It was maybe half an hour till dawn when I woke up. Zamir, our driver, was leaning against the window smoking a cigarette. Tim [Hill] sat on the front seat loading a roll of film into a camera. The dull hue of daybreak hung in the sky. I knocked on the cold glass, opened the door and considered our surroundings. As far as I could see, snow-covered peaks zig-zagged their way across the horizon. The sun rose quickly; “It’s going to be hot,” said Zamir. 

Kyrgyzstan sits in the heart of central Asia. It is one of the least-talked-about countries in the world but what it lacks in notoriety, it makes up for in geography: a quasi-crossroads between Russia, China, Europe and Afghanistan, which since the days of Marco Polo has had vital geopolitical significance. To follow in his footsteps is a wonderful thing; in a country where transportation has been the lifeblood of the economy for more than 2,000 years, it seems fitting to load the car up and get out onto the road.  

A Soviet road marker

Hill and Aubrey

Kyrgyz tourists in the Arslanbob walnut forest

Hill and Aubrey