Day 30 - Kazakhstan

So the second leg of the trip comes to a close and I'm off to more obviously touristy parts of the world. China, Burma and Vietnam. The Silk Road will shortly be behind me. I won't do a postmortem now but it's been quite something. Not all that many people follow this road. Fewer from West to East and fewer still at this time of the year. I've met a short handful of people doing a similar thing and no one doing the West/East route at the same time. That makes it even more special for me. It's a bit intrepid. It's verging on the hardcore. It's a bit 'deep end' for someone open minded but in matter of fact, inexperienced. 

All in can really say is that I've learned a hell of a lot and it's been wonderful from start to finish. I'm much more seasoned now and have developed something of a thousand yard stare off the back of it. I'm much better prepared for what comes next. There'll be trips, slips and ripoffs aplenty but I'll be ready for them now. 

Almaty has been a nice place to finish off. It's contrasted and complimented the rest of my trip very well all told. Did I mention that it has been cold? 

Icy Xmas decorations outside the bar last night

Almaty in the morning. I rather liked it!

Day 29 - Kazakhstan

My Russian is improving. Or is it my kazakhstani? I'm no longer sure what language I'm speaking. It's a bit different everywhere I go. In any event, I'm now able to order a beer AND ask where the toiletna is. Which at the moment is proving essential in at least one case (I won't go into the details). 

Had a long walk around the bits that had eluded me so far. I won't bore you with the tiniest details of the Sunday market etc. but it's a pretty normal thriving city and I guess on that basis somewhat different in feel to the rest of the 'Stans' (the bits that I've been to anyway). It also has an evening culture that has been noticeably absent from almost all other places I've been. I've found the odd bar here or there and some restaurants dotted around but broadly, Central Asia is light on nighttime fun in my experience. In fairness, it probably helps to know where to look - which I haven't. Almaty has a definite ,'Russian' feel about it rather that Central Asian. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing of course. Anyway, Almaty has a hatful of bars, clubs, restaurants etc.

Speaking of hats... Shortly after I arrived I bought a hat. A big hat. A big furry hat. 

East unexpectedly and unconventionally, meets West

Day 28 - Kazakhstan

Ok, first things first.

Travellers Tip - I have been trying to use Google maps offline to get around. My iPhone is so old it can't really handle it. My iPhone is also too old for this next one too but the iPad  does pretty well with it and I'd quite literally be lost without it. Citymaps2go. Offline maps with your smart device gps is really really helpful. Got the tip from a fellow traveller and I'm really grateful to him. It's been very helpful. Tbh, I wasn't even aware of offline smart maps until I started the journey but have switched onto them pretty quickly. Anyway, that's the science bit. 

Had a very slow walk around today. Very nice. Went to another bazaar and again, most impressive! 

Almaty has a sizeable ex-pat community it seems. Or maybe I just met them all in the pub last night. Another town with big oil connections but nothing like Baku which lived and breathed it. This city is a city, not a production plant with some houses on it. 

Watched England v wallabies on the box tonight which was a lovely reminder of home. 

Other than that, nothing to report today. Bout time I sat back and relaxed a bit. 

Finally! Something worth photographing! Although what a naval piece is doing in the middle of Asia is anyone's guess. 

Day 27 - Kazakhstan

Ok, let's not beat about the bush. I'm in no way geared up for this kind of weather. It's WELL into minus temps in Almaty. Someone in the bar said -10 but I don't know if that's true. I've basically got on everything I own that is reasonably clean to go out in. The streets are covered in snow and ice and I'm slipping around like a puppy on highly polished Lino.

That said, Almaty seems like a very reasonable place. It looks clean, well to do, with a bunch of parks and stuff within an easy walk. It helps that I've spoiled myself with a nice hotel probably. That is, an actual hotel. Not a hostel, or a hostel calling itself a hotel, a real life hotel with everything that a hotel should have, including concierge, proper restaurant, illuminated sign over the door, the lot. I'm cheating aren't I? Well bollocks to it. It's my holiday, not yours. 

Went to Ye Olde Shakespeare Pub last night for my first beer in a good few days and they had The Scorpions playing in the background - just for me I'd like to think. And then they put James Blunt on. I hope that wasn't for me too. If it was they got that badly wrong. And yes, going there WAS cheating. I concede that one. I was having a clean shaven, clean body, clean clothes, night off. 

The overnight from Shimkent to Alamty was not the luxury train ride to which I've become accustomed. I couldn't get a carriage to myself. Far from it in fact. It was a bit of a bazaar in there. Families, food, booze and a very firm perch for me that was about bum width and approximately 3 inches shorter than I am tall. I didn't in all honesty get much sleep but that which did come, interrupted the sleep of those around me judging by the tired glares when the lights went on in the morning. ...I wasn't the only one snoring I can assure you. And I'm recovering from a cold. It's allowed.

I'm getting good at churches etc. now. This one is of Ascention Cathedral for those keeping tabs. 

You know, I never imagined the feeling of a fluffy cotton towel around ones sensitives could provoke such emotion in a grown man. 

Day 26 - Kazakhstan

I originally planned to loop down into Kyrgyzstan and back up to Almaty over a couple of days but the delayed ship over the Caspian has put me a little behind schedule. I've also been going from place to place without really staying anywhere for long enough to draw breath. In the end, the place I was staying in Tashkent didn't grab me as it might have done. As a result I've decided to take a shortcut straight into Kazakhstan and missing out Kyrgyzstan. That will give a me a good three days in Almaty and a chance to call somewhere home for a while, do some domestics and relax a bit. I've also resolved to find a reasonable hotel to do it in. Anyway, the plan was after all, only a plan. To quote J.R.R. Tolkien, 'Not all those who wander are lost'. It's seems an appropriate sentiment for the circumstances. So I headed off from Tashkent first thing, for a day and night of travel to Almaty.

I'll be honest, the novelty of exotic border crossings has long since worn off. You have to allow a day really to get from the place you are, to the border, cross and get to the place you want to be. Another reason for cutting the corner a bit. And sure enough, a large part of the day has been spent just getting to the town where I know I can catch a train to Almaty, Shimkent. I'll describe some of the key points;

(By the way, I'd rather not get comments about how much I've been overcharged along the way. I've been happy to pay for the privilege of not spending ten minutes haggling over the odd Dollar). 

Get a taxi from Tashkent to Chernayevka which cost 30,000 Som and about half an hour. 

Walk through the gauntlet of hawkers, beggars and assorted characters of dubious employment to the Uzbek customs hall some way up the road. 

Enter customs hall and join the circus that is 'Uzbekistan Customs Declaration Form' filling in - if you can get to the counters provided. Which I couldn't until I forced passage. 

Discover that the forms are in Uzbek and go and ask for and English version. 

Surprisingly, they had one and duly filled in and joined the customs declaration scrum. After waiting patiently for ages a while people slink, worm and barge past, decide I'm going to have to be completely un-British, abandon queuing and eventually reach the front, apologising for my behaviour as I progress. 

Get the usual sigh and dagger eyes from the customs guy as I put my UK passport on the desk and after lots of huffing and puffing get let through (no check on accommodation stamps or currency - too busy and can't be bothered). 

Join the next queue for passport control. Same scrum, same delays, same sigh and daggers. 

Go through to Kazakhstan border control and repeat the exact same process. Same sighs, same daggers.

Enter into Kazakhstan and get mobbed by taxi drivers, money changers, beggars, etc. etc. I'm pretty much the only show worth watching in town it seems, although this is a vey busy crossing with plenty of local traffic passing through. 

Get ripped off by a sweet old lady for my Uzbek Som (..I really did actually)

Choose a shared taxi for 2000 Tengi - about $11 I think but that might be a bit off, bound for Shimkent.  

The death ride should have taken 75mins but the taxi breaks down about 15mins in. Bonnet raised, fiddle, blow, curse, close bonnet, coughs into life. Slow kangaroo hops until the reluctant beast of burden decides to clear it's throat and then a 130kmph hack along sleaty roads to Shimkent. 

Extra fare required for drop off at station - of course - buy ticket for overnight train to Almaty. 4000 Tengi. 

So you see, there are a lot of elements to get right, or wrong perhaps and it's takes a dogs age for the whole thing to come together. I'm glad this is the last land border I'll have to do (I think?). 

There's not an awful lot to say about Shimkent. It's not on the tourist map really and I was only there for the train station. 

I did forget to mention my comedy slip yesterday. The ice caught me out and I went down on my arse into a muddy puddle. I only mention it now because, a) I only have one pair of trousers and it's a bit embarrassing to wander around in brown trousers b) I obviously clattered my left shoulder on the way down and it's agony carrying the pack today. Hey ho. All part of the process. 

Shimkent donning its winter coat. Told you it isn't much to write home about...

Day 25 - Uzbekistan

Had a much more interesting day today after a having had a couple of nothingy days. Had a long long walk around Tashkent and found that it has a bit about it (just not anywhere near where I'm staying). I have to say that it's quite chilly. There was quite a bit of ice about so the temps must be well below what I was hoping for, especially given my lack of cold weather gear.

I walked to the Hast Imom mosque complex which appears to be a sort of Arndale Centre for Muslims.  I was left unclear exactly what each of the buildings were for but it looked very religious. Impressive as an ensemble but Samarkand and Bukhara both have such standout places of worship, this couldn't ever really compete as a spectacle (although I'm sure it is no less important functionally). 

Went to the Grand Bazaar and had a very enjoyable hour or two wandering around. Now that IS spectacular - as these things tend to be. There's not much you can't find in that place. Every animal and every bit of every animal seemed to be well represented as far as I could tell. 

Travellers Fact - Uzbek's love Wotsits

Plov-U-Like

Day 24 - Uzbekistan

Went for a bite to eat yesterday evening. I'm not sure it was the best place in town but I had two 'cow kebabs' with some salad and it was pretty good all in all. The salad turned out to be some pickled gherkins and some picked tomatoes. Yes, picked tomatoes. VERY interesting. Not had that before. Interesting but not entirely my cup of chai. I sampled and decided to send back to the pantry for somebody else to enjoy. It was a reminder that November isn't the time for salad, so pickled salad is all that's on offer. Fair enough. One tends to forget about the seasons in the UK these days. I also got talked into having a very large Uzbek vodka which had the effect of cutting the evening very short! The finger bowl in the shot below is the vodka. There was quite a lot of it.

Caught the midday train to Tashkent. Cost 37,000 Som which sounded pretty steep but I discovered that I'd booked a VIP ticket which explained things. Here's a shot of the VIP lounge at Samarkand station.

Here's the money shot of Samarkand itself. I wasn't in Samarkand long enough to get a real feel for the place but wanted to get to Tashkent ASAP so I can spend a bit more time in one place for a change. 

Got a bit lost in Tashkent when trying to find my hostel. When I finally arrived I discovered there's not a great deal around in this part of town. So had to make do with a dinner of bread, Dairylea, a packet of crisps and a Snickers for pud. 

Travellers Tip - When arriving in a new and strange city, it's probably not a good idea to watch three episodes of, 'The Walking Dead' back to back. Gave me the hebe-jeebies. 

Day 23 - Uzbekistan

So back to more mundane matters and a few words on yesterday before getting onto today.

Yesterday was mostly strolling around Bukhara, which, was rather good actually! Very very ornate and well kept Muslim architecture plus a great big fat fort called, 'The Ark' from the.....9th century was it? Anyway, old. Visited a fairly grim prison which had an interesting history and gruesome connection to Britain. They lopped off some of our chaps heads after an unpleasant incarceration. You know, back in the glory days when we thought we owned the place. 

Lunch was excellent. My first taste of Plov. Aside from the unfortunate name, this slow cooked risotto like dry stew was exceptionally tasty and is to be highly recommended. In fact, I might try and cook it when I get home it was so good. 

Anyway, Bukhara has been yet another little gem outside of ones usual sphere of knowledge. Stayed in a B&B after being picked up off the street upon arrival by the owner (that bit is carefully phrased to further worry anxious parents by the way). It served a rather good with a breakfast of many courses. Quick review below

B&B Sarrafan

Rooms - 3 Plovs

very clean and comfortable. Towels were a little....little. Bed was ok but a bit of a squeeze for a big unit like me.

Host - 5 Plovs

English speaking and couldn't really have done more to help to be honest. Very friendly with it too. 

Facilities - 4 Plovs

Free wi-fi and a large, pleasant courtyard area. Pub on doorstep. 

Price - 4 Plovs

$20 per night. Seemed like good value for around here.

Overall - 4 Plovs

I'd recommend it. 

Left sometime after breakfast after a two night stay, heading for Samarkand. There are trains but only two per day, one early and one late and I didn't fancy either. So my laziness meant I'd have to find a different way to Samarkand. In the end this meant a mini-bus to a cab rank for an anticipated shared taxi ride but I got bundled out the mini-bus and onto a coach in about 2 minutes flat. Worked out fine as it happens. 25,000 Som plus another 8,000 for a taxi at the other end to the Registan part of Samarkand. Found a B&B after a few minutes and booked in. So another step along the way without too much drama. 

One has to get ones visa stamped every night in Uzbekistan. Not good news to forget that apparently, so registration takes a while but has so far been accompanied by free tea and cake. So it's not all bad. 

The Samarkand B&B, Bahodir, is $15 per night and the cheaper price is reflected in the accommodation on offer - but it seems ok. Samarkand is a bit more mental than Bukhara. Bigger and  busier. Will put a pic or two up tomorrow.

Sorry, no crazy massage stories to share today. Just a bit of time sightseeing and on the road. 

Breakfast in Safarran

Bukhara 

Plov

Day 22 - Uzbekistan

Ok, well I suppose I'd better tell you what else happened yesterday. I was going to include it in 'Day 21' but felt I needed some reflection time.

Sooooooo. I went to a c.16th Hammam in the middle of Bukhara. I didn't know exactly what to expect and some of you might not know either so I'll give you a brief run-down. 

Enter and pay the nice man 80,000 Som. Strip down to your birthday suit and put a towel around your bits. Enter what can only be described as an oversized bread oven and stand there for fifteen minutes while the heat takes your breath and all the moisture in your body away. It's a real pore opener. Once brown and crusty (no soggy bottom on this dude), remove from oven and leave to cool on a big marble slab. Enter stage right, a young chap with nothing on but a towel similar to ones own. He has spent my baking time lathering up and appears extremely well lubricated. 

Ok. Now for the fun part. Lay stomach down on the slab while matey all but removes my flimsy towel and begins exploring areas that hitherto only my GP dared go. And he was neither shy nor gentle about it too. Aside from well greased hands in some rather unexpected places, part of the exercise included him standing on my back and jumping up and down a bit, but it was mostly bending and kneading and trying to insert elbows between vertebrae. After seemingly several days of physical abuse, he turned me over and started on my front. Very nearly all of my front. There was more but in short, it ended up being being a massive soapy wrestling match which, I am sorry to report, he won rather convincingly.

After this came the ginger scrub (I'm not making this up by the way). He gave me a liberal coating of the ginger mush over most parts and then insisted I fully remove the towel (it wasn't covering anything by this point anyway). He indicated that I should finish the job off myself - applying scrub that is - and sit in another hot chamber for ages before pouring several buckets of cold water over me. In the end, he saw I wasn't going to submit, whatever punishment he threw at me, so he gave up and handed me a towel and told me to get dressed.

I fought him like a tiger for an hour but parted like he was my bother. Or maybe husband. I'm still not really sure how it all ended up legally. Still, we promised to write and I took my leave after a simple shake of the hand. It all seemed like an oddly platonic ending to an uncomfortably personal massage. 

All in all, I felt utterly violated by the experience yet strangely smooth and refreshed at the same time. It was, at the end of the day, an experience. 

Travellers Tip - If a mostly naked and highly slippery Uzbek tells you to apply ginger scrub to your gentlemans area, DO NOT include ones Jacobs Cream Crackers, no matter how much encouragement he gives you. Ginger has some heat to it I can tell you. It got so hot down there it was as if a candle had been lit and suspended between my thighs. I began hopping and squatting and flapping to get some cool air circulating and my were eyes watering but being British, I had to stop, stand upright, striking as casual a pose as possible and agree that everything was perfectly fine when he came back to see how I was doing. 

Everything else that happened today pales by comparison to be honest.

My camera couldn't take the steam so I had to take photos of photos, but it's a fair representation of what took place.

Day 21 - Uzbekistan

Turkmenistan, in case my enthusiasm hasn't already come through, was excellent. Plenty to see, friendly country and well looked after by the good people at Owadan Tourism. There are more policemen that you can shake a stick at and the only other jobs going are army, border guards, secret police and street cleaning for the ladies as far as I could tell. They seem to be a pretty cheerful lot though. I did ask my guide about politics at one point but he was clearly reluctant to give anything away. Fair enough. If he doesn't like it there then he could leave. Well maybe he can't actually. Anyway, it's none of my business either way. 

Ok, today has been a day that I've been dreading a bit. We're back to Gerald and I surviving on our own again but this time, my research notes have run a bit thin. I couldn't find much about the border crossing excepting that it can be a bit of a mare. I did know that once across the border one has to make ones way to Bukhara, a town 100km into Uzbekistan for a place to stay.

I've also been out of touch with the outside world for five days and I've been looking forward to letting folks back home know I'm still alive. 

I really can't be bothered to talk too much about the border crossing. It was the now usual pain the backside of paperwork and customs declarations, all in foreign tongue, that took me several times longer to complete than anyone else - given I don't know what the bloody form was asking for. Anyway, I got it all sorted and got out the other side. The promised taxi rank didn't exist, or there were no taxis at least, nor for that matter did the bus or mini-bus to Bukhara. All there was, was three guys in a beat up old Nissan grinning and asking if I wanted to go to Bukhara with them for ten dollars. Given my available options, I shrugged and hopped in. 

So this was my second sweaty moment of the holiday. They could have been going anywhere with any intention. I started to get a bit anxious and made every effort to hold a conversation, smile a lot and at the same time stay alert. I cursed myself for asking to sit in the front seat - with two strange Uzbeks sat behind me. Doh!!! Should have been in the back behind the driver where I could see what everyone was up to and execute a suicide crash if things got desperate.  

Anyway, it was all fine in the end. The place I wanted to go was, of course, the other side of town so the fare changed (that happens a lot in Central Asia). So I gave them fifteen dollars and still thought I'd got a bargain. It was 100km after all. 

Found a local bar in the evening. Simply called, 'The Pub' with the tag line ,'it's mostly cheaper than you think'. It was too good to pass up. 

Changed sixty dollars into Som. This is what I got. I think he said it was 192,000. I reckon I could insulate my loft with the stuff if I changed a couple of hundred bucks.

Day 20 - Turkmenistan

So my hotel in Mary wasn't too bad really. I was a bit worried that I was being a bit prissy early on as I'd encountered a couple of horrors by way of hotels. This one has got all the basics right, bed, hot shower, loo, that's about it but that's all that is required isn't it? It's a little tired looking, a bit grubby but it's fine. I'd be happy with this sort of thing throughout if I could get it. Maybe when I get to a few more hostels, my snobbery will start showing through again.

Went to a local cafe last night and had a proper proper chicken kebab last night. Basically a chicken chopped up into six bits and shoved on a stick. Had to order it in my best Turkmen - which was basically English with a bit of nodding and smiling. It came with bread and some kind of garlicky hot sauce. I honestly didnt know what I was doing, but what I apparently ordered tasted great anyway. It all started to feel rather authentic for me to be honest. It cost 7 Manat, which is something like £1.80.

Today included a trip to Merv. Merv was the centre of Parthian power. I think. I haven't got the internet to check that but my driver said so. I think. Someone will correct me if I'm wrong I'm sure. 

While building an empire out of mud might be cost efficient, it does come with some long term maintenance issues. Very interesting place to wander around though. 

Part of the site included a mausoleum for a Sultan whose name I forget, from a later period. Anyway, I barged in on a crowd of local ladies who were praying. As soon as I stumbled in, they immediately upped and left. I suspect I made some kind of dreadful gender segregation faux pas but no one said anything. So I snapped away. No offence intended.

Finished the day in Turkmenabat. Have camped down in a very smart hotel before making a break for the Uzbekistan border in the morning. Standard phrase of the week has been,'Anglia, da. Nyeto par Ruskie.' Or roughly, 'English, yes. No speak Russian.'

Turkmenistan traffic jam

Day 19 - Turkmenistan

Toured Ashgabat today. What an interesting city! The most impressive capital you've never heard of by far I bet. It has, apparently, 654 marble built buildings as of six months ago, it's now up to about 680 my guide estimated. Which is a lot of marble buildings when you consider they're all massive office/apartment blocks. All of the marble is imported from Turkey, Iran and China, which can't be cheap. It's got a bit of Dubai about it without quite the standout statement buildings or reputation. The standard of living in the city appears extremely high and it has civic amenities ago-go. It's clean, its massive, it's basically empty (700k population) I honestly have no idea why this place (the city and the country as a whole) isn't on the tourist radar. It needs to pep up its nightlife a bit but other than that, it's pretty much the complete package as far as I can see. 

Turkmenistan had 10000 tourists this year versus 6000 last year according to my guide yesterday. 

Which is as good as saying, 'we had pretty much no tourism this year and nothing last year'. Frankly, I'd come again just to see the flaming pit thing from yesterday on its own.

Today I visited the national museum, the largest mosque in Central Asia, a mud fort that I've forgotten the name of, numerous national/international/galactic monuments and the Russian Bazaar. Not bad for a short day exploring. I reckon I'm literally the only tourist in town at the moment. There was no one in the museum, my hotel is dead and I've not seen another tourist since..... Well since Tbilisi I think. 

Here's another interesting fact about Turkmenistan that I found out yesterday;

Question: How do you get rid of several thousand unwelcome Russian soldiers within your borders who simply refuse to budge following independence? 

Answer: Declare yourself a neutral country in perpetuity at the UN. 

It's very bad form, diplomatically, to have your troops stationed in a permanently neutral country. The Russians packed up and left in a huff apparently. Neat huh?

Took a short flight to Mary in the afternoon for an overnight stay before moving on again towards Uzbekistan. 

The first president of Turkmenistan (they're only on their second, the first one got voted in with a 99% majority twice, then got voted in for life and then died 12 months later.) Apart from having gold statues of him up the ying-yang, he created his own Turkmen bible, banned ballet (too saucy) and humming. Well banning ballet would get my vote anyway. 

The largest mosque in Central Asia. I wasn't sure if I was allowed to take photos inside. But did anyway. Very impressive! 

The Ministry of Defence building. Just one example of many many many buildings out of the same-ish mold. Tall, marble, new, striking. World domination anyone? 

Day 18 - Turkmenistan

Went to Darwaza today. Sheesh! Make up your own mind on this one. I struggled for words.

Incredible freak of nature following a slight mishap with some natural gas, some Soviet boffins and some health and safety at work issues. It's been burning for over 50 years and still going strong. 

And I had some fantastic grape preserve for breakfast and I saw camels and I drank camels milk beer and I had a long chat in (mostly) English with my guide and I got my washing done - well got someone to do my washing for me but it amounts to the same thing. Brilliant brilliant day all told. 

My first and last taste of camels milk beer called Chal, from a nomadic tribe of Turkmen. It smells of camels and yoghurt. It wasn't that bad actually! 

Try it at home. It won't be authentic but you'll get the idea. All you need is some curdled yoghurt, a splash of vodka and some dung. Any dung will do if you can't get camel dung. Shake it all up in an empty coke bottle for a minute, drink and wince. 

Day 17 - Turkmenistan

Man! I woke up this morning (it's was barely morning) after a terrific sleep. I've obviously been running myself down after days of stress over the travel arrangements and the business of going from place to place on such a hectic schedule. The itinerary in Turkmenistan has been adjusted and I'm missing out on a trip ro Yangikala canyons I was really looking forward to but can't be helped. I no longer have the time on my visa. 

I've spent two days on a boat where the only person who knew any English at all, was one guy who had a single phrase in his repertoire, 'in case of emergency, break glass'. He delighted in repeating this over and over, expecting appreciation and praise every time he did so. To speak to a hotel receptionist who knows ,'please' and 'mister' has been an unexpected joy.

Turkmenbashi doesn't have much about it in itself but I was driven around a brand new tourist town in development, Awaza, just outside. It was one of those empty towns that one hears about. Huge investment in vast, empty hotels with empty extra wide roads and armies of women sweeping the streets. Very interesting. I imagine they are highly confident that tourism will take off at some point. I appeared to be the only tourist in town yesterday though. In fact, I may be the first tourist in town. It felt that way anyhow. 

I took a plane out of Turkmenbashi in the afternoon bound for Ashgabat. So far, I've been very impressed with Turkmenistan. There is oodles of very new and very expensive stuff here. The airport is shiny and the aeroplane brand spanking too. I'm not saying there aren't people barely able to scratch a living here but it doesn't strike me as a country on its knees by a long stretch. 

Do I appear surprised? Well maybe a little but that's just my ignorance showing through and one of the reasons why I'm here, to find out more. 

After an hour in the air and a visit to the Turkmen tourism company to work out the fine detail on the revised itinerary, I found myself on a very cheeky two bed apartment in Ashgabat. All settled for my first two day stay somewhere (if you don't count the boat) and a very happy bunny again. 

Taking photos of military personnel carries a sentence of summary execution in these parts, so I had to take this at long range - but you get the idea about the Cold War look and feel, right? 

Turkmenistan fashion proudly on display. Everyone is wearing the same headgear this season. 

Regional airport at Turkmenbashi. There's some cash floating about here. Luton, it is not. 

Day 16 - Turkmenistan

....well almost. We arrived off the coast at around midnight last night and manoeuvred into position to dock and then stopped there. And didn't move for two hours. It being the wee small hours, I decided to nap for a bit on the basis that there'd be some sort of of announcement that would wake me up. Do they do that sort of thing on Azerbaijani cargo ships? No idea! Must do surely? Just in case, I set my phone alarm to wake me in an hour. I did that every hour for the the next 4 hours and then must have just not bothered because I eventually woke up at 7am to discover we were now stationary, a couple of miles off the coast. 'Shit!' Was my initial reaction. 'They snuck in and out while I was asleep'. After a bit of pacing up and down the cabin checking whether my Azerbaijani visa had run out anticipating a return journey, I then reasoned that no cargo ship would be idle willingly. It would be loading, unloading or moving. Still no-one around to ask, no information on hand just my own logic to rely on. Spotted a couple of other cargo vessels to starboard. Or it may have been port but definitely one of those two and this in my mind confirmed we were waiting for the port authority to let us in.

Stayed like this all day until 6pm. 

Got a couple of messages from the Turkmenistan tour operator that I'd booked with, asking where the hell was I? I already knew from last night that Gerald has given up talking for the time being. I tried to get him to talk last night but failed. I discovered during the day that while I could receive messages/calls, I'm not able to send anything. So borrowed a passengers phone to give them a buzz and tell them where I was and that the itinerary needed shortening and that I'd see them whenever.

I won't go through the rest of the drama that was entry into Turkmenistan, it's too long and boring and I'm too tired. Suffice to say, a supposed 16 hour trip took 48 and gaining entry into a police state is something of a trial for which you need the patience of Job and a fist full of dollars. I basically feel like I'm in the middle of a Tom Clancy Cold War novel, my presumed mission being, to carry a bag of smelly clothes through enemy territory without being executed for being a public health liability. 

Hotel is the best I've stayed in yet. Packed to the gunnels with prostitutes. The two are separate commentaries by the way. As it happens and as I write, I've just turned down a very generous offer from a charming young lady who was most complimentary - which, given my current state, did raise certain questions in my mind around her motivation. Her cadre of friends, who have all been terribly friendly since my arrival, have since withdrawn their collective affections. 

Still, I'm here in Turkmenistan at last and embarking on the next leg, a couple of days late. 

Update - clearly business is slow and presumably because the gaggle have noted I'm onto my third beer and may have changed my mind, I've just been offered a substantial discount on an evening of uncomplicated companionship. I politely declined in my best Russian. I think I might might make this my last beer, just in case. 

Day 15 - Caspian Sea

Avast me hearties! A life on the ocean wave may historically have been all about shanties and jigging in the rigging but aboard a big modern vessel such as this (ahem!) it's about comfort and relaxation. And a chance to catch up drafting emails and blogs etc.

Overall, my cabin really isn't that bad! I've already stayed in a lot worse. It's a bit chilly but the door locks, I have it to myself, and there is a proper bed and while grubby, acceptable. I got some well worn sheets and there's even an en suite bathroom. I had very low expectations and have been surprised they have been (slightly) exceeded.

Dining options on board are limited. I have found a cafe on board which rustled up something(!) Much needed as I ate very little yesterday and needed something filling today. I have also developed a taste for black sweet tea which is pretty much ubiquitous in these here parts. Dinner tonight is a pomegranate (a gift from a grateful taxi driver - it was the least he could do having charged me twice the going rate) a bottle of peach squash, 3/4 of a packet of Cheddars, and the last two chunks of the Bulgarian Toblerone. 

I've realised over the past couple of days that I don't like not knowing things. I can assess risk, deal with disaster and work with ambiguity no problem but total lack of information about anything stresses me out. For example, when does the boat arrive? (shrug) how long does the crossing take? (Shrug) where can I get a cup of tea? (shrug) where is my cabin? (Shrug). It's a form of torture in a way. I know nothing about nothing over here and I'm learning how to deal with it - gradually. I'm not sure what I'll be able to do with either this knowledge about myself, or how to turn it to my advantage back in the world but it's an interesting discovery. Good job I've got plenty of time to mull it over. 

Cabin

Bathroom

Day 14 - Caspian Sea

Well in truth, most of the day was spent trying to get onto the Caspian Sea. Getting across the water has proven to be one of the bigger challenges this trip. In fact it's been a nightmare and there are many pieces to the jigsaw puzzle;

Taxi to the Ro-Ro terminal to discover there I had to come back tomorrow to find out more information (Friday)

Numerous phone calls to discover there as no sailings today (Saturday)

Phone call to confirm there is a sailing today (Sunday)

Taxi back to the Ro-Ro terminal 

Buy ticket 

Take a mini-bus to Alyat (sp?) 70km away to get to port of departure. This bit didn't become clear until after money had changed hands ($90). 

Drive to terminal

Wait in the terminal car park for six hours

Spend two hours getting through passport control and customs

Get on boat* and wait another 4 hours for loading to complete

Hand over passport and ticket to random guy and was left to wander into the ship to find a cabin - somehow. 

Depart. 

*The ticket office itself is a good 5km out of town, in I thought, the docks (Ro-Ro terminal) where I would catch a boat. Not so, for me anyway. The ticket office number is (+99) 0504200905 and can be found down a road just the Baku side of Nargila Cafe on the opposite side of the road. Taxi drivers seem to know Nargila Cafe. I asked the hotel receptionist to make the necessary calls to the office. 

Once through customs etc. I walked to the two vessels docked and followed the passengers ahead of me onto the nearest one. I lost the other passengers as they wove through the interior. After getting on walking around for a bit, I finally found someone and presented them with my passport. They looked a bit confused and after a while, we jointly worked out that I was on a cargo boat headed to Kazakhstan. So hurriedly got off and ran to the next boat. The correct boat. 

So I set sail on the good ship 'Azerbaycan' after a lot of running around and waiting. It is true to say that there are some things that I'm missing from home. A jumper might be one example but there are others. Still, this old war horse can now handle a bit of cold and the occasional hob-nob craving.

I'm counting that as the end of the first leg of my journey. From night bus to Istanbul, ferry across the Bosporus, bullet/sleeper trains across Turkey, Georgian homestay, first beer in Tbilisi, to delays and confusion in Baku, it feels like it's been a busy week and a bit. I HAVE found it a challenge at times but I've managed to do what I set out to do and done so in good humour (for the most part). I wouldn't change any of these experiences even if I were able to. I've met some very generous people, I've seen parts of countries not everyone gets to see, I've staying in some nice places and some awful ones but it's been a very rich and rewarding journey so far! 

The ticket office in the Ro-Ro terminal Baku

A fellow passenger. My first prisoner of the campaign. I think I bored him into surrendering with too much talk about the role supermarkets can play in the UK Horticulture market.

One of me during the long wait at the border. 

Hazy Baku sunset

Day 13 - Azerbaijan (again)

Bollocks. Stuck in Baku. No boat yesterday but hopefully today....? Had to find Accomodation pretty quick when the news came through at 4.30pm after a day of repeated phone calls to fixers and agents. So yesterday was a complete bust all told. Actually, I'm pretty relaxed about it. It's the way things work around here and there's no point getting worked up about it. Shouting that you're British and are entitled to some preferential treatment simply doesn't wash. And why should it. If the boat ain't going, it ain't going. 

It struck me today that I've been wearing a T-shirt that I really ought not to. At least in these parts. A Panzerkampfwagen MKVI (or Tiger Tank in plainer language) albeit in pink, in former Soviet territory is probably not the most diplomatic symbol to sport on ones chest. Given the contribution it made to the  decimation of Soviet agriculture, industry, infrastructure and not least, populous, it is a bit provocative. Everyone has been too polite to punch me but I think a change of outerwear might be in order today. ....Just didn't think. 

Apart from being sartorially insensitive, absolutely nothing else happened yesterday. It was a complete wipeout. I still found some time to smile, relax and chat to the hotel receptionist who was tremendously friendly and helpful. Found a bar to ruminate on my first world problems. Happy days really. 

Day 12 - Azerbaijan

When people stitch the word, 'Baku' to 'oil fields', I see why they do that now. Baku has oil at its heart, in its lungs, running through its veins - basically Baku is covered in the stuff. I have never seen a city quite so dedicated to a single commodity. Absolutely nothing is allowed to get in the way of oil production, refining and transportation. It does create a staggering industrial landscape. I don't however want to write Baku off. I've judged too soon on this trip before now and regretted it. Baku definitely has something about it. Sure it's all about the oil but it feels like there might be a soul underneath the slick. Some sort of richer past hidden beneath the glossy gloop. I don't think I'll be here long enough to get to the bottom of it, much less be able to atriculate it. Nice to leave with the feeling that while it's a money town - but there's probably more to it than that.

On that note, I may not be leaving at all. Not at the moment anyway. I went down to the Ro-Ro terminal yesterday to find out if I could get on a boat today and was told to come back tomorrow (today). We'll see. I have a tense wait until 3pm when I'm supposed to know more. I did pass a conveniently located Marriott which was calling me as I walked by. If I have to stay another night, I might drop in. 

Had to catch a cab to the terminal yesterday. My Azerbaijani isn't that great (two or three words of Russian that I know, plus the odd word of Bulgarian that seems to translate is all I'm able to employ) but the driver and I spent a long time in traffic playing the 'which country manufactures which car' game. We had a bit of a row over Rolls Royce being British or not. I think I was more up to date than him but I let him have his way in the end. It didn't seem worth falling out over. 

Azerbaijan border post

Day 11 - Azerbaijan

Bit of an update from yesterday first. To be honest, I'm not a huge fan of public transport (why oh why do this trip then?!?!) and the thought of catching crazy buses from Tbilisi to Gori to see the birthplace of Stalin was all sounding like a bit of a faff. All that miming and trying to find where you get on and get off etc. Still, I steeled myself, grew a pair and did it. And I'm really glad I did. It's not that bloody hard when you get right down to it.
So I saw where Georgia's favourite son started out, had a couple of hours hobbling around Gori and found the bus back, which was curiously 2 Lari cheaper than the way there (3 versus 5). One gets the bus from Didube market (it's on the Metro) and you just say 'Gori' to anyone that will listen and they point you to the right bus. You get dropped off right outside Stalin's gaff (everyone knows why you'd be going to Gori). The bus back can be found in Gori Marketplace (walk away from Stalin's abode down the big boulevard and hang a right at the first big junction. keep going, can't miss it.). Again, you just say 'Tbilisi' and add some steering wheel gestures for a final flourish and someone will point the way.
I think I'm getting the hang of this travelling lark.

So here's a thing I wasn't expecting. Tbilisi station was fairly crowded with military personnel. Men in sharp combat fatigues, milling around waiting for somewhere to go. We're all familiar with the sight in general but in this case, it struck me that these predominantly very young men, were just a short train ride, a few short hours, from bearing arms against their foe. They all had serious faces and were very alert. It all seemed very immediate, very serious. I felt quite odd about it all. I hope they'd all chosen to do what they were about to do rather than being forced or coerced. Perhaps they were just off to winter camp and the serious faces were down to having prior knowledge of the state of rations there.

To refer back to a previous post, I take back what I said about not being able to find decent bread. So far, Asia has proven bountiful. Excellent bread all round. Yesterday I had a cheese and potato flatbread which was tremendous.

I have become rather partial to first class rail travel. Another sleeper cabin to myself and another cracking journey into Azerbaijan. I took a photo of the border post complete with border guards and when I asked the nice lady on the train if she could take my photo, she said you get thrown in prison for taking photos in this area. So I'm technically on the run. A fugitive from justice.

Have recently arrived in my Baku Hotel and I forgot that I'd splashed out on this one and it's grrrrrreat! Phew! Wash and brush up next on the to-do list.

The big fella himself. One of the greatest genocidal maniacs in human history.

Me! Outside Tbilisi Central Station. It was meant to say that in the photo but I cocked it up and only managed to get 'entral'.

Day 10 - Georgia

I appear to have booked into a pop-up Mumbai slum last night. I mean there's cheap and there's squalid and this wasn't even close to being squalid. Even the bed bugs had bed bugs. Still, what do you expect for $10 a night (it would have been $5 but I booked the private executive suite designed for two). My fellow guests appear to be four North Korean refugees, whose budgets didn't stretch to a private room, or meals out, so they had the free dinner (yes, you get dinner thrown in for your $5!).

When I asked if there was any hot water for a much needed shower, I got a slightly embarrassed shrug in return. Not that it would have mattered. Most of the water that made it to the hand held shower attachment poured down the outside of the hose and onto the floor. I managed to have a brisk wash with what remained but I fear it only dammed the aromatic tide temporarily rather than throwing it back to hades where it belongs. 

My trainers now pong so frightfully, they're making my eyes water. They have reached the point of no return and require urgent replacement. Surely not every spotty teenager on a gap year suffers the same? The hostel got great reviews! Maybe everyone who reviewed only had their stinking, floordrobed bedroom as their reference point. 

I'm on a train tonight (thanks Rhona, I'd already booked a first class ticket!). God save all who travel in her. If the place in Baku isn't a dramatic improvement on this, I'll have to book into the local Hilton. 

Had a perfectly lovely time in a bar last night. The first since crossing into Asia. Germans! In Tbilisi! A chilling proclamation surely? Just tourists on this occasion. Oh, to hear the guttural growl of an entire sentence spoken in a single word. It makes my heart sing. I was almost tempted to talk to them. But I didn't. I could make out some words but German was never really my thing at school. I stopped evesdropping. I was in danger of appearing creepy. Not a good look. 

It's funny how even the vaguely familiar can ring loudly in ones mind when everything is so alien. 

Aside from being in a rough part of town in a crappy hostel, I rather like Tbilisi. It has a sense of history but has wrapped its head around modernity, without quite enough money to do all that much about it.

I've come to to quite like Georgia in general actually. It's very pretty and despite some early reservations, most people I've come across have been extremely friendly and helpful. When in my homestay, Michael talked about the eight years of fighting up north and had some pretty clear views on the rights and wrongs of it all. I shall read a bit more about that and see if I can form my own view. 

Kitchen (don't laugh)

Bathroom/shower/toilet (again, don't laugh)

Day 8 - Northern Turkey

Before we get started, a quick review of Hotel Ipek, Erzerum;

Facilities - Difficult to asses. 

I never came across any.

Location - 3 kebabs

But then I picked it for the location

Hospitality - 2 kebabs

He tried bless him and his English was fractionally better than my Turkish. I wouldn't describe him as warm though.

Comfort - 1 kebab

It had a bed.

Cleanliness - 1 kebab

The sheets looked clean. I may well have picked up Ebola from the rest of the room though. 

Overall - 2 kebabs

Only on the basis that I expect to stay in worse. 

Morning prayer is quite something isn't it? I ought to learn more about this Allah chappie. He must be quite important if one has to get up at 4.45am every morning and shout ones devotion to him. 

Looooong day on the road today with 2 coaches to Batumi in Georgia. The border crossing into Georgia was... interesting. Had my passport taken away for an anxious ten minutes before being allowed in. Was then offered a clutch of fresh and minty passports by someone on the other side (he didn't look like a Consul to me). I declined. I did get the feeling that I'd just entered the Wild West. I suppose most border crossings are a bit hectic. 

Climbed over a mountain range in Central Turkey during the day which was quite beautiful. 

I'm not sure that train station food is quite the deep dive into local cuisine that I imagined. Cheesy Doritos taste much the same here as they do at home. A few forays into the local stuff has given me a taster though and I've been more than pleasantly surprised by Turkey on that score (their wagon wheels are quite excellent). Georgian food I have yet to sample. 

Some Turkish mountains

Some women