........previously, our time in Osh and Alay........
We'd been pretty lucky so far in Central Asia with our drivers. Mostly in Tajikistan, the roads are too atrocious for much speeding or dangerous driving, and on our trips in Kyrgyzstan so far we had not encountered any wanna-be racing car drivers. That luck had to run out at some point, and it was when we decided to take the once a day direct bus from Osh to Arslanbob.
It was four hours of hell, with the driver speeding recklessly, tailgating and overtaking dangerously and dodging equally mental drivers coming towards us on the wrong side of the road......all while fiddling with his phone and not looking at the road. We are really over this kind of travel and it actually makes us not want to travel at all in places where we are reliant on small minibuses and shared taxis to get around long distances. It's just too dangerous, not to mention the stress on our nerves! We'll try to stick to countries where trains rule from now on.
Looking out the window, we were unsure about the stark open scenery, but as we drove into the valley with the late afternoon sun setting through the poplars and bathing the green village in a warm glow, we felt all the travellers hype about Arslanbob might be warranted.
CBT Krgystsan is a community based homestay program allowing travellers to board with local families almost anywhere in the country. Up until now we hadn't had a lot to do with the organisation, finding our own way pretty easily. When we had seeked their help in the past, notably in Karakol, we found them to be unhelpful, and only focused on money-making information such as tours. We had heard the Arslanbob office was pretty good, so on arrival in the tiny village center, we walked 100 meters to their office. We were greeted by a friendly, experienced man who spoke perfect English and invited to choose a homestay from the 20 odd displayed with photos on the board. They were all the same price, and he gave us the option of three that didn't currently have guests, which we thought was fair. Twenty seconds later a free Ukrainian shuttle truck showed up, and took us to the homestay! Almost too easy! We later learnt the CBT office takes 15% of the fees tourists pay to the guesthouse, with 10% of that paying the co-coordinator's wage and 5% going into community projects.
The family we were allocated to had been in the game for 20 years, and it was a pleasure to stay with them in their simple accommodation set in a glorious garden with views over the village. The set up was typical for every homestay we had been in on this trip. An older couple were in charge, their son and his wife and their two little children completed the household. The older couple were of retirement age, and focused on their guests and their farm. The daughter-in-law did all the house work, cooking and most of the child rearing (from what we could see). The son was off most days tending the farm, hunting or walking in the hills. Of the two adorable kids, the eight year old boy helped both parents before and after school, and the four year old was still free to play and just be generally cute. Everyone has a role in these traditional societies, and we wondered about a life where that was what one was expected to do. Interesting only the grandparents were university educated- the children weren't interested, and the host was the only one to speak English. We wondered what would happen in the future for the homestay business.
The family was ethnically Uzbek (as is the majority of Arslanbob), and their families had been in these parts for generations. They feel connected to Uzbekistan and the Fergana Valley in particular, and have problems living in a Kyrgyz country, where they feel they are often overlooked or prejudiced against by the government. The family was Muslim, and as is mostly the case in Central Asia, their views and faith were mixed. Several times a day, feet were washed and prayers were taken inside the house, but they were also quite happy for us to have a beer in the garden for Rich's birthday.
Arslanbob is a unique place in the world, being the largest walnut forest on earth. We arrived at the very beginning of the harvest, when families were starting to move temporarily into the forests in order to be close to their plots and collect the nuts from the ground. We loved the camps with their plastic tarps for tents, kids running around, and many even brought along their chickens.
Once our host family realized we were happy to do our own thing and didn't need help with guides, horses, yurt stays, or any of the other services offered by CBT, they left us happily to spend our days alternately wandering and relaxing. We were asked every day what we wanted for breakfast and dinner, which was a first, and our wishes were accommodated as much as possible. We racked our brains to come up with something special (and possible) for Rich's birthday dinner, and he settled on eggs, chips and salad!!
The village of Arslanbob itself didn't do much for us. We found the charm lacking due to a large amount of building and concrete houses. People had the same nonchalant attitude towards us as most of this region of Kyrgyzstan- they obviously see a lot of tourists here passing through. It wasn't that they were unfriendly at all, rather more uninterested, and that's fair enough! But we still got the odd hello and wave, or handshake in Richard's case, and it was enough for us to enjoy a social aspect.
But we had come here for rural beauty. Every day for a week we walked to various points of interest around the village- waterfalls, viewpoints and nearby villages (including the charmingly named Kizil Alma- Red Apple). As well as walnut trees there were many apples, pears, plums and hazelnuts in the area. Small lanes could be busy with people riding horses or leading sheep or cows to the fields. Rich commented about how young some of the kids looked, and imagined in the "West" having a parent tell a six year old to take the cows up the mountain every morning before school!
But the highlight was the gorgeous walnut forests, with the dappled light and shade, peaceful paths and occasionally passing whole families with blackened hands from collecting the sappy walnuts. There weren't many left on the ground when we walked through- they are pretty sharp eyed at picking up every last one. As it was the beginning of the season, the nuts were still a little green and soft, but we appreciated a few from last year's crop.
We were sad to leave our little nest at the guesthouse, and our host's parting comment "If you had any problem while stay here, excuse me" was sweet (and unnecessary!).
A funny aside- the men of Arslanbob love a hat. This can be said of men in general in Central Asia, but in Arslanbob, there seemed to be an even bigger range. The bog standard baseball cap, traditional embroidered Uzbek hat and knitted skullcap, mingled with fedoras, trilbys and flat caps. Many older men (including our host), dressed like such gentlemen, wearing suit jackets with cardigans underneath, and the ever present hat, even just to go to the fields.
A couple of days around the very modern town of Jalal-Abad rounded off our time, before we returned to Osh. We thought we'd try our luck again at the local CBT office, only to be shown a horrible shoe box of a room that was more expensive than our lovely big, light filled room in Arslanbob. We declined, and instead found ourselves a terrific room in a local's gastinista (hotel). For a cheaper price we had a room in the centre of town with a double bed and our own bathroom (both luxuries for here!) It was strange to be in Central Asia and walk around a market and not have one single person talk to us, approach us, call out hello or want a photo. This was our experience in Jalal-Abad's main bazaar. Women literally went running and ducking when Rich got his camera out, even if they were not the object of his focus. This market was chock a block full of winter woollies and jackets of all kinds- typical! We were very excited to see big bowls of raspberries, strawberries and blackberries- the berry season we'd been hanging out for had finally arrived! Needless to say, we scoffed a load that night with creamy smetana (yogurt) and felt the effects the following day.
A trip up the hill to visit the nearby sanatorium proved much more rewarding. We love a good Soviet-era sanatorium, as you might have seen in previous blogs. This one wasn't quite as decrepit as other ones we have visited, and quite a lot of building work was going on, unfortunately replacing the falling down and atmospheric old housing with new concrete designs. We loved exploring the grounds, finding ruins and little random buildings around every corner. A stint at a cafe with a beer and a cup of vodka (very sensible way to sell it!) before heading back down the hill rounded off the day.
Our series of marshrutkas (minibuses) coming back from Arslanbob were a huge improvement on the long journey out there. The shorter trips seemed to cause the drivers to go slower, and we could actually enjoy the scenery without fear of dying. Animals were down from the summer jailoo pastures now, and they dotted the fields- horses, donkeys, sheep and cows all grazing together. Returning from Jalal-Abad to Osh, the misty rain covered any big mountains, and the view was green rolling hills and rice fields growing the famous (!) plov rice.
...next up, travels in Fergana Valley, Uzbekistan........
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| Arslanbob |
We'd been pretty lucky so far in Central Asia with our drivers. Mostly in Tajikistan, the roads are too atrocious for much speeding or dangerous driving, and on our trips in Kyrgyzstan so far we had not encountered any wanna-be racing car drivers. That luck had to run out at some point, and it was when we decided to take the once a day direct bus from Osh to Arslanbob.
It was four hours of hell, with the driver speeding recklessly, tailgating and overtaking dangerously and dodging equally mental drivers coming towards us on the wrong side of the road......all while fiddling with his phone and not looking at the road. We are really over this kind of travel and it actually makes us not want to travel at all in places where we are reliant on small minibuses and shared taxis to get around long distances. It's just too dangerous, not to mention the stress on our nerves! We'll try to stick to countries where trains rule from now on.
Looking out the window, we were unsure about the stark open scenery, but as we drove into the valley with the late afternoon sun setting through the poplars and bathing the green village in a warm glow, we felt all the travellers hype about Arslanbob might be warranted.
 |
| Village of Arslanbob |
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| Walking home, Arslanbob |
CBT Krgystsan is a community based homestay program allowing travellers to board with local families almost anywhere in the country. Up until now we hadn't had a lot to do with the organisation, finding our own way pretty easily. When we had seeked their help in the past, notably in Karakol, we found them to be unhelpful, and only focused on money-making information such as tours. We had heard the Arslanbob office was pretty good, so on arrival in the tiny village center, we walked 100 meters to their office. We were greeted by a friendly, experienced man who spoke perfect English and invited to choose a homestay from the 20 odd displayed with photos on the board. They were all the same price, and he gave us the option of three that didn't currently have guests, which we thought was fair. Twenty seconds later a free Ukrainian shuttle truck showed up, and took us to the homestay! Almost too easy! We later learnt the CBT office takes 15% of the fees tourists pay to the guesthouse, with 10% of that paying the co-coordinator's wage and 5% going into community projects.
The family we were allocated to had been in the game for 20 years, and it was a pleasure to stay with them in their simple accommodation set in a glorious garden with views over the village. The set up was typical for every homestay we had been in on this trip. An older couple were in charge, their son and his wife and their two little children completed the household. The older couple were of retirement age, and focused on their guests and their farm. The daughter-in-law did all the house work, cooking and most of the child rearing (from what we could see). The son was off most days tending the farm, hunting or walking in the hills. Of the two adorable kids, the eight year old boy helped both parents before and after school, and the four year old was still free to play and just be generally cute. Everyone has a role in these traditional societies, and we wondered about a life where that was what one was expected to do. Interesting only the grandparents were university educated- the children weren't interested, and the host was the only one to speak English. We wondered what would happen in the future for the homestay business.
 |
| Flowers in our homestay garden, Arslanbob |
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| Homestay in Arslanbob |
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| Little munchkin at homestay, Arslanbob |
The family was ethnically Uzbek (as is the majority of Arslanbob), and their families had been in these parts for generations. They feel connected to Uzbekistan and the Fergana Valley in particular, and have problems living in a Kyrgyz country, where they feel they are often overlooked or prejudiced against by the government. The family was Muslim, and as is mostly the case in Central Asia, their views and faith were mixed. Several times a day, feet were washed and prayers were taken inside the house, but they were also quite happy for us to have a beer in the garden for Rich's birthday.
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| Homestay room, Arslanbob |
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| Beautiful flower garden at homestay, Arslanbob |
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| Traditional shoes, big and small, Arslanbob |
Arslanbob is a unique place in the world, being the largest walnut forest on earth. We arrived at the very beginning of the harvest, when families were starting to move temporarily into the forests in order to be close to their plots and collect the nuts from the ground. We loved the camps with their plastic tarps for tents, kids running around, and many even brought along their chickens.
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| Harvesting walnuts, Arslanbob |
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| Whole families work together |
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| Kid with blackened hands from walnut collecting, Arslanbob |
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| Camp with old container, Arslanbob |
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| Little one in the forest, Arslanbob |
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| Searching for walnuts, Arslanbob |
Once our host family realized we were happy to do our own thing and didn't need help with guides, horses, yurt stays, or any of the other services offered by CBT, they left us happily to spend our days alternately wandering and relaxing. We were asked every day what we wanted for breakfast and dinner, which was a first, and our wishes were accommodated as much as possible. We racked our brains to come up with something special (and possible) for Rich's birthday dinner, and he settled on eggs, chips and salad!!
 |
| Rich's birthday "treat"! |
The village of Arslanbob itself didn't do much for us. We found the charm lacking due to a large amount of building and concrete houses. People had the same nonchalant attitude towards us as most of this region of Kyrgyzstan- they obviously see a lot of tourists here passing through. It wasn't that they were unfriendly at all, rather more uninterested, and that's fair enough! But we still got the odd hello and wave, or handshake in Richard's case, and it was enough for us to enjoy a social aspect.
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| Mixed spices in market, Arslanbob |
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| Butcher in Arslanbob village |
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| Local ladies at Arslanbob market day |
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| The friendliest man in town- thought I'd better take a picture! |
But we had come here for rural beauty. Every day for a week we walked to various points of interest around the village- waterfalls, viewpoints and nearby villages (including the charmingly named Kizil Alma- Red Apple). As well as walnut trees there were many apples, pears, plums and hazelnuts in the area. Small lanes could be busy with people riding horses or leading sheep or cows to the fields. Rich commented about how young some of the kids looked, and imagined in the "West" having a parent tell a six year old to take the cows up the mountain every morning before school!
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| Arslanbob lane |
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| "Busy" morning, Arslanbob |
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| Taking the cows to the pasture, Arslanbob |
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| Wandering |
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| Weird sign at local waterfall, Arslanbob |
But the highlight was the gorgeous walnut forests, with the dappled light and shade, peaceful paths and occasionally passing whole families with blackened hands from collecting the sappy walnuts. There weren't many left on the ground when we walked through- they are pretty sharp eyed at picking up every last one. As it was the beginning of the season, the nuts were still a little green and soft, but we appreciated a few from last year's crop.
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| Inside for walnut forest, Arslanbob |
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| Appreciating the sun and the splendor, Arslanbob |
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| Mucking around with leaves, Arslanbob |
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| Cows are allowed to graze in the forests, Arslanbob |
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| Fresh walnut, Arslanbob |
We were sad to leave our little nest at the guesthouse, and our host's parting comment "If you had any problem while stay here, excuse me" was sweet (and unnecessary!).
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| Inside the walnut forest, Arslanbob |
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| Enjoying a rest and a view, Arslanbob |
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| Gnarled old tree, Arslanbob |
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| Beautiful Arslanbob |
A funny aside- the men of Arslanbob love a hat. This can be said of men in general in Central Asia, but in Arslanbob, there seemed to be an even bigger range. The bog standard baseball cap, traditional embroidered Uzbek hat and knitted skullcap, mingled with fedoras, trilbys and flat caps. Many older men (including our host), dressed like such gentlemen, wearing suit jackets with cardigans underneath, and the ever present hat, even just to go to the fields.
 |
| This man sat in the same place every day |
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| Fedora-wearing man, Arslanbob |
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| Arslanbob ladies |
A couple of days around the very modern town of Jalal-Abad rounded off our time, before we returned to Osh. We thought we'd try our luck again at the local CBT office, only to be shown a horrible shoe box of a room that was more expensive than our lovely big, light filled room in Arslanbob. We declined, and instead found ourselves a terrific room in a local's gastinista (hotel). For a cheaper price we had a room in the centre of town with a double bed and our own bathroom (both luxuries for here!) It was strange to be in Central Asia and walk around a market and not have one single person talk to us, approach us, call out hello or want a photo. This was our experience in Jalal-Abad's main bazaar. Women literally went running and ducking when Rich got his camera out, even if they were not the object of his focus. This market was chock a block full of winter woollies and jackets of all kinds- typical! We were very excited to see big bowls of raspberries, strawberries and blackberries- the berry season we'd been hanging out for had finally arrived! Needless to say, we scoffed a load that night with creamy smetana (yogurt) and felt the effects the following day.
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| Strange toilets in bus station, Jalal-Abad |
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| Jalal-Abad bazaar |
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| Jalal-Abad bazaar |
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| Absolute favourite, raspberries, Jalal-Ababd |
A trip up the hill to visit the nearby sanatorium proved much more rewarding. We love a good Soviet-era sanatorium, as you might have seen in previous blogs. This one wasn't quite as decrepit as other ones we have visited, and quite a lot of building work was going on, unfortunately replacing the falling down and atmospheric old housing with new concrete designs. We loved exploring the grounds, finding ruins and little random buildings around every corner. A stint at a cafe with a beer and a cup of vodka (very sensible way to sell it!) before heading back down the hill rounded off the day.
 |
| In the sanatorium gardens, Jalal-Abad |
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| Abandoned bath house, sanatorium, Jalal-Abad |
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| Wish some people would learn how to use a toilet! |
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| Sanatorium gardens, Jalal-Abad |
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| A wee drinkie (for health reasons- we were at a sanatorium after all!), Jalal-Abad |
Our series of marshrutkas (minibuses) coming back from Arslanbob were a huge improvement on the long journey out there. The shorter trips seemed to cause the drivers to go slower, and we could actually enjoy the scenery without fear of dying. Animals were down from the summer jailoo pastures now, and they dotted the fields- horses, donkeys, sheep and cows all grazing together. Returning from Jalal-Abad to Osh, the misty rain covered any big mountains, and the view was green rolling hills and rice fields growing the famous (!) plov rice.
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| Kyrgyzstan in the Central Asia region |
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| The rough area of Kyrgyzstan we've been travelling in |
...next up, travels in Fergana Valley, Uzbekistan........
The walnut picking scenes capture a sense of place that truly is unique given its low technology approach to the harvest. Also an interesting set of insights through encounter into the nature of political inclusion/exclusion within the tiny nation state. I came to a sense on a previous 6 month sojourn through India (2017-18) that there are a cohort of small vehical operators who actually seek tourists for a freak-out factor,( back back falls off the rear as driver abruptly turns a corner) a position on the back hence I was glad to have my folding bike for lots of small travel stints.
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