Meandering around Bishkek & Astana

Bishkek

This half term saw me flitting from Tashkent to Bishkek (Kyrgyzstan) to Astana (Kazakhstan). Choosing these countries was easy; no visa required. Not that any of the border guards know this as I did get asked if I need one EVERY single time.

First on the plane; watching the peasants await their turn

I arrived to Bishkek at 6pm on Sunday evening with the sole intent of being at one with the Kyrgyz people. This would involve getting a marshutka (minibus) to the city centre from the airport, as I had carefully researched online. My patience with being at one with the people lasted a total of 4 minutes, or so my casio watch told me. I’d already been mobbed by the taxi drivers by the entrance, but I had assured them I am at one with the Kyrgyz and must take marshutka. Therefore, under the pretence of taking some photos, I sidled along the car park to throw myself at the mercy of the taxi drivers I’d rejected 4 and a half minutes prior. We eventually got to the price of 200 som, and I shared the taxi with 2 overexcited medic students who were insistent on giggling for the entire 40 minute journey at my foreignness and lack of Kyrgyz pizazz.

Manas airport in Bishkek with said bus that would allow me to full fill my true destiny to be Kyrgyz; had I gotten on it

My 1^st day started off with a new friend taking me to Osh Bazaar. I had been warned of the fake policeman eager to sell your own passport to you under the ruse of vigilante. No-one approached me and it seemed as if I was more free to take photos than in Uzbekistan. After accidentally circling the bazaar 4 times I ambled down чуй street to the main sites. This included waiting 40 minutes until the changing of the Kyrgyz flagpole; an event that happens every 2 hours and involves some serious leg flexibility. It was probably the highlight of my trip, even more so as one of them almost kicked me in the face as I got dangerously close to falling over the gate.

Osh Bazaar

Let me sell you some hard boiled eggs

Come into my underground toilet

We serve all your bread needs, if you like lapyoshka

A colourful array of fruits and vegetables on offer

Flexibility

Nestled opposite the Soviet circus, and Damas Hotel lies a disused casino. Following the fall of the Soviet Union, gambling became illegal and the casino shut down and raided for all it had. These days, all that remains are the vague remnants of some colourful paint on the walls and the elusive signs of what might have once been. Unfortunately it was locked around the entire perimeter so it was impossible to get inside. Also, seemingly unwatched by the police; a rare sight in these parts. Glass still lies on the floor since 2010 as the government officials refuse to recognise what it once was by cleaning it up.

Ex-casino

Writing in English; I see what you did there

Despite Bishkek being a fairly unkempt city, it hid a few gems. One of which was Sierra Coffee; a, dare I say, hip establishment on Manas Street. Colourful bike racks adorned the outside and if I’d had a bike, I would’ve felt hip using it.

Coffaaay

Aforementioned bike racks

Enjoying the sunny day with flags and statues

For 10 som you can find out your exact weight on these nifty scales

They now show movies on the local marshutkas; I watched Harry Potter on the way to the airport

Buy my wares; my van is carpeted

Astana

I was hoping for more civilisation in Astana, but trust me after 6 months in Tashkent I just wanted to stand in McDonald's and let the grease seep into my pores. Luckily, the McDonald’s had just opened in Astana and was a tourist site in itself; the 1^st one in Central Asia.

woooo

Hostel cat

Hearting Astana

Synagogue

 Wandering around the city, and there’s more of a police presence than in Bishkek. Either that, or the lads just like the ole camo gear whilst on their paintballing stag do…

Other highlights include taking the lift up the impressive Bayterek Tower that stands in the middle of the main boulevard and overlooks the Khan Shatyr entertainment centre. This centre is arguable one of the main sights and boasts a Topshop, Zara, and indoor beach. 

Bayterek monument

View of the city

Arriving back to Tashkent involved the usual hounding for a taxi. I managed to pay a very reasonable 10,000 som and I threw in my proposal of conversation of worldwide travels, trips to McDonalds and/or witty banter. We quickly came to a deal. The car park did cost him 8,000, so I felt slightly bad at his less than nifty 30p profit on my ride. I quickly got over it. Unfortunately, it came back after I got out and thought he might hit me with his car. He didn’t, therefore, a positive end to my trip.

Winter and parental visit

The winter months haven't proved too eventful in Tashkent. The winter itself has been ever elusive, with a solid 3 days of snow max. I've been moved from the PE department to year 5 where I help in a class of 9; although only we average about 7 children most days. They're all angels so we got the better deal compared to the other year 5 class of 24 children.

Rare day of snow

My parents came to visit at the start of March to experience everything Tashkent has to offer, along with a side weekend in Shymkent, Kazakhstan. They stayed in Hotel Uzbekistan on the main square, affectionately known as "the book." An old hotel, they weren't allowed to stay below level 12 as it apparently doesn't meet standards for Westerners. The receptionists there didn't decide to provide too much help; probably something to do with the 24 hour shifts they do once every 3 days. I'm sure there's logic there somewhere.

Staying in a Soviet book.

After my parents dolled out the 6 month supply of cous cous, quinoa and tuna they'd bought me, we managed to flag down a taxi to take us to the walk through border with Kazakhstan.This proved mostly uneventful and we strolled through in less than 45 minutes to be hounded on the other side by people trying to exchange a wide array of currencies and taxi rides. After assuring the men that any number above 10 would be met with a cackle and a sassy finger snap, we found a nice taxi for $10 to take us all the way to Shymkent city centre in an hour and a half. He drove mostly on the wrong side of the road to avoid potholes, and we almost careered into oncoming lorries only 50/60 times.

Monument by the park of independence

Shymkent is quite nice, and we got lucky with the good weather. The main highlight is the tulip shaped fountain. It's not really a highlight, and yet it is the main one. Luckily, I managed to amuse myself with the buying of a new phone, marginally cheaper than buying one in the UK.

The circus

A tulip fountain to attract the tourists. We were the only ones there.

After making the same tumultuous journey back to the border on the wrong side of the road, we got through with only a small amount of sexual harassment from the border guards. I'm not sure licking your lips and beckoning people over is really acceptable at border control, but there didn't seem to be a feedback form at the end so we let it go. Some more highlights of Tashkent included the cable cart around the TV tower and the red bus tour from the hotel.

Literally about to die in this car.

Enjoying the sights of Tashkent from a moving vehicle.

It's like being in London. It really is.

The main event from the past week has been the celebration of Navruz; the celebration of New Year. Traditions involve taking turns to stir a pot of sumalak for 16 hours, before leaving it to cool and eating it at 6am the next day. We kinda made it following various antics in our friends' mansion, and the winners were treated to champions pancakes the next morning.

Being Uzbek, helping stir the wheatgrass.

Losing all sense of self.

Still stirring 10 hours on.

Champions of the morning.

Borat, where art thou?

Half term was a welcomed treat when it arrived upon us; and with it, a strong desire to leave the country. Apparently by foot, and apparently to Kazakhstan. After hopping on a bus and a taxi to the border, we made it to the incorrectly translated sign wishing us "good luck" instead of "have a pleasant journey." More sinister, but also more accurate. The process itself took maybe 2-3 hours altogether; just a couple of passport checks, bag check, and filling out of declaration forms. The very competent immigration officers on the Kazakh side were clearly very up-to-date on their knowledge of who was allowed in and out, I decided, as he asked me if I was allowed in without a visa. With a smirk, I assured him that I was, and sauntered through. If only it was always that easy.

Barren no-mans-land between Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan

The people: they flock

Our hopeful, pre-customs faces

The other side can only be described as a mob scene of unofficial money exchangers and taxi drivers. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be any ATMs and the exchange rate they offer for the worthless Uzbek som was 50% less than the official exchange rate. Nevertheless, we plowed through the offers to be driven around for $50 a head until we found a nice little marshrutka, and squeezed on, getting very close to our neighbours for the 2 hour ride to Shimkent. We completely lucked our when we arrived at our hotel; it turned out to be absolute paradise, and I somehow managed to find myself in the deluxe room with a cheeky mini bar that I completely raided to within an inch of its life.

"The other side"

We had a rainy first day in Shimkent, wandering around the independence square monuments, before finding ourselves in a bazaar. We stocked up on wooly winter socks and I found myself buying a full Kazakhstan tracksuit set in national colours, matching one Maddy had just bought. We matched, and we were happy.

Feeling free circa 1991

Symmetry for the win

"For sale"

Twins. Photobommers. San Francisco. Winning

Causing a nuisance with our Soviet squatting

After a shopping and rain filled two days in Shimkent, we found ourselves ready to move on to Turkestan. A country, no, but another city down the south of Kazakhstan. Now, Soviet trains tend to be notoriously excessively overheated; the hypochondria around these parts means that they'd rather sweat out every last morsel of water from their body than just put a jumper on and be a bit chilly. Therefore our 4 hour train from Shimkent to Turkestan was spent being passed out from the heat and playing sudoku. I also bought a jumper from a lady selling her wares up and down the carriages.

Why did we do this?

Exhaustion. New jumper.

Feeling stylish in my new jacket.

Inquiring whether the eggs were raw or hard boiled. They were hard boiled.

Our arrival at Turkestan was met by a hotel that probably needs to re-think their decor come early October. Christmas is bare ages away.

When the bells start ringing and the band begins to Play-aaay

Our first full day in Turkestan saw us visit some ruins called Sauram. It's basically city walls leftover from time gone by. I basically have no idea what the history behind it actually is. Just looked like some rocks to me, but we walked and had some food and took some photos. 

Threatening to eat a berry to Maddy's protest

After making a friend in the restaurant of our hotel, we were invited to the University of Turkestan the next day; no doubt, an institution of brilliance.  We arrived after a long walk down a blazing hot highway, to find a very modern building that had just been built this year. We were invited inside to meet a Turkish professor and make some awkward conversation with some very shy medicine students over tea, coffee, and samsa. Under a time constraint due to our train, we were quickly shuttled off to the filology department where the students had a 15 minute "meet some Brits" lesson, where we did a round robin of conversation, before being offered jobs to join their team. Unfortunately, Almaty came a-calling and a 17 hour train journey was screaming our names.

High levels of security.

Perhaps could do with some electrical remodeling

Impressive indoor decor. I feel like life is thriving.

The train journey started off in a fairly calm fashion. We played some card games; not even the normally questionable cards against humanity, and some sudoku was done. We decided to escape the cries of children and have a change of scenery in the restaurant cart. We had a delicious meal, microwaved to perfection before embarking on what I hear they call "a quiet drink."

Feeling quiet.

The cart was meant to close at 22:00, so it was a surprise when the waiter didn't want to give us our bill at this time, and almost demanded we stay until 23:00. We managed to almost finish up then, before meeting a man called Eric. A lovely man, about to escape a difficult parental relationship by embarking on a trip to KL. Upon hearing we were from England, he demanded he spend his dad's money on buying us drinks. Before we know it, 3am happened and we found ourselves getting some fresh air on a random Kazakh platform before stumbling 7 carriages back to our beds.

Eric, tell us your woes. Also, who is that guy behind us?

Notice my stolen, shabby hotel slippers

Trains - hygiene at its finest

Arriving in Almaty met for a traumatic experience for the boys. Dragged into a "bag check" by the police, they were accused of being drunk and a "fine" had to be paid. A fine/theft; a fine line. However, we all perked up upon arrival at our Sky Hostel which had views for days. 

 Our time in Almaty was spent frequenting Western food joints, wondering why Tashkent didn't think Starbucks was a worthwhile investment. Eventually, we made it to the very top of the city for a fantastic view from the TV tower. There was also a zoo, and I was re-united with ostriches; the most gorgeous of creatures.

You can hardly see the view, but it's there.

Borat was nowhere to be found.