Report 5. or 6. Post-Expedition Dip already in Karakol

I was doing the last interviews with the girls—the moment on each journey when I try to cover what we might have missed on the way. The backdrop was the red wall above Jeti-Ögüz, the Seven Bulls, burning in the sun. Dana was already in that post-expedition dip, even though we still had a week left in Kyrgyzstan.

It isn’t that Sweden is bad; the fit is different. Out here the days are simple: we move, sort problems, eat, sleep. Clear goals, instant feedback, real teamwork. At home the signal gets noisy—lots of small “musts,” constant little judgments, less room to steer your own day. On an expedition you decide, you act, you see the result; school and club football run on other people’s timetables and scoreboards. Back home the invisible scoreboards come out—grades, selections, socials, who trains more—and even in a land of lagom it tilts you toward perfection without sticking out. Attention gets shredded: a hundred small tasks instead of one mission. And the body feels it—less sun and wind, more screens and indoors, darker months closing in. After a block of high purpose there’s a dip; the chemistry flattens for a while. It passes if you get back to basics: sleep, training, purpose, a new goal, and as much time outdoors as possible.

Right now we’re back in busy Bishkek. It took us eight bumpy hours from Karakol to get here because of roadworks, and you see the challenges Kyrgyzstan is facing. Much of the road between the fourth-largest city and the capital was under construction. The population is young and growing fast. Unemployment bites. Many work abroad, especially in Russia. There are familiar post-Soviet traces—Khrushchyovkas from the ’50s–’60s with tiny kitchens and no lifts, and even a few Lenin statues—but the young are pushing life forward. They’re tech-savvy; some have studied or worked abroad, like Alina; and many look more toward Europe than Russia or China.

We’ve loved every minute here. The nature is world-class. It’s an easy country to travel in. I still feel a bit like one of the first visitors. People are laid-back, doing their own thing, quiet and serious. The food is good. You can find almost anything you need for expeditions—maybe not the same quality, but it does the job. The internet works. And away from Issyk-Kul’s peak weeks there are still relatively few tourists. A perfect destination for a modern traveller.

We’re worn out by the impressions and the work—and by the thought of going home to the musts. But it is what it is.