Nicole Kidman - very good actress; very bad cat!

On arrival in Bishkek we headed into town following the instructions in The Book to find somewhere to stay. The instructions told us to look out for a large sheet metal gate next to the German Embassy. When we got there we seemed to be facing a junk yard with the carcasses of cars even more decrepit than the ones we’d been travelling in piled up in the garden – and a yurt vaguely distinguishable though the thicket of mulberry trees. A shack was putting up a mild fight against gravity by the entrance and manned by a shambolic chap attached to a wetly rolled cigarette, accompanied by a mangy German Shepherd with an inferiority complex.

However, after the gates ominously creaked open Adams Family-style, we were met by the broad, gold accented smile of our host, Mr. Sayerbek who rapidly introduced his extended family of wife, sister, daughter, son etc – and the very friendly little Burmese cat – Nicole Kidman (hence his favourite expression “Nicole Kidman – very good actress; very bad cat!”)

Mr Sayerbek bustled out of his kitchen, geniality radiating from his leathered face, shooing us in front of him on a tour of his establishment. First he showed us the cheapy dorms downstairs that have been created in the house’s original rooms by nailing up ‘sleeping platforms’ to the walls in a very haphazard fashion. It was a fantastic use of space, in a truly imaginative manner – but goodness help anyone trying to find their way to the loo in the dark – almost certain decapitation. No one was in at the time, but there was evidence of backpackers strewn around in the form of kit, walking boots and journals etc. With his chest puffed out, Mr Sayerbek resembled a proud chaffinch as he revelled in his home renovation ingenuity – his “Ninja Platforms for sleeping on!” However, he wasn’t keen on us staying there as, yet again, we were the only girls. God forbid! - think it offended his sensibilities. So he was much happier when we agreed to take the double bed in the master bedroom upstairs.

The house was decrepit, but huge, built of wood with a largely Victorian heritage and a confusedly cosmopolitan present. It had a large garden and orchard rapidly descending towards wilderness, with a variety of oddballs hanging around the junk yard bit. My Sayerbek was also obviously into art and not shy, he had a collection of large prints of himself hanging up in the dining room – which is also used as an additional bedroom. For roughly $4 US a night (dinner, bed and breakfast) who’s complaining?! There was even some hot water, although you couldn’t lock the bathroom room and had to sing loudly to dissuade others from entering.

Having made ourselves at home, we re-emerged into the friendly kitchen and were pleased to meet another eclectic collection of travellers including:
- Francois, a tousled Frenchman who runs his own NGO and is in the process of a 4 year trip cycling around the world distributing funds from some French foundation with his mate William
- An Aussie/Belorussian who turned up to weed his Grandad's grave
- David, an Aussie trustafarian who’d just spent 4 months being random (and annoying) in Mongolia
- 2 mop headed Austrians on their Uni hols climbing things
- A weird Brit called Lou who was a musical reject from the 60s and spending time in Bishkek to discover Kyrgyz bands (!) and teach them about copywrite
- And an odd American from NYC with loads of tattoos and scars across his face who insisted he was here "to write stuff". He tried to be cool and keep an air of mystique by constantly wearing a collection of woolly hats....but wasn’t quite so cool when disturbed in the morning to find him wearing nothing but boxers and his woolly hat on the way to the bathroom. Then he just looked rather silly.
The Austrians broke the ice by kindly offered us all some magnesium pills (as travellers do to start conversation) which looked popular until it was explained that they also gave you diarrhoea – something no one felt they needed any help with.

We had supper at the guesthouse (home cooked and very popular with Nicole Kidman) and headed out to the local neighbourhood bar – Bar Navigator – with the gang. This was quite a cosmopolitan place, by Kyrgyz standards, due to its position close to European Embassies. As The Aussie and I had heard nasty things about Bishkek in the dark we were happy sticking close to our guesthouse and had one or two beers in good surroundings. I talked philosophy with Francois (very French, determined to save the world and, despite The Aussie’s opinions - very attractive) and The Aussie got annoyed by the Yank (very up himself and trying hard to be “mysterious” and showing off about the waitress he’d “had” the night before – nice). But it was fun nonetheless; The Aussie got to argue and I was lulled into a contemplative daze by an lilting French accent. We came back to the guesthouse for Francois to get out his guitar (given that he is travelling around the world on a bicycle that was unexpected!) and for the Aussie/Belorussian to produce a CD player, I had batteries; quite a little party was had!