traveling day eleven - in which we shop, bathe and make sausages

This morning we shopped in the local bazaar.  I really love shopping like this - I drag my feet about shopping at the supermarket fortnightly at home, but I love poking around in the bazaar and finding what is fresh.  We found some very random things, and some lovely fruit and veges.  I also had my first fresh lapoishka of the trip - fresh hot round bread cooked inside a metal drum.  There is really nothing like it.  I pretty much ate the whole loaf in one breath.  I also bought some very random souvenirs for my family (shhh don't tell them).

traditional bazaar street noodle soup for lunch.  mmmmmmm.

Fresh Lapoishka.  Nothing like it.  In The World.

In the afternoon we decided to 'take the waters' of Karakol, and headed into the hills to the hot springs.  It was a lovely drive with an unknown destination - our hosts had not done this before either.  We eventually found a bathhouse, but only for women.  So for 50c each we had a lovely warm bath in the mineral spring water.  Without clothes.  But I am now convinced my knees feel better (they are still a bit sore from skiing).  We read the instructions for how the baths were used in Soviet times.  Apparently you take a 15 min bath at 47 degrees, then do some gymnastics, then have a massage, then have some ultrasound on your joints, then sunbathe.  Then repeat this program 12-14 times for your treatment while eating no fat or salt.  It sounds quite reasonable, especially the warm bath and massage part.

Four baths for four ladies.

Snow in the valley near the hot springs

And to finish off the day we made the meat that we had bought in the morning at the meat market in the bazaar into sausages using a hand grinder.  I ground all the meat, and suffered a lot of nicknames including 'Grinder Girl', 'Mincing Wench' and 'Crusher Pine'.  I am really looking forward to eating the sausages tomorrow.

Tomorrow we are going to the animal bazaar in the morning.  I am terrible at auctions, and I am hoping my body language is sufficiently neutral and I don't accidentally come home with a baby donkey.

As much as I would love a baby donkey.  I would call it Alfred and rub it's little nose.

Onwards.