issyk Kul to the small hotel that we had booked. The first look on the lake was impressive. Behind us on the northern shore, the mountains that formed the border between Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan. Only a few days ago, we had seen them from the other side. On the other, far shore of the lake rose even higher mountains. There, somewhere behind the horizon, were the two highest mountains of the Soviet Union: Pik Kommunizma and Pik Pobedi. So awesome to know that we were close to mountains, whose Russian names I had learnt years ago, never daring to hope that I would ever visit that part of the world!

 

I had dreamt of seeing Issyk Kul since reading Chingiz Aitmatov's famous novel To Have And To Lose in German translation. To imagine Asselj walking on this shore, Iljas driving his truck up these mountains! I was over the moon.

 

Everywhere on Lake Issyk Kul, large construction projects are underway. The airport seems almost finished and I imagine that in ten years, it will be nothing unusual to book a one-week holiday with Luxair to Issyk Kul.

 

 

Meanwhile, tourist infrastructure is still rather basic, to put it nicely. The small hotel "Moments" turned out a family affair. It looked dark and empty even though we had mailed them when we would arrive. Sonia went in search of a manager. She soon returned: "There's only an old woman on a kitchen, and she didn't react when I talked to her." Not good. Grumbling, I whatsapped the hotel. The owner called back right away. He was in Germany (!) and his mother managed the place. The catatonic old woman? Just when I hung up, a six-year-old came running to the door. Ah, we were guests? She wanted me to call "Big Jack" to confirm that. The man in Germany? Sighing, I called again, and they talked. Satisfied with our identity, she led us to a very basic motel room. Her mother would come later to collect the money.

 

We looked around the room. It was clean, very new, but rather makeshift. A hole in the ceiling. I peered in: the isolation from above was visible. We tried to get the blackout curtains to stay put, otherwise people from outside could peer in. Sonia almost fell from the loose toilet seat. No towels. No mother collecting money either. I went outside, into the house next door, where the old woman had been. The hallway was full of trash. Upstairs the lights were on. I called out, but no one answered. I returned to our camping room. No free water bottles, no promised wifi either. Ah well, it had only been 30 euros.