Crossing the Torugart Pass: Our First Day in Kyrgyzstan

After our six weeks in China, we planned to leave the western Xinjiang region of the country and enter Kyrgyzstan, one of the harder ‘stan names for me to remember in the past that would soon become my favorite one. But the journey from ‘wait that’s a real country’ to ‘this is my favorite stan’ is a long one, one that doesn’t resolve in this post or even the next one – first we have to cross a scary mountain pass to enter the country, and then we have more time in yurt camps! I know! Again! That’s the next post; I know you can’t wait to read more about how terrible I am in the outdoors. Today, let’s talk about that mountain pass: the Torugart Pass, one of the lesser-known, lesser-traversed ways of going from Kyrgyzstan to China or vice versa. 

​On this auspicious Monday, we woke up at 7am, after going to bed at 1:30am (so much repacking! and showering!) and not sleeping at all really because I knew I had to wake up for a thing (my worst habit), and we began our Kyrgyzstani journey. We planned to cross from China into Kyrgyzstan by one of the most complicated methods – the Torugart Pass. We are silly. We hired Kubat Tours (based in Naryn, Kyrgyzstan) to handle our crossing, and they hired Old Town Tours (based in Kashgar) to handle the Chinese end. OTT (yeah you know me) was actually 100x better and more professional than the Kubat guys, which is a shame because we only had the former a short time, while Kubat also arranged our first yurt camp night once we got through the border so we were stuck with the asshat from that company (Kubat’s son, it turned out) for longer. 

So at 7am we said goodbye to Dominic at the Radisson Blu Kashgar and said hello to our nice driver and nice English-speaking guide from Old Town Tours, who would drive us the several hours through literal west-bumblefuck China from Kashgar to the Kyrgyz border. We prepared for the long day of car, police, thirst, and painful bladder as we ventured to cross the Torugart Pass, a mountain crossing from China’s Xinjiang region into Kyrgyzstan. The Torugart Pass is a Class II border – meaning only citizens of the two bordered countries can use it. So how do we and other tourists (not a lot, but still others) cross it? You must, and I mean MUST, hire a Chinese guide and car to take you up the one side, and you MUST hire a Kyrgyz guide and car to pick you up on the other side. I mean it. Well, they mean it. They won’t let you past even the first checkpoint (of many) on the Chinese side, I don’t think, if your Kyrgyz car hasn’t arrived at the border fence yet. The Chinese driver hands you off and you walk a few steps over the actual/final border into the waiting Kyrgyz car. There are a lot of times you’ll think you went through immigration for the last time, but you’d be wrong. This pass is not exactly a tourist hotspot, as you are not allowed in or out without this setup, in either direction.

The drive to the first border checkpoint was mostly dirt and mountains, and it was quite pretty. Well, first, we had to stop at OTT offices to reprint our very crucial documents because they had made mistakes in our names. You can’t see it, but I’m rolling my eyes so hard that it is probably dangerous. Every company we dealt with in China asked us repeatedly to make sure that we double and triple and 100-timesple checked our passport details because Chinese officials are very strict about everything being right, and of course despite sending copies of our passports multiple times, this company was the one to screw up and not us. ughhh. Anyway, we drove through Kashgar and I noticed a cab with its display reading ‘8/15/2008 18:58’ and I was like ‘sure that is close enough to the actual date, 8/28/2017 at 9am, this is probably a good sign.’ 

My first pee stop was behind an abandoned (so the driver said, but I don’t know) stone facade in a desert-like expanse that was already starting to look like Mongolia. Remember back during that trip, how I reacted the first time someone suggested I simply find a place to hide in order to pee? My how I’ve changed – stopping by this facade was my idea. 

Soon we entered a more mountainous region with little to speak of besides a few random shacks and small farms, a region the guide called No Man’s Land. We stopped at a few passport control kiosks on the road where Chinese officials just looked at ours from the car. It was not exceedingly stressful.

Despite all the red tape, we were not the only tourists crossing the pass today – but we were at Chinese immigration with literally everyone else using it today! The timing of passing is very specific, so your driver will make sure to get you to the Chinese side by a certain time because outside of that window, you’re screwed. Or at least they are supposed to make sure of it. So all the crossing tourists were there at the same time. At about noon (China time, so 10am Kyrgyz time), we were at one of the final Chinese immigration posts, the kind you have to actually go inside. Once inside, we met the others, our first tourists in a while – a Dutch couple and a huge bus filled with senior citizens from Australian and New Zealand. That’s everyone who crossed the Torugart on this day. We had lots of time to chat with them because nothing was on when we arrived  – like I said, this was it, no one had arrived before us or anything. So we had to wait while they found people to turn the machines on (turn the machines back on!!). Then the Chinese officials checked our passports – they did a check at a regular border-control-looking window as our bags were x-rayed (the extent of the baggage inspection, actually, for the entire day) but then after that, in the same place, our passports were collected and pored over by people in a secure room, for like 30 minutes or more, which was weird. This building had one squat toilet for each gender, and the stalls did not have doors.

While we all waited the long time for our passports, we also had to wait for our vehicles to make it through inspection. Apparently, we didn’t get there at a time that suited the Chinese officials (even though we were all there the same time, so, it seemed right) so they made the cars wait extra long before okaying them. Boolsheet. So we got to know our fellow intrepid travelers. The Dutch couple had booked with Kubat as well, so we were with them that evening in the yurt camp and got to talk to them a lot. The elders from Australia and New Zealand – traveling on a giant bus so maybe 40 of them? – were doing a big tour of lesser-known Jewish stuff around Asia, like visiting small synagogues and meeting Jewish communities in random places all over tarnation. They were all Jewish themselves, mostly linked from their community back home, and I said “Oh I’m Jewish!” and they said “Yeah we thought so.” Ummmm okay? Is it my frizzies around my hairline or my nose that gave it away? They told me about all the surprising Jewish communities from Beijing to Almaty and asked if we found any in China ourselves and I said “I found really good bagels in Kashgar! Did you try them?” I have a one-track mind. It was nice talking with other travelers though; I thought I hated other travelers but maybe I just hate yoots. One lady in the old Jews group was originally from the UK, so she knew our neighborhood in London and asked if we went up to Finchley or the surrounds at all – that’s the Jewish area of London – and I said “Oh I go to Golder’s Green a lot because that’s where the Kosher Kingdom store is and that’s the only place to buy good pretzels!” They smiled politely. 

Finally we got the China exit stamp from this stop and drove an hour or two down to the next please-exit-China-here fence, but they were on their freaking lunch break. They said it could be a 90 minute wait. So this was our punishment from the last group of officials who held our cars too long; they knew we would then get to this stop on their lunch break. So frustrating. We took our lunch break (raisins and bagels that we luckily brought because OTT did not bring us food, or water) in the back of the van. There was an open toilet thank goodness; it was abysmal. Finally they finished lunch and opened the fence to let us out of China. GUYS NO MORE CHINA! 40 days and 40 nights is a lot! We out! 

​On the other side of the fence was our Kyrgyz car and guide from Kubat Tours. The Dutch couple (the non-Jews) (hey hey hey we were the majority at the Torugart Pass! Map it!) also booked with them so we were all picked up by Kubat’s dumb son and another driver. The Son smokes a lot and is quite unfriendly. We drove to the Kyrgyz entry point, the four of us tourists now moving together for the rest of the day. We got stamped by a guy behind a window who clearly did not expect to have to work today, and I used another gross toilet despite being super dehydrated. Then we drove to another building onsite, and The Son, the driver, and a border guard who hitched the short ride with us got out, went in a building, and I think just hung out for 10 minutes because they are buddies. We just sat in the car and waited. So ridiculous and unprofessional. They finally came out with another guy who came over to the car and laughed at us and asked where we were from (a question that we hated by this point and that would enrage us beyond control by the end of our travels). 

Finally we left and drove farther into Kyrgyzstan towards Tash Rabat, with just a few stay-in-the-car checkpoints en route. Tash Rabat is an ancient (15th century) caravanserai, kind of like a country inn for travelers to rest for a night during their travels but bare and made of stone and very Game of Thrones looking. It was pretty cool to see, and we were staying in a yurt camp within walking distance. 

It was probably an hour and a half drive from the entry to Tash Rabat and I had to pee sooo badly. And it was suddenly super cold! It was such a sudden change like China had said byeee we are keeping all of our warmth from you now! But really, it’s because we were sooo high in the mountains now. Kashgar’s elevation was 1300 meters. Tash Rabat’s? 3600 METERS. I didn’t realize this until a few days later, but this was the highest elevation I’d ever been to in my life. It’s also at a level that could be dangerous for people who aren’t acclimated to it, so thank god I was okay. And I’m such a worrier that I bet if I knew in advance that this elevation could pose problems for a newbie like me, I would have for sure felt sick. Scary! So dangerous! 

The Dutch couple from the crossing was staying at our same yurt camp, and they were sticking with The Son for a country tour for the whole week, while we luckily went off with the much better NoviNomad tour company the next day. The Son was so horrendous. First of all, he didn’t have water for anyone. Luckily we brought emergency 5L jugs but jesus, what about the people you are guiding for the week? He smoked endlessly, and right in your face. He failed to answer simple questions or act in any way like he was working. Maybe he wants to get fired. He spent the afternoon and evening hanging out with his guide friends and other Kyrgyz people by a small building in the yurt camp. I went over to him at 7pm or something and walked towards the group of guides and drivers and waved to him to motion that I had a question, and he just looked away and kept chatting. Dick. I asked what time dinner was, and he said, “It’s ready.” Thanks for telling us! I said, “Ok…where should we go?” and he just nodded at a yurt and kept talking to his friends. What a dickwad. Dinner was good, in that there was food for me, and a lot of us. There was a basket of good bread, and the first course was a rice noodle salad with carrots and then the main was grilled eggplant and peppers with rice. This was the first of nearly daily plates of grilled nightshades plus every version of carb. At dinner, we were sitting next to the Dutch, his more important clients, and we all asked him if there was any celebration or anything for Kyrgyz Independence Day, which was later that week and we’d all be there for. He blinked and then just kept eating. He ignored everything. We actually met Kubat the next day in Naryn ​and he seemed very professional and good, so I think he just has to fire his son as a guide because there’s no way anyone should be stuck with him in a foreign country for more than a day. Kubat let me use his toilet and as I left I said ‘your son sucks byeeees.”

So I know you all want to hear about my first night back in a yurt camp after all these glorious months of sleeping indoors near toilets. It was cold. The toilets were 190 paces away from our yurt, and they were actually okay. Squats, but in a building of three, so like, sort of real. And there was toilet paper! They also had a set-up of those push-up sink buckets that were always filled, so it was a lot better than we’ve experienced before. Still not fun, but at least I didn’t have to pour bottled water over my hands all the time (we didn’t have enough for that!) or pee in a fly-ridden tarp. Of course, at night, it was the coldest I’d ever been (until the next night!) and that mixed with the aforementioned 190 paces meant I was quickly back to my old habits of just peeing outside the yurt in the middle of the night (even with my headlamp, it was way too dark to make it to the outhouse safely). And despite the dehydration, I had to pee 10 times that night! One time, a guy with a flashlight was apparently doing security rounds or something, not that I really believe that that’s a thing but anyway, there he was and he was coming my way so I peed as fast as I could and made it back inside before he caught me. What a tremendous time. 

The next morning, I put on all my clothes (all of them; I mostly packed for the previous three months of hot weather) and went to the food yurt for breakfast. They were all eating crepes and Kubat’s POS son forgot to tell the lady that I don’t eat milk or eggs so thanks, dickface. We left with the other driver and drove two hours to Naryn, where we had to pay Kubat, say ‘sorry for your son’, and then meet our NoviNomad guide who would show us the rest of the country over the next 8 days. Guess what – it all gets better! Stay tuned and think of me if you have to pee outside today! BUT DON’T. THAT’S FOR MONSTERS.