Tash Rabat Loop

Not in the story-mood? Scroll down for the Quick Budget Fact Overview: an itemized information summary of Kyrgyzstan!

In an age where every mountain peak has its Instagram tag, imagine stumbling upon a hiking route that exists almost purely in the realm of analog. That, dear reader, is precisely how I stumbled upon the Nomad Valley Trail in the majestic Tian Shan mountains of Kyrgyzstan. While waiting out volatile weather and recuperating my weary feet by the shimmering waves of the Issyk-Kul Lake – a necessary pause after conquering the well-known (and well-documented) Ak-Suu Traverse hike – I found this trail’s faint outline on a quaintly old-fashioned paper map. No blog posts, no forum discussions, no weathered explorers sharing their tales. Just a name, a dotted line, and an information vacuum so profound it felt like an invitation. I looked down at my feet, its blisters slowly healing, and up at the sky, the black rain clouds gradually subsiding… You know what, let’s just do it. Alone, of course, and in 2 days instead of the suggested 4.

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Base: Naryn

As mentioned, the base for this hike would be Naryn, 110km down the road and the first place of proper civilization after the border with China. Naryn itself is not a place that screams 'picture postcard.' Tucked away in a high-altitude valley, bisected by the glacial Naryn River that gives it its name, it possesses a rugged, no-nonsense charm. It serves as a vital administrative and logistical hub for a vast, sparsely populated region, and offers the quiet hum of a working town. Its official "attractions" are scarce but noteworthy: a wildly decorated mosque contrasting beautifully against the backdrop of Naryn’s arid, barren landscapes, a small but surprisingly insightful regional museum offering a glimpse into nomadic heritage, and the widely revered Nomad Cafe – a foreigner’s oasis for a hearty meal and, most importantly, real coffee (the first time I encountered this in entire Kyrgyzstan).

More information on Naryn and its surroundings can be found in my Naryn article.

Day 0: Naryn – Tash Rabat

Distance: 5.05km (+2.5km).
Elevation Gain: 174m ascent, 65m descent. Keep in mind that Tash Rabat is already at 3200m.
Water conditions: There’s a stream at Tash Rabat (purifying definitely needed, plenty of cattle here).
Important Remarks: There is no public transit to reach Tash Rabat. You either need your own vehicle, get a (very expensive) taxi or tour, or be comfortable with hitchhiking.
Camping Spot: The valley just beyond Tash Rabat, away from the tourists, right before the Beldzhol Vostochnyy Pass (3530m). Needless to say, it was very cold, even in June.
GPS: My Wikiloc recording.

Before I could even lace up those boots for the official trek, there was the small matter of getting there. And for an independently minded (read: cheap) solo traveller, booking an exorbitant tour was out of the question – especially as I had no intention of a same-day return. I also didn’t want to pay for a taxi when I'm just traveling alone with no one to share the cost with (which is triple for a tourist-looking individual anyway). So I decided to hitchhike, a practice I am far from unfamiliar with. Quite thankfully, the road from Naryn towards the Chinese border is a busy artery, a vital vein of commerce and, thankfully, one of Kyrgyzstan's rare asphalted gateways (I can tell you, the charm of those bumpy dirt roads wears off in about 5 minutes). Late in the afternoon I strolled to the correct roadside and about instantly a car with a group of cheerful workers pulled over. They were heading to a nearby village, and while not my final destination, it was forward motion – the cardinal rule of hitchhiking. From that village, the ease of travel continued. Another group of workers, another immediate lift. They even flagged down a truck for me, ensuring my seamless transition to the next stage. This final ride deposited me at the Tash Rabat intersection, a turn-off that marked the beginning of a 15-km dirt track leading to the caravanserai itself.

As the truck rumbled away, leaving me enveloped in a sudden, profound quiet, I realised my strategic error: most visitors are leaving at this time, not arriving, heading into the opposite direction. 15km, that's a good 3-hour walk, I figured if I go with a steady pace I might be there just around sunset… 2.5km in, however, a car appeared on the horizon – a dust cloud rapidly resolving into a beat-up sedan. It was absolutely packed: a Kyrgyz family, seemingly several generations deep, crammed inside. But with a wave and a smile, they somehow, miraculously, made space for one more, wedging me in amongst suitcases and small, giggling children. Kyrgyz hospitality I only scarcely found, delivered with a twinkle and a full backseat.

There it was: the Tash Rabat. Nice, indeed. I looked at it for a few minutes and decided I had indeed seen it now. I had more pressing issues to address: finding a camping spot. With the sun still clinging to the peaks, I had time to seek out a private sanctuary away from the touristy yurt camps. Deeper into the valley I walked, away from the sightseers, cattle and the farmers, hoping for a patch of sheltered land. “Sheltered” was definitely too much to ask. The landscape around Tash Rabat is stunning, but also relentlessly barren. No trees, no sheltering outcrops, just wide-open fields sloping up to the mountains. And in the mountains, the wind doesn't just blow; it rages, a relentless torrent funnelling down the valleys. I walked, and walked, until I spotted a minor dip in an otherwise empty expanse where a small river had cut a shallow channel. It was uneven, tilted, and far from ideal, but it was slightly lower, offering a fractional reprieve from the direct, full-blast assault. I deployed every guy line, every peg, and then fortified them with as many rocks as I could find. Despite my efforts, the tent became a heavily rocking, constantly vibrating cocoon. Add to that the 3374m elevation, giving a slight idea of the nightly temperatures I had to endure, even in summer. A far from restful opening night.

Day 1: Tash Rabat Valley - Shyrykty Pass Valley

Distance: 25.58km.
Elevation Gain: 1741m ascent, 1143m descent. Highest point: Shyrykty Pass (4127m). (Beldzhol Vostochnyy Pass: 3530m)
Trail Conditions: Sometimes there’s a horse trail , sometimes it’s grassy and swampy. The Shyrykty Pass consists of terrible rolling gravel and scree, without much grip. In summer, there were also still ice plates on the top.
Water Conditions: Unlike maps and GPS apps suggest, there is water around all day through.
River Crossings: The whole day through. No bridges. Yet, only for one crossing I had to take my shoes off because it was too deep.
Important remarks: for the lake area you officially need a permit.
Camping spot: In the valley after the Shyrykty Pass (at around 3600m), just before the Chatyr-Kol Lake. When I woke up, my tent was covered in ice.
GPS: My Wikiloc recording.

My alarm, set with optimistic zeal for 5:30AM, promised an early start to conquer the trail. After a shivering cold night that kept waking me up, I opened my eyes once again to the chilling embrace of the mountain’s morning. The prospect of leaving my warm sleeping bag, a veritable fortress against the encroaching cold, was almost unbearable. But I had to make some moves, as I noticed that my tent was damp and needed to be submitted to a lengthy drying ritual before I could be on my merry way. Every single camping night in Kyrgyzstan, without fail, has delivered this detrimental dampness.

The day started with the Beldzhol Vostochnyy Pass (3530m), a seemingly innocent one that turned out to be a surprisingly challenging climb. Sweating and panting, I made my way to the top, painfully realizing that the trail's disguised slopes would be a recurring theme throughout the day. The downhill that followed was a welcome relief, as well as a gradual one, traversing through a stunning valley blanketed in a sea of wildflowers. Despite the lack of a proper trail system, on this section the route was relatively easy to navigate, thanks to the occasional horse trails that crisscrossed the landscape. As I made my way through the valley, passing by the occasional deserted farm, I couldn't help but feel a sense of isolation. There wasn't a single shepherd in sight, let alone a fellow hiker or tourist. That said, the absence of any human presence might add to the trail's allure.

I did find myself surrounded by an abundance of water though, a stark contrast to what the various maps and navigation apps I had thoroughly studied suggest. According to this limited information I had, water sources would be absent until the Chatyr-Kol Lake, requiring a strategic, almost military-grade approach to hydration. Result: I totally overcarried, adding unnecessary weight to my already heavy camping equipment. Water, glorious, gurgling water, was not just 'available'; it was the main character of today’s section. It was literally all around me, a constant, shimmering presence. River crossings included! This example highlights a problem with Kyrgyzstan as a “hiking destination”: the profound lack of information. In the long-distance trails I've tackled in Europe and the US – the contemplative paths of several Caminos, the vast wilderness of the Pacific Crest Trail – apps like FarOut offer info on literally anything trail-related, including real-time updates on water sources. Here in Kyrgyzstan? You’re lucky if you even unearth a reliable GPS file to load onto your device, helping you to scramble and bushwhack through the wild.

The climb up to the Shyrykty Pass (4127m) was long and arduous. That said, the first 7km of this climb are, surprisingly, very doable. The gradient is steady, the terrain cooperative – lulling one into a rather precarious sense of security. And then, dear reader, the plot thickens. The final 3km to the Shyrykty Pass were, to put it mildly, brutal. This section is an unsympathetic expanse of scree, triggering instant, vivid flashbacks to every loose-gravel nightmare I've ever had. There was no grip, only rolling pebbles that seemed to actively conspire against upward momentum. It was less of a hike and more of a desperate scramble, a full-body engagement with an unforgiving, sharply angled landscape. I'm not here to sugarcoat it – this segment is heavy, hard work, a genuine battle against the mountain's sheer indifference. Adding a chilling layer to this already spicy ascent, June still presented me with an unexpected glacial plate right at the summit. Imagine sliding precariously across a sheet of ice, relying solely on trusty hiking poles transformed into makeshift ice picks. One wrong move, one misplaced stab, and I might well have become a permanent feature of the landscape. Below this icy challenge lay a melted muddy mess, a vicious concoction that, upon disturbance, had a disconcerting habit of forming miniature mudslides. Something I by no means intend to initiate on a large scale, as that would mean the end of me. So, when the final, breathless lunge brought me to the very top, the feeling was nothing short of victorious. A biting, relentless wind whipped across the pass, serving as a crisp reminder of the altitude. But then, the view. Below, laid out like a sapphire gem, was Chatyr-Kol Lake, Kyrgyzstan's third-largest, its vastness almost humbling. And beyond it, the stark, formidable mountain chain marking the border with China.

This pass now holds the esteemed title of being the highest I've ever conquered in Kyrgyzstan. Even the famed Ak-Suu Traverse, notorious for its seven mountain passes, didn't throw anything quite this lofty my way.

As I began my descent (a highly unpleasant gripless scree scramble), I sharply realized I entered the border-permit-area. Despite the risk of being caught by border patrol, I decided to press on, determined not to backtrack. I always prefer something new over a boring repeat. If there actually would be a border patrol in the absolute middle of nowhere, which I doubted, I didn’t want to make their job too easy though. So I camped behind a little hill, out of sight for anyone. I was a good 5 minutes in my freshly pitched tent before a heavy rainstorm of biblical proportions plunged down on me. Talking about timing!

Day 2: Shyrykty Pass Valley – Tash Rabat

Distance: 21.78km.
Elevation Gain: 505m ascent, 825m descent. Highest point: Panda Pass (4025m).
Trail Conditions: Alongside the lake there’s a dirt road, from which you eventually have to deviate off-trail. The higher part of the Panda Pass consists of terrible rolling gravel and scree, without much grip. The other (more-traversed) side has a more defined path, be it still with scree. It only changes to sand and grass deeper down in the valley.
Water Conditions: Once again unlike the map suggests, today there is NO water around. Don’t be mistaken, the Chatyr-Kol Lake is still 3km away from the trail. I only found a little stream just before the Panda Pass. In the valley after the Panda Pass and towards Tash Rabat it becomes more plentiful.
River Crossings: Only towards the end. I got myself some soaked socks.
Important remarks: For the lake area you officially need a permit. I didn’t have one and was alright though.
GPS: My Wikiloc recording.

After a day that had thoroughly wrung me out, exhaustion proved to be the most potent sedative, ensuring a deep slumber despite the pervasive slamming of rain against my tent. Another 5:30AM alarm was set – not out of a masochistic love for sunrises, but a pragmatic desire for stealthiness and discretion. After all, when one finds oneself traversing terrain officially out-of-bounds, a departure before the border patrol officers might have woken up seems like a tactical move. The elements hadn’t spared me that night, to the point that my tent canvas was properly frosted in ice. Every breath felt like an ice crystal entering my lungs, and the thought of plunging a hand into frigid water to filter it for the day was a non-starter. Breakfast? An impossible luxury, sitting still was simply not an option. The only viable strategy was motion – relentless, blood-pumping motion – to coax some warmth back into my system.

14km stood between me and the next mountain pass, a respectable 3-hr trek. The initial stretch skirting the Chatyr-Kol Lake was deceptively pleasant, a flat dirt track likely frequented by the very border patrols I was trying to evade, judging by the tire marks. The views, naturally, were breathtakingly scenic. Yet, I was the subject of cruel irony, as it turned out. Yesterday, I’d been the poster child for over-preparedness, lugging excess water. Today, the universe decided to balance the scales with a rather brutal dose of under-preparedness. My chilled morning reluctance to filter water, combined with an erroneous assumption about the region’s hydrology once again based on the available paper and online maps, conspired against me. I’d detected several streams feeding the lake, all logically present, one would assume, because of the meltwater flowing down early in the season. Eh, nope. Every single one was bone dry. My internal monologue swiftly devolved into a desperate plea to the cosmos. If there was a higher power, they were clearly not liking me as a person. The arid heat was already taking its toll; dizziness and dehydration began to creep in. The lake, seemingly so close, was a frustrating mirage – 3km off-trail, a distance I couldn't afford to divert for. Just as despair was setting in, and I was contemplating how to tackle a brutal ascent without vital hydration (passing out being a distinct possibility), a miracle happened. A Fata Morgana, perhaps, but gloriously real: a stream. I practically collapsed beside it, filtering two blissful litres on the spot, an act of desperate gratitude.

From the lakeside, the Panda Pass (4025m) looked like something conjured from a hiker’s nightmare. Yet, a peculiar relief set in. Unlike yesterday’s soul-crushing ascent from a valley far below (a good 10km), the lake itself sat at a respectable 3530m. This meant I was tackling 'only' the final tip – perhaps 10% of yesterday’s vertical effort, but with all of its steep, unforgiving character. And by unforgiving, I mean loose scree, AGAIN. Oh, how I loathe scree. It is, unequivocally, the worst surface in the known hiking universe. Every step is a calculated gamble, a delicate dance of shifting rocks. My hiking poles became extensions of my very will, anchors against a potentially fatal slip into the abyss. Beginners, consider yourselves warned: proceed at your peril, or perhaps, don’t proceed at all.

At last, the top! With more views on the Chatyr-Kol I became now so familiar with. Curiously, for a seemingly popular section (Tash Rabat to Panda Pass and back) which is featured prominently on apps like Wikiloc and AllTrails, I found myself utterly alone at the top. The entire pass, a vast, silent expanse, was mine. It turned out that the entire two days of this trek it would be just me, and me only. This includes the absence of the border patrol officers, who were not there to stop me, fine me or take my bribe money. I knew it.

The descent, thankfully, was marked by a slightly more defined, though still brutally steep, path. More foot traffic, as it seems. Yet, it remained a scree-laden challenge, promptly giving life to two fresh, blossoming blisters. The agony was immediate and profound, demanding an impromptu medical break and a generous dose of painkillers. I’m fairly certain my stride evolved into something akin to a distressed crab, until the scree finally gave way to mercifully soft sand and grass. From there, it was a gentle, almost therapeutic stroll back to where it all started. Tash Rabat.

This time, I finally paid the entrance fee to the yurt-dwelling family who held the key, and stepped inside. Tash Rabat, a 10th-century stone caravanserai, once served as a vital inn and fortress along the Silk Road. It’s a testament to time, offering a glimpse into an era when journeys were measured not in hours, but in months, and every shelter was a salvation. Its thick, sturdy walls and domed ceilings contain centuries of trade, shelter, and whispered tales of travelers from distant lands. And now it was me who breathed between its walls, weary from my own voyage.

Quick Budget Fact Overview

Kyrgyzstan Facts

Capital: Bishkek
Language: Kyrgyz, Russian
Population: ± 7.1 mln
Sq km: ± 199,951
Currency: Som (с - KGS)
Electricity Outlet: C+F / 220 V / 50 Hz
Country Code Phone: +996
Emergency Phone: 112 general, 101 fire, 102 police, 103 ambulance, (03657) 5-13-87 mountain rescue
Visa: Many nationalities get 60 days. If your country is not included, an e-visa can be requested here. https://evisa-e-gov.kg/
Vaccinations: None mandatory, although it’s recommended to get vaccinated against Hepatitus-A and B, Typhoid and Tetanus
Climate: Arid / Semi-Arid Climate (B). (Subtropical in Fergana Valley, Dry-Continental-Polar in higher Tian Shan Mountains).
High season: May-August

Short History Recap

8th century: Arab invaders in Central Asia. Islam. 10th-13th centuries: Kyrgyz people to the Tian-Shan. Turkish rule. 1685: Area conquered by the Oirats / Mongol. 1758: Chinese empire. Early 1800s: Uzbek khanate of Kokand. 1876: Russian empire. 1916-17: Anti-Russian rebellion Central Asia repressed. ‘17-23: October Revolution, Civil War. ‘20s/’30s: Soviet land reforms, state-owned farms. Defeats the traditional nomadic life. Members of opposing intelligentsia imprisoned / executed. ’21: Turkestan Autonomous Soviet Socialist Republic (ASSR) within Russian Soviet Federated Socialist Republic (RSFSR). ’24: Kara-Kirgiz Autonomous Region. ’36: Kirgiz Soviet Socialist Republic (SSR) becomes republic within USSR. ’90: State of emergency after 100s people are killed in interethnic clashes between Uzbeks and Kyrgyz around Osh. ’91: Kirgizia gets name Kyrgyzstan, independent. ’92: UN. Economic reform program. ’93: Som as currency (formerly Russian rubble). ’98: Suspension death penalty announced. ’99: Troops to free by Islamic militants near Tajik border. 2000: Border deal with China. ’03: Putin opens Russian air base at Kant, near base used by US forces. ’06: President Bakiyev signs new constitution after mass protests demanding resignation: Limits his powers. Government resigns. ’07: Government resigns again. Prime Minister Almaz Atabayev poisoned. ’08: Earthquake kills 65 in Osh. ’09: Closure of US air base, after $2bn in loans / aid from Russia. Nevertheless continued after US pays more than triple of annual rent. Kyrgyzstan allows Russia to establish a 2nd military base. ’10: 200+ killed in clashes between Kyrgyz and Uzbek ethnic communities in Osh and Jalalabad. Referendum: a new constitution reducing the powers of the presidency and turning country into a parliamentary republic. ’14: US air base closed.

Budget Bites

Local Dishes: Tandyr Nan (traditional bread), Plov/Paloo (signature rice dish), Shashlik (grilled meat skewer), Naryn (boiled horse meat cut into thin strips, with cold noodles and hot broth), Samsa (pastry, standard street food), Kazy (horsemeat sausage), Ashlyam-Fu (cold Kyrgyz soup), Lazy (spicy seasoning), Tash-Kordo (stone or oven grilled lamb), Shurugan (fried onions in ghee with milk), Oromo (Kyrgyz lumpia), Hoshany (minced meat pies, Uyghur cuisine), Kattama (flaky tortillas covered in a crispy crust and fried onions), Zhuurat (sheep or goat yoghurt), Jansak (dessert containing ghee, nuts and honey), Laghman (hand pulled noodle dish), Manti (dumplings), Ganfan (spicy meat and vegetable dish over steamed rice), Beshbarmak (minced mutton poured over hand-cut noodles), Kuurdak (fried marinated meat, onions, and potatoes), Shorpo (Kyrgyz chicken soup), Chechil (braided cheese, bar snack), Dimlama (hearty, stewed vegetables).
The Veg Situation: Being vegetarian or vegan could be complicated in Kyrgyzstan, as their cuisine is incredibly meat-centered. Eggs and broth can also be found in most dishes. Remaining true to your diet will probably require you mainly cooking your own meals. Veg restaurants (almost all located in Bishkek, a select few in Karakol) can be found here https://www.happycow.net/asia/kyrgyzstan/ . Local veg dishes: Potato Samsa, Lazy, Veg Ashlyan-Fu, Oromo (enquire about meat in ingredients, there are veg versions), Potato Manti, Jansak, Dimlama (sometimes comes with meat, so enquire in advance), Salads (Salat Shirin, with crunchy marinated eggplant, is delicious).
National Drink: Chalap (fermented dairy drink), Maksym (fermented roasted grain drink, "liquid bread"), Kumys (fermented mare’s milk), Ozo (millet-corn drink, 4-6% alcohol), Dzarma (alcoholic barley drink).

Sleep Cheap

Hostels / Hotels / Guesthouses: You’ll notice that Kyrgyzstan is quite affordable, also when it comes to accommodation. This excludes the very touristy areas around Altyn-Aryshan and Ala-Kol Lake, where mass tourism sparked some shiny dollar signs in the local’s eyes. Guesthouses and homestays are the main offer, often including a simple but hearty home-made breakfast. The bigger cities also offer hostels, with very cheap beds in shared dormitories. However, be aware that even if you book (and pay for) a private room, like I usually did, they will try to put strangers in your room as soon as they realize you are traveling solo. It always caused an uncomfortable discussion. The reason for this can be found in many homestay-owners not really understanding online booking platforms, and therefore listing a private room while they actually mean a private bed. Another reason might be Kyrgyz culture, and entire families being used to sharing a bedroom with one another, not realizing that foreigners might not appreciate this. After a few of these instances, I always send a message ahead to confirm I truly do have a private room. Keep in mind that almost every accommodation only accepts payment in cash. Writer’s choice: I wild-camped at the Tash Rabat.
Couchsurfing: allows you to stay with locals. Nowadays it has a moderate sign-up cost (unless you put a third-world country as homebase), but paying extra for verification is unnecessary: Positive reviews are way more important. Once active, there are no costs for staying at someone’s house. In order to get accepted, make sure to write an elaborate request explaining why you applied to this specific profile and think you and your host are a good match (copy-pastes tend to be ignored). The Couchsurfing community in Kyrgyzstan is not big, but exists. Cyclists may also use Warm Showers, which is in principal a bikepacking community focussing on 1-night stays.
Wild Camping: is entirely legal in Kyrgyzstan, about anywhere you go. Avoid private land, obviously.

Mama Said

Safety: Kyrgyzstan is a pretty safe country, with a relatively low crime rate and few reported incidents involving foreign visitors. You’ll notice that the Kyrgyz people mainly keep to themselves, and generally won’t bother you (unless some money can be made).
Money: While some bigger supermarkets or hotels offer card payments, cash is the way to go in Kyrgyzstan. Many places offer a QR code payment, but this is for Kyrgyz banks only. Always carry sufficient cash money, as ATMs are only available in bigger towns and cities.
Negotiating: I am sorry to have to conclude it, but where the northern neighbours in Kazakhstan tend to have a culture of giving, Kyrgyzstan has a culture of taking. Money, that is. Always, and always more. The locals definitely aren’t unfriendly, but they do see you as a walking wallet, that’s just how I felt treated after an extended period of time in this country. The reason can be found in Kyrgyzstan actually having quite a high number of tourists in certain areas, while Kazakhstan basically has none outside of the Almaty area. Wherever there are no written down prices, you’ll likely to be charged double. Therefore, inform yourself in advance about certain prices, so you have a base for negotiation. You’ll still be paying more than the locals will, but not as outrageous as their first attempt. It’s tiring, honestly.
Tap Water: is safe to drink, although not everyone’s stomach is resistant to it. I drank tap water my entire stay without issues. When hiking, I used a filter, as cattle is all around. When cooking, the act of boiling already kills the bacteria.
The best credit/debit card for traveling is Wise, as they use the live conversion rates with minimal exchange fees. Wise also has the lowest fees for sending money to foreign accounts. Revolut is comparable, but they have higher exchange fees in the weekend and less wallet-options. Also, you can only wire money to Revolut in the currency you opened the account with, whereas Wise has IBAN’s from a wide variety of currencies, so you don’t have to pay a double exchange fee. Some Kyrgyz ATMs charge a fee for cash outs, but not all. Always make sure to carry enough cash around, as this is the most common payment method.
Simcard: Buying a local simcard, mainly containing unlimited calls and data, is incredibly cheap. The main providers are Megacom, O! and Beeline. I have a relatively good experience with O!, but it didn’t work in the mountains (as I have heard from others, no provider seems to). In Bishkek, the best place to buy a simcard is at the Tsum Aichurok shopping centre, although in the capital you’ll see street vendors all around. Avoid buying it at an elevated rate at the airport. You need to bring an ID. An odd thing is that they’ll ask you to register your simcard with the government within 30 days (for a fee that’s higher than the simcard cost), which can be done at a very chaotic desk at the highest floor of the Tsum Aichurok shopping centre. However, they’ll require a visa for it, which most visitors simply don’t have as 60 visa-free days are granted. As such, you can’t register it. For some people this results in an immediate blockage, some (like me) just don’t have an issue. I honestly didn’t even try, I figure I wait and see what happens (nothing happened). You can just risk it, especially if you’re staying less than a month. If you’re staying longer, just buy a new sim with a different ID.
Campers among us, I recommend buying all gear you might need in Bishkek, as it gets harder to trace it down outside of the capital. Especially camping gas, which I found at Red Fox (expensive), as well as in Novatex and Alex (cheaper). Expect gear and clothing to have standard western prices, it’s not really affordable whatsoever as it’s the tourist that buy this stuff, not the locals… but at least it’s available.

Next?

In Kyrgyzstan: Naryn, Lake Issyk-Kul, Bishkek.
International Destinations Close By: Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, China.

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