This year, some website somewhere decided to spy on us all to check and see which of our photos were our most liked on Instagram this past year. But, since the number of likes doesn’t always correlate to the best photos, I’ve decided to curate a list of what I think were by best shots that went up on my Instagram this year. Continue reading “My Favorite Photos Of 2015”
Issyk-Kul means “hot lake” in Kyrgyz, so named because it does not freeze in winter because of its salt content. It’s the second largest alpine lake in the world (after Lake Titicaca), and is saline because it is in an isolated basin without drainage. Lined with beaches and mountains, in the summer it’s hard to tell that you’re in Kyrgyzstan, and not actually on the Mediterrannean coast.
After spending the night in Song Kul, where we were pelted by a terrific thunderstorm and the roof of our felt yurt dripped on us all night, we were greeted by this spectacular sunrise:
Just about all of my best photos from this trip came from that morning. We got up at sunrise, about 5:30 or 6:00, and our Kyrgyz hosts brought a table and mattresses outside, lit the samovar (they use wood-fired samovars to heat water in areas without electricity), and poured us tea and kymyz with bread as we sat in the near-horizontal sunlight. We were fully awake because of the light, but its angle and the cool temperature (it had gone down to 40 degrees overnight) reminded me more of Iceland than of Kyrgyzstan. Words really can’t capture the feeling of sheer expanse, with no trees in sight. Continue reading “Road Trip Part 3: The Road to Issyk-Kul”
Song Kul reminds me of a Microsoft wallpaper. Its grasslands rise from the water’s edge across rolling hills and up to mountains, with the fields broken only by the occasional yurt, cow, or horse. Tucked away in a high mountain basin, there is no electricity or cell coverage within two hours by car. It’s about as peaceful a place as I’ve ever managed to find outside of Alaska.
Song Kul is a summer retreat for many of the semi-nomadic people of Kyrgyzstan. While it has a thriving tourism industry, most of the yurts around the lake belong to ordinary Kyrgyz people who, every summer, bring their herds and flocks from towns and villages to the lake to graze and to relax in the clean crisp cool mountain air. When it is over 100 degrees in Osh during the day, it can be as cool as 40 degrees at night at Song Kul. Even though less than 100km away, people are sweating bullets in Bishkek, in Song Kul, it is necessary to wear sweaters, vests, and fur-lined boots. It’s a contrast in so many ways to many places in Kyrgyzstan, and yet it manages to remain so distinctively Kyrgyz in a most beautiful way. Continue reading “Road Trip Part 2: The Road To Song Kul”
