Ala-Köl means the motley lake, and it earns the name hour by hour. It lies behind a wall of moraine at 3,532 metres in the Terskey Ala-Too of eastern Kyrgyzstan, south of Karakol. Through a single day it goes from green-blue to grey and some days to a faint pink, as the light and weather move over it. The first outsider on record to reach it, a Russian traveller named Putimtsoff in 1811, already wrote about the violent winds and the strangely coloured stones in the water. No stream runs out of it, either. The moraine dam that holds the lake lets the water drain away underneath instead, seeping through the rubble to feed the Karakol river far below.
The lake is the centrepiece of the most-walked trek in Kyrgyzstan, and it takes you two or three days out of Karakol. The lower trail climbs through spruce and fir, crossing icy meltwater streams on logs: the green, sheltered half of it. Above the treeline the ground turns to boulders, and the last kilometres are a steep haul over loose rock to a lip of moraine, and you come over it into the basin, ringed by snow-streaked peaks. You pitch a four-season tent on the bare shore and spend a night above 3,500 metres, where it freezes even in July, and wake to the water changing again as the light climbs the peaks. The way on is the Ala-Köl Pass at nearly 3,900 metres, a lung-burning push, and from the notch the lake lies behind you while a new valley falls away in front. That valley is Altyn Arashan, green and open, with rustic camps around hot springs where the trek ends in warm mineral water. Travellers sometimes book the wrong lake: Kazakhstan has a namesake next door, Alakol, a lowland salt lake roughly 1,750 times the size. Nobody has ever sounded the one up here.