Cycling in kyrgyzstan

Cycling in Kyrgyzstan – practical bike touring guide

Since I saw pictures of Karakol Valley on my friend’s Facebook, I have dreamt of cycling in Kyrgyzstan. This little-known post-Soviet country is sometimes called the Switzerland of Central Asia. In my opinion, Kyrgyzstan is like Switzerland but on steroids. Not only are the mountains 3000 meters higher than the […]

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Spanie na dziko w Macedonii

Camping alone as a woman – are you gonna die?

Considering what people have told me about camping alone as a woman, I should be long dead. Serial killers, sexual predators, wild animals – they are behind every corner, just waiting for vulnerable girls in their tents. At least according to what most people seem to think when I tell them I camp alone. How can you keep yourself safe and not freak out about every potential danger waiting behind the thin canvas of your tent?  

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Kyrgyz on a horse

Kyrgyz Tales, part 4: a brief episode with cycling solo and an epilogue with no cycling at all

I felt their eyes on me.

“You alone?”
“No, my husband is right behind me,” I answered knowing that they will find out that my husband either wears an invisibility cloak or does not exist if they stay at the road for a while.

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Kyrgyz Tales, Part 3: Jottings from Karakol

It was like in a base camp. I mean, besides electricity, fast wi-fi and the shop around the corner where you could swing by in your flip-flops. Also, we were in Kyrgyzstan’s fourth biggest city and none of us was even close to being a mountaineer. We were all regular tourists. The mood was truly basecamp-ish, though. We would maniacally check the weather forecast and played cards for hours to kill the time. Sometimes the noise of squealing tires followed by the rumble of crashing cars drowned out the monotonous sound of the rain on the tin roof. Another jerk went through a red light on the intersection in front of the hostel.

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Issyk Kul

Kyrgyz tales, part 2: beach vibes at Issyk-Kul, fairytale and not-really-fairytale canyons and hunger for adventure

I don’t remember his name. Let’s just call him “Mister Five Thousand Benefits”. He joined us at the beach in Tong and, while sharing a watermelon with us, was trying to convert us to Islam.

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Cycling in Kyrgyzstan

Kyrgyz tales, part 1: Always look on the bright side

I don’t like flying. Not because I’m scared of it. I actually feel pretty safe on a plane. And not even because I find the whole airport atmosphere very stressful and I’m always there two hours too early, which makes no sense at all because I’m just freaking out that

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