On our journey last year we spent a good deal of time in the Kyrgyz capital of Bishkek. While staying at the extremely friendly and comfortable Nomads Home, we met a group of French street artists (more…)
How we reconvened with other overlanders in Bishkek, had a drunken night out with prostitutes, tried to climb a mountain and finally used the packraft.
After a freezing final night in Tajikistan we (reluctantly) exited the country encountering few problems (the usual “problem” requiring $25 to sort out soon disappeared when we settled back into the car offering to wait for the right official to arrive) and took the long road down to the Kyrgyz border. We were ushered through the gates and into Kyrgyzstan with barely a glance at the car (minus a required customs declaration which will become apparent later), taking less than twenty minutes. It was lunchtime and obviously not a convenient time to check vehicles!
You have driven hundreds of kilometres all day on dirt tracks, corrugated and potholed tarmac roads, been stopped five times by the police for ‘documents’, then an unfamiliar noise emanates from the engine bay. Your still 10 km outside of an unfamiliar town looking for somewhere to stay that has secure parking and won’t blow your daily budget. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t need that damn (delete as appropriate) Visa/Registration Document/Permit/Customs Form/Flight Ticket/Spare Part. It’s the usual battle.