1 minute read

E N L Y KYRGYZSTAN

PREVIOUS SPREAD: Sary-Chelek nature reserve.

ABOVE: Kyrgyz horses are adept at crossing waist-high waters in Sary-Chelek nature reserve.

In spite of his laboured breath and sweatshimmered haunches, my sturdy grey stallion has an implacable urge to reach the summit. Up, up and up we climb. The view from halfway up the Kotorma Pass is precipitous and the ground is slippery after a night of rain but I’m trying not to think about that. I’m trying to match his efforts – or at least make it a little easier. He’s reassuringly foot sure – far more so than my uncertain steps during a dismount on a particularly vertiginous section of the ascent. Hungry for assurance, my eyes select the easiest course, picking out a path to avoid loose scree and giant boulders. All the while a growing bond and visceral sense of trust and gratitude are building between me, a slightly timorous horsewoman, and this great, striving pony. As I plot the course, every tread is felt in earnest – the subtle tension across my three middle fingers, holding the malleable reins that have frayed with age, communicating right or left. There is little room for error.

I had met Alexandra Tolstoy, who leads these trips, at a fundraising event; hearing her talk about Kyrgyzstan piqued my curiosity and sense of adventure. A country I couldn’t place on the map, let alone spell, which was beloved by Alexandra for its extraordinary geographic diversity, cultural richness and gentle people. She spoke of a hidden Switzerland she’d discovered while riding the Silk Route after university – cerulean lakes and virgin landscapes that had never been ploughed, strewn with wild iris and legions of giant purple