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At the Osh market, you can find everything that may be necessary for life: traditional and trendy clothes, food of all kinds such as dried fruits or spices, furniture, souvenirs, the essentials to constitute a dowry It is also the place where we buy the essential things for children so that they can go to school. The market is open every day except Monday. It opened on September 2, Furthermore it was built in the style of Ottoman architecture. The area of the covered part of the mosque is 7. Inside, the mosque can simultaneously pray up to 6 thousand people. Taking into account that in the courtyard of the mosque can still pray 20 thousand people. The art gallery was opened on January 1, The basis of the museum's collection was 72 works of Russian artists from the Tretyakov State Gallery, personally selected by the founder of the museum, the founder of Kyrgyz painting, S. To date, the museum's collection has about 18, works. The memorial is dedicated to the 40th anniversary of the victory of Soviet troops over the fascists. It was erected in on Victory Square. The memorial is externally an arch consisting of three curved arched lines. The central image of the composition is a woman mother who carefully holds the cup in her hands and looks into the distance, waiting for the return from the battlefield of her spouse and children. Uzgen is a large village on the main road between Jalal Abad and Osh. The modern city of Uzgen is located on the territory of ancient site. Ancient settlement of Uzgen is rich of monuments of settled and nomadic people, dated in a wide chronological range. It belongs to a zone of early contacts on the Silk Road, being the most eastern city centre of Davan, as the city of Ju-chen known on Chinese sources is traditionally localised here in a context of military expeditions of BC. Citadel and Shakhristans have been preserved relatively. Blocked in the Central Tien Shan, the town was built during soviet times. If the town has no charm, the landscape is just unbelievable. Red cliffs are surrounding the main city of the Naryn's Oblast. The Kyrgyz capital, Bishkek, is km north and Osh, the second largest city in Kyrgyzstan, km south. Located in west of the chain of the Tian Shan, the Toktogul valley has a long history. Its location along the river Naryn and surrounded by mountains allowed to easily defend against attacks and withstand natural disasters. With its abundant nature, the centuries BC, the valley was home on his land Scythian warrior tribes. Osh, the second largest city of the Kyrgyz republic, is one of the oldest settlements of Central Asia. It is located in southwestern Kyrgyzstan near the Uzbekistan border in the eastern section of the Fergana Valley. This one of the Central Asia's most interesting cities because of its long history, dating back as least to the 5th century BC - its position as an important crossroads for Silk Road trade and its huge market. For centuries it was a major silk-production center, strategically situated on a trade route to India. Kyzyl-Kiya is a city of the Oblast of Batken founded in by the armies of the tsar for the exploitation of coal, it takes the status of city in The name means 'Red Road' referring to the color of the mountains relatives. Its population is over 50, inhabitants. It is km from Batken and 86 km from Osh. The city has no particular attraction but is located at the entrance of a long valley called Isfayram which leads to the peaks of Petit Alay. Home Ski Bases Map Log in. Open sidebar. Osh market Read more about Osh market At the Osh market, you can find everything that may be necessary for life: traditional and trendy clothes, food of all kinds such as dried fruits or spices, furniture, souvenirs, the essentials to constitute a dowry The main section of the museum is the collection of Kyrgyz visual and decorative arts. Victory Monument Read more about Victory Monument The memorial is dedicated to the 40th anniversary of the victory of Soviet troops over the fascists. Osh Read more about Osh Osh, the second largest city of the Kyrgyz republic, is one of the oldest settlements of Central Asia. Kyzyl-Kiya Read more about Kyzyl-Kiya Kyzyl-Kiya is a city of the Oblast of Batken founded in by the armies of the tsar for the exploitation of coal, it takes the status of city in
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Approaching hour fourteen of the drive from Bishkek to Osh, the bickering began. Two mountain passes and a vast, snow covered plateau divide these the two main cities of Kyrgyzstan. With our fingers we wiped the dust from our eyes. They unveiled a new country in Osh. The weather is warm, the people more conservative. The city wears a blanket of calm. A hundred pounds of gear fills the room of our hostel. The warmth of the spring was deceptive; the mountain passes held onto their snowcaps. Our days were full. We visited a university where we shared our project with international students. We ironed out a few gear issues like finding kourpatchas, or padded car seats, to add to our saddles, and we visited the region. Unable to cross the border ourselves due to Covid restrictions, an international smuggling scheme took form to get our bicycles from the capital city of Tashkent to the border at Osh. A taxi from Tashkent drove our bicycles the 8 hours through the Uzbek countryside. There the boxes a middle-aged woman with a passport and a negative Covid test received them. In turn, she stood in line at the border for three hours before wheeling the boxes onto the Kyrgyz side and into our open arms. Paying her a passage fee and many thanks, we shoved the cartons into a van, and the yearlong separation finished. There is no place for our bicycles on our horse trek, we assembled the bikes with love, and pedalled around Osh with grand smiles painted across our faces. Word of mouth is the only way to find horse games. No man who spoke a bit of English was safe from Ashley quizzing him about the location of horse games that weekend. A nod. As the minutes ticked away, riders streamed down from all sides of the valley. Within an hour over horse and rider teams were galloping across the rocks to play Alaman Ulak, the national sport of Kyrgyzstan. If you've read ' Les Cavaliers ' by Kessel, you know this game by its Afghani name, 'buzkashi. Today a wolf isn't killed, but instead a sheep or goat slaughtered. Riders must capture the carcass and carry it on their horse to a designated spot. Observing, we fruitlessly tried to understand the rules but there are no teams, no boundaries, and no fouls. The game is brutal for both horse and rider. Anyone in the melee is subject to kicks, slaps of the whip, shoves, bites or tumbles. The sport is rough, and few horses left the playing field without bloody mouths. For all the repulsive qualities of this game, we saw riders taking pains to prepare their horses for the match. Homemade bell boots, tendon boots, and breastplates adorned the horses to protect them in the fray. Before and after playing, riders covered their horses with fleecy blankets to help them cool off and made sure to offer them water. It's not the type of riding sport we're used to. Nor one that we want to try. But the strength and speed of the horses and riders, and the grittiness of the game impressed us. To see a battalion of riders galloping across a floodplain is like watching living history. A witness to traditions almost unchanged over hundreds of years. Leaves burst out of buds on the trees in Osh; it was time for us to move on. Four hours bouncing in a packed taxi up the mountain road from Osh brought us to a bright and clean guest house, our base camp for the horse trek. Arslanbob village was a welcome breath of fresh air after six weeks spent in cities. Ashley began to list out our needs: a hot shower, a discreet family, a stable for the horses, wifi, when he interrupted. But if you must use the internet, you can make a hotspot with your phone. I think you will stay with Mashkhur and his family. Our quarters are separate from the rest of the family. Three strides from our window the river rumbles day and night. We felt at peace staying with this calm and harmonious family. Included in our board is dinner, and we ate our weight in plov. Fruit trees are bursting into bloom, but the walnut trees are holding onto their buds a little longer. The village is principally Uzbek ethnicity. It is Ramadan, the pace of village life here is especially relaxed. Agricultural fields and foothills around the village have become our stomping grounds. The bottom of the valley rests at m. A brief hike up into the foothills or the agricultural fields and one can pass m. There is still snow. The sun had yet to crest the horizon when we met Faysi, our guide, to visit a neighboring village bazaar. Faysi speaks robust English, and guides tourists in all types of sports: hiking, ski touring, camping and horse trekking. Fifty men mill about, examining the dozen sheep and goats for sale. There are no horses. After waiting a few minutes, Faysi shakes the hand of a man with a tanned and friendly face. Loading up into his car, we drive to the outskirts of the village. A handsome bay stallion stood tied, waiting for us to try. Displaying no confirmation flaws, in good weight, with a kind eye and nice gaits, we promised to think about it. Experience tells horse travelers never to buy the first horse you see. A week passed without finding the other two horses. Sometime it's best to try things the local way, though rising at am can only be jolting. Our beds were still warm when we loaded up into a rented truck heading for the Uzgen bazaar near the Uzbek border. One of the largest bazaars in the country, horses of all ages, shapes and colors paraded past, and we eyed them all. Confusion reigned. Instead, they swirl around the bazaar, walking, trotting, even galloping through the crowd. A potential buyer must grab the rider or horse wherever he can to get their attention. A lovely buckskin met our criteria, until the owner revealed that he was three-legged lame. A black horse around seven had a demure attitude. Quentin looked between his legs to check his confirmation. He discovered a fresh gash, open and dripping crimson blood. Before sitting on any horse, we had Faysi ask the seller to see beneath the saddle. Horse after horse had open and oozing sores on their backs. Their owners shrugged it off; if the horse keeps moving forward, what harm is a saddle sore? And if their backs were not wounded yet, that was because they were only three years old. Through the mayhem, Ashley spotted a little bay horse, skinny and calm. His soft eye perked up, and she approached, opening his lips to check his age. Five years old. He was so bony that you could have taught a course on the equine skeleton using him as a model. No saddle sores. With a flashy handshake, the little bay became ours, and we loaded him up into the truck. The fray reabsorbed us. Quentin spotted a chestnut stallion. His mouth splayed wide open while he danced away from the lashes of his rider. Ashley inspected the horse, noticing that the bit was too low, hitting his teeth. This accounted for the gaping mouth. The saddle sores on his back were more scars than sores; hair was growing back. He had a mischievous look, but was polite and fast undersaddle. Wads of cash handed over to the old owners, horses loaded in the trailer, our truck rumbled away from the bazaar. We are now the owners of three Kyrgyz stallions, our herd is complete.
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