Zagreb Vegan Scene: Green Pointby Randi / August 27, 2013 The first thing I felt when I landed, alone, in Zagreb, Croatia was excitement. The second was idiocy, as I was still dressed in my airplane outfit – black pants and a long-sleeved black hooded shirt – and it was hot. Luckily, the excitement won over and I began an incredible journey through the Balkans.
Zagreb is a pretty easy city for a newcomer to maneuver. After getting my luggage (one of these days I’ll do a long trip with just carry-ons, but until then…), I quickly found an ATM and a cab to take me to my hotel. I usually like to rely on public transit in foreign cities, but my Rick Steves guidebook said a taxi was the best way. After nearly 24 hours of traveling, I welcomed the opportunity to be lazy. To go from the airport to the city center costs 180-220 kuna if you aren’t getting ripped off, about $30-$40 USD.
Zagreb is a pretty easy city for a newcomer to maneuver. After getting my luggage (one of these days I’ll do a long trip with just carry-ons, but until then…), I quickly found an ATM and a cab to take me to my hotel. I usually like to rely on public transit in foreign cities, but my Rick Steves guidebook said a taxi was the best way. After nearly 24 hours of traveling, I welcomed the opportunity to be lazy. To go from the airport to the city center costs 180-220 kuna if you aren’t getting ripped off, about $30-$40 USD.
Jelacic Square
As is the case with most European cities, the first (and usually best) thing I did was stroll through the busy downtown. Once you get your bearings with the main piazza, Ban Jelačić Square, and a few main streets like Ilica and Vlaska Ulica, you’ll see how manageable the center is. Of course, if you’re me, you’ll still get turned around every 15 minutes, but still. Better than usual.
Jelačić Square is marked by a large statue of its namesake, Josip Jelačić, riding a horse. Jelačić was governor in the 1800s, and decided that Austria > Hungary and united with the Habsburg Empire against the Hungarians’ attempts to control Croatia.
Jelačić Square is marked by a large statue of its namesake, Josip Jelačić, riding a horse. Jelačić was governor in the 1800s, and decided that Austria > Hungary and united with the Habsburg Empire against the Hungarians’ attempts to control Croatia.
Look, princess, there’s a baby in a basket!
The bustling square acts as a showcase for vendors, people watching, and random things like this amazing children’s ride as part of what seemed like a makeshift Renaissance Faire, as well as the hilarious dunk tank below.
A few blocks from Jelačić Square, you’ll see a funicular that takes you a very short way up the hill to an old village. It’s actually billed as the shortest cable car ride in the world. I’ll leave it to one of you to verify that. I love funiculars almost as much as I love the word funicular, but we just missed our chance to ride it.
A few blocks from Jelačić Square, you’ll see a funicular that takes you a very short way up the hill to an old village. It’s actually billed as the shortest cable car ride in the world. I’ll leave it to one of you to verify that. I love funiculars almost as much as I love the word funicular, but we just missed our chance to ride it.
Dunk tank!
Zagreb Cathedral, Glagolitic alphabet
A visit to the Zagreb Cathedral, considered the most important Catholic church in Croatia, is necessary. Without knowing what to look for, it’s similar to the thousands (millions?) of cathedrals in Europe. But this one houses something remarkable: a wall covered in text written in the Glagolitic alphabet. Invented in the 9th century by the saints Cyril and Methodius, this alphabet was mainly used in Croatia and was the precursor to the modern Cyrillic alphabet.
Zagreb is really trying to draw in tourists!
Widely considered the most important museum in Zagreb, the Croatian Museum of Naïve Art is a lovely little gallery right up the hill from the main square (in the Gradec area). And one the way you might pass some fun natives!
Tickets cost 20 kuna ($3-4), and you can definitely take a leisurely pass through in less than 45 minutes. It comprises six small rooms of peasant art.
Tickets cost 20 kuna ($3-4), and you can definitely take a leisurely pass through in less than 45 minutes. It comprises six small rooms of peasant art.
My favorite painting from the Naive Art Museum
It’s called ‘naïve’ because the artists are technically untrained, but it doesn’t seem like it. My favorite painting featured pink cows. I bought a mouse pad of it. I don’t even use a mouse. But it’s more durable than a postcard of it and was only a few dollars. Isn’t it so cheerful?
My real favorite museum in Zagreb, however, was the Museum of Broken Relationships. You may have heard of it, as the museum has toured around the world. All of the pieces come from people whose relationships have ended, and the donors write a little explanation of the role the object played in the relationship. It can be quite sad (as the numerous wedding albums and gowns attest) but also really funny (consider the baseball bat one donor used to smash an ex’s car (I think)). I wish the funny stuff was positioned later in the exhibit instead of the sad, because I left feeling a bit down, but overall it was a great time. I highly recommend going.
The Museum of Broken Relationships is right across from the Naïve Art Museum and costs the same (20 kuna), but has much better hours, open past 10pm in the summer. I have to mention the woman who sold us our tickets. She was so friendly and excited to meet native English speakers because she had been learning English. She asked if she could test out her skills with us, and she told us a really funny joke, in great English, and was so happy! So nice.
Just up the street from the two museums is St. Mark’s church, covered with a beautiful tiled roof depicting the coat of arms of Croatia, Slovenia, and the seal of Zagreb.
One of the best things about Zagreb, especially in nice weather, is how much green space there is. There are many lovely parks where I suggest you play and picnic, especially in the Green Horseshoe, where more museums also await.
IMPORTANT TIP: Everything has bonkers hours in Croatia. Make sure you find out the correct opening and closing times for EVERYTHING. Check with the Tourist Information Center (right in the Square) to be sure. Here are some things I learned the hard way:
IMPORTANT TIP: Everything has bonkers hours in Croatia. Make sure you find out the correct opening and closing times for EVERYTHING. Check with the Tourist Information Center (right in the Square) to be sure. Here are some things I learned the hard way:
- Even on Saturday nights (maybe especially?) restaurants will close very early. If you have my luck, the restaurants you are dying to try will be closed before 7:30pm and will REJECT YOU when you arrive at 7pm unaware that shit is crazy. Most others will close by 8pm.
- Museums are usually closed on Sundays.
- The Croatian Museum of Naïve Art – the #1 museum to see in this city – is only open on Saturdays from 10am-1pm. That’s the only day I had open, but you can easily get through it in 30 minutes while still appreciating it, so do like I did and hit it when it opens so you don’t miss it.
- In July, it can be really warm and sunny and then BOOM THUNDERSTORM. I lucked out and the rain moved quickly (and I was inside), but it was really heavy.
The restaurants closing so early on Saturday nights is still making me angry, because I was turned away from Zrno, which my friend raved about, and I had no other chance to go. Luckily, Green Point, the fast food vegetarian burger joint, was still open.
READ ABOUT GREEN POINT!
READ ABOUT THE ART OF RAW, THE MOST AMAZING RAW VEGAN RESTAURANT!
READ ABOUT VEGEHOP, AN ALL VEGETARIAN RESTAURANT!
Also luckily, the street food vendors were still selling their corn on the cob. Yup, this is the most common street food we saw. Love it!
The hotel I stayed at, the Hotel President Pantovcak, was very nice. It’s at the top of a hill just northeast of the city center, a great location but a beast to walk up if you are not in great shape and/or if it’s too hot. Just fyi. The rooms were clean, and the receptionist was friendly and helpful.
The most important thing about Zagreb left to say:
Buy as much Bajadera chocolate as you can carry in the extra suitcase you packed just for this purpose. You’re welcome.
Buy as much Bajadera chocolate as you can carry in the extra suitcase you packed just for this purpose. You’re welcome.
…While you’re at it, get some Griotte cherry-filled chocolates, and a box or five of Napolitanke. Get it all. Bring me some.
Enjoy!
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Madeira, Portugal: Lovely Little Island Paradise (for Oldies and Old-Adjacents)
Not just a fortified wine! The small island of Madeira, off the southwest coast of Portugal, is a popular resort-holiday spot for European vacationers, and for dern good reason. One of two autonomous regions of Portugal, Madeira is gorgeous, relaxing, and manageable enough to see in a short visit. Quiet but not boring, the best thing to do there is enjoy the scenery and the vibe, not run to check off a list of museums and sights that tourists must *absolutely* do like in many places, so you are free to enjoy your time in a stress-free and carefree manner. Because it’s one of the most popular cruise ship ports, it’s hella filled with white-haired people at all times. Also, the resorts tend to cater to families more than young adults, but happily that means nightlife is not the focus (i.e. you don’t hear awful house music emanating from clubs when you are in bed at 10pm). My kind of place!
The largest city on Madeira is Funchal, and we spent our whole time exploring this great city. If you like to hike and climb mountains and be cold and stuff, the hills outside the city might be cute for you, but Funchal was a perfect base to learn about the culture and people of Madeira (and to swim in an indoor pool (honestly my fave)). Although the weather in Funchal is pretty much always pleasant, it doesn’t get very hot (especially in December, when we were there). But that’s fine because, despite being an island, it’s not a beach town. Madeira was formed of volcanic eruptions and so is rocky and volcanoey, without the sandy beaches you might be thinking of when you hear ‘island paradise’. Kind of like the pretty side of Santorini. Unless you’re visiting via cruise ship (and so more aware of the ocean aspect), it’s best to think of Funchal as a lovely, pleasant European town that just happens to be an island closest to Africa.
Like all lovely and pleasant European towns, Funchal is best introduced through a stroll. We walked around with no particular aim on our first day and found beautiful city gardens open to the public, lots of fountains and statues (and stories!), and lots of cruise passengers. Walking in view of the marina (but not super close to it; marinas tend to be more industrial looking close-up) and thus the ocean was beautiful and instantly transporting. I love getting to know a city through aimless strolling, and Funchal is one of the best for that.
oh this piece of shit
In our strolling, we chanced upon various Christmas markets, which European towns hella love having. I guess saying we ‘chanced’ upon it is kind of misleading because it was almost Christmastime so it should have been hundo p expected at every step of the way. If we didn’t see one it would have been weird. There were long parts of main streets overtaken by street vendors (mostly with alcohol) as well as kid-friendly areas repping that north pole spirit.
When I said before that most of the street offerings were alcoholic, I bet you thought of Madeira wine. And while that was everywhere, the real star of the market stalls was ginjinha, a traditional Portuguese liquor made from ginja (sour cherry) berries. We became acquainted with ginjinha during our first trip to mainland Portugal, where we saw little shops selling the stuff on every block and saw Portoguesers line up outside to drink it in little shots. It’s a potent sumbitch, and trying it once what, 8 years ago? would be enough for me, especially considering that might have been the last time I had alcohol, but these vendors were Christmassing it up by serving it in little chocolate cups. After one vendor confirmed that the chococups were dairy-free, I had to get one.
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you can see I tried to just eat the chocolate but then realized that wasn’t going to work |
The ginja (for short) wasn’t my favorite match for a little cup of chocolate (that would be peanut butter) but it was nice to get chocolate and an experience in one go.
The festive spirit spread all over town, with amusement parks popping up in the center and art installations or what have you, I’m not really sure what to call it but there were THINGS and we walked INTO THEM like this cool jawn:
so pretty right but what to call it? an inside out xmas tree? cool cool cool
Although strolling and chilling are great, we did have a list of things to do and see in Funchal. First up was the Madeira Botanical Garden. It’s open to the public now but was previously part of an estate belonging to William Reid, the founder of Funchal’s premiere hotel, Reid’s Palace, which you can stay in if you are Jeff Bezos I guess. (#billionairesareinherentlyimmoralandshouldntexist) It’s fancy and expensive like a real lot, is what I’m saying. Anyway the Botanical Garden, or in Portuguese the Jardim Botanico da Madeira (much better if only because I love the word ‘jardim’ for garden a) it sounds prettier and b) it sounds like what happens when my mom tries to say Javier Bardem too quickly) is a great place to explore on a sunny afternoon. Funchal, and Madeira in general, has an exorbitant number of beautiful gardens to visit, and this one features mainly non-flower specimens like trees and succulents, which sound delicious.
little lizard friend!
all of Eleanor’s files
While it’s cool to be on Madeira but have it look like you’re in Arizona, the Javier Bardem Botanico isn’t my top garden recommendation unless you really like cacti. No, the best garden in Funchal is my favorite place of the whole trip, the Baller Gardens. Oh that’s what I wrote in my notes. It’s apparently actually called the Jardim Tropical Monte Palace.
up in the treetops of the jungle area
Whereas the Jardim Botanico was reminiscent of a desert climate, the Tropical Monty will make you feel like you’re in every other part of the world, from Africa to China to the jungles of South America. It’s an enormous town unto itself, with exotic plants and extravagant design elements that make for an endless maze of mind-blowing views.
you bet i hopped across that !
This sign stands in front of an olive tree that the Romans planted in 300 BC! That’s super long ago! |
Hey super old tree! Did you know Cato (obvs I mean Cato the Elder) |
like a scene out of a GOTTAMN FAIRY TALE
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These pictures show maybe half the grounds. It goes on forever and I highly recommend leaving a whole afternoon to explore and relax. There’s even a whole museum of Zimbabwean sculptures on the grounds!
Both of the gardens I’ve shared are located to the east of the city center, and they’re both up Monte Funchal. And when they say Monte, they mean Monte, as in, the top of a mountain. All of Madeira is very, shall we say, bumpy, so you need to plan how you get to the outskirts of the city center. We took a local bus to the Jardim Botanico, and it was a harrowing journey. It’s bad enough when you’re trying to navigate those super narrow cliff-face roads going round and round and round and hoping no opposing traffic comes. It’s worse when you are doing this on a big public bus. Man alive!
Happily, we had a different plan for the Tropically Monty, as I call my new fave place. Funchal has a cable car, and it goes from the center directly to the grounds of the Tropical Monte Palace! We love a good cable car or funicular, but this one is EXTRA. Funchal’s teleferico, as its called, is one of the longest ones in the world, with a ride over the gorge of 15 minutes! It doesn’t sound like a whole lot but it feels like a whole lot when you are that high about mountain crevices. Luckily the views distracted me from the impending sense of doom.
We picked out a lot of ‘future houses’ on these rides up and down! How cool would it be to have a lovely little terracoota roofed home on the side of a cliff with NO NEIGHBORS MAKING NOISE sigh that’s the life.
At the top of the Monte Palace (Monty Hall?) there’s a cafe and fortunately the only thing I could make out was vegan is also the best thing: fried semolina wedges. It was the perfect little snack before all the gardening.
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why yes i DO have a bomb appetite |
Not everything was perfectly loverly though. We did a thing that seemed like The Thing To Do so we did it, but it was Not the Thing For Me. I’m talking about a whale-watching boat tour. The boat, the company, the accommodations all were great. But. Apparently I get seasick! I enjoyed the amazing views for about 20 minutes and then I spent the remaining hours bent over the side of the boat. SO GROSS. So not fun. At least I wasn’t the only one; we were dropping like flies. The worst part is that we didn’t see any whales! Booo-arf!
boats are monsters
my main view
But one unfortunate experience of the trip is still a pretty great ratio, and now I know that boat tours are my enemies. And we still have so much to talk about! Namely, lodging and, namelier, food! That’ll be the next post. Until then, my dear-a! DO YOU GET IT.
Traveling Through Kyrgyzstan, Part 1: The Return to the Yurt Camps
If you’ve been a devoted reader of this here website, then you know that I ABSOLUTELY ADORE sleeping outside in the countryside and worrying 24/7 about bathroom access. Readers familiar with my simply outstanding time in Mongolia will be happy to know that there’s more of that coming. That’s right, our first night in Kyrgyzstan, discussed in the previous post about our entry into this country, was the first night of several back in the yurt camps of my youth. In addition to our first night booked with Kubat Tours, we had an eight-day tour of the country booked with the company NoviNomad, and I was so nervous that it would mirror our Mongolian adventure in more ways than the structure of our sleeping shelters. And while it did – it really did in a few ways – this experience was roughly 100 times better than that in Mongolia, so much so that we said many times “Kyrgyzstan is what Mongolia wishes it could be.” Such a catchy catchphrase right?
Hold on though, because we still had some serious trials and tribulations, especially in the early days. And I’ll be sharing all of them because as expected I wrote diary entries every day. To keep track of all the many things we did and so I don’t get confused with my notes, I’m going to keep the diary entries numbered according to the day of the tour – 1 to 8 – even though it started on our second day in Kyrgyzstan. Don’t be confused it’s okay.
DAY 1
“Maybe this time…I’ll be lucky”
After our night in Tash Rabat, we drove two hours to Naryn, the main city (town) in the Naryn region of Kyrgyzstan. I mean, if another town claimed the title from Naryn when the region is named after it I bet there’d be some dramaaaa. The driver dropped us at a guest house used by the NoviNomad tour company, where we were to meet our driver for the week, Alexandr. I’m spelling it like that because it’s the Russian version and they do that e-less business and it helps you do the accent right. A very Russian (gruff, imposing…not huggable) man came out and said his name was Sacha and he would be our driver for the next 8 days. We were like no our driver is named Alexandr I’m getting so good at saying it in a Russian accent don’t take that away from me! (It was important that we got our right driver because we didn’t pay the (exorbitant) extra price for a guide but were promised an English-speaking driver who could generally do both jobs.) Sacha was not amused and was like, ‘yeah, Sacha, Alexandr, same thing’. Both of us said ohhh riiiiight because we forgot that Sacha is the diminutive/informal/cutesey nickname for Alexandr. I DON’T GET IT EITHER BUT IT’S TRUE. (I then sang the relevant part from “The Great Comet” in my head literally the entire rest of the day: “Countess Natalya Ilyinichna Rostova” “You must call me Natasha”…”Sofia Alexandrovna Rostova” “You must call me Sonia”.) So Mr. I-Won’t-Make-Small-Talk-Or-Be-Warm-And-Jovial-But-It’s-Just-Because-I’m-Like-So-Russian-Not-Because-I’m-Rude packed our stuff in his SUV, where he had a case of water bottles (amazing already), and drove us the far, far distance of…across the street. Our first stop was the Naryn Museum – not wasting any time, just gasoline.
The Naryn museum had this reproduction of a yurt’s dining area, which really looks like all the dining yurt setups at every camp we’d see in Kyrgs except the table settings in real life are gorgeous and abundant
The staff at the museum was HELLA excited for our arrival, and the main lady brought us around and described every item of Kyrgyz history and culture in that small museum in Russian, and had Sacha translate (roughly). The rest of the staff – wayyy too many ladies considering how small and not busy it was – followed us around and offered us bowls of traditional Kyrgyz things that we’d seen on the yurt dinner table (like, weird dried cheese bits, and those Chinese restaurant crunchy noodles which are everywhere). Our own little private awkward tour. It was really nice though, and I could tell it was a very nice museum even if I was too distracted by how much I wanted to tell the ladies ‘you don’t have to be on your best behavior for me!’
Naryn city center
After the tour, we went to the city center for an art museum that was managed by an 8-year-old boy who let us in and turned the lights on. Not weird. It was a good museum, actually, which is quite something considering how sick of museums I am. We went to a cafe for lunch after, and I had my first tomato-cucumber salad of many because of course that’s all I’m going to be able to eat in Central Asia; why should that tradition of my Asian travels ever have to end? I also had a plate of grilled vegetables, the other thing I would come to have pretty much every day for the next month. But hey, it’s veggies!
After lunch, we saw the Naryn mosque, which is covered with pretty blue tiles. It’s a very quick stop because you generally just look from the front and that’s that.
Then we went to the marketplace in Naryn. We thought we’d have to buy our food for the next few days, until the next market stop, as we did on the tour of Mongolia. But it wasn’t clear how long we had to account for and what sorts of things we needed to get; Sacha was like ‘you should get fruit’ (to me) and then kind of told Z he wouldn’t need anything, just whatever he wanted. So confusing! We bought some fruit and Sacha bought a watermelon, and then we figured out from him that that night’s yurt camp would provide our dinner. We didn’t figure out for a few days that ALL our yurt camps and lodging would account for our food (except the meals in restaurants and stuff obviously) in big communal meals so we didn’t actually have to worry about anything! Already so different!
Sacha bought a watermelon and I was sooo excited to see if Kyrgyz watermelon was as good as Xinjiang watermelon. Spoiler: It was. We began our first long drive of the week, towards Song Kul Lake, way up in the mountains at 3000+ meters (almost 10000 feet!). Yes, our first night at Tash Rabat was just slightly higher, but we drove down to get to Naryn and now had to go back up. I’m so into elevation now. Song Kul is right smack in the middle of Kyrgyzstan, so we were already covering some serious ground. Fun fact: Song Kul is covered in snow 200 days of the year, and the SUMMER average temperature is 50 degrees. FAHRENHEIT. Shit’s cold. First, we would stop at a beautiful waterfall on the way. We parked at a random spot halfway up a mountain and hiked to the waterfall and it was beautiful! I was so happy: we had broken up a long drive with a hike, and I had fruit. Already better than I feared.
THERE IT IS I SEE IT
After we saw the waterfall, Sacha cut the watermelon and kept giving us piece after piece. It was amazing, probably because all the aspects of this excursion included my favorite thing (water, get it). I was so giddy on Day 1 being so much better than the last Day 1 of a country tour that the next half of the drive to Song Kul was like a punch to the gut. Like, it really was, considering it was full of watermelon and the roads starting getting scary. They were really windy, winding up and up around the mountain like those cliffside terrors in Italy (I did not look out the window) and then they started getting Mongolian – as in, no roads, just rocky terrain. It was really rough for a few hours as we maneuvered over rocks as we went higher and higher up a mountain, so that was something else. Don’t look down! Finally we got to a clearing and got out so Sacha could show us the small hills that were ancient gravesites, the likes of which are all over the country. It was interesting but not as great as the fact that the field was covered in edelweiss, and when Sacha informed us of this fact, he started singing “Edelweiss” to himself for like, a long time. Maybe we will get along, Gruff Russian, maybe we will become best friends indeed.
winding mountain roads
SUPER winding mountain roads
No roads, yes animals
Finally we got to our camp on Song Kul, although it wasn’t so much ‘on’ or ‘near’ Song Kul as it was ‘closer to that lake than any other lake in the world’. You couldn’t see it from the camp but we got a picture from the drive. The camp was pretty decent otherwise – there are REAL TOILETS in little wooden shacks! And there’s a sink – not a bucket sink, but a real sink piping out freezing cold water. The wooden toilet shack is actually two toilet stalls and two ‘shower’ stalls, which have basins and buckets of various sizes for doing bathing via buckets but hey if it works! Luxury!
Dinner was mix of the same vegetables as always now, plus a plate of kasha and rice. I was super pumped to get kasha; it’s actually a good protein source. It was an awkward as ass dinner though, because it was communal, as all future ones would be, and they tell you where to sit, and I was seated in the very center of a semi-circle. Z wasn’t feeling well so skipped it, so here I was in the middle of 30 some people just being weird and awkward and silent. The two groups on either side of me were both big tour groups, so they were very talkative among themselves but also very curious about me and just staring like hey what’s your deal? To get to my position I had to step on everyone already seated (you sit on the floor in the yurts) because the table was around the edge of the yurt. I also left early because hell if I was going to sit and be stared at any longer than I needed to and so upon leaving I also stepped on 15 people. Fun times.
After dinner, I asked if I could shower – I hadn’t since China, remember. The yurt people boiled some water and brought it into the stall for me. So inside this wooden stall is a basin of the boiled water, a tub of cold water, and various buckets and utensils for mixing the two and pouring over yourself. So, maybe in my eagerness to be ‘clean’ I didn’t think this through all the way. See, it was freezing outside. Remember I said last night that it was the coldest I’d ever been? Well, now let’s travel into an even colder region and then VOLUNTARILY BE WET. I was shaking-shivering even before I poured the water over myself the first time. I tried to shave my legs but they were so be-goosebumped that it was extremely painful and I couldn’t do it, it would have just resulted in the little bumps bleeding. I knowww! I used mostly boiling water and just didn’t stop shivering. The sink was outside the stalls, in the freezing wind, so I had to use that when I was done to brush my teeth and stuff. I have never been that cold in my life. As soon as I could, I ran back the 220 paces to our yurt (that’s right, the toilets were better here but farther! 220 paces!!) and flopped on my mattress with literally 15 blankets and quilts over me. We were luckily in what appeared to be a storage yurt, so the sides were filled with stacks of extra mattress pads, quilts, and blankets. I used everything I could carry. Getting in and out of that contraption for my nighttime peeing (right outside the yurt that’s right) required all my strength to lift it off of me, it was so hilarious, like a reverse princess and the pea. I could make another pee joke with that but I won’t. Anyway it barely worked. See, blankets and stuff keep warmth in, but they don’t generate warmth; you have to do that yourself with your body. So if one’s body, say, refuses to generate any heat to begin with, you’re just a cold fool under 4 mattress pads, 9 blankets, and 6 quilts. I shook all night. Man alive.
Day 2
“Into the woods and who can tell what’s waiting on the journey”
The next morning, I was in no mood. The car was locked and I was out of water, and the yurt owner people didn’t have any, and Sacha was nowhere to be found. Finally one of his guide friends told us he was still sleeping. LUCKY HIM. I was so tired and thirsty and miserableh. Someone got Sacha and he opened the car and I drank 2 liters right there in front of him. So, why were we up and he wasn’t? Well, today, Day 2, we would hike 10 kilometers (pretty long!) to our next yurt camp with a local Kyrgyz guide, giving Sacha the day off, plus most of tomorrow off while we did another long hike with the local guide to the next-next camp, where Sacha would be waiting. There were no roads or paths or anything so navigating around the mountains required local expertise, from someone born in this area. The local guide didn’t speak English, which really pissed me off at NoviNomad because they never told us this part. Luckily he spoke Russian (everyone does here) so we personally were fine but no one at NoviNomad knew that we knew any Russian (they don’t know that we know they know we know!) so they were okay with their tourists just not being able to communicate? FIE.
Luckily there was a dog.
The yurt people had him tied up (cryface) but I was told it’s because he’s a baby and there’s like not a fence or any sort of boundary because we are just out in the open so it’s until he learns not to run away? I wanted to take him. Oh but wait till tonight’s camp!
So we left our Song Kul yurt camp (bye toilets) and began our 10K trek to our next yurt camp in the jailoo of Kelemche. Jailoo is the name of the type of landscape, these sprawling summer pastures in the mountains that are used for cattle and all kinds of pasture activities, I don’t know. I know you’re probably like 10 kilometers is nothing hush your face, but it was mostly uphill! Ahhh! But it was pretty. OH so, this was supposed to be a horse trek to Kelemche jailoo, following by another even longer horse trek tomorrow from Kelemche to Kyzart village, our next destination. But after Mongolia we emailed NoviNomad and we were like NOPE CUT THE HORSES NO MORE HORSE RIDING WE WILL JUST WALK XOXO gossip girl. Luckily the very helpful Madina, who helped us plan everything, said that it was doable by foot, even though she didn’t really understand why we were so vehemently anti-horse riding all of a sudden. (Horse riding sucks.)
Our local guide was named Melis, I’m definitely not spelling it right but it sounded like that. He was pretty great except he was clearly amused by how slow we were compared to him. We didn’t grow up climbing these mountains like you did, MELIS! He rode a horse because he had no problem with them and put our day packs and water in the saddle bags (sorry horsie I’ll drink fast). And we just trudged behind him. Kind of hilarious.
Hiking uphill, the whole first half of the trek, was really difficult at this altitude, which made it harder than it would have been otherwise. At a particularly pretty stretch, we stopped for a picnic that Melis had packed us. It was nice but so funny: whole cucumbers, whole tomatoes, and boiled potatoes, plus bread and fruit. If I didn’t hate raw tomatoes beforehand, having to bite into them like handfruit (THEY’RE NOT FRUIT FOR HUMAN PURPOSES) did the trick. The nectarines and peaches he brought were superb. What is it about the fruit in this region! I’ve never really noticed a difference, even in tropical places, with quality of fruit before. While we ate, we saw our first other hikers of the entire day! We had seen a decent amount of horseback riders (not a ton – we were still in the middle of Kyrgyzstan – but a decent amount taking that into consideration) but here were our first fellow walkers. They were trudging with even more difficulty than we were, so I joked to Melis, “See we are not the slowest people out here!” Melis responded, “but they have their packs on.” Duuuuuude you’re not supposed to burn your clients like that! Gonna pretend the Russian was something else and I misunderstood.
i was planning to pee behind this rock but then this horseback tourist decided to sit on it for some deep thinking ughhhh white boys
i fucking hate this hat why does it refuse to reform into ANY other shape that doesn’t make me look like a cartoon rancher. ps i’m wearing like 4 shirts
The second half was slightly downhill, which was easier on the lungs but harder for me. Why? Because the path was all tiny little pebbles and rocks, and for some reason (seriously if anyone knows please tell me), whenever I step on little pebbles and rocks, I skid. Badly! I despise gravel paths! No matter how I walk or what shoes I wear or how I balance or how much I brace my core, I skid on all gravelly paths. It’s RIDICULOUS. I nearly fell every few steps and Z was like SERIOUSLY WHAT IS HAPPENING? Am I missing something very obvious about how to walk on these things? Did I fake illness that day in Necessary Human Skills school? Damn my love of sleep!
We got to our next camp a little after noon. It was, how do you say, ah yes, not nice. It was actually probably the most dilapidated and whack camp yet. We had nothing to do the rest of the day, no activities or anything, so I spent a lot of time taking inventory of our yurt. There were holes in the shelter covered over with clear plastic bags. There were ants everywhere because there wasn’t a real floor covering, just a bit of carpet but then mostly grass. A weird, heavy anchor swung down from the center hole, I’m sure to keep it standing but we’d never seen that in any of the previous yurts. It was a small yurt and the mattresses on the floor were positioned right around the anchor so I hit it A LOT, and it was f-ing heavy. Like, an anchor.
So I was complaining a lot about how gross this camp was, and Z got quiet and said, “Hey…were you a Girl Scout?” Um have we met? Hell no I wasn’t a Girl Scout, I wasn’t even a Brownie! I just went to all the Disney on Ice shows with the Brownie troop because I was friends with the leader’s kid! I have such great Disney souvenir cups from my Icees. Anyway, so no, not a Girl Scout. He then asked, “Wait, have you ever camped before?” Again, nice to meet you! No I haven’t camped, like in tents and stuff? With the ELEMENTS? f that noise! I never even had to go on the obligatory one-night-in-the-woods camping trip at overnight camp! Z got even quieter and then said, “I wish I knew that before this trip.”
Apparently the picnic wasn’t our actual lunch, because soon we were called to lunch in the food yurt with the family who lived there and a bunch of random shepherds. It was AWK. They were all speaking Kyrgyz to each other and we just kinda sat there. The food was good, some kind of yummy cabbage and potato filled crepe-y thing. I liked that everyone was given the same meal, like because of my veganism I made everyone skip meat for a meal. Yay! I think I heard them say that I eat a lot of watermelon though.
I was excited that the outhouse area, despite being up THE STEEPEST HILL EVER, had a real toilet inside. Unfortunately, the toilet was broken, so we were to use the regular out shithouse farther up the steep af hill. This hellshack was tied for first with worst campsite toilet I’d ever seen, so THAT wasn’t great! Luckily our yurt was at the end of the camp so I didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing me out there. Except a cow and a few dogs at night who were REALLY unhappy that I was in their space. Dudes.
But it was all okay, because my little Bearnutfriend was there.
DO YOU SEE THE ABSOLUTE BEAR NUTTERY OF THIS LITTLE BOY BEAR BUTTER??? OH MY GOD!!! I played with him the rest of the night. Little guy omg! One of the other tourists tied him up (MEAN!) because he was a biter – and I mean a real biter. He had little baby butter teeth so it didn’t really hurt but he didn’t really stop DID you you little nutter butter bear baby you! I LOVED HIM. I really wanted to take him home, so badly. But the little kids who lived there took good care of him.
Here I am saying, “Little bear baby! I thought we talked about biting! No biting silly button butter! We talked about this!”
And then here I am saying, “Oh I can’t stay mad at you little boopily bear baby you’re too cute here’s my hand again you can bite it”
Of course I untied this little bugger. And of course then he started biting my ankles, right through my HeatTech leggings (which don’t work anyway UNIQLO).
Near the camp was a natural spring that we could fill our water bottles with! We were really hesitant about whether it was actually safe to drink; Melis said it was but our soft Western tumnuses require different levels of safety than hardier folk. But despite actually seeing horses drinking from the same place, we did not get sick! Yippee! The water poured out superfast from a little spot above a creek and it was a fun adventure to try to fill the jugs without falling in the creek.
Dinner was another communal affair but with a more friendly tourist group tonight, a group of Swiss and Israelis. The Swiss girl closest to us who we chatted with called Israelis ‘Israelian’. LOVES IT! Dinner for me was the vegetable filling from lunch, plus – you know it – a cucumber-tomato salad. Do we ever expect anything different? I love the traditional Kyrgyz table setting, though. They have all been so lovely, with baskets of bread, baskets of the Chinese noodle jawns, plates of the Chinese noodle jawns but fried in sugar, bowls of apples, bowls of wrapped candies, plates upon plates of melons, and fancy little glass containers filled with assorted jams for tea (or bread, I guess, but I definitely became a convert to the whole putting-jam-in-your-tea thing. Well, I hate tea, but when I was forced to drink it. We’ll get there).
Guess what! I actually slept that night! It was still freezing, but we had a fire, and because the yurt was smaller than our storage yurt the night before, the fire actually heated the little space. Also we were like 1000 meters lower now. The stars were GLORIOUS. Not as incredible as that one night in Mongolia on the lake was, but still the second best I’ve ever seen. I noticed that every night I pee while looking at Orion’s belt; I’m just always oriented that way. WEIRD. Z told me I talk about peeing too much. Lol gurl please. I share literally every detail of what we do (mostly for me when my memory goes) and I just happen to spend most of my time peeing. You’d rather NOT read about a person’s bodily functions? HA!
Part 2 soon!
