Tash Rabat - Bliss Point

Here we are.  In a place nothing short of spectacular.  This post is being written in a yurt in the middle of no where in the mountains of Kyrgyzstan. It will have to wait until I reach civilization to be sent.  You may have to wait forever until that time comes.  If I had my way, I would never leave this place.

Before I wax poetic about the beauty that is here I must tell you how we arrived.  We left China through the Torugart Pass – a “Class 2” border crossing.  This means that getting through must be done in the most inefficient means possible.  To get from China to Kyrgyzstan we had to cross not one, not two, not three but 6 border points.  This involved things like unloading all our bags and putting them through an x ray machine that no one was manning.  (I strongly suspect only the conveyor belt was working).  Then we stand in a line that must be exactly 11 people long (no more – no less) and have a guard look at us and then look at our passport like he is sizing up cattle.  He spends a lot of time just flipping passport pages and looking sternly at us for 20 minutes.  Then he waves us through to the passport desk where another guard (who just watched him do this) repeats the EXACT same thing and then waves us through.  On the truck and a drive for a half hr or so to the next stop to be repeated…  The best was the 4^th stop where  they were all off for lunch so we sat in the middle of no where for 90 minutes being circled by wild dogs.  Finally two guards show up (one of whom was at the last stop checking our passports) and we repeat the waiting and inspection game.  It took us 6 hours to get 100 km.  Welcome to the Chinese/Kyrgyzstan Border where China can’t make up its mind where its border actually is and if it wants you to stay or go.

All that is behind us now.  For the next two days it is full on mountain R & R in Tash Rabat  We are staying in a yurt camp run by Uri the Crazy Russian and his “school mate”.   Uri is desperate to get people drunk on vodka and get naked in his yurt sauna.  He also likes to barge into your yurt at weird hours in the night and proclaim “I LIGHT FIRE NOW!!” and then start fiddling with the stove while repeating the oft used phrase “No Problem. No Problem” in a heavy ruskie voice.  Then he stands tall and exclaims “I MAKE SECOND DOOR ON YURT.  IT GETS VERY WINDY AT NIGHT.  FROM NOW ON YOU EXIT FROM LEFT SIDE!”  Felt yurt doors weigh a ton so adding a second door meant some serious upper body work to push it open.  Our yurt mate – Peter – found this out in the middle of the night when he had to pee.  He could not get the flap to move and ended up having a “Yoda in the Dog Carrier” moment that resulted in him clawing out his own exit point. 

Now about that beauty…

It is almost impossible to put into words the splendour that is Tash Rabat.  The name itself refers to the old ruins of a caravanserai  carved into  the valley.  There is nothing here except nature  and yourself.  A few yurt camps dot the landscape but otherwise human invasion has yet to infect this wonderland.  Grass like velvet.  Impressive rock faces crevassed like the faces of mystic elders.  Blue sky and bird song.  Yaks ambling through creeks.  Marmots scouting for intruders and evading Himalayan vultures that circle the peaks like fallen angels casting shadows on our souls below.  You could hike forever here and still have forever to go.  We hiked all morning and I came upon a very happy black dog that ran to me for head pats.  I knelt down and was promptly greeted with a head “bonk” by one very loving wild goat named “Bambi”.  He had been orphaned and was now the younger sibling of a yurt camp’s daughter.  Here we are invited to stay and treated as a welcomed guest.  You need not want for anything except better insulation in winter (most camps leave by October to return again in spring).  Bambi’s camp offers us their horses if we want to ride deeper into heaven.  We decline.  Uri has lunch waiting for us.  Maybe later?  The ramble continues past wild horses who eye us with understated curiosity.  After lunch, Ken takes up an offer from our guide Said to climb.  As they make their way up the pass I relax onto my felt rug to be alone in my thoughts under the sun by the creek.  I see nothing but blue sky and magnificence.  The sun kisses me.  The wind gently caresses me.  The swallows dance for me.  I am completely alone and at one with myself.  For in this moment, I am soul.

BAMBI!!!

Tash Rabat - kyrgyzstan

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Mountain Man - Kyrgyzstan

Zen in Tash Rabat

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See?!?!  What did I tell you!

Our home in Tash Rabat - Uri's Yurt Camp of Debauchery