Hello Kyrgyzstan

Ethnic violence is far more destructive than any trans-national conflict. The damage it reaps both physically and mentally on people is far deeper than a war between two nations. Immediate neighbours turn on each because of their genetics and then after it’s all over have to come back and work together again. It’s never really solved simply subdued.

Kyrgyzstan, its current state and whether to visit or not has been a constant topic of deliberation and conversation throughout this trip. I left England the day the revolution happened. I had a friend in the country at the time and had to flee to Uzbekistan. I was in Shiraz when talk of genocide cropped up when referring to the ethnic violence of Osh. So it was with trepidation that I headed for the city which had been on CNN for all the wrong reasons. I decided to travel there and away by jeep, I didn’t fancy hanging around for too long. But this didn’t isolate me from the devastating images which confronted me when I arrived. I’d imagined a couple of smashed windows. How naïve I was, most of Osh was closed down and burnt out buildings were everywhere. But what was heartening was the way the city seemed to be getting itself together and moving on. I couldn’t make a distinction or a real opinion of what had happened, there is too much history and politics dating back beyond Stalin sown here. I didn’t take any pictures simply because it didn’t seem right, I walk around subdued for the next couple of days after I’d left. Kyrgyz people asked me, ‘why have you visited Osh?’ I said it wouldn’t be right to visit a country a not visit Osh after what had happened so recently, it was so relevant I couldn’t miss and say I’d visited Kyrgyzstan.

I ran into a friend, Bogdan, in Bishkek and together we headed for Issikul, the furthest lake from any ocean Russians, Kazakhs and Kyrgyz flock to it from miles around. I hadn’t realized how hard Tajikistan had been until I reached Kyrgyzstan. The lush green grass and wide variety of food was like a dream after a month of noodles and bread. It was summed up two days before I headed back to Bishkek. As I did some running repairs on my ailing bike in the evening sun, a herd of wild horses sprung out of the woods and galloped straight past me to take a drink at a nearby lake. I was truly speechless. I headed back to Bishkek to catch a flight back to Heathrow and then to Cornwall. My money was finished, and whilst my full plan wasn’t I knew I’d accomplished what I’d set out to do. To cycle the cultural centre of the world and tackle more than a few geographical obstacles along the way.

One hell of a river ford

I'm still speechless

Last day cycling with Bogdan