Browsing through Bishkek

(Country count this trip = 4; total countries = 64/67*)

This leg of the Amazing Race commenced at a slightly more civilised time. Still, the challenge was to get to the Sairan International Bus Terminal in Almaty for an 8am departure. It meant getting up at 5am to have a quick breakfast and get ready for the day. I quickly evoked my previous role as the school tuckshop lady, preparing sandwiches for our epic cross-border expedition.

Packed up like mules ready to trek across the Tian Shan mountain range, we got a Yandex to the bus station. We boarded the bus, which looked like it had been serving the Almaty-Bishkek route continuously since the early years of the Soviet Union. The seats were well-worn, some bent over like the little old Kazakh ladies in the front row. We were allocated seats near the back of the bus. Luckily, the bus wasn’t overbooked, and Jason was able to move to his own row. Otherwise, it would have been a very cramped and uncomfortable journey. Jason was glad that we had had our hepatitis vaccinations after seeing the state of the bus interior.

The bus set off, and after a couple of hours on the road we took a pit stop. This was our last chance to get rid of our remaining Kazakh tenge. So, we quickly bought a few provisions from the local shop, after paying to use the squat toilet.

After another hour or so, we made our way to the border. We were all offloaded like horses going to slaughter as we filed through customs. We put our bags through the scanner. As soon as my bag came out the other end, the customs guy pointed at it. There must be a flashing neon sign hovering above me that says: “search this dodgy Aussie”.

In a stern Kazakh voice, the customs guy said “open”. Now, when I’ve been through other customs, they don’t allow you to touch your bag while they search it. This time was different. The guy kept repeating “open”. And like an obedient dog at training school, I proceeded to take things out of my bag. Now, this was a challenge in the Amazing Race, because my bag was like a TARDIS and contained pretty much everything and the kitchen sink.

One by one the customs guy inspected every little nook and cranny. “American?”, he asked. I responded “No, Australian”. I’m not sure he understood. He continued to inspect everything, including my wallet and looked between my credit cards. He closely examined the tiny vacuum used to shrink our vacuum bags. How do I explain what this is to him? I was just hoping he wouldn’t press the button, otherwise he might have thought he’d uncovered some highly sophisticated Australian espionage equipment. Luckily, he just tapped the light button. He pulled out my collapsible tin cup and signalled for me to explain. So I gave him a demonstration like on one of those early morning infomercials. After he was finished, he asked me again: “American”. He got the same response as the first time: “No, Australian”.

By this stage, I had caught the flu that Jason had been trying to kick for the last week. I really wasn’t in the mood to have to repack my bag, but I picked everything up and threw it back in, hoping I hadn’t missed anything. We then proceeded through Kyrgyzstani customs without issue.

We got to the Kyrgyzstan side of the border. We had a couple of options: get a Yandex or a local bus. But first, we needed to exchange money. I couldn’t see any exchange rates for the Aussie dollar, and that’s because they don’t accept it in Kyrgyzstan. Luckily, we had our own little currency exchange of Euros and US dollars.

The next decision was whether to order a taxi while we still had internet access or catch the cheap local bus. For some reason, we decided to catch the bus. There was already a bus ready to leave for Bishkek city, so we tapped on and took our seats. Along the way, the bus started to get packed. I gave up my seat for a little old Kyrgyz woman, while Jason got squished into his seat by an old Kyrgyz man.

Outside it was a little fresh, but inside the bus was cranked up to 27 degrees. Now, Jason had turned into a peri-menopausal woman, menopausal Mary I called him, so he opened the window to cool his hot flushes. This didn’t seem to impress the old Kyrgyz man, who quickly shut the window. We felt like we’d been transported into an alternative world. Shouldn’t it have been the two Aussie boys from sub-tropical Brisbane that should be feeling the cooler weather? The locals were decked out in puffer jackets and hard-core winter attire. How do they survive when it drops below zero?

We got about 40 minutes into the bus journey, when the bus driver asked me where we were going. I pulled out Google Maps and showed him. He indicated that we needed to get off the bus and catch the 351. We waited and waited. None of the buses were 351.

A couple of Kyrgyz transport ladies got off a bus. They didn’t speak any English, but with a few hand gestures and pointing on the map, they told us to get the 254 or 104 bus. By this stage, neither of us had any reception let alone internet access. I thought as a last resort my Aussie phone could be used. But I had no reception. We would have to rely on primitive methods going forward.

A 104 bus arrived and we jumped on board. We were on the bus for about another 20 minutes. Our maps were showing that we were still about 11 kilometres away from our destination. Another transport lady got on to check our tickets, and I tried to confirm with her that we were heading in the right direction. That was a negative. So, we quickly disembarked. It felt like déjà vu. At this point it was more like an episode of Lost in Transit than the Amazing Race.

We were left on the side of the road of some strange bus stop still no closer to our Airbnb. By this stage, it had been about three hours since we had crossed the border. We needed to buy a SIM card that worked in Kyrgyzstan, so Jason toddled off to a local shop about 50 metres away.

We loaded the SIM, but nothing worked. A young Kyrgyz guy could see that we obviously needed assistance. He tried to set up the SIM, but he didn’t have much luck either. Eventually, he shared his hotspot so that we could order a Yandex. It was meant to arrive in about 9 minutes. The Kyrgyz guy took off and got on his bus. But this meant we lost internet access and weren’t able to track the Yandex.

After about 15 minutes, Cassandra the Soothsayer appeared before us with the prediction that the Yandex wasn’t coming and we would need to walk the rest of the way. Fortunately, none of Cassandra's predictions had come true so far, and the Yandex eventually appeared through the gridlocked Bishkek traffic.

This episode of the Amazing Race not only saw a crossover with Lost in Transit, but the Lost World series. In the panic to get our bags into the Yandex, Jason left his sunglasses at the pit stop. The scores are getting even closer now: Ricky 3 , Jason 2 (although my tally is Ricky 1, Jason 2).

Production had also started with another spin-off series called the Broken World. In the previous episode, Jason had broken his sunglasses and purchased another, only to donate them to the Lost World in Kyrgyzstan. Then, he broke his umbrella. The Broken World count sits at Jason 2, Ricky 0.

In the peak hour traffic of Bishkek, which seemed to last from about 4pm to 7pm everyday, we reached the end of our trip, surprised we didn’t have tinnitus from all the car horn honking. According to Google Maps, we weren’t at our final destination. I thought we’d have to somehow get another taxi to the correct destination. We got out of the car, and thankfully spotted the Bay Tash Towers, where we were staying. We hadn’t been taken on a wild goose chase after all. Four hours later, we finally reached our Airbnb.

By the time we checked in, the sun was starting to go down. We went in search of some provisions and got our bearings on our new surroundings before retiring for the night, ready to set out on a new expedition tomorrow.

Day 2 of our Bishkek leg was spent exploring the city area. We began at Ala Too square, built in 1984 during the Soviet Union, and also the site of the 2005 Tulip Revolution. Nearby, we spotted a little bakery that was begging for two Aussie guys to buy a cinnamon scroll. We needed some sustenance to get us through to lunch in an hour or so.

All the wandering of the Bishkek streets was exhausting. It was our own pick-a-path adventure. Like a Bowerbird building its nest, we would spot a shiny new object and go in search of it, snapping shots to savour the memory. At the end of the day, we thought we’d give ourselves a treat and try something that all the young school kids were buying. It turned out to be balls of dried, salty mare’s milk, not a sweet treat. It took a nano-second before our faces turned to disgust, spitting the horrible balls in the bin. Jason likened them to salty, sour blue cheese.

Each day was a new adventure. On day 3, Jason was on a mission to buy a Xiaomi 4K TV streaming stick. He suggested that we take a trip to the local markets, Osh Bazaar. But this was just a ruse for him to go in search of the mystery stick. With his translator app in hand, he approached every tech shop that we passed. And there were a lot. Each time, he was disappointed not to get his magical stick.

We eventually got to the bazaar. Everything was so cheap, and like kids in a lolly shop, we wanted it all. We limited ourselves to some baklava, biscuits, honey, bread and fruit. We were set for the rest of our stay.

The wandering pick-a-path adventures continued for the remainder of our Bishkek leg. We stumbled upon Victory Square, built in 1985 to commemorate the 40th anniversary of the end of the Second World War. Then, we spotted the Golden Mosque in the distance, so we took a detour in that direction. We continued wandering and eventually found the Grand Mosque with its towering white turrets.

Almost every corner we turned seemed to be another shopping mall. Jason’s pursuit of the magical stick subsided with time and he eventually gave in to the fact he wasn’t going to find it in Bishkek. Instead, he turned to accessories for his phone.

As we were approaching one of the many malls, a young gal approached Jason and said in English that he had a “cool style”. Jason is always about 20 metres ahead of me like the Queen of Sheba, with her servant following in tow. When I caught up, the young gal looked at me and said “so do you”. But I felt it was an afterthought and that she only said it to be polite.

After searching for phone accessories, we stumbled upon Kulikov, a Kyrgyz coffee shop and confectionery chain. We bought some ice-creams and as we walked away we were approached by a young guy who asked if he could get a photo with us. Maybe he thought Jason looked like Shane Warne, like the Indian guys did at Shymbulak in Kazakhstan.

The celebrity treatment continued on the final day when, once again traipsing through a mall, two girls approached us and asked where we were from. They then asked us to say thank you in Kyrgyz. We obliged - rakh-MAT – and went on our way to get ready for our next stop.

Next stop clue: A city born from a bazaar held on the first day of the working week, and where Persian culture meets Soviet architecture.

Kyrgyz Phrases:

Hello = Салам (sah-LAHM)

Good morning = Кутмандуу таң (koot-man-DOO tang)

Thank you = Рахмат (rahkh-MAHT)

How are you? = Formal = Кандайсыз? Kandaysyz? (ken-die-SIZ); informal = Кандайсың? Kandaysyng? (kan-die-SUNG)

Please = Сураныч (soo-rah-NITCH)

Excuse me = Кечириңиз (keh-chee-ree-NIZ)

Yes = Ооба (OH-oh-bah)

No = Жок (zhok)

How much? = Канча турат? (kahn-CHA too-RAHT)

Cyrillic Alphabet:

AKMOT = the same as Latin alphabet

B = V
H = N
P = R (rolled/trilled)
C = S
Y = oo (as in boot)
X = ch (as in loch)
Б = B
Г = G
Д = D
Э = Z
И = ee
П = P
Ф = F
Ж = zh
Ц = ts
Ч = ch
Ш = sh
Щ = shch
Ю = Yu
Я = Ya
Ё = Yo

*RT counts only countries that we have exited the airport.Read more