Istanbul, the tourist mecca

Due to time consuming procedure to obtain visas for Uzbekistan, we decide to fly from Bishkek to Istanbul. Flying over Caspian Sea, we landed briefly in Kiev, Ukraine, and then on to Istanbul. 7-hour plane ride was nothing compared to 37-hour Chinese bus, however, we did not realize that we were to face new challenges upon arrival.

1. Lost Backpacks: Two backpacks checked in at Bishkek Airport decided to take a trip of their own. When we learned that our baggage were unable to be claimed at the conveyer belt, we visited the Lost & Found to see other bags lined up. Not a good sign. We filed a lost report and were told to be contacted as soon as they turn up. Luckily, they were found and sent to Istanbul Airport the next day, but we ended up spending a half day picking them up. We were later told that bags were left back in Kiev.

2. A popular place to be: Istanbul receives many tourists during the summer. The number of people are overwhelming, especially since we came from quiet Central Asian cities. Brand-new Mercedes Benz buses take over small streets in Sultanahmet, and stylish travelers with a suitcase and a purse wearing heels elegantly step off. The same latest pop remix is blasting from cafe to attract herd of party-goers, and it is everywhere. Visitors seem less friendly, as they are trying to cram their limited time with a full-packed plan with not a minute to spare. There were only little ways to exchange information with others.

3. Friendly Turks: When walking down a street with an Asian appearance, you hear, "Ni hao. Annyeong-haseyo. Konnichiwa", all in one phrase. Theses are the infamous Turk merchants trying to get your attention. We got caught off guard by a carpet salesman on our first day. A man with a smile approached us and before we knew, we were in his small gallery. He started rolling out two dozen carpets onto the floor and asked us to choose one. He then named a price, about USD800, and asked us what we would pay for. After telling him over and over how we have no reference to name a price, he forcefully gave me a new price, now a third of the original. That didn't do much for us as we had no intention of purchasing a rug bigger than our backpack, we told his so again as his facial expression now gloomy and he finally walked out on us in anger ... We can leave now, right?? Although their business tactic does not seem clever, their passion to force you to buy things are more than what we can handle before lunch.

4. Everything is ready for visitors: Tourism being a big part of their economy, the city is made very comfortable for tourists. Maps are handed to you upon your arrival at the airport, and all signs are written in English. Dollars and Euros are accepted as well as their own currency, Lira. Everything from the public transportation to accommodation,  to a park, things are kept very clean and neat, which made us feel like being in an amusement park. Coming from countries where looking for a postcard was a half-day voyage, this type of convenience made the visit less adventurous.

Although I have listed a number of negative experiences, the city has so much to offer, including the deep-rooted history and culture seen from magnificent structures remaining in a great condition, that not coming here would have been a big loss.

But we had to get away from all of this noise. So we booked the bus out towards east as soon as our bags were returned.

Travel quotes

Delicious! Way to go Knorr!
-Sahe, June 6th in Iceland, while having a cup of soup with bread.


Yoshi, you smell like a homeless
-Sahe, July 3rd in Russia, on a platform in Moscow Station


It's like, all of my belongings' homecoming!
-Sahe, August 8th in China, while walking in the city of Urumqi


I smell like a homeless...
-Yoshi, August 25th in Turkey, on a bus from Ankara.

Beer in Kyrgyzstan

Much of alcohol seem to be imported from Russia, so
finding a local beer was not as easy as other countries.
Local people also seemed to drink vodka and cognac
over beer.

Арпа, 11.%, Bishkek

Bikinis and Offiers

With a similar characteristic to the city of Almaty, walking around the capital city Bishkek was not at all appealing. Instead, we decided to take an overnight trip to Cholpon Ata, located north of lake Issyk Kul. The getaway place for locals, the resort is located 4 hours on a minibus ride from the capital, and there nothing that reminds you of beautiful nature the country has to offer. However, with such limited time this was just enough for us to be apart from the city.


We got off the bus full of young Kyrgyz ready to hit the beach, to search for an accommodation. There are many local houses open for accommodation at a reasonable cost. Near the bus terminal elder women will approach you to offer a room, so even during the busy season it is not difficult to find one. We dropped our bags off in a 400 coms (5 usd) cozy room, and first visited the Open Air Petroglyphs Museum near by. Inside a gate, there was a booth-like hut, and rest of the hillside is filled with stones and rocks, some bigger than the shack. Rock drawings, estimated at 4000 years old done by nomads in the area, are not clearly marked and so finding them out of million rocks became a scavenger hunt. Although it was worth seeing animal images depicted several millenniums ago, there are also many graffiti which was a big turn off. We then went to the beach by the lake with a beer in one hand. Water appeared cold as people walked out of it shivering, but there were still many that enjoyed taking a dip, as if they wanted to get most out of their short summer.

The next day, we returned to Bishkek to realize we are short on cash to pay for our accommodation. Because it was Saturday, I decided to go to a luxurious hotel with an ATM to be safe. Worrying about if they would let me in with my rugged t-shirt now in its fourth day, I was approached and stopped by two police officers for an ID. Seeing my passport, they then escorted me to a near-by car with a man inside gesturing me to get inside. I nodded, got inside the backseat but left the door open with my right foot not fully boarded, in case of any necessary stunt action. They might ask for a bribe... What do I do? Would it hurt if I jumped out of a car? Thought at time like this never make any sense.

The man of my age reviewed my passport, and asked about visa and entry date in Russian. He then smiled and gestured that he and I are born on the same year. With my three Russian words, I kept answering his questions. Then he asked, "#%^*$&@ #%^*$&@ narcotics?" Ahh, drugs. No no. I extended my arms out to explain that I understood his question and that I don't abuse. He then asked to see my possession. I was trying to be as cooperative and calm as I can pretend to be, but when he said I was free to go and I stepped out of the door immediately, he stopped me and told me to put away my passport first. That makes sense. As I walked out of the car he called me a Japanese gentleman, but oh no, I just wanted to get way. As I wonder why such things happen when Sahe is not around, I was gracefully greeted at a five-star hotel, and got what I needed. I see the same car standing still on the street as I was walking back, and the man is waving at me as if being an undercover does not mean much. As a gentleman, I lightly vowed as my heart raced back to the guesthouse.

I later learned that there was a demonstration in the center f the city, and many tourists were a targeted to be questioned.

Beer in Kazakhstan

Apparently there are a few beer made here, but for some reason I was not in the mood to drink as much and was not easy to find at local store. Not light, not dark, and it is rather plain. Local red wine Sahe ordered, sweet and served warm was far more interesting.

Белый Медведь

 

No border

In countries previously ruled under a communist party including Kazakhstan, a registration for foreigners are required within 3-5 days of arrival. When arriving by land, all non-Kazakh passport holders are to report to Ministry of Inner Affairs to register, which without it departure may be a hassle. We visited the designated building the day after we arrived, and were told to come back next morning at 10:00. At 9:45, Friday, we arrived the same place to find many people pushing to get to the counter. We somehow got to the officer, received necessary documents, took copies and handed them in. We were then told to come back on Monday at 18:00, which was surprising as we were hoping to get our only IDs back immediately, but if this is the rule then we had to make sure to not cause any problem over the weekend.

A couple of days were enough to walk around the city, and so we spent the weekend by visiting the long-distance bus station in the morning to find an appealing route, hopped on and made ourselves day trips to towns outside of Almaty. A visit to Medeu, a mountainous area south of the city, and a town of Talgar to relax near a river was just enough to get our minds off of Internet.

Forming a line is not a pert of their cul

Without any problem we picked up our passports on Mondsy evening, and we were off to the next destination. Instead of the common route of direct bus to Bishkek, we chose to go to a town of Karakara, east of Almaty to cross the border into Karakol of Kyrgyzstan, then traveling west by lake Issyk Kul, and finally to Bishkek. The direct route will likely take about four hours including the immigration procedure, on the other hand, reaching Karakara will take about the same with our route, so we planned a rough 3-day traveling scheme.

The minibus left the station at half past seven, and is driving through the land on a good pace. People sharing the same ride were very friendly people, and we chatted with hand gesture and three Russian words (I think one of the older lady even invited us to her home), time quickly passed and we arrived our first destination, Kegen by 13:00.

We hitched a car, and were in Karakara 10 minutes later. We then tried to explain that we wanted to cross the border, but he keeps shaking his head with unknown explanation. Soon another car pulled up, and after talking to our driver they drove off and came back with a Chinese girl. She translated to us that the border has been closed for over a year and a half, and after making phonecalls to authority, our only option is to go back to Almaty to take the direct bus. We had no choice, so we went back to Kegen to hitch a car back to Almaty on the same road.

We arrived Almaty exactly 12 hours later of our departure from the same station. With no time to waste, we went to international bus station on the other side of the city, and found a bus to Bishkek leaving at 21:00. The border was open and quiet at this hour, and it took least amount of time to cross, first time by foot. It was 1:30 when we arrived Bishkek, meaning we spent 18 hours to go 200km. Luckily a guesthouse was still open. Even though the spontaneous traveling style can make the experience filled with stories to tell others, the exhausted duo was unable to laugh it off at 2:00 in the morning. And so we only made one plan for the following day; to relax the whole day, and quickly went to sleep.

Kazakhstan and Shikoku, an unknown similarity??

Kazakhstan, the ninth largest country in the world, is one of the most modernized country in Central Asia. Sharing the border with Russia, China, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, and Turkmenistan, the asian country is built on a multiple-cultural back ground. Their independence came right before the fall of Soviet Union, and with its two capitals, old capital Almaty in south and new Astana in north, the great parts of the country still remains untouched with Mongolia-like steppe and Altai mountain range that divides from Kyrgyzstan.

As embarrassing as it is, I knew nothing of this region except it might be a part of Middle East. Many travelers we met on the way has expressed the warm hospitality of people, but I was still unaware of their ethnical and religious background. We arrived Almaty, a capital that remained in power until 14, 15 years ago when it was relocated to Astana. At 22:00, the city was already dark and quiet, and nothing resembled its urbanized city. We rolled into a motel, not cheap coming from China, and began exploring the city the next day.

 

 

 

 

Since the country is located north of Central Asia, there are many Russian descents living in Almaty. Color of hair and skin tones come in various shades, with some facial features even extends out to Mongolian, Turkic, and interracial. Differences of racial groups were much visible in Urumqi, China, with appearance and location clearly separated from one another, but in Almaty, it seems more subtle, and in a way almost too bland to find traits of an important role it had once played on what is later known as Silk Road.

 

 

 

Rumors were right nonetheless; people are openly friendly. Ordering meal or finding a right bus stop, they are capable of patiently assisting us. Some travelers were even invited into home for food and a bed. This type of hospitality reminded me of Shikoku region in Japan. About three years ago I visited Tokushima, a prefecture in Shikoku Island. We were welcomed by an unforgettable hospitality, and later learned that this kind of giving spirit comes from hosting travelers on Ohenro-Junrei, a walking tour of visiting 88 temples, over 1,200km throughout the 4th largest island in a course of 50 days.

 

 

With this in mind, I soon assumed that people's kindness may have come from hosting travelers on a long journey from west and east. There is no way of proving this with such small knowledge I have about the culture, nonetheless, such selfless deeds which were not seen in any other places visited so far became one of the memorable encounters.

Beer in China

When comparing Tsingtao with other brands, it is clear that the most well known beer lacks flavor. I had Wusu from Urumqi the most, but it is often served warmer than hoped.


I still drank them anyway.

青島啤酒, lager, 3.3%, 青島(Tsingtao)

黄河啤酒, 3.3%, 兰州市(Lan Zhou)

乌苏啤酒, 4.0%, 乌鲁木齐市(Urumqi)

Finally a comfortable bus ride

we arrived the international bus terminal an hour and a half before the departure, and checked our tickets over and over again to look for the right terminal. Although we made sure to book a sleeper bus, our previous bus experience in China tells us not to expect any comfort until we are on it. All bags are scanned and the bus was pointed out by a conductor. So this is what a sleeper bus looks like...

Capacity of comfortable 28 passengers. One bed per person. This assured us a relaxing 24-hour ride to Almaty. We had another surprise when an English man we met in Ulaanbaatar also hopped on the bus; a nice reunion. The bus was only 30 minutes late when pulled out of the terminal at 19:30, and headed into the sunset. Our stay in China added to Short 10 days, of which we spent 4 full days traveling across. It was hectic but had just enough time to see the depth of culture, kindness of people, and delicious food, which made me promise myself to come back again in the future to learn more.

Are we that local?

There is a question often asked when traveling; where are you from? As we spend most of days outdoor, I am thoroughly tanned, disguising my identity as a thin, pale Japanese man. while in Mongolia, locals more than often came to me with their native tongue, and when I shake my head as I point at myself and say "Japon", they continue to speak in Mongolian as if to say I am lying. I tilt my head with an uncomprehending expression, they would then say "ahh, yakuza"... No one really believes where I am from here in China either, and popular assumption is often Korean and Mongolian. The most unusual was when I was called a Himalayan in Iceland.

Sahe is usually mistaken by Chinese locals that she is one of them, or Tiwanese. However, this misunderstanding is usually followed by "because your Chinese is excellent", so it's a good thing, unlike mine. In a town of Shan Shan we went to get a room in a motel turned out to be not available for a foreigner, the clerk told Sahe they have a room available but asked who the man standing next to her is. I guess I don't pass as one of them.

Lost in a desert

Being the world's most inland city, Urumqi (乌鲁木齐) as the capital of Xin Jiang (新疆) is one of the most diversed region in China. Back in the day, Nomads spread out and eventually settled in oasis surrounding Taklamakan Desert, becoming important rest areas on what is later known as Silk Road. The area eventually became East Turkistan as it developed with rich mixture of culture, but its history is filled with battles and fights over its independence and conquerance against neighboring countries. There are over 40 ethnic groups mingled in the area, including Han, Uyghur, Kazakhs, Kyrgys, Türkics, Mongols,  and Russians, and turning into a small street in Urumqi can make you wonder whether you are really in China or not.

We were planning on visiting Hotan (和田) and Kashgar (喀什), cities in southern Xin Jiang, known for their important roles on Silk Road check points; cities where Uyghurs culture and history are alive. However, unfortunate incidents took place in both cities in late July, and after discussing about the safety in these area with local people, we decided not to go. For us foreigners, it is not easy to understand the depth and the complexity of such ethnic and religious conflicts. The best we can do is to stay away and not get involved.

Riot patrol in action

 

Having to rewrite our plan, we thought visiting Taklamakan desert, the world's second largest desert, would be a good alternative, but when we asked the locals they told us it is suicidal. The desert name originates from Takli, meaning death in Uyghur, is not a place for two amaturs to step a foot in during the hottest month. We continued to ask around and found another desert, Kumtagh, located just south of Shan Shan (鄯善), about 300km east of Urumqi. After 4 hours of comfortable bus ride, we arrived the town center, and when stepped out we were immediately blasted with wave of unbearable heat. We jump into the first motel in sight but was not open for foreigners. The clerk gave us names of three motels available for non-Chinese, and after checking in we went out for a late lunch. There we were told that the temperature was at 45C, or 113F.

According to a local guide Sahe had met on the bus, the Desert Park has a higher entrance fee for foreigners, but can be avoided by asking a cab driver to purchase tickets on behalf. We decided to pay an initial visit, just to see how bearable the temperature is. When we asked a young driver for a favor, he rejected it by telling us that we can see the desert for free. He drove through narrow paths into a vineyard, and told us the desert is just over the hill. We went through a ripped fence and crawled over a mountain of sand. There it was, the desert. It was so beautiful but the heat was nothing like what it was in the town. With no shade and breeze, we could barely take some photos before rolling down the hill into the same cab with half-melted selves, shoes full of sand.

The town, built around a main street, is divided into two sections. Uyghurs lived in the area closer to the desert, and Hans lived closer to the freeway. Sand buildings are only visible near the desert, and further you are more concrete they became. The sidewalks are lined with trees to provide shades which make walking outside during the daytime possible.

The same driver came to pick us up at 20:00, and this time we asked him to take us to the park. He left us a couple hundred meters back to go buy tickets for us, and with a card of paper each with 30 yuan imprinted we walked through the entrance, marked 60 yuan in English. The path was sandwiched by vineyards, and the shadow of grape shelves reached from the right side to the left. We climbed up the stairs and a magnificent mountains of sand in front of us. As overwhelmed as we were by its size and height, we aimed for the tallest pile of sand visible, wobbling through heated, crumbling floor. Constantly consuming water, we walked for an hour and a half to reach the top, to find waves of sand going as far as visible. As beautiful as it was, the thought of being swallowed into the desert and never being able to find a way back sent a chill down the spine.

On the way back, we took the 1 yuan taxi which looked like a scooter with a flatbed attached to its back, towards the center. At the night market, it only made us excited for our next journey into Central Asia.