Haven't Got A Clue

It took three minibuses to get to Arslanbob, but that was the easy bit. A town on the side of the ascending mountainside, Arslanbob was a growing tourist destination. Its stunning landscape and huge walnut forest were a key drawcard. And the walnut harvest season peaked at the start of October, when I was there. It was said you could find groups of local women scavenging for walnuts for kilometres amongst the autumnal leaves.

But the excitement of the walnut forest would have to wait. Three minibuses (and an initial minibus to the bus station in Osh) was not enough to get me to my guesthouse. At four in the afternoon, after a day of travelling, I faced the hill that I needed to climb to get to the guest house.

It wasn't such a huge hill. It's just I hadn't come mentally prepared for it. An ascent of two hundred metres - from 1500m to 1700m - over a distance of a kilometre and a half. On paper it wasn't that bad. But with my backpack and an acute sense of exhaustion from the day's travelling I was less enthused about this option.

So I decided to put on my Clueless Traveller Face. This is an important face to have in the repertoire of the clueless traveller. You make it by squeezing your face towards the centre and then raising an eyebrow or two. If a map is present, looking up and down at it every so often is also a good idea. Even better, if you have a watch on your wrist, you can look down at it frustratedly. Although looking at your watch should only be done sparingly as doing it too often can make you look like you're just surprised by the concept of time.

With my Clueless Traveller Face on, it didn't take long for someone to offer their assistance. A man asked, in clear English, if I needed some help. He was a local tour guide and was happy to help me get where I was going. I explained the situation and asked if there was anyone who could give me a lift up the hill. I didn't think this was such a big ask. In Uzbekistan, people would chat all the time and were so open to providing assistance to the clueless traveller.

But this wasn't Uzbekistan. There were some men willing to take me up the hill for three hundred som - the amount I'd already paid for three buses that day - for a five minute journey. It sounded like they were trying to rip me off so I thought maybe I'd need to bargain. But, no, that was the price and they were just as happy to not take me.

So, with no other option, I decided to walk. It wouldn't be such a huge walk but I expected I would be picked up on the way. That may sound presumptions but after spending time in Uzbekistan, particularly the Fergana Valley, I had gotten used to a culture that helped the clueless traveller. Not the case. Despite the many cars, donkeys and cows ascending the single road up the hill, no one stopped to help the now-sweaty, clueless traveller with the oversized backpack. I was a little surprised.

And the same was true throughout my stay in Arslanbob. The family I stayed with didn't speak English and the house didn't have any internet connection. So communication was difficult. However, I'd been to places before where we didn't speak the same language. It could usually be overcome with mutual warmth and an overuse of hand gestures. Whilst the family was kind and hospitable, they weren't particularly warm. They were very traditional and conservative. The women of the family served me breakfast and dinner as I sat alone overlooking the mountainside. Other family members generally kept their distance despite my attempts to interact.

For clueless travellers it's important to remember that you are passing through other people's daily lives. In a small, traditional town like Arslanbob, people are happy keeping to themselves, living their lives as they have for generations. Milking the cows in the morning. Sweeping the leaves off the porch every afternoon. Collecting vegetables from the market. Preparing dinner the way their mother taught them. Clueless travellers have come and gone since the days of the Silk Road and are still treated with tea and hospitality.