Karakol

I arrive in Karakol via marshrutka from Balykchy (220 som) and decide to head to the beach as soon as I arrive. I find the bus to the beach and a hotel located right next to it, decide that it’s good enough for me, drop my bags in the room and hop on the bus.

The bus is a nice relic from the fifties that’s rusted through in parts and has been repaired with sheets of cheap wood, the kind of material you find in the backs of cheap IKEA cupboards.

On the bus I meet an English speaking, German born Russian who’s lived his whole life in Karakol. His name’s Pasha, he’s just finished high school and we hit it off immediately.

Highlights of our conversation on the bus include Pasha saying something in German, translating it into English as “F*cking your mother in the a*hole”, and a little bit louder so the bus can hear the Russian translation. The old ladies on the bus turn and stare at him while I can barely contain my laughter. He pulls a pair of Calvin Klein boxers out of his bag, waves them around and says look at the quality underwear you can get in America (a present he was sent from a friend in the states) not like that Calvan Keleven (real brand, look out for it in China and Kyrgyzstan) stuff you find in Karakol.

Ducks near the dachas not far from the beach.

Russian Orthodox church in Karakol.

Dungan (Chinese Muslims) mosque built entirely of wood, including the nails.

Statue of some pirate looking fellow (the beach bus and the hotel I stayed in are to the left of the park this statue is located in).

Stuffed marmots found in the Karakol regional museum.

Memorial to one of the greatest explorer’s the world has ever known. Nikolai Mikhaylovich Przhevalsky at the museum dedicated to his travels. Located close to the dachas and the beach.

After Pasha and I visit the beach, we decide to spend the following couple of days up in the mountains hiking to Ala-Kol lake from the Karakol valley.