So...just as we get some good internet access, I find out that the Kazakstanh government has blocked the entire countries access to blogger.com. Apparantly this is also the case in China - When the government owns the countries sole internet server, they can do whatever they like. But there are still ways and means..
I've found a loophole which lets me post basic text uploads but no photos, I still need to work on a way around that. I dont really understand how the loophole works, its a service offered by a U.S company "proxify.com".
I think they access the internet from the U.S, then forward the pages to me automatically, whilst also disguising the identity of my computer...Sounds a bit technical but it seems to work OK, and the £15 subscription was pretty reasonable.
So - No thanks at all to the Kazak government, who have also taken it upon themselves to ban the websites of all opposition political parties. Nice touch Kazakstanh, Borat would be proud!
Tuesday, 12 October 2010
Sunday, 10 October 2010
Blog update
We've had absolutely no net access since our last posting, the internet appears to be almost illegal in Turkmenistan.
Anyway, we've just arrived in Tashkent, Uzbekistan so I can finally start to upload some new (old)blogs using our hotel internet service. I also have some cool photos to accompany the text, but these will be added over the next couple of days. They take ages to upload, the internet is really slow here..
All is going to plan and amazingly we're exactly on schedule! Bex is now fully recovered from her stomach bug, and Jerry is in top form. Keep checking back for more new blogs over the next 24hrs. :)
Anyway, we've just arrived in Tashkent, Uzbekistan so I can finally start to upload some new (old)blogs using our hotel internet service. I also have some cool photos to accompany the text, but these will be added over the next couple of days. They take ages to upload, the internet is really slow here..
All is going to plan and amazingly we're exactly on schedule! Bex is now fully recovered from her stomach bug, and Jerry is in top form. Keep checking back for more new blogs over the next 24hrs. :)
"The nose that knows.."
Azerbaijan to Turkmenistan
We wake up and head over to the breakfast room. Sat at our breakfast table are a Swiss financier and a young French lady. Banter quickly turns to our trip and Georgia - The Swiss guy asks if we had any problems with the police in Azerbaijan.. I fill him in with the gory details. And Georgia? No, not a single problem with the police.
He goes on to explain that Georgia used to have a very bad reputation for corrupt cops hassling people. Apparently as soon as the current president came to power, he set about sacking the entire traffic police and re-hiring new people who were very well paid. The transformation has been amazing and his plan worked perfectly. Its amazing what you can learn over a full English breakfast!
We head outside to explore downtown Baku to search for the notorious ferry port and ticket office. The city itself is very smart and clean - The pockets of the upper classes here have been swelled by the relatively recent oil boom. They obviously have money to burn, and the shops are ready to help them burn it. Designer label outlets line both sides of the street, and enroute to the docks we pass a new Bentley showroom…
There’s a new paved sidewalk under construction down at the sea front. It winds its way along the sea front through lush green gardens peppered with benches and popcorn vendors. It’s a pleasant stroll to the docks where we find the entrance to the ticket office, a small unmarked door at the side of a narrow alleyway. The clerk is out to lunch, but we hang around and sure enough he eventually makes an appearance.
He speaks no English but gestures the ship is leaving tonight, and that we should return at 8pm that evening to arrange the paperwork. A definite stroke of luck, there is no schedule for our ship which often runs only every 3rd or 4th day, we could have ended up waiting the rest of the week in Baku.
The ship itself is an ageing Russian cargo ship, operating a freight service between Baku and Turkmenbashi Port, Turkmenistan. Its not designed to ferry passengers, but a crew cabin can be hired for $20 or so.
When I woke up this morning I had the dreaded stomach twinges, these lead on to frequent loo stops….Could I have contracted Rebeccas dodgy stomach illness!? With the lengthy ferry trip looming and our next 10 days to be spent in the bad lands of the ’Stans, I decided it would be best to check us into the best medical facility in town for a once over. We jumped in a cab & headed over to the Baku “Mediclub” where we made an appointment to speak with an English speaking doctor.
The hospital was more like a luxury hotel than the military field hospital we experienced in Georgia! Our doctor came out to meet us, I explained our problem, he confirmed that becoming ill in Tukmenistan would be less than ideal & came up with a brilliant plan. I was to have a blood test, poo test, ultra sound and general check up. For Bex he would check her existing prescription and carry out an ultra sound test on her stomach.
They ran the tests as high priority and within an hour we’d both recived the all clear. As a precautionary measure I was also prescribed three different types of drugs, which he assured me would almost definitely fix me up. The results of more involved tests would be emailed to me in a few days time, great service!
Boosted by our results we went straight to the nearest Kebab house for a late lunch. In hindsight, the chilli donor kebab & lager probably wasn’t the smartest of moves...
Down at the docks we started the agonisingly protracted process of buying a ticket and getting customs clearance for the car - As you might imagine, this wasn’t the easiest of things to arrange at midnight in pitch black docks, especially when the only spoken language is Russian.
I use some dead time to clean the air filter elements on the carbs which are now black with dust and dirt - This draws a small crowd of friendly locals who seem utterly bewildered by our choice of car. “Misooobishi cruiser, good!” “Porscha mashin, no good!”.
Later on I find one person that speaks some English, he points me towards the Customs office and we chat briefly. Suddenly a body builder type chap walks into the room - The guy leans over and in a hushed voice says “ Him, my brother. Him Chechen rebel fighter” .Gulp. I make my excuses and head back to the car.
Five hours later and we board the good ship “Ms Mercuri” for our voyage to Turkmenistan. Jerry is parked in the cargo hold, sandwiched between two lines of train carriages that were shunted in by a pair of knackered Russian trains an hour or so before.
We made our way up the gangway and into the ship, before being shown to our crew quarters. At the booking office we’d opted for the more expensive officers quarters. A pretty good room complete with ensuite vacuum flush toilet & shower, bunk beds and an opening window. It shows its age and stinks pretty badly, but the bathroom is a life saver and its actually pretty comfortable. Bex said it reminds her of her horsebox living area.
We spend that evening exploring the very large ship which is deserted all but about 10 passengers. At 1am we sail off into the night, destination Turkmenbashi. I hope their radar isn’t as rusty as the ship…!
He goes on to explain that Georgia used to have a very bad reputation for corrupt cops hassling people. Apparently as soon as the current president came to power, he set about sacking the entire traffic police and re-hiring new people who were very well paid. The transformation has been amazing and his plan worked perfectly. Its amazing what you can learn over a full English breakfast!
We head outside to explore downtown Baku to search for the notorious ferry port and ticket office. The city itself is very smart and clean - The pockets of the upper classes here have been swelled by the relatively recent oil boom. They obviously have money to burn, and the shops are ready to help them burn it. Designer label outlets line both sides of the street, and enroute to the docks we pass a new Bentley showroom…
There’s a new paved sidewalk under construction down at the sea front. It winds its way along the sea front through lush green gardens peppered with benches and popcorn vendors. It’s a pleasant stroll to the docks where we find the entrance to the ticket office, a small unmarked door at the side of a narrow alleyway. The clerk is out to lunch, but we hang around and sure enough he eventually makes an appearance.
He speaks no English but gestures the ship is leaving tonight, and that we should return at 8pm that evening to arrange the paperwork. A definite stroke of luck, there is no schedule for our ship which often runs only every 3rd or 4th day, we could have ended up waiting the rest of the week in Baku.
The ship itself is an ageing Russian cargo ship, operating a freight service between Baku and Turkmenbashi Port, Turkmenistan. Its not designed to ferry passengers, but a crew cabin can be hired for $20 or so.
When I woke up this morning I had the dreaded stomach twinges, these lead on to frequent loo stops….Could I have contracted Rebeccas dodgy stomach illness!? With the lengthy ferry trip looming and our next 10 days to be spent in the bad lands of the ’Stans, I decided it would be best to check us into the best medical facility in town for a once over. We jumped in a cab & headed over to the Baku “Mediclub” where we made an appointment to speak with an English speaking doctor.
The hospital was more like a luxury hotel than the military field hospital we experienced in Georgia! Our doctor came out to meet us, I explained our problem, he confirmed that becoming ill in Tukmenistan would be less than ideal & came up with a brilliant plan. I was to have a blood test, poo test, ultra sound and general check up. For Bex he would check her existing prescription and carry out an ultra sound test on her stomach.
They ran the tests as high priority and within an hour we’d both recived the all clear. As a precautionary measure I was also prescribed three different types of drugs, which he assured me would almost definitely fix me up. The results of more involved tests would be emailed to me in a few days time, great service!
Boosted by our results we went straight to the nearest Kebab house for a late lunch. In hindsight, the chilli donor kebab & lager probably wasn’t the smartest of moves...
Down at the docks we started the agonisingly protracted process of buying a ticket and getting customs clearance for the car - As you might imagine, this wasn’t the easiest of things to arrange at midnight in pitch black docks, especially when the only spoken language is Russian.
I use some dead time to clean the air filter elements on the carbs which are now black with dust and dirt - This draws a small crowd of friendly locals who seem utterly bewildered by our choice of car. “Misooobishi cruiser, good!” “Porscha mashin, no good!”.
Later on I find one person that speaks some English, he points me towards the Customs office and we chat briefly. Suddenly a body builder type chap walks into the room - The guy leans over and in a hushed voice says “ Him, my brother. Him Chechen rebel fighter” .Gulp. I make my excuses and head back to the car.
Five hours later and we board the good ship “Ms Mercuri” for our voyage to Turkmenistan. Jerry is parked in the cargo hold, sandwiched between two lines of train carriages that were shunted in by a pair of knackered Russian trains an hour or so before.
We made our way up the gangway and into the ship, before being shown to our crew quarters. At the booking office we’d opted for the more expensive officers quarters. A pretty good room complete with ensuite vacuum flush toilet & shower, bunk beds and an opening window. It shows its age and stinks pretty badly, but the bathroom is a life saver and its actually pretty comfortable. Bex said it reminds her of her horsebox living area.
We spend that evening exploring the very large ship which is deserted all but about 10 passengers. At 1am we sail off into the night, destination Turkmenbashi. I hope their radar isn’t as rusty as the ship…!
Georgia to Azerbaijan
The road out of Tbilisi heads up into the surrounding hills as it snakes its way to the Azerbaijan border. The scenery changes quite dramatically from urban sprawl to a limitless vista of baron, scorched central Asian "steppe". Becky spots a cowboy at the side of the road..
Soon enough we arrive at the Georgian border, once again the police are helpful and friendly. Everything new in this country is modelled and styled very much on the U.S, right down to the police uniforms. Interestingly some of the guards wear U.S pattern camouflage clothing, others U.S styled police shirts. All carry U.S made Colt firearms and wear baseball caps. I have no doubt this is intended on some level to highlight the countries Western allegiance to neighbouring Russia…
We joke with the guard on the final barrier as he tells us to prepare ourselves for a very different attitude in Azerbaijan. “What can I say? Some people like the West….Some don’t. Good luck guys. Remember, just be patient!” He taps the roof of the car, hands me my passport and we’re off. I ask for permission to snap a picture. “Sure!”
The difference between Georgia and Azerbaijan was quite astonishing. As we queue for the Azerbaijan border, stern looking border agents dressed in Russian urban camouflage with large peaked caps stare distrustfully at us. One guard walks past and sarcastically shouts “Hey England, America, our friends! Welcome in Georgia not Azerbaijan!” A second guy laughs and they both walk off.
It was right about now that I noticed people checking out my shorts…A pretty standard pair of khaki cotton shorts, they weren’t exactly garish. I then noticed that despite the scorching hot weather, everyone else was wearing trousers. Hmmmmm, something was up. I picked up my trusty Lonely Planet guide book and leafed through to the section on clothing…… “Wearing of shorts is considered to be mildly offensive by the local population…“ DOH! Great move Max. I did think about changing into trousers but figured getting semi-naked at the border post probably wouldn’t go down too well either.
Its probably boring to read about the details of getting through the process, so I’ll just highlight some of the more interesting points - In reality I guess the fact that I’m driving a Porsche doesn’t really work in my favour in some of these places (!)
$50 pocket money to the border agent to get the car through - In fairness once again this proved to be money well spent. The entry process is hell, and he smoothed things along where possible.
One stage of the entry process requires a guy to transfer some basic details from a form onto a computer. The data entry guy sat at his desk playing a game on his phone for 90 minutes, whilst I and another 20 or so drivers sat there waiting. Every now and then he’d put the phone down and type in one or two words using only one finger and at a painfully slow speed, then start playing the game again with a grin. If anyone asked anything he’d ignore them. Unbelievable! After waiting here for 90 minutes, just 3 or 4 of the drivers had left with their papers stamped. Just when I was about to walk out, the guy that I’d paid $50 to earlier on came into the room looking for me. He shouted at the guy on the phone and I was out in less than a minute.
Azerbaijan had a civil war with a neighbouring Negron in the not too distant past - One border guard marched up to the car whilst I was queuing, he spotted the Lonely Planet guide book on the drivers seats and asked to see it. Obviously familiar with the book, he leafed immediately to the section on ***** ripped the whole chapter out and walked off! Quite funny. In due course we make it into Azerbaijan. Out on the open road and its great to be moving again - We pass through a Police checkpoint, but the cops blow a whistle and we’re flagged down. The cop walks up to the car “Radarrrrr speed, too much. Radarrrr” He’s jovial and we both know I need to pay to get going again, I wasn’t speeding. $20 later and we’re back enroute.
Twenty minutes later and blue lights flash up ahead. Same story, different face. The Police here have a fleet of brand new, gleaming white BMW 3-Series cars - They’re on every street corner and seem to just cruise about shouting at people via a loud speaker bolted to the roof. “Speeding. Radarrrrr $50” I manage to negotiate down to $30 and we’re off.
Another twenty minutes later, blue lights again. At this point I’m getting pretty pissed off, its becoming a joke - I video the guy, at least I’ll get something good for the blog out of this! At this rate I’ll be broke before we make it to Baku.
The wise words of the Georgian border guard echo in my mind and I decide to bite my lip. I calmly explain to the cop that we’ve already been stopped for money twice. He doesn’t care. “Seat belt. $50” I explain that we both had belts on. And walk back to the car to show him Becky, who still has her belt on. “Seatbelt, $50. Now” I refuse to pay, and he gives me the option of paying $50 now, or $150 in Baku when we get there.
Great I thought, I’ll go for the Baku option. Then just jump on the ferry boat to Turkmenistan and you can stick your fine. He then went on to explain that they keep my driving licence until payment……I negotiate to $20 pocket money and we’re off.
The car is still running great and despite some high temperatures its keeping cool. We motor on towards Baku, a grand total of 14 hours later we make it…
The majority of roads from the border to Baku were rough , some were dirt. But as you get to within 10km or so of Baku, things start to transform. Roads become new, then cats eyes & street lighting appear out of nowhere. Cresting a hill, the capital itself comes into a view - A vast, wealthy metropolis of grand marble buildings, spotless streets with ornate fountains and delicately paved walkways. The oil boom has paid dividends here and the powers that be seem keen to flaunt it - The feel is similar to that of Dubai in places.
Seemingly every other car is a new BMW or Mercedes - A brand new Porsche Cayenne GTS special edition screams passed us with the windows down and music blaring. All four occupants stick their head out the window cheering as they pass, they’re all about 17 years of age…
Using the now preferred tactic of hiring a cab to lead the way to our hotel, we check into the very nice “Azcot Hotel” a renovated mansion in the heart of town. Time for some well deserved sleep….
Soon enough we arrive at the Georgian border, once again the police are helpful and friendly. Everything new in this country is modelled and styled very much on the U.S, right down to the police uniforms. Interestingly some of the guards wear U.S pattern camouflage clothing, others U.S styled police shirts. All carry U.S made Colt firearms and wear baseball caps. I have no doubt this is intended on some level to highlight the countries Western allegiance to neighbouring Russia…
We joke with the guard on the final barrier as he tells us to prepare ourselves for a very different attitude in Azerbaijan. “What can I say? Some people like the West….Some don’t. Good luck guys. Remember, just be patient!” He taps the roof of the car, hands me my passport and we’re off. I ask for permission to snap a picture. “Sure!”
It was right about now that I noticed people checking out my shorts…A pretty standard pair of khaki cotton shorts, they weren’t exactly garish. I then noticed that despite the scorching hot weather, everyone else was wearing trousers. Hmmmmm, something was up. I picked up my trusty Lonely Planet guide book and leafed through to the section on clothing…… “Wearing of shorts is considered to be mildly offensive by the local population…“ DOH! Great move Max. I did think about changing into trousers but figured getting semi-naked at the border post probably wouldn’t go down too well either.
Its probably boring to read about the details of getting through the process, so I’ll just highlight some of the more interesting points - In reality I guess the fact that I’m driving a Porsche doesn’t really work in my favour in some of these places (!)
One stage of the entry process requires a guy to transfer some basic details from a form onto a computer. The data entry guy sat at his desk playing a game on his phone for 90 minutes, whilst I and another 20 or so drivers sat there waiting. Every now and then he’d put the phone down and type in one or two words using only one finger and at a painfully slow speed, then start playing the game again with a grin. If anyone asked anything he’d ignore them. Unbelievable! After waiting here for 90 minutes, just 3 or 4 of the drivers had left with their papers stamped. Just when I was about to walk out, the guy that I’d paid $50 to earlier on came into the room looking for me. He shouted at the guy on the phone and I was out in less than a minute.
Azerbaijan had a civil war with a neighbouring Negron in the not too distant past - One border guard marched up to the car whilst I was queuing, he spotted the Lonely Planet guide book on the drivers seats and asked to see it. Obviously familiar with the book, he leafed immediately to the section on ***** ripped the whole chapter out and walked off! Quite funny.
Twenty minutes later and blue lights flash up ahead. Same story, different face. The Police here have a fleet of brand new, gleaming white BMW 3-Series cars - They’re on every street corner and seem to just cruise about shouting at people via a loud speaker bolted to the roof. “Speeding. Radarrrrr $50” I manage to negotiate down to $30 and we’re off.
Another twenty minutes later, blue lights again. At this point I’m getting pretty pissed off, its becoming a joke - I video the guy, at least I’ll get something good for the blog out of this! At this rate I’ll be broke before we make it to Baku.
The wise words of the Georgian border guard echo in my mind and I decide to bite my lip. I calmly explain to the cop that we’ve already been stopped for money twice. He doesn’t care. “Seat belt. $50” I explain that we both had belts on. And walk back to the car to show him Becky, who still has her belt on. “Seatbelt, $50. Now” I refuse to pay, and he gives me the option of paying $50 now, or $150 in Baku when we get there.
Great I thought, I’ll go for the Baku option. Then just jump on the ferry boat to Turkmenistan and you can stick your fine. He then went on to explain that they keep my driving licence until payment……I negotiate to $20 pocket money and we’re off.
The car is still running great and despite some high temperatures its keeping cool. We motor on towards Baku, a grand total of 14 hours later we make it…
The majority of roads from the border to Baku were rough , some were dirt. But as you get to within 10km or so of Baku, things start to transform. Roads become new, then cats eyes & street lighting appear out of nowhere. Cresting a hill, the capital itself comes into a view - A vast, wealthy metropolis of grand marble buildings, spotless streets with ornate fountains and delicately paved walkways. The oil boom has paid dividends here and the powers that be seem keen to flaunt it - The feel is similar to that of Dubai in places.
Seemingly every other car is a new BMW or Mercedes - A brand new Porsche Cayenne GTS special edition screams passed us with the windows down and music blaring. All four occupants stick their head out the window cheering as they pass, they’re all about 17 years of age…
Using the now preferred tactic of hiring a cab to lead the way to our hotel, we check into the very nice “Azcot Hotel” a renovated mansion in the heart of town. Time for some well deserved sleep….
Tbilisi hospital...
The Palace Hotel, 1am. Still experiencing bad stomach pains, I ask Becky if she would like to see a doctor. No, she thinks she’ll be OK.
4am - On goes the bedroom light. “ I need to see a Doctor.... now!”
We make our way back to reception and ask the receptionist how we can arrange a doctor call. They set about calling an ambulance, definitely better to be safe than sorry. Bex takes a seat and I pick up a copy of the “Georgia Times”.
“BLAST IN TBILISI:
Civil Georgia: An explosive device went off at about 1am on Wednesday in a suburb of Tbilisi, about 100 Metres from the U.S Embassy building, police said. No one was injured. police destroyed with water canon a second explosive device found in the same site…….Police declined to reveal the type of explosive used, or any other details relating to the incident”
Feeling even more uneasy, I read on....Another article has some really interesting facts on Georgias economy:
“In august 2010, the average wage of a two person family was defined as $103 USD” I knew the country was poor, but that came as quite a shock to me. Anyway, back to Becky.
The reception doors open and in step two female paramedics. After much poking and prodding, they decide to take her back to see a doctor. They proceed to put an I.V fluid shunt in her arm and walk her outside to the waiting ambulance. The next scene was straight out of a comedy film, but at the time it didn’t do much to quell our growing anxiety… !
Becky lays down on the stretcher in the back of the ambulance, the nurse plumbs in a bottle of I.V saline solution. I slam the sliding door, and we’re off…..Or not. The driver turns the key, a sluggish turn over and then a clicking noise. The battery is flat.
Embarrassed looking nurses call for a second vehicle, meanwhile I walk over to the driver and gesture that we bump start it. Both nurses plus me and the driver push the ambulance like crazy, the driver jumps in and the ageing Mercedes rattles into life with a cloud of black smoke.
The Docs surgery is in a bad way, rusting metal gates hang loosely from their hinges and the whole facility looks shot. After more proding, a sleepy Russian doctor pronounces “Stomak infecty” he speaks no other English . We jump back in the ambulance and proceed to Tbilisi general hospital.
Not quite so bad as the first place but definitely bad enough…Hard to summarise but I guess it was reminiscent of a 1950’s Russian hospital on a bad day. An elderly Russian doctor completes the necessary paperwork, confirms the diagnosis and we make our way to the blood test room. You can probably guess what it was like. A bucket of a strange looking. stale purple fluid sits in the corner of the room... The pungent smell of stale bleach lingers in the air.
Upstairs and to bed. I spend the following two days and nights shuttling between the hospital and our hotel. The hospital provides no food or water, and incredibly no soap or loo roll. So I head out in the day time to collect provisions and clothes from our $140 a night empty hotel room, then spend the night in the bed next to Becky.
But the beds are comfortable and one of the nurses supplies me with a course Russian army blanket, it actually proves to be quite a comfortable stay. If only they cleaned the two hospital toilets more than once a week….Especially considering we were in the “Infectious Disease Research Hospital” or CRAP for short.
The horror of those loos, I was convinced I would emerge from my two night stay in a worse state than Becky!
But all things considered Becky continues to make good progress. Two days, six bags of saline solution a two bags of 5% Glucose Infusion later and she’s up and about. Unfortunately nobody in the hospital speaks any English so it’s a constant battle to gleam any information from the staff. I decide to call CEGA air ambulance, our medical insurance company. A very professional sounding chap answers the phone and they’re straight on the case. An outstanding firm!
Meanwhile, I’ve made a new friend in town. George the cab driver .He speaks a little English and seems to be a good egg, with genuine concern for Beckys welfare. I take down his mobile number, anytime I need a cab ride to the shops or hotel he’s there in 15 minutes flat. It sounds ridiculous, but when nobody speaks any English and even the alphabet is different, this sort of help is invaluable.
Having access to a translator of sorts I decide to use some of the downtime to investigate the suspension problem with the car. I explain the problem to George who immediately shouts “Autoservis!”. Back at the hospital, we’re now friends with our Russian Doctor and one of the nurses, they’re taking good care of Becky who after 3 days is now keen to leave. A lasting memory of the hospital will be the constant smell of cigarette smoke, visitors and Doctors alike all smoke constantly inside the building.
The Doc prescribes a bag of pills, we pay our hospital bill (Less than £100 all in) and we’re off. I must say that despite the state of the hospital itself, the staff were all really friendly and helpful. Our Doctor was a great guy and went out of his way to keep an extra eye on Becky. Doc, if you’re reading this, cut back on the smoking !
I drop Bex back at the hotel and head off with George to the Autoservis centre. I expected a pretty ropey back street garage, but instead we arrive at a superb and very large 15 bay car service facility - A spotlessly clean and very professional “Tageta Motors”.
As soon as we pull up most of the mechanics down tools and walk over to check out the car. They love it and it’s the usual thumbs up from everybody. The manager comes over and we chat. He explains that they’re already a MAN truck and OPEL main agent, and that Porsche Stuttgart had been over to inspect the facility with a view to making it a Porsche approved garage in 2011. Great choice George!
I explain the problem to the mechanics using George as translator. I already know the problem is down to a spacer in the shock absorber strut, and set about showing the guys what to do. They machine a spacer from a piece of steel, fit it to the shocker housing and we’re all done. The manager brings over two large Tageta Motors stickers which now sit proudly on the bonnet.
Meanwhile CEGA medical call me from the U.K. They’ve spoken to our Russian Doctor, he explains that the problem was due to a bacterial infection of the stomach and that the drugs should cure the problem. Very kindly he offered to call the hospital again next week to get the last of the test results, then call me with the info. Superb service, thanks Felix!
I make my way back to the hotel in a ‘clonk free’ 912, and bid farewell to George. Bex is looking great so we head out for dinner at a local restaurant. Fortunately they have a micro brewery in site, I feel duty bound to try out the special dark ale….Great stuff! J
4am - On goes the bedroom light. “ I need to see a Doctor.... now!”
We make our way back to reception and ask the receptionist how we can arrange a doctor call. They set about calling an ambulance, definitely better to be safe than sorry. Bex takes a seat and I pick up a copy of the “Georgia Times”.
“BLAST IN TBILISI:
Civil Georgia: An explosive device went off at about 1am on Wednesday in a suburb of Tbilisi, about 100 Metres from the U.S Embassy building, police said. No one was injured. police destroyed with water canon a second explosive device found in the same site…….Police declined to reveal the type of explosive used, or any other details relating to the incident”
Feeling even more uneasy, I read on....Another article has some really interesting facts on Georgias economy:
“In august 2010, the average wage of a two person family was defined as $103 USD” I knew the country was poor, but that came as quite a shock to me. Anyway, back to Becky.
The reception doors open and in step two female paramedics. After much poking and prodding, they decide to take her back to see a doctor. They proceed to put an I.V fluid shunt in her arm and walk her outside to the waiting ambulance. The next scene was straight out of a comedy film, but at the time it didn’t do much to quell our growing anxiety… !
Becky lays down on the stretcher in the back of the ambulance, the nurse plumbs in a bottle of I.V saline solution. I slam the sliding door, and we’re off…..Or not. The driver turns the key, a sluggish turn over and then a clicking noise. The battery is flat.
Embarrassed looking nurses call for a second vehicle, meanwhile I walk over to the driver and gesture that we bump start it. Both nurses plus me and the driver push the ambulance like crazy, the driver jumps in and the ageing Mercedes rattles into life with a cloud of black smoke.
The Docs surgery is in a bad way, rusting metal gates hang loosely from their hinges and the whole facility looks shot. After more proding, a sleepy Russian doctor pronounces “Stomak infecty” he speaks no other English . We jump back in the ambulance and proceed to Tbilisi general hospital.
Not quite so bad as the first place but definitely bad enough…Hard to summarise but I guess it was reminiscent of a 1950’s Russian hospital on a bad day. An elderly Russian doctor completes the necessary paperwork, confirms the diagnosis and we make our way to the blood test room. You can probably guess what it was like. A bucket of a strange looking. stale purple fluid sits in the corner of the room... The pungent smell of stale bleach lingers in the air.
Upstairs and to bed. I spend the following two days and nights shuttling between the hospital and our hotel. The hospital provides no food or water, and incredibly no soap or loo roll. So I head out in the day time to collect provisions and clothes from our $140 a night empty hotel room, then spend the night in the bed next to Becky.
But the beds are comfortable and one of the nurses supplies me with a course Russian army blanket, it actually proves to be quite a comfortable stay. If only they cleaned the two hospital toilets more than once a week….Especially considering we were in the “Infectious Disease Research Hospital” or CRAP for short.
The horror of those loos, I was convinced I would emerge from my two night stay in a worse state than Becky!
But all things considered Becky continues to make good progress. Two days, six bags of saline solution a two bags of 5% Glucose Infusion later and she’s up and about. Unfortunately nobody in the hospital speaks any English so it’s a constant battle to gleam any information from the staff. I decide to call CEGA air ambulance, our medical insurance company. A very professional sounding chap answers the phone and they’re straight on the case. An outstanding firm!
Meanwhile, I’ve made a new friend in town. George the cab driver .He speaks a little English and seems to be a good egg, with genuine concern for Beckys welfare. I take down his mobile number, anytime I need a cab ride to the shops or hotel he’s there in 15 minutes flat. It sounds ridiculous, but when nobody speaks any English and even the alphabet is different, this sort of help is invaluable.
Having access to a translator of sorts I decide to use some of the downtime to investigate the suspension problem with the car. I explain the problem to George who immediately shouts “Autoservis!”. Back at the hospital, we’re now friends with our Russian Doctor and one of the nurses, they’re taking good care of Becky who after 3 days is now keen to leave. A lasting memory of the hospital will be the constant smell of cigarette smoke, visitors and Doctors alike all smoke constantly inside the building.
The Doc prescribes a bag of pills, we pay our hospital bill (Less than £100 all in) and we’re off. I must say that despite the state of the hospital itself, the staff were all really friendly and helpful. Our Doctor was a great guy and went out of his way to keep an extra eye on Becky. Doc, if you’re reading this, cut back on the smoking !
I drop Bex back at the hotel and head off with George to the Autoservis centre. I expected a pretty ropey back street garage, but instead we arrive at a superb and very large 15 bay car service facility - A spotlessly clean and very professional “Tageta Motors”.
As soon as we pull up most of the mechanics down tools and walk over to check out the car. They love it and it’s the usual thumbs up from everybody. The manager comes over and we chat. He explains that they’re already a MAN truck and OPEL main agent, and that Porsche Stuttgart had been over to inspect the facility with a view to making it a Porsche approved garage in 2011. Great choice George!
I explain the problem to the mechanics using George as translator. I already know the problem is down to a spacer in the shock absorber strut, and set about showing the guys what to do. They machine a spacer from a piece of steel, fit it to the shocker housing and we’re all done. The manager brings over two large Tageta Motors stickers which now sit proudly on the bonnet.
Meanwhile CEGA medical call me from the U.K. They’ve spoken to our Russian Doctor, he explains that the problem was due to a bacterial infection of the stomach and that the drugs should cure the problem. Very kindly he offered to call the hospital again next week to get the last of the test results, then call me with the info. Superb service, thanks Felix!
I make my way back to the hotel in a ‘clonk free’ 912, and bid farewell to George. Bex is looking great so we head out for dinner at a local restaurant. Fortunately they have a micro brewery in site, I feel duty bound to try out the special dark ale….Great stuff! J
Turkey to Tbilisi
We make a late start out of our hotel in Trabzon. Bex seems to have become weaker overnight and finds it a struggle to carry her bags back to the car. But after numerous prods with a sharp stick and some light verbal harassment, she picks up her bags and stumbles onwards. (Ok, ok….I carry the bags and she strolls to the car park)
Sunday, 3 October 2010
Medical medleys and other setbacks
Please standby for the next blog updates, we've had a few setbacks since the last posting and now we're struggling to find net access. Until the full blown story gets posted up, heres a brief summary of what's fallen off the car, and us, since we last posted...
1. Becky spent three days in Tbilisi hospital following her stomach illness....(It never did get better) She's well and truly on the mend now though.
2. The car developed some weird and wonderful suspension noises approaching Tbilisi, the roads were dire...It was stripped down in a garage and we fixed it up.
3. Right now we're in Baku, Azerbaijan. The land of 1001 corrupt policeman....Three fictitious speeding fines received within the first hour of entering the country. Thanks guys! Losers..
4. We're just about to catch the freight ship from Baku to Turkmenbashi Port in Turkmenistan. With a fair wind its a 15 hour crossing, so we should be there sometime tomorrow lunchtime. Its supposed to be a nightmare trip, so whether or not we actually get on the boat is another matter....
More details and some very cool pictures to follow soon. Stay tuned!
1. Becky spent three days in Tbilisi hospital following her stomach illness....(It never did get better) She's well and truly on the mend now though.
2. The car developed some weird and wonderful suspension noises approaching Tbilisi, the roads were dire...It was stripped down in a garage and we fixed it up.
3. Right now we're in Baku, Azerbaijan. The land of 1001 corrupt policeman....Three fictitious speeding fines received within the first hour of entering the country. Thanks guys! Losers..
4. We're just about to catch the freight ship from Baku to Turkmenbashi Port in Turkmenistan. With a fair wind its a 15 hour crossing, so we should be there sometime tomorrow lunchtime. Its supposed to be a nightmare trip, so whether or not we actually get on the boat is another matter....
More details and some very cool pictures to follow soon. Stay tuned!
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