Morning sun casts a golden light across the plain onto the surface of Son Kul Lake. Icy peaks beyond the far bank nudge into a gentle blue sky, cooling and cleaning the air. As we enjoy our first views of the magnificent lake, our host Norgul is busy scalding the visiting fisherman for getting drunk last night – an act that will work well to our advantage later..
Its time for our first tour treat! Traditional games are still the ultimate test of a Kyrgyz horseman’s riding skills, so we set our cameras to sports mode and gather outside our yurts to watch the action I’ve arranged. I decided to spare a goat whose carcass would have formed the ‘ball’ for Ulak Tartysh, so we instead enjoy Tiyin Enmei, watching riders defy gravity by hanging by from saddles at speed to pick up money from the dewy ground. The stomping of hooves and jettisoned earth marks a series of Chabysh, speed races, which precede the match making game of Kyz Kuumai. Its classic boy meets girl stuff – only on horseback! Suitor chases girl; if caught she has to fend him off with a whip –or a kiss seals the deal. The final game is Oodarysh, horseback wrestling. We wince as the horses draw side by side and the two young men grapple themselves into a knot of limbs until one submits.
Games are much more fun when you are involved, so an impromptu tug of war is arranged for us with the drunken fisherman. We turn them over, literally at first, but by adding an extra man they soon get their revenge and wisely we settle for an honourable draw. The funs not over though; Norgul encourages me to squat back to back roped to a burly, wellie booted fisherman each of us trying to drag the other past a winning post. I still bear the scars of this glorious defeat on my elbows and knees!
After our mornings entertainment we pack a picnic and split ourselves into walkers and riders to head across the plain and up for the hills behind our camp. Ancient petroglyphs scratched into the rocks mark the way up to a windy plateau, which overlooks Son Kul Lake. From here we can appreciate the size of the lake; thirty-five kilometres long and half that again wide. Sitting on horseback with the wind whistling, staring beyond our yurt camp to the lake and mountainous backdrop is simple magical.
A slow criss-cross tack down the slopes and we are back at Nurgul’s camp in time for afternoon tea and nibbles. We are adjusting nicely to the pace of life on the plains. At dusk I wander a few hundred metres up the slope to a stake in the ground that marks the local communications centre; it’s the only spot within a twenty kilometres radius where there is a mobile phone signal! Every evening horses and pick-ups converge on this small space to connect with the outside world. Technology meets tradition; I’m warmed by the joyous expressions of families connecting with relatives who have been tempted by a more settled way life.
Oodarysh – Horseback wrestling 
Tiyin Enmei
The Drunken Fishermen
Campfires, caravanserais, hot chocolate and stars
The following day is a real test for our ex soviet troop carrier, PreZilla. A spectacular day’s drive takes us off road, through dry riverbeds and pine forests to the Silk Road caravanserai of Tash Rabat, stone fortress. We also cross the first of our spectacular passes, elevating us beyond 4000 metres for the first time. The views are stunning; clouds cast huge shadows that move like the wings of giant vultures across processions of pine trees in the valley below. It’s a full days drive in PreZilla broken up by a stop in the mountain town of Baetov, where we eventually manage to pick up supplies from the market – the rest of the town seems only to sell biscuits, sweets – and vodka! There’s also a riverside picnic and a paddle before we chug our way into the narrow valley, one of the most scenic parts of the lower Tien Shan range. Beside the well preserved stone caravanserai another cluster of yurts await us, this time our hosts are Jergal and Torsum. Dinner begins with a quick briefette, followed by our now familiar evening toasting rituals, vodka infused with pine nuts tonight providing a slight variation, as we down settle for another night far from civilisation.
Next morning we head out into the narrow valley that once linked China with the Kharakhanid capital of Burana, just east of modern day Bishkek. Riding horses along the valley floor takes us through a breath-taking wilderness among yaks, cows, horses, and shaggy herding dogs. Amongst the peace and stillness of our surroundings, it’s easy to imagine the majesty of an ancient camel caravan snaking its way towards the caravanserai. These traders ‘motels’ were dotted at 30 – 50km intervals along the route providing protection, shelter, storage – and doubtless some bawdy behaviour! Seldom did goods travel the whole route from China to the west; most moved back and forth around the network through a series of middlemen who traded at these caravanserais. Before dinner we take a walk up the hills above our yurts to enjoy the views of the sun disappearing beyond the valley one last time.
I decide we’ve earned ourselves another treat so after dinner we wander to the caravanserai to watch the ancient stones walls flickering through the flames of a campfire. As the stars brighten it’s time for hot chocolate and Turkish delight to mark our goodbyes to wilderness life and our yurts – Tomorrow we’ll be in Kashgar!
The Lonely Chopstick 