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.