After wrapping up the long and snowy winter season working in Lapland, Emilia and I found ourselves wondering where to go next. Pegasus Airlines had launched a campaign with some incredibly low fares, so naturally, we began looking at destinations they flew to. As I thought about places to visit, I was drawn back toward the Islamic world, a region that had left a strong impression on me from past travels.
Emilia then asked, “Do you want to go back to Kyrgyzstan? Even though you’ve been there twice already?”
I didn’t hesitate. Kyrgyzstan had a magnetic pull for me. The stunning mountains, the nomadic culture, and the sense of adventure called out again. We booked flights for early May and got to planning our itinerary.
I’d previously climbed in Kyrgyzstan’s Ala Archa mountains and even on Lenin Peak, but this trip with Emilia wouldn’t include climbing — instead, I wanted to show her the raw beauty of the country in a different way.
Kyrgyzstan – Land of Mountains, Nomads, and Endless Hospitality
Tucked away in the heart of Central Asia, Kyrgyzstan is a country where 90% of the land is covered by mountains, wild rivers carve deep valleys, and vast alpine lakes sparkle under endless skies. It’s a land where ancient nomadic traditions are still alive — yurts dot the high pastures, herders roam with their flocks, and strangers welcome you with tea, bread, and a genuine smile. Often overlooked by mainstream tourism, Kyrgyzstan rewards the curious traveler with raw, untouched beauty, incredible hospitality, and the kind of off-the-map adventures you thought only existed in travel dreams.
The Idea of the UAZ Buhanka Van
I remembered how in Georgia I had rented a Lada Niva with a collapsible tent on top, and that the company I used back then, Overlando, also rented out UAZ 452 Buhankas — those iconic Soviet vans that looked like tiny, rugged trucks.
“How cool would it be to drive a Buhanka in Kyrgyzstan?” I thought.
Googling around, I found a rental company based in Bishkek called Overland Kyrgyzstan. I reached out and got an immediate response: they still had vans available for May. Perfect.
Soon our route was sketched out, bags packed, and tickets in hand. We took the Pegasus flight from Helsinki to Bishkek via Istanbul, snagging a roundtrip deal for just 170€, which was crazy cheap for four flights totaling around 18 hrs.
Day 0 — Arrival in Bishkek, May 4th
We landed in Bishkek early morning on May 4th. The spring air was crisp and fresh, the city bathed in gentle sunshine.
Customs was nice and quick. Outside the airport, a bunch of taxi drivers shouted prices, trying to hustle tourists. We searched for our Yandex driver which we just booked after claiming our bags and found him after a bit of searching.
Our driver, Nur, was surprisingly fluent in English. He told us he had worked in a hotel in Dubai — so, in a way, he and Joona were colleagues. He shared insights about life in Kyrgyzstan, the current news, and local politics. Nur even invited us to his home for dinner after our road trip — a warm gesture that immediately introduced Emilia to the famed Kyrgyz hospitality.
We were tired, so after dropping off our bags at the hotel, we napped in the backyard until our room was ready. Later, we wandered the city’s main sights — Ala Too square, the nearby amusement park, and the Freedom Monument — before enjoying dinner at a local restaurant. This was Emilia’s first taste of Kyrgyzstan, and I was buzzing with excitement to share more.
Day 1 — Picking Up the Buhanka & Into the Mountains
At noon, we collected our UAZ Buhanka from the friendly Overland Kyrgyzstan team. Vlad, the owner, gave us a thorough driving lesson and explained the quirks of the van. The service was exceptional — personal, helpful, and encouraging.
Stocking up on groceries took nearly two hours because we wanted to prepare for our 7-day road trip with everything we might need.
The van’s controls were stiff and unfamiliar at first, but we quickly got the hang of it. Driving an old Soviet vehicle brought its own charm and challenge.
We started our journey toward Issyk Kul lake but soon turned off onto the Chon Kemin valley, a lush green landscape that reminded me of the rolling hills of Switzerland or Austria, framed by majestic snow-capped peaks.
As the tarmac ended, we hit some off-road terrain. The sun was dipping low, and Joona was anxious to find a camping spot before dark. We climbed a bit higher and found a flat, breathtaking campsite overlooking the valley. This was the perfect place to spend our first night.
While Emilia set up camp, I tried to capture some star frames with my new Sony a7IV, but the full moon washed out much of the sky. Still, the moonlight cast a magical glow over the valley.
Day 2 — Canyon Hike & Issyk Kul Peninsula
After breakfast porridge at camp, we returned to the valley and drove toward Issyk Kul.
On the way, we stopped at a fascinating Konorchek canyon. Kyrgyzstan’s landscapes are marked by extreme variety; one moment you’re in lush alpine meadows, the next in near-desert conditions. This canyon was almost lunar in appearance — red stone walls and dry desert, surrounded by snowy peaks.
We reached Issyk Kul, the second-largest saline inland body of water in the world, after the Caspian Sea. This massive alpine lake stretches over 180 kilometers and is known for its clear, mineral-rich waters, fed by glaciers and snowmelt. It never freezes in winter due to its salinity and depth.
Driving along the dry desert shores on the southwestern peninsula, we set up camp on a sandy beach. I tested the van’s low-range gearbox for the first time here. With a beer in hand, watching the sun set over this surreal landscape, we felt deeply grateful — this is why we travel.
Day 3 — Bokonbayevo Hike and Offroad
We started day three with a refreshing morning swim in Issyk Kul (Well, Joona did, Emilia didn’t dare to because the water was freezing) before driving to Bokonbayevo village along the lake’s southern shore. The highway was under heavy construction, slowing us down.
We passed charming Soviet-era villages, stopping often for photos.
Near Bokonbayevo, we discovered a little gravel road climbing to the valley with a yurt camp and some offroad trails. The road climbed sharply—500 meters in elevation—with amazing views over Issyk Kul and the village below.
We parked near the yurt camp and hiked about 500 vertical meters, giving Emilia her first experience above 3000 meters altitude. We stopped at a “fake summit,” since the actual peak was further away and too ambitious for that day.
Huge vultures circled overhead, searching for prey, while highland cows grazed nearby. The panorama was stunning: the blue lake below, jagged 5000-meter snow-capped peaks towering above.
We drove further into the valley to find a campsite. One spot had a steep gravel approach — we engaged four-wheel drive and low-range and the Buhanka effortlessly conquered it.
Nearby, locals were building a yurt camp for summer tourists, welcoming and friendly, but we chose to drive a bit further to another campsite. This perfect spot overlooked the valley, quiet and remote, but still close to Karakol and Bokonbayevo.
Day 4 — Barskoon Valley & Plateau Arabel
Our fourth day took us to Barskoon valley, famous for a big waterfall and a rough road climbing to an old gold mine near the Chinese border.
The descent back to Issyk Kul was tricky, with steep rocky slopes. At one point, Google Maps lost track of the road. We stopped at a farmhouse for directions — no English spoken and no phone reception meant we relied on gestures and smiles.
The farmer who helped us was ethnically interesting — he spoke Kyrgyz and Russian to us but seemed to switch to Chinese when speaking to his son, and even took a phone call in Chinese. This reflects the diverse ethnic makeup in the region, where Kyrgyz, Russians, Uighurs, and other groups intersect near borders.
We continued to the waterfall, marked by a peculiar statue of Yuri Gagarin, the first human in space. Gagarin trained in Kyrgyzstan during his cosmonaut preparation, making the area historically significant.
Up the hill
We took a short hike at the waterfall but waterfalls aren’t really our thing and the place was kind of touristic, so soon we headed up to Plateau Arabel at 4000 meters.
The gravel road up was in great shape, likely due to the active gold mine and heavy truck traffic. Hairpin turns offered breathtaking views, but our Buhanka struggled at altitude — the thin air choked the engine.
At the plateau, the wide open valley with snow-capped peaks around felt otherworldly — like being on the moon.
We hiked to a small hill just below 4000 meters, leaving the engine running in case it wouldn’t start again. A local guide told us the road continues to 4150 meters with epic views into China, so we pushed further, breathless from the altitude and cold winds.
After soaking in the vistas, we descended back to a riverside campsite surrounded by spruce trees and mountains — another perfect Kyrgyz gem.
Day 5 — Karakol City & Return to Lake Camping
We drove into Karakol city, planning to visit the Karakol gorge, only to find it was off-limits for our rental van due to the dangerous road condition.
Disappointed, we explored Karakol itself — enjoying a delicious lunch of local specialties like shashlik (grilled meat), mantis (steamed dumplings), and lagman (noodle soup). The food alone was worth the detour.
Heading back toward Bishkek, we detoured for some more offroad fun near Issyk Kul.
Once again, we found ourselves camping by the lake in a peaceful, sandy spot — quiet, beautiful, and perfect for reflecting on our journey so far.
Day 6 — Remote Valleys, Friendly Strangers & Our Final Camp
The next morning, we left our lakeside camp with a pocket full of epic drone footage and photos, the kind that make you question whether you’ve accidentally wandered into a travel documentary. We followed the main road only briefly before, of course, pulling over for some off-roading — after all, the Buhanka wasn’t built for asphalt; it was built for adventures.
Emilia, the master navigator, found us an “epic” route through a completely unmarked valley. Google Maps didn’t even acknowledge the existence of a road, but we had a professional off-roading strategy: switch to satellite view, squint at faint lines that might be tracks, and pin them down before we lost signal. Against all odds, it worked brilliantly.
The valley was a patchwork of tiny nomadic villages, where life seemed untouched by time. Every person we met was warm, genuine, and curious about our journey. At one point, we accidentally drove through a farmyard, half expecting to be scolded — instead, the owners came out smiling, welcomed us to Kyrgyzstan, and gave us directions. Encounters like this are why I adore Central Asia.
Eventually, the track spat us out near a large water reservoir where we’d planned to camp. Unfortunately, the wind was so fierce it felt like it could peel the roof off our van. We decided to retreat back toward Issyk Kul, finding a peaceful riverside spot just off the road for our final night in the Buhanka.
While cooking dinner, a group of local boys appeared with their donkeys to investigate the strangers in their valley. They spoke a few words of English, enough for some giggles and photos. We gave them candy, they gave us smiles, and for a moment, the day felt complete. We cooked our last road trip meal and reminisced about the wild week we’d just had.
Day 7 — The Long Road to Bishkek & Police Encounters
We decided to stick to the main highway for our return to Bishkek — a decision that should have guaranteed a calm, uneventful drive. But Kyrgyzstan had other plans.
Just past Balykchy, flashing lights appeared in the mirror. The police claimed we’d been doing 85 km/h in a 60 zone — a speed limit we never saw posted, on a four-lane highway with a central barrier. They wanted 7,000 soms (around €40). Before the trip, we’d been warned never to pay more than 2,000 soms (20€) in such situations, but of course, we only remembered that after handing over the rest of our cash. The officer got his payday, and we got a completely useless receipt — something Vlad confirmed with a laugh when we returned the van.
A bit more cautious now, we drove on, only to be stopped again — this time for a routine holiday check. Papers were inspected, questions asked, and we were waved through. A relief, since I’d lost my international driver’s license and Kyrgyz police aren’t known for leniency on such matters.
Back in Bishkek, Vlad greeted us with a smile and a handshake. We couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret — With a few more days, we could have reached Son Kul Lake. But that, we decided, would be an adventure for our next Kyrgyz journey.
City Days — Markets, Missed Circuses & Mountain Memories
After dropping off the van, we checked into our hotel and tried to book tickets to the local circus — Emilia had never been. Sadly, it was sold out, so we settled for a classic Bishkek dinner: sizzling shashlik and hearty lagman noodles.
The following day was slow and easy — some sightseeing, some wandering, and a visit to the bustling Osh Bazaar. Being Monday, it was partly closed, but we still managed to snag a few affordable treasures. As the sun dipped low, we grabbed golden-hour shots in the city and turned in early. The next morning, Ala Archa National Park was calling.
Hiking Ala Archa — Joy & Sadness in the Mountains
We took a Yandex taxi for the hour-long ride to Ala Archa Gorge, a place close to my heart. Years ago, I’d climbed here with my friends Niko and Maks — my first taste of the great Asian ranges. This time, we came for a gentler day hike.
But my heart sank when I saw how much had changed: a new cable car, a huge resort complex, and even a road carved into the mountainside. It felt like watching Sauron ravage Middle-earth. We nearly turned back, but a chance meeting with a friendly couple from Singapore convinced us to keep going. We hiked together, swapping stories, and later shared a taxi back to Bishkek.
That evening, we dined with one of my Instagram friends and her husband, a local tour guide. Over steaming plates of local specialties, we talked deep into the night about Kyrgyzstan’s past, present, and future.
Farewell to Kyrgyzstan
Our final day was spent tying up loose ends — laundry, Lenin statue hunting (my Central Asia tradition), and visiting the last few sights we hadn’t yet explored. We met up with Nur, the taxi driver who’d welcomed us to the country, and he invited us to his home for a farewell plov feast with his family. It was the perfect ending: warm hospitality, laughter, and the rich scent of slow-cooked rice and lamb.
This had been Emilia’s first trip to Kyrgyzstan, and as we packed for our early flight to Istanbul, she smiled and said, “We’re coming back.” I couldn’t have agreed more.
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