January 19, 2023
Traveling Through Kyrgyzstan, Part 2: Ooh This is Me I'm Having Fun!by Randi / October 10, 2017
Now that our time in yurts is over (forever?!), I could fully relax (well I still had to worry about bathroom breaks) and enjoy the rest of our journey around Kyrgyzstan. This country kept surprising me! The people were nice, the food was plentiful, the watermelon was given to me, the roads were in existence. Most of all, the landscape kept enthralling us with its extremely varied beauty. We still had a few more days driving with Sacha around Lake Issyk Kul and in small villages and towns before we landed in Bishkek, the big city capital. I liked the activities almost as much as I liked the fact that we had activities, but I started to get sick of the little villages. (Literally.) Hence my completely shocking personal revelation mentioned in the title.
Catch up on the previous Kyrgyzstan posts!
Crossing the Torugart Pass; Tash Rabat
Part 1: Back in the Yurt Camps
Part 2: Issyk Kul and Kyzart Village
Crossing the Torugart Pass; Tash Rabat
Part 1: Back in the Yurt Camps
Part 2: Issyk Kul and Kyzart Village
Snow capped mountains never get old
Day 5
“Everything’s coming up (roses?)”
Our lovely be-gardened guest house in Tamga village continued delighting us on this new day, with a lovely breakfast in the lovely little dining space surrounded by the beautiful flowers and tons and tons of…bees. Bees? Bees. I guess with flowers come bees. We had forgotten this since bees are super endangered everywhere else in the world save for this garden, apparently. I had oatmeal and watermelon and apples for breakfast so it was a great start, aside from the bees.
“Everything’s coming up (roses?)”
Our lovely be-gardened guest house in Tamga village continued delighting us on this new day, with a lovely breakfast in the lovely little dining space surrounded by the beautiful flowers and tons and tons of…bees. Bees? Bees. I guess with flowers come bees. We had forgotten this since bees are super endangered everywhere else in the world save for this garden, apparently. I had oatmeal and watermelon and apples for breakfast so it was a great start, aside from the bees.
We set off on our drive, stopping shortly again at the lake shore for a few minutes just to take more pictures and enjoy the view for a little longer and so I could pee in the most picturesque outdoor pop-a-squat location yet. You’re welcome.
We drove through a valley called Jeti Oguz, which is famous for its enormous cliff-face stretch of the same name, which means Seven Bulls. The cliff face is of dark reddish brown bumpies that symbolize “furious bulls” standing together. I am a taurus; is that the bull one? If so I would like to be called Furious Bull from now on. If not I don’t care astrology is dumb as a trump.
furious bulls
The plan was to continue our eventual complete loop around Issyk Kul Lake by heading to our next stop of Karakol, but we had a surprise stop at the most amazing geo park (eco park? both). Seriously, it was a surprise to us at least, because the itinerary for today pretty much just said ‘drive to karakol’. So unforch that means I don’t know what this geopark was called (I’ve been trying to find it online! Maybe it existed just for us like a Brigadoon situation OMG IS KELLI O’HARA GOING TO SING WHEN I’M THERE??? oh no chill out this already happened and she didn’t, time doesn’t work like that no matter what McConaughey says (just kidding I totally believe him). The whole big area is Jeti Oguz and it might just be the resort or park or the same name but I can’t confirm.
For a few hours we drove along (and across!) the most beautiful somehow jade-colored rapids, up and around the rockiest of paths (I almost didn’t care because it was so beautiful but man alive that was some shaking) and hills and the scariest little bridges across the river rapids. Those bridges, man alive, I saw the first and was like ‘who would be dumb enough to walk across that little plank of a bridge!’ and then we DROVE across it, across ALL of them, in an SUV.
taken from a rickety little plank bridge erma erma erma
This valleypark was enormous! There’s security at the entrance (I guess it works because the whole thing is surrounded by mountains that sneakers can’t drive down so) and then you can just drive and hike for miles and miles and hours and hours like we did, all along this insane colored water. I know it doesn’t look amazing in the pictures (no filters!) but it was like pure jade and so incredibly beeyoot.
After we drove through most of this amazing valley, Sacha parked the car in a clearing and was like ‘there’s a waterfall about 40 minutes hike that way’ he literally just nodded his head upwards. That way just meant ‘up’ the mountain. And he said we should go check it out. We were hey so how do we find it exactly, like how much upping and in what part of the ENDLESS MOUNTAINS AROUND US ARE WE TALKING. He pointed to a person on a horse about halfway up the mountain and was like ‘they’re going to the waterfall so you can follow the path they are taking.’ Guys this was not helpful. The horse was like already a kilometer up the mountain and we couldn’t tell how he got to that point or what came next. We started up the mountain and the ‘trail’ was pretty much ‘do you see a way you can go that will let you continue your journey? does it seem a little ridiculous but less ridiculous than the other options you observe? follow that one!’ It was scary! Thank god Z was a boy scout because he could tell MUCH better than I could which fork prongs (tines?) were probably the right ones. The scary trail (or lack thereof) put me in a mood something terrible. AND of course I kept skidding the whole time because it was gravelly!
Finally, after lots of treacherous rocky crossings and tree branches that gave way when I tried to grasp them, we found the waterfall. IT WAS FINE.
“just go up” “okay, monster man”
who dat ninja
view from our waterfall trek
So apart from the skidding and the constant fear of tumbling down the mountain because of the tiny little narrow not-trails, this whole geo park majig was amazing! It’s so beautiful and so fun. I wish I knew its name.
I couldn’t know it betterrrrrr if I knew its name! (anyone?)
Because we had to enter (with tickets I think) at the entry point (you don’t say), we had to drive allll the way back through the valley and across the rapids and over the bridges and through the woods in order to leave. Haha ‘had to’ like it wasn’t such a treat to see it all again. We continued our drive towards Karakol in order to reach that town by lunchtime. I was sooo pumped for lunch because, are you ready for this? You know the website (and super useful app) HappyCow that I talk about all the time? If you don’t know, it tells you what restaurants near you (everywhere in the world) have vegan options. It’s magic (no it’s crowdsourced so if you find something incorrect it’s on you to fix it). Well, the ONLY HappyCow listing for ALL of Kyrgyzstan that wasn’t in Bishkek (the big fancy capital) was in Karakol! I was so so excited. We found the place, called The Fat Cat Cafe, sat down and looked at the menus and…there was not one thing veg on it. Well there was a grilled cheese for vegetarians CAN YOU SEE HOW HARD I’M ROLLING MY EYES? I asked the worker ‘hey so I was told that you had vegan food?’ and the woman said “Oh yes I can make you lentil soup if you give me like a half hour, 45 minutes? I haven’t been to the market yet today so I would need to buy vegetables and lentils.” THA FUCK? I reread the only other HappyCow review of the place (there’s a second on on there now with the TRUTH you’re welcome) and it said there was vegan food ‘on request’. So, first of all, no way in hell this place should be on HC if it doesn’t have any regular menu items that are veg. Second of all, WHAT KIND OF RESTAURANT ISN’T PREPARED FOR THE DAY AT 2PM ON A SATURDAY? Isn’t that your busiest time, all restaurants in the world? What kind of place is run like that? And I don’t just mean for the vegan request. Like, she hadn’t been to the store yet, at all, on a Saturday afternoon. And she had other employees just sitting around. What kind of fuckery I can’t even. I reported them to HC hoping to get them deleted but they are still on there. Le sigh.
Luckily Sacha has been to every restaurant in town and knew good ones with vegetarian options. If I’m reading my blursula picture of the menu correctly, it was Dastorkan restaurant, a good restaurant and an amazing name for a JK Rowling character. The menu even had 3 green-tipped pages that were all the vegetarian options.
do you think they put my salad on a heart-shaped plate because they knew how much I love salad
vegetable soup!
broccoli to share! I share my vegetables I”m such a good wife
This place was great! We also got the requisite basket of fluffy lavash bread. It was great…except, I don’t know if it was the food here, or the food the night before, or the spring water from a few days ago, or who knows how many endless factors, but I started to feel sick soon. We were staying in Karakol that night, at a nice little guest house about 10 minutes drive from the restaurant. We arrived and relaxed for a little and I had a little of the Travelers’ (TM(i)) but thought nothing of it. Z and I soon walked to a cafe to use their wifi (yay!) and after a little while I Traveled (TM(i)) again. I started to feel worse so I said let’s walk back to the house, I don’t feel so good. We had made it about 2/3 of the way when I vomited the hardest I ever have right on the sidewalk. Well in a grass patch but still. It was very violent and horrible and so painful that I thought I was choking. LUCKILY it happened, if you can even believe it, in front of what can only be called “Apteka Row” (the russian word for pharmacy) – a whole string of pharmacies. Z ran into one and I think just pointed out the window to me and was given anti vomit and anti nausea pills. It seemed to help a little, despite the fear of taking unmarked Kyrgyz pills (I still have some if anyone wants to try! or examine). When we returned, I told Sacha I wasn’t going to eat dinner and he was SO mad because the owner lady had already started making it and I was like okay if you really want me to try I will happily vom again on her little white tablecloth. I didn’t say that but I should have. But like come on dude.
So, I just slept the whole evening and night. Luckily I had some saltines from China in my pack and had those in the morning. Saltines are amazing. You watching The Good Place (also amazing)? You know when Ted Danson is like “I wish I could have tried a saltine”? I feel him.
Someone tell McConaughey to get a message to this girl in the past and alert her ‘girl you gon vom’
DAY 6
“Suuuuunday morning TIME FOR CHURCH!”
The mean old lady and the mean old Sacha made me drink tea for breakfast even though I HATE tea especially strong black tea and, guess what, tea makes me nauseous, because they both thought that my drinking bottled water instead of tea was what made me sick. This is the kind of ‘bullshit science’ that republicans can only DREAM of taking hold in America. FFS. It’s funny, actually – our Trans Siberian guidebook mentioned offhand that old Russians in Siberia had a weird rampant distrust of ‘dangerous’ cold water, warning against its consumption for no reason other than that it had become a rural myth. But now in Kyrgs we actually meet the old (ethnic) Russians who believe this! Ahhhhh! Shut UP!
We had a busy morning planned with lots of activities and somehow we still had to end the day at our guest house in Chon Kemin – more than 300 kilometers away! First we had a visit to Karakol’s mosque, called the Dungan Mosque, which is really cool because it was built like a Chinese Buddhist temple! We haven’t seen nearly enough of those! No it was really cool to see how the roof had dragons and other traditional Chinese symbols carved all over, and the structure as a whole was very China.
buddha mosque buddha mosque
What was not cool, was that this mosque made women wear these RIDONK heavy coverups like f-ing WIZARD robes. So smelly and so extra hot in this weather and just ugh annoying. I try to be chill about all religions but I can’t get behind any of the parts that require women to cover up so the mens don’t get too excited. Control YOURSELF, Aaron.
who dis ninja
it me
After the mosque, we went to the Holy Trinity Orthodox Church. So much religion! The church was built in 1894 in the ‘six-pillared’ fashion but it has only 4 pillars! Fan thyself!
I really dig the whole decaying wood thing they have going on here. Very wool.
After all the gods and everything, we were to see a local museum in the town of Cholpon Ata, which is a really satisfying name to say. Unfortunately, the museum was closed, despite the sign on the door with the museum’s schedule clearly stating that they should be open right now. Guyssss. Sacha made a few calls and we amused ourselves in the small grocery store next door. GUESS WHAT I FOUND.
MANNER!!! Why didn’t I get more than one? (Ed. note: Don’t cry for me. Have you seen my instagram? Thanks Emmeline & Josh!)
When we returned to Sacha, he had bad news: The museum people said it was closed today because they had no electricity. Sacha didn’t buy their excuse and said “I think it’s really because they are sleeping.”
We still had more to do though, so no harm no foul. Next up was the Open Air Museum of Petroglyphs – a whole field of rocks and boulders with ancient drawings made from carving or scraping and such. Some had miraculously retained their clarity, but most had faded in the like thousands of years.
After we burned in the dry sun to a sufficient crispiness, we had lunch at a terrible cafe on the side of the road that was giant and full of tourists and had wifi but had a terrible waitress. She brought me my vinaigrette salad with fish on it even after Sacha made sure she knew no fish! Who puts fish on a vinaigrette anyway! Also people were smoking in the bathroom. It was an OUTDOOR restaurant. I don’t understand. I ate some vegetarian borscht instead (soup is always a good idea) and then we continued the drive to Chon Kemin and our last guest house, one run by the popular tour agency CBT (we were looking at CBT and NoviNomad when we were deciding who to go with, but CBT was terrible at answering emails and our questions so NoviNomad luckily won out. If you like loud hostels with giant dorms full of yoots, CBT seems the choice for you.) Because it was a CBT house, it was full of the most tourists we’d seen in weeks! It was a nice enough place and it had wifi! It was just a shock to have all the noise and PEOPLE when we’d been mostly in isolation for so long. I love isolation from other tourists.
The best part was the saddest part – our last gorgeous communal dinner in a yurt with the traditional set up. How wonderful is this kind of meal!
There were many plates of tomato salad (course) and vermicelli and carrot salads all over, and then the main event was plov, the main dish of Kyrgyzstan (and Uzbekistan and like the entire region I think). Plov is a rice pilaf usually with giant hunks of mutton or other gross meat (spoiler all meat is gross) on top. It’s a lot of rice. Mine was rice with bits of carrot. It was a lot of rice – the vegetarian platter was almost as big as the meat version but the meat plate was for like 11 people and the veg was just for me! How much rice do you think I can eat! I have to save room for watermelon!
We made some small talk with the other tourists and met some that didn’t make us too angry or annoyed (progress) but then, as is our wont, spent most of the night trying to get the weak wifi to connect. We heart wifi. Then we enjoyed our last night’s sleep in a shared space! We hate sharing! From here on out – hotels! (Well and hostels but private rooms!) Tomorrow we leave for Bishkek!
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Vegan In Mexico City Part 2: Coyoacan! Frida! Nacho Libre!
What’s up party people! We’re back and ready to talk more about Mexico City! We have so much to talk about because as usual we packed an absurd amount of Activity into our short time there. (Okay other practiced travelers are probably saying ‘no you do a normal amount of Activity for a travel blogger since we need to see as much as possible when visiting a new place’ but you forget how much sleep I need.) As I said in Part 1 of the CDMX posts, we’re breaking up the info roughly by neighborhood to give it at least a chance at making organizational sense.
ok these might not be bears but you get it
In this post, we’re moving south to the Coyoacán neighborhood of Mexico City, where we find the famous blue house of Frida Kahlo, Casa Azul. I mean I guess it’s the famous house of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera but he seemed like a bit of a wanker so I’m going to focus less on him. Just a few blocks away is the Leon Trotsky house, where the Soviet revolutionary/Marxist/politician/Bolshevik/ Communist Party leader/&c lived and died in exile but not before partying with the Kahlo fam bam. I almost used a photo of the Trotsky house as the banner picture for this post but thought that might be weird/get me on lists. Anyway, aside from those two house museums we’re gonna eat great food and then go to a spectacular spectacle that I shockingly loved: Lucha Libre, the crayballs Mexican wrestling extravaganza.
Let’s start with the Commies!
THE LEON TROTSKY MUSEUM-HOUSE
Since I’m American, let’s start with the commies. You know how into all things Russia we’ve been for the past few years, learning as much as we can about the people taking over America, &c (and their language! правда!) so we weren’t missing this. I recommend a visit – it’s pretty quick and fairly interesting. It costs 40 pesos and would not take you more than 40 minutes to visit, so it’s like a peso per minute, a ratio that bothers me much less for museums than it does for theatre, strangely.
Trotsky was kind of a big deal in the USSR in the early 1900s, which is pretty much the time of all the big Soviet leaders whose names you know, like Stalin. Trotsky did not like Stalin. I mean no one ‘liked’ Stalin but he did it to his face. I really want to give him the nickname ‘The Trots’ but he’ll probably haunt me for that so no. Okay, so Leon was big into Marxism as a teen, as all teens are (?) and helped form the South Russian Workers’ Union. Since that sounds kinda nice, unions are good, he was exiled to Siberia, while I on the other hand paid to go there which is hilarious. (It’s not bad.) An enterprising young Trotter escaped to England, changed his name to the one we know now, and met up with fellow Bolshevik revolutionary Lenin, and they drank and argued in all the classic English pubs every night till closing about which of them would be commemorated in the future in every single Russian village and city with a giant and I mean GIANT bust of his head. (It was Lenin.) Mista Trotterrrr returned to Russia in 1905 for the Russian Revolution and was again exiled to Siberia and again escaped. This f-ing guy, am I right?
His radicalism got his azz thrown out of lots of otherwise nice places like Paris, Spain, NYC, and Switzerland (I mean but ‘neutrality’ favors the oppressors so fork you) (I know I know it is bothering me too that that list goes city, sovereign, city, sovereign but that’s how the source material I’m referencing does it ugh) and then he went back to Russia in time for the 1917 revolution. I mean he shows up for the important events, you gotta hand it to him. He was instrumental in the Bolshevik’s successful power grab, and he became Lenin’s secretary of foreign affairs. He did lots of stuff, yada yada yada, learned English from Seinfeld, and seemed to be the successor to Lenin, but as The Death of Stalin taught us, once a leader gets sick all hell breaks out and the succession struggle falls into chaos. When Lenin died, Stalin emerged as leader, and since Trottingham East didn’t like him and in fact openly criticized his polices, Stalin propagandaed him, removed him from his posts, and then exiled him from the Communist Party and then the Soviet Union. After some time in Turkey and a few other Euro stops, Trottingham North was granted asylum in Mexico! Yay Mexico! He and his fam first lived at the Casa Azul with Frida! Did you know! Trotavarius had an affair with Frida, a fellow Communist (Alexander did you know), but like who didn’t (we will get there). I imagine he also ate some amazing food that must have been a welcome respite from cucumber-tomato salad (what I had all throughout the former USSR). After a few years and a few too many fights with Diego (I can imagine what about), the Trotskys moved a few blocks away to their own house, which is now the museum. Despite being probably as far away as possible, Stalin was still mad and prob jealous of the food so he ordered Trotsky’s assassination. The first one, using guns, was a failure, but the last one, with an ice axe, well, the details make it seem like also a failure (I wish I didn’t know the details) but he died the next day from his wounds.
So the museum! So fun! The entry building has lots of photographs from Trotsky’s life and info about his work. It was fun to practice reading Cyrillic again and to listen to all the Russian tour groups (I think when we were there it was just us and Russian tour groups). It’s not super informative but some of the photos are interesting. The real focus of the museum is his actual house and gardens. It has been kept just as it was when he lived there, which means it’s dark, due to bars and shutters on the windows. That also means some of the interior walls still have bullet holes from the failed attack. In the kitchen, his pots and pans are still out; in the bedrooms, shoes are still lined up; and in Leon’s study, his papers and glasses and books are still on his desk. Out in the lovely gardens is his tomb.
So, it’s not the most popular tourist attraction, but I definitely recommend a quick visit before the Casa Azul, especially since his relationship to the Kahlos can help you understand them more.
CASA AZUL: THE BLUE HOUSE OF FRIDA KAHLO
When you visit the Frida house, you buy tickets online in advance. It’s too busy and popular to risk otherwise. But even so, you’ll wait in an endless line snaking around the house, around the block, and several blocks away to enter. Yes, when we arrived in what we thought was good time for our ticketed slot, ticket holders were waiting in a queue for almost an hour. In the SUN, guys. It was rough. If it was for the theatre I would have missed most of the first act and demanded an exchange and better seats.
Is it worth it? I mean I’m not a Frida nut but it’s pretty interesting and, ya know, it’s the big f-ing thing to do. If you really don’t care, then by all means skip it; there’s no reason to set aside a whole afternoon for it. But if you have the time, it’s fairly interesting. You learn a lot about Frida, what she went through, what kind of person she really was. And the house is lovely.
Once you enter, they will try to shuffle you straight into the museum part of the house, where you look at Frida’s and Diego’s paintings with lots of tourists taking selfies with them even though, if I recall correctly, you aren’t allowed to take pictures. Don’t let them manhandle you though – there are no bathrooms until you finish the entire inside tour of the house, so find them first and then go back. It’s a MADHOUSE, wall-to-wall people, and you’ll get agita trying to read about all the works when people are blocking everything. There are some interesting works in these initial rooms, but the better stuff awaits when you see the rooms as they lived in them.
I especially liked the kitchen. I don’t think we were allowed to take pictures but we have this one, so.
Surprisingly, the super long video that’s playing on a deck out in the garden space was incredibly interesting. I usually zone out in museum videos, especially ones that are this long (it’s like a whole movie) but it was great. As we already learned, Frida had an affair with Trotsky, but did you also know she probs had one with…Georgia O’Keefe? Yah. More important than her affairs is the information about Frida’s chronic pain. She had polio as a small child and its effects changed her body forever, leaving her with one leg shorter and significantly weaker than the other, due to muscle atrophy. As a teenager, she would suffer even more after a streetcar accident, which left her with fractured ribs, spine, clavicle, pelvis, leg, a crushed foot, a dislocated shoulder, and an iron railing through her hip and pelvic floor, causing the infertility represented in many of her paintings. They didn’t think she would survive the accident, but she did, and was left with a lifetime of pain.
Her father encouraged her to start painting as she recovered, and that’s how she met Diego. If you’re more familiar with her art than I was, you’ve seen her pain and suffering, as well as her strength, in her works.
In fact, her famous clothing style was a direct result of that: her corsets were really back braces helping her stand up. The square tops of her Tehuanan ethnic heritage could fit over and hide the brace. Flowers in her hair, her famous braids, and other interesting adornment above the neck would lead people to look up instead of down at her broken, withered legs, which were also hidden often by big skirts.
She went through a lot, is what I’m saying. And I knew some of her famous work and some generalities about her life, but I never knew she was disabled. She was an artistic pioneer in large part because of her pain, and it’s worth noting how her disability is largely erased from the popular narrative (and of course the cinematic portrayals). Of course, she still had quite a life – people long thought of her as a victim to Diego’s infidelity, but girl could get it too, and did – but you understand a lot more about her when you know how she was constantly suffering.
Also, she and Diego were Communists. I think it fairly hilarious how much she would despise the capitalist pigs who make endless tee shirts and tote bags with her face on them and how bewildered she’d be by the people wearing them. She’d hate the gift shop on her property selling all kinds of shit with her face. I think she’d hate the Christmas ornaments most of all, or she’d find it all utterly hilarious.
Okay, that’s enough of the serious stuff for today, right? Let’s switch to Arizona trash-bag mode and talk about food and wrestling.
VEGAN FOOD
Coyoacan is a fantastic neighborhood for vegan food. We planned on eating lunch at Aura Vegana (at Malintzin 199), and we stick to most plans, but we were almost enticed away to several other vegan establishments we discovered just as we wandered!
First, we saw Pan Gabriel, a bakery billing itself as entirely vegan! According to HappyCow, it is all vegan, but heads up – inside, we found several products with egg, and several others that reminded me of that one doughnuttery that appeared at the UK Vegan Fest like 9 years ago and told everyone that their giant amazing doughnutty things were vegan even though they looked exactly like another company’s products that were not vegan and then they disappeared from the face of the earth, so, ya know, be wary.
They have a lot of gorgeous bread products, cakes, rolls, sweet empanadas, all kinds of bakery treats that made me absolutely lose my shit and overpurchase in a glutinous fit. However, the actual goodies were disappointing. Everything was very bready, even the things that weren’t supposed to be bread, like doughnuts and cookies and brownies and cakes and well I guess that’s everything. And nothing was sweet enough. Honestly I would skip unless you hear of improvements, or unless you like your treats to be shiny bread.
LITERALLY NEXT DOOR to Pan Gabriel is a restaurant called Temictli, which is billed as ‘Plant-Based’ on the awning but even though I despise the cowardliness of people using that phrase all the time now instead of just saying vegan, they get a pass because they sound amazing and the lady was so nice (also because it’s not in an English speaking country so they can do what they want with words). Temictli’s menu looked OFF THE CHIZZ:
This is not even all of it! We were so tempted to stay put and skip Aura Vegana, but unforch the lady explained that even though she let us in and gave us a menu to look at, they weren’t actually open yet. Oops. Next time Temictli, you sound AMAZ.
So that means we stuck to our plan of Aura Vegana, which was pretty good.
Aura Vegana is a small cafe on the ground floor, right at the entrance, of a larger building with a bar up top and other restaurants inside. They have English versions of their menus, and they have green juice. I was sold before we sat down.
I assume I ordered an ‘Emerald’ juice, which mixed my classic hits like celery, orange, coocoomba, kale, spinach, parsley, and lemon, but I have a slight memory of husbo saying something like ‘you always have stuff like that at home’ so there’s a chance I actually had the ‘Turquoise’, which is celery, parsley, grapefruit, prickly pear, and pineapple. Either way guys, they have various green juices and it’s cool.
Since apparently I share pictures of menus now, here’s one from Aura:
I don’t know why these are called ‘Morning Dishes’ and the next page of the menu – all food from other cultures, like ravioli, various hamburgers, curry, hummus, Vietnamese noodles? – was called ‘Afternoon Dishes’, but definitely stick to Morning because you’re here for Mexican food.
We decided to share an order of enchiladas and an order of chilaquiles. This was baby’s first chilaquiles, which means I didn’t realize what I was getting into: it’s like, fried tortillas with sauces and junk on it, and it’s pretty delicious but was pretty heavy for me. Also, for being called ‘tofu chilaquiles’, there wasn’t much tofu. In fact, there was one piece on top, so, you know. The enchiladas were great, a bit more my speed though it was all heavy, creamy, filling food. We chose the little hogweed and portobello version, although there was not enough little hogweed – I found one strip of greenery which I’m assuming was the little hogweed. Maybe that’s why they said little.
It was all delicious, if heavy, but I should have known that going in. The cashew cheese on top was excellent, as was all the sauciness. Mexican food is amazing.
Outside, we passed a local park that was literally covered in paleta and gelato shops. Paletas are the Mexican ice pops that are made from incredible fruit purees (if you are cool and want vegan ones), which we enjoyed throughout the Yucatan. We decided on watermelon and horchata sorbets from one of the parkside shops, and we liked it, and we loved it.
LUCHA LIBRE
Alright I’m here, she’s here, we all made it to the craziest thing we did in Mexico City, the thing you have to do if you visit CDMX even though it seems ridiculous and if you’re like me you are probably like ‘really?’ but if you are like me you will give it a shot and you’ll be glad you did because it’s HYSTERICAL and SO FORKING ENTERTAINING. On a Friday night after our exploration of Coyoacan and communism and everything, we took the metro to the Arena Mexico for some Mexican wrestling, straight out of the Jack Black movie Nacho Libre but probably not entirely like that but honestly I’ve never actually seen it so shh but it doesn’t matter because now I’ve seen the REAL THING, BABIEEEES!
Lucha Libre is Mexico’s professional wrestling, of the sort you’d see on TV where you know they were faking it but it doesn’t matter. The wrestlers wear masks and costumes and have specific characters to play. The wrestling is as boisterous and raucous as the crowd, and they favor dramatic flips and crashes and bams (I don’t know all the terms) over rule-following and it is RIDICULOUS and it is HILARIOUS and it is AWESOME. I cannot recommend it enough.
When we arrived at the Arena Mexico, there was a line longer than the Frida house line, but it moved. We didn’t have tickets, and neither did the many western tourists in line with us. We had fun talking about our travels and Nacho Libre with the other tourists (I’m really good at lying about movies), and we also bought some amazing swag. Ingeniously, the sidewalks along the side of the building/blocks and blocks where the line travels are filled with souvenir stands. We bought husbo’s brother a Lucha Libre mask, then a few minutes later at another stall we bought him a cape (he’s a fan), then a few minutes later we got t-shirts. It’s like a neighborhood version of the rack by the supermarket checkout.
When we got to the main entrance, we were told there were good 200 peso tickets left for great seats. If you want to spend less, I’m sure you could. The place is freaking enormous, and I don’t think it’s possible for it to sell out, so don’t worry about tickets being available. There were lots of high sections that remained empty.
The only downside to going to Lucha Libre is the venue security, worse than any I’ve dealt with yet. Not only did they take my water – and they didn’t have any free water in the venue, only bottles for sale, which is illegal??? – and my snacks, they took MY GUM. My gum that I can only get in the USA and needed for the plane home so I didn’t vom! Dammit security lady! So so weird.
Aside from that though, it was stellar. Such a spectacle, such a loud ridonk spectacle, and so much fun.
We saw a lineup of 5 matches, I think, including group fights, a random parade of women? I forget, it was bright and loud. But it was awesome. We had recently enjoyed season 2 of Glow so we were jonesing for some well choreographed wrestling that looked painful but wasn’t.
I honestly can’t believe how much I enjoyed this. I definitely recommend it for a touristy but fun cultural experience that you kind of cannot miss. Once we were seated, it ran from about 8:30pm-11pm, about the length of a regular show we’d be at on a Friday night anyway, so it was a new super fun kind of evening entertainment for us.
Here’s my absolute favorite part: all the Mexican babies that are not only up so late but exposed to the UNBELIEVABLE NOISE of this place (bring earplugs if you’re sensitive…not that this baby had any…)
Alright, that’s it for this post! Which of the things that you are probably surprised to have found in this post did you enjoy the most, the Communism or the wrestling?
Oh oh one more thing, found in a shopping mall:
From Kyrgyzstan to Kazakhstan: In Which I Get in an Unmarked White Van And Live to Tell the Tale
After our 10 or so wonderful (well, like six were) days in Kyrgyzstan, we were due to find our way to Kazakhstan. If you’ve been following along this adventure for the past three months, I know what you’re thinking: ‘Oh they’re gonna take another train! Hah I hope this one is clean!’ Bitch I WISH there was a train! I wish we could cross the next few borders on our agenda by train instead of figuring it out ourselves when we don’t speak the language and the locals are insane! But no no no, Kyrgyzstan DOESN’T HAVE TRAINS. Didn’t you find it odd that I haven’t written about trains in a while? I know I miss it too. Well there aren’t any so deal. Our options for getting from Bishkek to Almaty were: private car (too expensive), private car shared with other tourists (still a bit expensive; hard to find other tourists willing to do this; hard to negotiate with the driver when we don’t speak the language well; we hate strangers), or marshrutka (the unmarked white vans perfect for kidnappings but instead used in this region for public transit mm okay). Well gird your loins because we chose the latter option.
Marshrutkas, little white vans used for public transport, are how everyone gets around in these parts. It’s all the rage! No it’s really the only option. We’d used them before in Mongolia and I want to say some places in Russia but those were to get to tourist sights outside the city centers, not to cross into other countries on fully day-long trips! I would have to pee SO much. But alas, it was the best option: tried and trusted according to other crustier travelers we met, cheap, reliable. Reliable as far as getting you there, I mean. Not reliable like having any sort of respect for departure times, oh no, perish that thought.
Our hotel in Bishkek, the Futuro Hotel, offered free transfers from Bishkek to the Kyrgyz side of the border, about 45 minutes away, so we were happy to at least have that leg taken care of, even though it’s the easiest bit. Of course, a different staff member informed us, like, the day we were leaving that that freebie is not for guests staying there through their tour companies (NoviNomad had booked our stay). So that’s a big old pile of bullshit; someone remind me to drag them on TripAdvisor. So instead of our plan of freeing it to the Kyrgyz border point (called Kordai, which is super close to how you pronounce Kodaly, the name of Gavin Creel’s character in ‘She Loves Me’), we could pay for a taxi there and then get a Kazakh-only marshrutka or taxi the rest of the way to Almaty, or we could taxi to the Bishkek bus station and get a marshrutka from Bishkek all the way to Almaty. We didn’t like the thought of getting across the border at Kordai and then not having our transport figured out for the Kazakh leg – the cars and vans waiting on the other side could charge extortionate prices since we had no other choice. Thus! Marshrutka the entire way it is! This is where I would use that emoji of the face with the eyes bugging out all scared and what not.
After I cursed out the staff at Futuro for being stupid (just kidding I’m so polite irl), a taxi took us to the bus station in the center of Bishkek, along with another guest from the hotel. This other passenger was a Russian man probably mid-20s or 30s. We figured it’s a short ride and we might as well split the fare. How bad could it be? Guys it was so awkward. He asked where we were going and where we were coming from and we sort of said the long and short of being long(ish)-term travelers, and you know what his response was? “Are you rich?” I almost cracked up but come on who says something like that? I wanted to be like, “What are you, American? Only Americans think you have to be rich to travel” (because they don’t get any vacation time) (also hey soon Russians might all be given American citizenship for funsies so I guess I was right) but we just kind of said um no…? like…we’re normies but also that’s an inappropriate question? He was kind of scary though (are all white youngish Russian men??) so we didn’t say that last part. No etiquette lessons given today!
Once we got to the bus depot (it was for sure a depot and not a station, just like a mess of a parking lot with vans and cars jutting out in all directions and PEOPLE EVERYWHERE), we found a ticket window and bought two tickets to Almaty. I think it was the 10am marshrutka we bought tickets for. We were pointed to one of the white vans, which had about 6 little rows of seats (2 on one side of the aisle, 1 on the other) plus 4 seats across the very back. So this is a SMALL little van and there are seats for more than TWENTY passengers. Also the windows didn’t open and it was hot. Erma. We boarded (luckily this minibus situation had a little compartment in the back for luggage, not like our Lake Baikal shitshow) when there were about 10 people already onboard, and most of the seats up front were taken. I almost choked on the fear that we’d have to sit in that dreaded back row (girl I will THROW UP on you) (by ‘girl’ I mean ‘whoever is sitting in front of me in a slightly better seat’) but then I noticed two seats about three rows back that I thought were taken but had just a water bottle on it. I said omg let’s sit there and if anyone comes be like what water bottle I didn’t see anything (I know I’m a monster). Luckily no one claimed it.
We were told we had about 10 minutes so I went to the bathroom, stretched my legs, and tried to be okay with how dehydrated I was in preparation for at least five hours in a crammed minivan without fresh air. I was doing an okay job at calming myself but then I noticed that we were not leaving. We didn’t even have a driver visible in the vicinity. More and more people kept boarding – it got full. Twenty minutes past go time and still no driver. This one girl got on and off, on and off, talking to someone who maybe worked there but maybe was just a drifter? She was wearing a Mickey Mouse ear visor and we of course started imitating the Russian model on “New Girl” who said “why don’t you get in your spaceship like Mick Mouse” and that helped for a minute but then MORE TIME KEPT PASSING and we KEPT NOT LEAVING. Then two more people arrived and they were apparently this girl’s parents. I’m saying girl but she was like our age it’s not like this was an abandoned child (despite the visor). I was like well they’re not getting on our van anyway, it’s full. But no there was a thingy up by the driver’s seat that could be clamped down to make one solid row so the three of them crammed in next to the driver, who finally showed up. I was livid that we had apparently been waiting for 45 minutes (THAT’S RIGHT) for random people who could have just gotten on a different marshutka (there were like 1000!) instead of delaying ours that long but okay breathe. The driver backed out of his parking spot and pulled around to the main section of the lot, where you are supposed to drive. But instead. Instead he got out.
And he smoked.
I could cut a bitch.
Finally he got on and we left, about an hour late. It is very, very difficult for me/anyone who cares about anything to deal with this sort of chaos in things that could clearly be better organized. Z tried to calm me down by reminding me that our last train of this long trip would be going to Berlin. GERMAN TRAINS. That shit’ll be so on time it’ll blow your mind! Helped a little.
The ride to Kordai wasn’t too bad. The van dropped us off at the start of a long pathway towards the customs building. At one point on our walk, there was a counter with little forms to fill out – our customs declaration, I guess. I say I guess because it was in several languages but not English, so who knows what I signed off on. Fortunately a kind Greek person who does this route a lot (I don’t know) helped us fill out our forms. We had to do Kyrgyz exit customs first, which was very simple and straightforward. We got in the ‘Not locals’ line. Then we got into the main hall, where I witnessed two incredibly disturbing things. One was the giant welcome sign in the hall that read: “WELCOME TO KAZAKHSTAN. GOOD LUCK.” what the EVERLASTING TUCK?? good luck? why do we need luck? what’s going to happen to us!! So, so disconcerting. The other was the state of the hall itself, which was the site of one of my probably top 5 most distressing attempts at queueing. There were tons of windows with agents, but people didn’t know how to spread out so that you could join all the various lines. There were just mobs of people up at the front of the hall, and then there was so much line cutting and it was hard to see where to go omg it was a messsss. We got in a particularly bad jumble masquerading as a line but it was near the Greek person in case we had an issue so we stayed. It was easy though; we made our little ‘we’re just poor hungry tourists’ faces and got stamped through. On the other side was Kazakhstan! But more importantly – a toilet!
I really was only about 50, 55% sure that the mashrutka – with our bags – would be there when we got out but there he was! About 15 minutes after we got out of the building, all our fellow passengers were out and we were ready to drive for hours through Kazakhstan to Almaty, the best city that used to be the capital but it got too crowded so they moved the capital thinking that people would want to go to there but of course no one did because Almaty has STUFF and good stuff at that and Astana like doesn’t. Literally Astana was an empty pasture when they made it the capital in the ’90s. I’m sure now they have like buildings and roads but Almaty is still better. So I’ve heard.
Oh man I was thirsty! I am so eager for regular life when I can drink all the water I want and then have access to toilets. We had a stop about halfway through, somewhere between 90 minutes and 2 hours. It was this big Kazakh version of a rest stop, with a restaurant, shop, and public (paid) toilets. One Kyrgyz girl from our van paid for my toilet! I didn’t even know and then the lady motioned to say it’s taken care of. How nice is that?! Sometimes people are nice! There is no better gift you can give me than the gift of a bathroom break!
Almost everyone went into the shop and bought ice cream bars – it was hilarious, like we were on a school trip. Mick Mouse saw we were clearly not Kyrgyz or Kazakh and ORDERED us to try this one kind of ice cream, her favorite. I was like oh I don’t eat dairy Mick Mouse. Mick Mouse started talking to us and not just ordering us to buy things and it turned out she lived in Berlin! We love Berlin! We told her as much. She said some other things but I was distracted with how badly I wanted ice cream and how fitting it was that I probably wouldn’t be able to find vegan ice cream until we indeed get to Berlin.
Finally we got to Almaty, at about 4:30pm. Oh man I was so hungry. The station was under serious construction so we were dropped off kind of far from the actual entrance, which was not great because obviously I had to go to the bathroom as fast as possible. And just as fun, once I got to the station there was no sign for the toilet so I had to ask this random babushka in a cafe and she said it was around the back of the station and underground. Not a great start, Kazakhstan! Then we had to find a taxi to get to our hostel, Sky Hostel, our first in a while but one with strong ratings. Also every hotel in Almaty was weirdly expensive (it’s very surprisingly cosmopolitan!) so this hostel was our best doable option. With our packs and all our crap, we walked up and down the street asking cab drivers how much to go to the hostel neighborhood, and they all said WAYYY more than we were told it should be, because why wouldn’t they, we were ignorant tourists with all our luggage who needed a ride! Extort! We went up and down, back and forth in the heat and our state of exhaustion and each driver we found gave a higher price than the last. Finally we said f this, f it all, because guess what we found out?
Almaty has Uber.
I KNOW!
Yes Uber is problematic (worst board of any modern company?) and I would never use it in regular life if I had a choice, which I can’t imagine not being the case, but when we were stranded on the side of the road during our first hour in Kazakhstan and it was cheaper than the cabs were asking? Yes please! It was a super nice car that came, too.
The hostel was a little weird – Sky Hostel is located on the 11th floor of a regular building. Like you have to go in and take the ONE TINY BARELY WORKING elevator to reception on the 11th floor while regular workers and other citizens are using it too to get to whatever else was in that super shady building. So ridiculous. Luckily the hostel itself was fine. The girls (seriously children) working reception were completely inept but we were used to all that by now. Our room was on the 10th floor so we had to walk down the flight of stairs to get to it – the stairs that didn’t exist in the lobby and don’t actually take you to the lobby. The stairs are just from like floors 10-13 for the hostel use and blocked off below and above! So weird. Luckily the room was fine but the view from the 10th floor landing, hoo boy:
Such a lovely city! We were excited to go explore.
Okay, not really that night so much for exploring. We were exhaaaausted! But we were excited to finally eat that day. There was a promising Georgian restaurant with several locations, called Daredzhani. We went to the closest one to the hostel, about a half hour walk away (felt like hours). You know how we feel about Georgian food! It always saves us when we are in random locales and super hungry. As a vegan, I can count on finding interesting dishes at Georgian restaurants, including plenty of vegetables (always important when traveling) and amaaazing bread! Georgian fluffy breads are the bee’s knees. Well, Daredzhani kept up the tradition. SO good! The staff was incredibly friendly and the hostess spoke perfect English. We asked if by chance they had an English menu and she was like, um yes of course we do this is ALMATY. So things were definitely going to be a lot easier and more comfortable here than we expected when we planned to visit Kazakhstan! Almaty reminded us most of London than any other destination of the summer had.
But we will talk more about the city itself in the next post. The rest of this one is just going to be about our fantastic dinner!
I don’t normally like to drink anything that isn’t water, but Daredzhani had really fun lemonades on the menu. We tried the green and the red. Ha I don’t remember the flavors but they were good! But the food is where it’s at! As we are known to do, we ordered WAY too much and it was all great.
My favorite thing was the salad – they said it was spinach but it was stronger, like kale, which I loved, but I guess that’s just spinach in Kazakhstan maybe, with a tahini-like dressing I think made from walnuts, plus scattered pomegranate seeds. Such a perfect and simple dish! The vegetable soup was also simple and good, nourishing in a basic way rather than exciting, but we needed some of that! But the cauliflower dish in the background was the shizzz. I don’t know what that sauce was, but it was magic. I think it was nut based, as many Georgian sauces are, and it was like spicy but not hot and I don’t know it was sooo good. It was a chef’s special that night and I wasn’t going to order it because cauliflower is les boringles but Z wanted it and I was like fiiiine and then it was the best ever.
I adore how well they used nuts. This eggplant dish above had a walnut paste and pomegranates. It was great! Another staple we always get is lobio, a kidney bean dish served hot or cold. This one was hot (so the better option) and nice but needed some salt. I mixed it with some of the magic cauliflower sauce and it was phenomenal.
And of course the bread with its perfect rip-off handles. My fave.
So we didn’t really see any of Almaty on our first night but we had a wonderful dinner after an all-day ridiculous adventure crossing from one stan to another. After we get some much needed rest, we’d have two days to see all the sights in this promising city.
