Kyrgyzstan is very green and quite pretty. The people have become progressively more chinese looking as we’ve gone east, and now we’ve turned north the Kyrgyz people look more mongolian. In the rural mountain areas they have yurts and there are lots of horses. The towns are just like in any other stan. In Osh we easily find places to change money, buy food, petrol, and oil for our overdue oil change. In Zalalabad we get lost and waste more than an hour trying to find the road out. When we do, Dave’s bike dies, maybe overheating from lack of oil. A top up and it seems fine. Then we camp in another scenic nowhere, more pasta for dinner, this time with wine, the first since Georgia. It’s Angelina Jolie wine. It’s absolutely disgusting. A few cars pass, all give a friendly toot, a nod and a wave. Later, 4 kids herding horses appear and nervously creep down the hill towards us. I wander over and greet the older, braver one, and hand over 4 chocolate sweets and shake hands. The second oldest develops some bravery and comes forward to shake hands too, then they all disappear to who knows where. A thunder storm makes us retreat to the familiar comfort of our tents at the end of another fantastic day. In the near dark a horseman and his herd come by. His whoops and yelps and the ghostly shadows of horses are quite spooky and remind me that we’re in a very different culture.