The roasted aromas of the coffee maker on the corner table of the dining room did little to mask the odour of bleach and stale beer as it emptied its load upon the table. A muddy puddle of Nescafé seeping through the cracks of the pristine white plastic table cloth.
Back in Bishkek. The fellowship depart. Neil and Anne-Marie back to Manchester, Louise our quirky little Canadian back to Montreal, Kevin to Gatwick and Martin to Heathrow. All departing at 1.30. Some I will miss... beers shared mountains climbed, hardships endured.
Will I see them again? Emails exchanged on scrap bits of paper... The human condition of interaction and shared interests a single beacon of continued hope???
Let's go for maybe.... A good start at least.
Smiley people saunter past, all Kyrgyz but some Russian, some Mongolian descent, some a mix. What does it mean to be Kyrgyz? A sedate pace? Crazy driving? Bountiful amounts of green tea? How does this nation survive? Soviet financial support is gone, statures of former soviet glory crumbling and no real drawer for tourism. The Russians long for re acceptance from the mother land but the Kyrgyz relish the freedom of religion and a return to their routes.
Will it descend back into its former nomadic routes or somehow embrace capitalism?

Update!!!!
Not all so calm, just been hurriedly ushered past a governmental building rapidly being cordoned off as sniffer dogs enter due to a bomb threat! Oh well better head for coffee since heart is now racing! Here we come Sierra coffee!