Since I have spent a lot of time trying to organise a horse trek to the Tash Rabat caravanserai I decided it wouldn't be such a bad idea to actually try and ride a horse and learn the basics first! So I took a day trek around the valleys to one of the nomadic summer pastures (or jailoo) not only to get used to riding a horse but also to take in the stunning scenery. Fortunately the rain clouds had given way to clear blue sky as I headed to the nearby village of Kara-Suu to start.

My actual instruction was about 30 seconds long and all I needed to know was explained in a matter of fact fashion by my guide. So, with the sun beating down on our backs, we headed off into the almost deserted green fields at the foot of the mountains. Except for the odd flock of sheep or herd of cows, there was no-one in sight. It actually felt like it might have done all those years ago when caravans were making their way accross from CHina. Occassionally the odd shepherd would ride over on his horse to greet the strangers trespassing on his assumed plot and we would exchange pleasantries before he shot of to shout orders to his bleating cheep in the distance. This was semi-nomadism as it exists today - tracksuit bottoms, sports t-shirt and baseball cap with the odd mobile phone attached to one hand and the reins in the other!

It was steady riding as we made our way up the mountain slope and the further we went the more I began to feel pain in all parts of my body. I convinced myself that this was worthy pain to bear. Having got the feel of the horse quickly my guide made an improvised whip from a bit of tree branch and suggested I use it to whip the horse. I'm not accustomed to hitting animals so I tamely tapped the horse's rear trying to look like I was actually using the whip for its purpose. But this seemed to be enough of a signal and off the horse shot nearly leaving me behind. I bumped up and down and from side to side as my horse ran off into the distance leaving Dilnod, my guide, behind. It was as though I now had turbo power and it took quite a bit of effort to stop the horse!

After a few hours more riding, we suddenly came upon a yurt that appeared from nowhere and Dilnod decided that this would be a perfect place to stop for lunch unannounced. I dismounted and almost couldn't walk with my knees in such pain from being stuck in the saddle fo so long. Somehow Dilnod turned the initially flustered owner into our new best friends and a simple but welcoming meal followed. It was mostly bread dipped into various home made jams and milk-based products washed down with the Kygyz equivalent of Coca-Cola, Kymys, which is fermented mare's milk and tastes rather sour with a slight fizz. I did my best to drink it politely and settled for having the better tasting tea as we sat chatting away in Russian inside the family's yurt.

Yurt's are the most amazing constructions, being made from a domed wooden frame and then having a felt covering which keeps it cool inside but also protects the occupants and their posessions from any rain. The family covered the floor in the typical Kyrgyz shyrdak carpets and then arranged the remainder of their belongings around the outer wall of the yurt with a table and rusting stove in the middle. Only an opening in the roof and a rolled up felt doorway provide the lighting for the interior. It was a perfect scene and one I felt very at ease in. One memory sticks in my mind as their 8 year old son stood in the doorway, stunning scenery behind him, staring at the proceedings in the yurt. His serious facing occasionally turning into a broad smile as I tried to explain something to the family whilst making a complete fool of myself acting it out!

After lunch we headed back to the village with a couple of the family members joining us as they had to get supplies. In true Marlboro Man style I roamed the plains as we headed home. I was pleased to get off my horse who’d been a trusty servant but who had left me with aching thighs and a sore bum! I got back to Kochkor to find that Tom, the German guy from Bishkek, had arrived and we set off to make plans for the horse trek to Tash Rabat.