We are going to Mongolia

From Kazakhstan we entered Russia and we are now officially in Siberia. We are staying in Barnaul, one of those big Russian towns no one ever heard of.

It will take two days through the Altai Mountains to get to the Mongolian border and from there a week or two to get to Ulan Bator (capital of Mongolia) – this depending on weather, road conditions and our Lada. There will be no internet cafes between here and Ulan Bator so for the next three weeks this blog is likely to go silent. But we will be back……

Last check-up and repairs to the Lada before entering Mongolia. 14.000 Kilometers of poor road had its toll.

Our campsite in Russia before Barnaul between farm fields, little flies and loads of nasty biting mosquitoes.

Here some Kazakhstan campsite pictures.

SY in three weeks.

Crime and Straf

In the city where Dostoevsky once lived, David is getting ‘Straf’ (Punishment) for making a left turn where it is not allowed. The “we don’t speak Russian” method (and we hardly do) seemed helpfull and we were allowed to drive off without any payment. Leaving behind a frustrated policeman with a half filled-in form.

Kazakh non-styles

It is an empty land and the drive from the south border to the north was warm, dusty and a bit boring after Kirgyzstan although it had its charms. We had two more campsites before arriving in Semey, Russia’s former nuclear testground. This is our last stop before entering Russia and we got our supplies for Mongolia, the end of this week, ready!

An empty land

On a mosquito infected campsite David is longing for an Amsterdam beer… or is it a beer in Amsterdam?

Kazakh style

Our last Stans stop before entering Russia and Mongolia… It all started exciting, with the easiest border crossing ever and a great first night camping near an impressive canyon in South Kazakhstan (GPS coordinates upon request). We were joined by eagles in the sky and scary big insects on the ground but no human creature to be seen for miles across the horizon. That’s because all the human creatures were busy driving their posh landcruisers across the dirty streets of Almaty. During the day at least, because at night the streets turn into large rivers due to all the rain. Impressive too, but different. But we got our last visa sorted (for Mongolia) and met up again with white van couple Phil and Angie and with motobiker Edde – which makes the expensive expat lifestyle in this city much more bearable. Today hopefully back into nature, heading northeast to the Altai republic and via Semey across the Russian border for some radioactive rebooster. More on that later…

Some pictures of our campsites

In the middle of nowhere:

Time to move on:

Water and Petrol don’t mix

Water and dirt in the petrol tank did the performance of our Lada not much good. Especially on rough roads the engine was powerless and on a few occasions it even stopped. It was time to visit one of the many car repair shops. Just to find water in the tank.

Getting the fuel tank out and getting it cleaned.

After that it was back to business as usual, although there was a faint smell of petrol in the car. Here David is trying to find if everything was properly reconnected again. It turned out a small rubber was missing from one of the hosepipes to the fuel tank. Some silicon paste, sewing thread and the advice of a local car repair helped.

Trekking in the rain is no fun

Here some pictures, the story follows later.

Kyrgyzstan part II: the anatomy of the sheep

So we had the euphoria of our first dip in the ice-cold mountain lake, the perfect camping spots in the wild, the beautiful mountain peaks, the little rivers and waterfalls, the idyllic horse noises at night and the well weird local flora. One element we had not been quite that engaged with concerns the locals. Kyrgyzstan has wide and isolated areas of big nottingness, with only some occasional yurts and horses around. From nature we got well into culture when some local nomads paid us a visit at one of our camp sites, invititing us to their yurt for a cup of fermented mare’s milk (which, we can report, is quite an acquired taste). From there on memories are a bit blurred (or well mixed with locally produced vodka) but in some order the following events took place:

From drinking kymys (the mentioned mare’s milk) and tea to chatting with the family over lunch and looking up polite sentences in the Russian dictionary:

All of a sudden lunch was over, the family jumped up and rushed outside for prayers to Mekka, and there was wild gesturing of cutting throats – which worried us in more than one sense:

We are still not exactly sure what it was we ate, but David had sheep cheek while the animal’s eyes went to his neigbour. For sure the Kyrgz are very economical about their sheep, and none goes to waste… Anyway, the morning after we got horses for a trip to lake Song-Kol, a few hours away over the mountains:

Kyrgyzstan part I: lakes, mountains and camping in the wild