A place of mystery off the beaten path in Central Asia turns out to be a puzzle indeed, reports Sara Keen.
There's nothing like a visit to an historic site that has mysterious origins as an added bonus. This was particularly true when my husband Ron and I, as part of a small adventure group, visited Tash Rabat in a remote spot in southern Kyrgyzstan.
Getting there was a bit of an adventure in it's own right. First we travelled about 60km northwest from Kashgar, in far western China, to the Chinese customs and immigration post.
Then, for the next 110km, we passed some stunning, coloured hills and snowy mountains on our way to Torguart Pass (3752m) - the actual border.
By the time we'd reached the pass we had shown our passports to Chinese officials six times at various check points along the way.
On the Kyrgyzstan side we were met by our guide, Titania, and driver, Igor, who both proved to be the best ever.
From the pass we passed hundreds of trucks waiting to cross into China. These truckies wouldn't have needed to be in hurry, as the wait could be as long as two days. The road here quickly deteriorated and our little bus bounced in and out of potholes and had to negotiate deep, muddy ruts, all under Igor's expert control. Soon we reached the Kyrgyzstan immigration post, which comprised a cold, dilapidated concrete building, housing a bored looking man who just stamped our passports. There was no sign of a customs declaration form nor any sign of anyone taking the slightest interest in our luggage still packed in the bus.
As we continued our slow descent, we were flanked by snowy mountains rising to 5000m on one side and, on the other, Lake Catyr-Kol. A puncture by this lake gave us a good opportunity to walk to the lake, as well as marvel at the stunning mountain range right beside us.
After a couple more passes, the mountains retreated into the distance when the broad grassy steppes of the Karasuu Valley took over.
The steppes were alive with sheep, goats, cattle, horses, donkeys, camels, yaks and zhos. The herders had only just come up from the lowlands with their animals, erected their yurt camps and settled in for summer.
Due to continuing poor road conditions, our travel through these wide open spaces was slow and it took nearly two hours to travel the 50 or so kilometres from the lake to a side road with a sign - ''Tash Rabat 16 km''.
After travelling 10km down this road we reached a tourist yurt camp on the edge of the Tien Shan Mountains. After we had been warmly greeted by our hosts, we were shown to our sleeping yurts.
We quickly sorted our beds and were soon in the dining yurt supping bowls of much-needed warming green tea, as at this altitude (3530m), it's none-too-warm outside.
Next day we were taken 6km further up the valley and there, tucked into the hillside was an amazing stone structure - Tash Rabat - the only stone building of its kind in the whole of Central Asia and no-one knows, for sure, what its purpose was.
Archaeological evidence points to it being built in the 10th century AD and it does have some hallmarks of a place for worship, though it is too poorly aligned east-west for that to be certain.
We ventured inside and assembled in a wide central room with a high domed centre. The whole structure is symmetrical with 20 domes and 11 vaults. Off to the side are numerous tiny, dank, dark rooms where people slept.
Apparently, there were once two dungeons but one has been filled in. The remaining dungeon can be viewed, looking through steel bars into gloomy spaces below.
There has been some reasonable restoration of the stone work but most of the internal decorations are now gone, and we could only just make out a few decorative lines high on the walls of the central room.
If this building wasn't for religious purposes, there are suggestions that it could have been a fort, although this is less likely due to its position. Anyone could easily get on to the roof from the hill behind.
We did.
Another suggestion is that it could have been a refuge for a persecuted group of people who wanted to hide from the rest of society.
What does seem to have a bit of credence is that, in the 15th century, it was used as a caravanserai - a resting place for people and their camels trading on the Silk Route across Asia.
It does beg the question though, as to why a trader, with a team of loaded camels, would go 16km off the main Silk Route and up a narrow valley, for a rest.
If, indeed, it was a caravanserai, then its use would have been relatively short-lived as, around the end of the 15th century, the use of the Silk Route declined when sea routes gained dominance as the favoured method of moving trade goods.
Speculation continues.
After a couple of hours at the site, it was time to leave as we had chosen to walk the 6km back to the camp and we didn't want to be late for lunch.
Apart from being a bit puffed at this altitude, we enjoyed the walk immensely as it gave us the opportunity to observe, close up, the herders at work. At one camp we walked over to watch a man shearing a sheep with dressmaking scissors.
In the afternoon, we were to go on a short climb into the mountains to see some petroglyphs but down came the rain, so we got to know our fellow travellers better, played with our hosts' puppy and kitten, and had a round or two of 500.
Dinner was lagman, a delicious Central Asian dish of lamb (or old mutton) in a stew of various vegetables, all spiced up with chilli and served over noodles topped with dill. We first had this dish in Kashgar and it was to follow us, in various forms, throughout Central Asia.
Next day, we said goodbye to our friendly hosts and reluctantly left this most interesting area. We were on our way to lower altitudes for lunch, and then up a serpentine road to another high yurt camp by a lake, but that's another story.
• Sara Keen is a Lake Hawea writer and traveller.
