Matty's departure left a gaping hole in my life. Well not really, but i did miss the kid. Our Irish friend and roommate was still around and we kept one another company for a couple of days before 'our man' (Fergal, was his name) continued his worldwide cycle trip. Being alone in the dorm meant paying exorbitant fees in an already expensive town. As such i'd decided to do a couple of days hiking in the mountains surrounding Almaty which are pristinely beautiful gazing from the city. First thing to do was rent a backpack and find a secure place to stow the bicycle for safe keeping. One place remedied both of these and i was off to the mountains. The hitchhike there proved a little expensive and was ripped off by those damn Russians again... However, on starting, surrounded by hills and autumn coloured trees i felt truly blissful.
 
The first hiking day saw me end up on an alpine lake at about 2500m (Almaty is at 500m). Probably the most 'lovely' place i'd ever been. the next day, ignoring the warnings from other tourists, i set off for the border of Kyrgystan which was over the peak that i could see in the distance. the mornings hike was hard as i zigzaged my way up through a valley, from there had to make my way around two glaciers, around the peak i referred to above and then over the border. I had lunch on the kyrgystan side, but then returned the way id come in the afternoon as the weather forecast predicted bad weather for the following day. I camped at the lake once again before descending the valleys back to Almaty. And indeed the weather did get foul that afternoon. I managed to get back into town with enough time to pick up my passport from the Indian embassy.
 
There were still 4 more days to be spent in Almaty, a town that was growing more dangerous by the minute. On one night out, Fergal, walking home alone, witnessed a gang fight and brutal mugging. A few days later i'd been joined in my dorm by another couple of irishmen whom on wandering home at night, moments after me, got mugged at knife point of all their belongings. These, of course, go hand in hand with the bar beating we saw on our second night there. This is not to say that Kazakhstan and Almaty are all bad. Whom am i as i Saffa to judge anyway... We had been treated especially well by next to all the people we'd met, including, and surprisingly so, Botak, Borat's estranged father. The exceptions being the receptionists at our hotel whom i hear are currently training as gate keepers of hell itself, scary.
 
time came to leave not a moment too soon. Of bit of admin packing my bike into a box and being ridiculously overweight caused a couple of butterflies, but in the end all it took was a smile to young Kazakh vixen at the Etihad check in desk to not pay any fines. i think she was impressed by my 2 months of beard growth.