The three days that it took to ride down from Song Kol to Bishkek were pretty uneventful. There was one sublime moment of joy that came when the terrible washboard gravel road suddenly ended and I found myself returned to the extraordinary world of asphalt. I don't think I'm exaggerating too much when I say it felt a little bit like being reborn as my wheels rolled smoothly over the paved surface. How fast I could go! How quickly the distance fell away behind me!
One last challenge before you can leave Song Kol. Where's a tall Hungarian when you need one?
So the road was good, but dull, save for the occasional meeting with other cyclists. I met a Dutch couple that were cycling around Kyrgyzstan, although they had almost no stuff on their bikes. The reason for this was that they had hired a vehicle from a company called 'Eco-tours' to follow them carrying their gear. I would have thought a better idea for an 'eco-tour' would be to carry the stuff on the bikes like everyone else and not have the vehicle at all. It was a terrible misnomer and I should have liked to tell the company so, although I agree that 'Un-Eco-Tours' doesn't have quite the same ring to it. So I said nothing, and we talked about the football.
A lake which is not Issyk kul. It looks nice doesn't it, but I wish it had some foreground interest
My best meeting was with Daniel, the solo German cyclist on his way from Vienna to Vladivostock that I had met in Dushanbe. Turned back from the Pamir Highway he had cycled through the Death Tunnel on his way to Bishkek. "It really wasn't that bad" he said. Yeah, with a name like that, sounds like a ball. He'd been in Bishkek for a while getting his Chinese visa and also suggested a great place for me to stay in the city, a bicycle-touring hang-out where I would be able to fix my bike up. It would turn out to be extremely useful advice.
Ah Daniel, my hero. Can I ask for your autograph please?
