Kazakhstan: Part II

25th September 2002.

The day starts earlier than I wished. At 4.00 am I am pulling on some clothes and setting off with torch and bog paper to answer a call of nature. The moon is almost full so the torch is not much needed. On returning to the tent I share with PJ he is awake. I must have had too much vodka after supper last night because I am intensely thirsty. PJ offers me his beaker of water with the proviso it may taste of toothpaste. I gratefully accept and it transpires that Pippa, lying awake in the next tent, is deeply envious.

There has been frost and nobody has slept particularly well. PJ had advised us to put all our things inside our tents at night. As there had been a heavy dew we were glad to have done this. Porridge for breakfast was welcome. It became apparent that our support team is as familiar with trekking as us. Some vital things had been left behind. Kanat (guide) and I set off back to the truck. I need my silk vest and long-johns, guaranteed by my sister to keep one warm in the coldest of Irish houses, and PJ wants his mittens. The support team realise that they have more kit than they can carry and search for a horse.

It is after midday when we break camp and set off up the valley with a heavily laden horse and all members of staff encumbered with backpacks, various bags and bits of kitchen equipment. At the head of the lake we meet two fishermen returning with three small but respectable fish caught on kit similar to mine. I’m much encouraged particularly as they say the second lake has better fishing.

As we progress up the valley it becomes increasingly apparent that we are too heavily laden. We stop and Kanat proposes that we lunch here and establish this as our base camp from where we can make day walks for the next two days. Pippa is bitterly disappointed as our aim is to continue up the valley, over a pass and drop down into Kyrgyzstan. I cannot see how this can be accomplished. The man who has lent his horse advises that at the second lake, some three hours walk ahead, there are guides. Pippa thrashes out a deal. We will reduce our personal kit to a minimum. The cooking kit and food will likewise be reduced as much as possible and hopefully we will be more mobile. It is not until 4.00 pm that we are ready to set off again. The horse and its owner set off back down the valley with Tania (cook). I check my GPS and in the last 24 hours we have gone two miles.

We set off up the valley with Kanat and three porters, one of whom will act as cook. The path quickly becomes very steep but is through conifers and shaded. After an exhausting climb we emerge at the second lake (2,300 metres above sea level). There is no sign of a guide but in the distance across the lake we can see a man rowing a small boat. The lake, like the first, is surrounded by steep hills which are wooded. Higher up the woods peter out into apparently green baize meadows.

After about twenty minutes two East German boys with backpacks come up the same path we took. They work at the Goethe Institute in Almaty and are taking a week’s hiking holiday. They passed our porters on their way up. We decide to look for a guide and set off anti-clockwise round the lake. It becomes apparent that we are going in the wrong direction and the Germans, who have gone clockwise to find a camping place, shout to us across the lake confirming this. We retrace our steps, crossing a tangle of logs over the stream that leaves the lake and we had followed up all day.

The country on this side of the lake is more open with cattle grazing guarded by a wild looking dog. Over a small hill we find a group of men building a log hut. Alex goes to talk to them and in spite of the language barrier it is established that of of them can guide us over the pass with two ponies to carry our bags.

At this point our weary guide and porters emerge and again announce that they are carrying too much and will go no further. Alex’s successful negotiation transforms the situation and it is agreed we will continue up and across the pass tomorrow. Meanwhile the Germans have built a fire and invite us to share it. We gather some wood to repay their kindness and Alex produces a bottle of Cherry Brandy which they tuck into. Pippa tells them that Schroder has won the election* – news that broke since they left Almaty. Again it is a very cold night and we eat a supper of soup, fish and potatoes shivering around a plastic tablecloth laid out on the ground.

(* Gerhard Schroder’s centre-left coalition was narrowly re-elected on 22nd September 2002.)