It's a good 10 hour drive accross dodgy roads to the Kyrgyz capital, Bishkek. So, bright and early, I find myself back at the bazaar trying to negotiate with the competing taxi drivers. Finally I findone who, for a small fee, will allow me to stop and take photographs of the countryside which is supposed to be stunning. It seems fair in enough so I hop in.

Ultimately the weather was foul and it drizzled for most of the journey making photographic opportunities rare. But the scenery was indeed stunning and the jagged mountains displayed an amazing array of different colours. Deep shades of green with brown and blue highlights. We passed numerous lakes that we a deep turqoise colour and if the weather had been a bit warmer they would have been very inviting.

Our driver was a heavy smoking, fat 23 year old guy who made negotiating the severely potholed roads seem easy and all at high speed. He drove solidly playing a game of cat and mouse with his older brother carrying another carload of Bishkek-bound passangers. Our only stops were for my photographs and a quickly solved engine problem. Otherwise we just drove, slowing down only slightly when the raod disappeared into a dirt track.

As we approached Bishkek teh scenery changed once again and we encountered a large, luscious plain filled with the traditional yurts (see yesterday's blog's photo). The Kyrgyz semi-nomadic life continues in the summer when they flock to the summer pastures (Jailoos) and locals herd their flocks on the back of horses while their family busy themselves in their felt-covered dwellings. The surrounding mountains no appeared to have a green felt-like covering turnign the jagged edges into smooth, seductive ripples disturbed only by the odd patch of melting snow.

Our progress was pretty good overall until the largest herd of sheep I have ever seen approached us being controlled by just three men on horsed. The only problem was that they'd decided to travel by the main road and for some 15 minutes our car tried to make its way through the pack, surrounded by bleating sheep. Hooting out horn made no difference as the continued past us  at a snail's pace. Even a wedding convoy was stuck in the melee and we had time to offer our congratulations to the newly weds!

We arrived in Bishkek in the early evening and I headed to a recommended guesthouse, only to find that half of teh guys I had met in Samarkand were staying there! Still it was nice to turn up and have friends so we all headed down to the local bar to watch some world cup football and drink far too many cold beers.

Traffic jam just outside Bishkek due to sheep herders!