Reviews • 1
We left Urumqi eastward-bound and jumped off the bus at Sayram Lake. After talking for a while to Marat, a 30-year-old Kazakh, we followed him home to his family’s yurt. Decorated in the colorful rainbow of hand-embroidered tapestries, the yurt’s usual little wood stove was missing so we had to literally bury ourselves in the warm quilts until the morning sun warmed the landscape. It was an experience to cook over the fire outside and, learn how to make their yummy wheat noodles, teach Marat his numbers in English, play with the baby and watch the steady stream of nomads, sheep, horses, and camels parade by the yurt.