On the sixth day of our vacation, we reached the Barskoon Gorge, where we picked up a couple from Kazakhstan along the way. The Barskoon Gorge is one of the most beautiful mountainous places in Kyrgyzstan, with numerous stunning waterfalls. After Anastasia and I hiked to one of the waterfalls, she was already a bit tired and wanted to turn back. I didn't want to give up; I still had enough energy, and I planned to reach the remaining two waterfalls with their beautiful names: "Champagne Spray" and "Tears of the Snow Leopard."
I continued the ascent up the mountain. At first, it was relatively easy, with plenty of trails, but the higher I climbed, the steeper the incline became, the trails became scarce, and the solid ground gave way to loose soil. At some point, I veered off the correct trail and ended up on a less popular and riskier path leading upwards.
For the second time in my life, the Maps.Me app let me down. It works well in offline areas, but sometimes it glitches and can lead you astray, which happened to me once again. I decided not to turn back and instead continue along this, so to speak, path upwards.
I was dressed in long pants, a t-shirt, a cap, and had a camera slung across my chest. The sun was scorching mercilessly, and there was no shade anywhere nearby. I began to realize what a huge mistake I had made by starting the ascent without water, and it was too late to turn back. The trail I needed was running parallel to the one I was climbing, but there was no way to cross over; everything was densely overgrown with shrubs.
Exhausted and thirsty, I spotted a thin stream of water trickling down a sheer cliff directly ahead. Glinting on a rock, it offered a glimmer of hope. Continuing my ascent towards the water, I encountered a large rock blocking the path, and there was no way around it. Without much thought, I began to scramble up it, gripping the edge and pulling myself up. As I felt my grip slipping and started to slide, I realized that I would be rolling down at a steep angle for quite a distance. I don't know where I found the strength at that moment, but my fingers clung to the rock as if it were my last chance, allowing me to complete the ascent.
After ascending a little further, I came across a small stream trickling down a rock. I could only cup my hand under the thin stream of water, but it was more than enough at that moment. After quenching my thirst and splashing water on my face, I continued on. I had just a couple of meters to reach the sheer cliff from which the water flowed. My plan was to walk alongside it in the direction I needed to go, so I could reach the proper trail leading to the upper waterfall.
Almost reaching the sheer cliff, I scanned for the trail I desperately needed and spotted a tent with two people nearby. They were at least a hundred meters away from me, if not more. It made sense to assume that there must be a trail somewhere near them, or they could provide directions on how to reach it. The goal was clear; I just had to reach them. There was only one path, straight through a hundred thorny bushes, and I couldn't find any other way.
The prickly barriers didn't intend to let me pass without souvenirs. They lightly scratched my hands, ensuring I wouldn't forget about this path. Approaching the guys, the first thing I said after greeting them was:
Do you have any water? Or better yet, an empty water bottle?
The guys gave me water and cookies, offered breakfast and tea, but unfortunately, I couldn't stay long. Anastasia and the couple from Kazakhstan were waiting for me below, and I still had to finish the ascent.
I told them about my relatively easy route to this point, and I was shocked by how they managed to climb such a steep and loose surface with their backpacks. Even without a load, some parts were challenging for me, but I had a slightly different trail. I descended along the path they had ascended. It was somewhat easier, but still not an easy task to conquer such an ascent with a backpack.
After chatting with the guys, we exchanged contacts and Instagram handles so that I could follow their journey, as I was interested in how they traveled hitchhiking. I continued upward with an empty water bottle that had clearly seen better days.
That's how I met Masha and Andrey, who saved me from thirst on that scorching day in the mountains and, less than a month later, provided me with shelter and support during a difficult time for me.
Now, let's go back to Kazakhstan.
October 1st.
In the morning, as planned, we all started filling out the visa application for India together. This time, like everyone else, I applied for a one-year visa instead of five years. Masha had money on her local card, so after completing the application, she tried to pay for the visa along with Andrey. The payment was accepted for both of them on the first attempt without any issues.
While Masha and Andrey went to visit Masha's relatives, Vitya and I headed to the ATM as soon as we finished filling out the forms. We needed to deposit the required amount into Masha's bank card to pay for our visas.
After depositing the money onto the card, we went home. As we walked through the courtyard, we stumbled upon a group of ten-year-old kids. They were sitting on the ground in a circle, energetically playing with chips. I couldn't believe my eyes. The chips they were using were exactly the same as the ones I played with in my childhood.
Seeing our interested faces, they proudly showed off whose chips were cooler and who had more than the others. It felt like I was immersed in my childhood during those few minutes spent with them.