“Wild Horses” (Daryl Braithwaite)

From the red cliff campsite we headed for Lake Song Kol. We needed to cross a mountain pass before reaching the lake, and we stopped for lunch at the top of the pass. And were rewarded with a hail / sleet storm! Our luck with the weather continues to be somewhat dubious… However it looked sunny by the lake and so we soldiered on, and found a lovely campsite about a kilometre from the lake, on ground only otherwise occupied by horses, cattle and the occasional goat (but more about the goats later). Our days at Lake Song Kol were taken up with wandering around the lake and the mountains (well, I guess it has to be said that I more took on the foothills, leaving the mountains to the fitter members of the group!), riding horses and chilling out. As the old adage says, you learn something new every day, and on the second day of our stay I learnt that I am allergic to horses. The horses we hired were somewhat lethargic at times (although some of that can definitely be attributed to user error), and so I loped off on a horse and within seconds I was sneezing. And sneezing, and sneezing. And my horse was flatulating, a lot, which was very unfortunate for Rich whose horse would only follow mine, and only at very close proximity. I continued on (did I mention it was also tipping with rain), and eventually had to turn around because the sneezing was driving me mad. On the return journey (and I am only talking about less than a kilometre because that is as far as I went), my eyes started to itch, and by the time I returned to camp, Jo exclaimed “oh my God, what happened to you?”. I went onto the truck to get some dry clothes and was met with supportive comments such as “eeew, I can’t even look at your eye!”, and laughter from all sides. Fortunately there are no mirrors on the truck so I have no idea what a state I was in, but I considered the best course of action would be to slope off, anti-histamines in hand, and go for a sleep in the hope that I would be able to open my left eye by the time I woke up! My allergy to horses continues to provide entertainment to some of our group, including a member of the crew who offered me a “present” of some horse hair! Hilarious! Horses are a very prominent feature of the scenery in Kyrgyzstan, with beautiful looking horses (and at this time of year, foals) everywhere. The locals we saw on horseback were all excellent riders, and we received a further demonstration of this through a game of goat polo which was organised for us by the crew. (Annie, stop reading now…) The game starts with the slaughtering of a goat whose head is removed, together with legs below the knee joints. There are then a series of games played either one on one or two on two which consist of trying to pick up the goat carcass from the ground and then carry it to a blanket in the middle of the field in order to score a point. And it is all done on horseback. The skill involved is significant (as demonstrated when Pete and Tim played a game against each other – perhaps a bit more practice is required?), and there is also some skill in being a spectator. There is no set field for the games, so it can be the case that you are standing there taking photos when you suddenly realise that there are four horses and a goat carcass galloping towards you with no intention of stopping. The game ranged all over, with some tussles being conducted right in front of tents, and others leaving the spectators in cars terrified as horses are leaning against the car. The game drew quite a crowd (still not entirely sure from where, but nevermind!) and was supplemented by demonstrations of child wrestling and adult arm wrestling. A winning player was chosen to take home the (by now very much tenderised) goat carcass and the players were overjoyed to receive a photo memento of the day. Picking up the "ball":

The perils of being a spectator:

The goat and the players:

That night we were caught in between two storm fronts, so we sought refuge in the truck and watched the lightning all around us (enjoying the comfort of 3 inches of rubber in the form of the tyres), and hoped that the tents would still be standing by the end of it!