All calm in Kyrgyzstan

In the mountains of Kyrgyzstan the snows have briefly retreated and nomad families are driving their flocks of sheep and yaks up the age-old route to the sweet alpine meadows.

Meanwhile, in the capital of Bishkek, Vladimir Ilyich Lenin is addressing the Kyrgyz Parliament and, after the turmoil of the country's fourth revolution in 100 years, the land is once again at peace.

Well, that's what I wrote while I was in Bishkek in June when everything did seem peaceful.

So peaceful, in fact, that the most interesting sight was Lenin's statue, moved out of the city's main square to make way for a statue of freedom, only to be re-erected in front of the White House, where Parliament meets, arms outstretched as though addressing the current crop of politicians.

"Interesting demotion," commented one of the Australians in our group.

"From outside the museum to outside Parliament."

Appropriate, too, I thought, because Bishkek still has the look and feel of a Soviet city and, by all accounts, its politicians still take the Leninist approach to politics.

But, in spite of Lenin's oratory, Parliament was quiet, the presidential palace, which was supposed to have been torched in recent riots, looked undamaged, and Ala-Too Square, a few weeks previously the focus of protests which toppled the president, was deserted.

There was little sign of the upheaval that had kept my visit to Kyrgyzstan in doubt until the last minute.

But since then there have been ugly ethnic clashes between Kyrgyz and Uzbeks and even talk of the Russian army moving in to keep the peace.

It's an unfortunate way for the world to be reminded of the existence of a fascinating country.

I went there as part of a pilgrimage along the Silk Road, which took me across China from the ancient capital of Xian to the border city of Kashgar, over the Tian Shan mountains via the Torugart Pass to Kyrgyzstan, and on to Uzbekistan and the fabled cities of Bukhara, Khiva and Samarkand.

Kyrgyzstan is not a place I had ever thought of visiting but, despite its turbulent recent history, it is a beautiful land of vast open spaces where nomads still graze their flocks, rugged mountains that explode with wildflowers in the short summer, a colourful culture and friendly people.

Like most of the peoples of central Asia, the Kyrgyz have always been nomads, their lives governed by the seasons and the need to find pasture for their flocks, ending up roughly in the region which is now Kyrgyzstan after being pushed hither and thither by more powerful Turks, Mongols, Manchus and Russians.

They never really had a country until 1919, when revolution No 1 brought them under the umbrella of Soviet Russia, ultimately leading to the creation of a Kyrgyz Soviet Socialist Republic.