Toktogul Reservoir is a huge expense of water and it took us about a day and half to pedal round from one side to another. We were still on the immaculate Turkish road, but it was a tough rollercoaster of ride through the dry hills above the reservoir.
On the first night by the reservoir, Rowena came down another stomach bug that was to plague her for the next few days.
We still had plans to go to Kochkor for some horse treking. So when we reached Torkent on the farside of the lake we turned off onto a track that our map showed ran through the mountains to Kyzyl Oy and then Kochkor. After two days on the rough track, we'd worn our selves out climbing a small pass only making about 50km, and there was another 200km to go to Kochkor. Rowena was still weak from her tummy bug and we didn't have that much food. So we decided the track was too much for us and we had to return to the main road,
Not a happy bunny after deciding to turn back
Rowena insisted we camped on an island
After returning to the main road, the next challenge was the 3,184m Ala Bel Pass. But first we needed to have a rest to get Rowena well again. We passed through Toktogul and climbed a little way up the Chychkan valley before camping by the fast flowing river. While Rowena collapsed, Tim picked wild apricots and boiled them up to make a compote.
The road near Toktogul
Rowena in a bad way
Ala Bel Pass
Rowena was much improved after a day's rest. As we set out up the pretty Chychkan Valley there were small restaurants selling fresh fried trout. Higher up these were replaced by many stalls selling honey and buckets of wild rasberries. Then, in the grassy pastures near the summit the road was lined with stalls selling fermented mares milk and yoghurt balls (both an acquired taste).
Chychkan River gorge
On the way up the Alabel Pass
The only cyclist we met carry more stuff than us
Camp site at the top of the Ala Bel Pass 3184m
Our only puncture in Central Asia - on the way down from the Ala Bel
The Yurt Family
The Yurt Family
On the way down from the Ala Bel, we were once again short of food. So, we stopped at a roadside yurt that looked as if was offering food. After a splendid late breakfast, the head of the family, a man called Shydalda, insisted we stay with them.
Milking the mares
The family made it's living by selling Kymys, fermented mares milk to passing motorists. They had a herd of about 15 mares that the mother of the family milked five times a day. The milk was then poured into a big wooden vat and allowed to ferment. The kids' job was to keep stirring the vat. Their Kymys was very popular, to the extent they had to buy in extra milk from other herders.
The kids seemed to learn to ride before they could walk and were very happy clowning around on horseback.
Tim helping the ladies make nan bread
Inside the Yurt
The yurt was very cosy inside, with carpets on the floor. At night the carpets were covered with thick felt rugs and duvets and the whole family snuggled down together. Rowena and I were squeezed in down one side.
We felt very privileged to have been invited in by this family and allowed to share their life for a day and a night. It was wrench when we came to leave them the next morning.
