Despite the early start, I still found it very amusing that our room at Hotel Rahaat actually has its very own resident rat! Actually it looks more like a baby field mouse, it keeps peering at us from behind the wardrobe so I decide to feed it some breakfast - Iranian soft cheese, cake and coffee. It only took to the cheese and cake though…
Downstairs to Jerry and in no time we’re back on the road. Onward and upwards to Farap, the border between Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan. First of all we stop at the ancient city of Merv, a ruined city dating from the 3rd century BC.
Incredibly, despite being made of nothing more than straw and mud, the towering walls of Giaur Kala castle are still very much intact. We stop and take a quick look around, its an impressive structure and the views over the neighbouring farmland are superb. We head on to the ruined city of Erk Kala, an even older city dating back to the 6th Century BC - Structurally theres little more remaining than a 50M tall pile of earth, but the floor is absolutely littered with shards of ancient earthenware pots and the like.
Angela explains that following the Soviet invasion of Turkmenistan, this site was quickly fenced off as a Soviet military base. The Russian military carried out some basic archaeological digs, but quickly lost interest and to this day the site remains almost totally undisturbed - No doubt there a still some very interesting artefacts lurking beneath the sandy soil, just waiting to be discovered.
Back in the car and after a brief lunch stop near to Turkmanabat, we arrive at the Farap border crossing. Angela does a great job of making our formal exit from Turkmenistan as painless as possible, she accompanies us through customs and we’re out in less than 10 minutes. We’re both very sad to say goodbye to Angela, who has become a good friend in just three days - We exchange contact details, bid farewell and head off to the Uzbekistan border.
After the usual palaver at the Uzbek border, we’re in without excessive delay. I’d heard some horror stories about this crossing point, but the staff proved to be very helpful and it was all quite painless. Bored, I flick through our Lonely Planet guide book and stumble across a small snippet of extra info on the ferry that we took from Baku to Turkmenbashi - Apparantly one of them sank in 2002, killing all 51 people on board...
Uzbekistan roads prove to be a whole lot better than Turkmen ones, but once again we find ourselves heading into the darkness as we motor onwards to our night stop.
Several incident free hours later we arrive at the very picturesque town of Bukhara, where coach loads of German and French tourists seem absolutely aghast that we’ve driven here from England. By the time we check into hotel Asia, every restaurant in town is shut and we’re starving…. We find a cab and using two of the six local words we know “Shashlik” (kebab) and “Piva” (beer) we’re whisked out of town to the cabies favourite late night beer and food joint.
We make it back to the hotel for midnight, another long day of 12+ hours on the road. We’re both looking forward to our scheduled 5 days off in Almaty, Kazakhstan - A good chance for some R&R before we hit China on the 18th
Friday, 15 October 2010
Ashgabat to Mary
We spend the morning carrying out a little maintenance to the car - The ignition points have magically closed up a little and need re-setting,. Also, the constantly deteriorating quality of fuel means that each day I need to re-set the timing, which is running more and more retarded to keep the ‘pinking’ at bay.
Meanwhile, our guide Angela spends the morning carrying out our 'OVR' registration with the immigration police. Yet more forms and rubber stamps, the country is very secretive and appears to be fairly paranoid about foreign visitors…The previous evening we were told how our visa application would have gone through five different national security departments before being approved... Its common place for visa applications, especially those from Indian and Russian nationals, to be denied for no apparent reason.
The drive takes us onwards through the Karakum desert, past countless camels and an endless vista of sand dunes. Strange looking miniature straw fences jut out from the dunes, the latest effort at preventing the shifting sands from engulfing the road - We're told how just a few years ago two school buses collided in this area, around 50 people died in the tragedy which was partly due to narrowed lanes from blowing sand.
Its hot and the road starts to make its way up hill, an incline that goes on and on and on…..Two hours later and we’re still going up! Its the hill from hell that just keeps on giving… But with the auxiliary oil cooler fans on, the engine maintains a healthy temperature and eventually we reach the summit for lunch.
It’s a long drive, but despite our best efforts at avoiding night drives, we eventually find ourselves once again heading into the abyss. The roads once again start to deteriorate and we’re back to the Porsche destruction derby….. The car crashes and bangs its way through countless craters and troughs. Our headlights are no match for the swirling clouds of dust and sand, it’s just a case of point, shoot and hope for the best.
All of a sudden there’s a serious BANG! The car decelerates and swerves right, stunned we pull over to the side of the road. Right behind another car that has also just driven straight into the 2ft pile of tarmac left in the middle of the road by workmen…It had dried rock hard in the sun, Jerry had clipped the side of it with its offside front torsion bar cover.
A quick peak under the front with my trusty Maglite showed one side of the front suspension caked in concrete and tarmac, I walked around to the rear of the car where one of the rear light units was found dangling by its earth lead, completely ejected from its housing by the force of the impact. This wasnt the time or the place to be fixing things properly, so I set about duct taping the light unit back in place.
The other car appeared to have come off slightly worse, its engine wouldn’t start and its occupants were pretty peeved about the whole incident. Satisfied that we’d had a lucky escape, I turned the key only to hear the rapid whine of our high torque starter but no ignition….After running some basic checks on the engine, I find that the force of the impact had jolted the distributor, which I now leave only hand friction tight for ease of adjustment, to an excessively retarded position. I re-set it, turn the key and we’re off, this time more slowly.
An hour later we arrive at Mary (pronounced Mahreeee and nothing to do with a Lady). it’s a busy town, notable for its lack of interesting sights…Just an endless stream of HGV lorries making their way to the Uzbek and Iranian borders. We check into our hotel “Rahaat” and after a dinner of vodka and kebabs, hit the sack.
Meanwhile, our guide Angela spends the morning carrying out our 'OVR' registration with the immigration police. Yet more forms and rubber stamps, the country is very secretive and appears to be fairly paranoid about foreign visitors…The previous evening we were told how our visa application would have gone through five different national security departments before being approved... Its common place for visa applications, especially those from Indian and Russian nationals, to be denied for no apparent reason.
The drive takes us onwards through the Karakum desert, past countless camels and an endless vista of sand dunes. Strange looking miniature straw fences jut out from the dunes, the latest effort at preventing the shifting sands from engulfing the road - We're told how just a few years ago two school buses collided in this area, around 50 people died in the tragedy which was partly due to narrowed lanes from blowing sand.
Its hot and the road starts to make its way up hill, an incline that goes on and on and on…..Two hours later and we’re still going up! Its the hill from hell that just keeps on giving… But with the auxiliary oil cooler fans on, the engine maintains a healthy temperature and eventually we reach the summit for lunch.
It’s a long drive, but despite our best efforts at avoiding night drives, we eventually find ourselves once again heading into the abyss. The roads once again start to deteriorate and we’re back to the Porsche destruction derby….. The car crashes and bangs its way through countless craters and troughs. Our headlights are no match for the swirling clouds of dust and sand, it’s just a case of point, shoot and hope for the best.
All of a sudden there’s a serious BANG! The car decelerates and swerves right, stunned we pull over to the side of the road. Right behind another car that has also just driven straight into the 2ft pile of tarmac left in the middle of the road by workmen…It had dried rock hard in the sun, Jerry had clipped the side of it with its offside front torsion bar cover.
A quick peak under the front with my trusty Maglite showed one side of the front suspension caked in concrete and tarmac, I walked around to the rear of the car where one of the rear light units was found dangling by its earth lead, completely ejected from its housing by the force of the impact. This wasnt the time or the place to be fixing things properly, so I set about duct taping the light unit back in place.
The other car appeared to have come off slightly worse, its engine wouldn’t start and its occupants were pretty peeved about the whole incident. Satisfied that we’d had a lucky escape, I turned the key only to hear the rapid whine of our high torque starter but no ignition….After running some basic checks on the engine, I find that the force of the impact had jolted the distributor, which I now leave only hand friction tight for ease of adjustment, to an excessively retarded position. I re-set it, turn the key and we’re off, this time more slowly.
An hour later we arrive at Mary (pronounced Mahreeee and nothing to do with a Lady). it’s a busy town, notable for its lack of interesting sights…Just an endless stream of HGV lorries making their way to the Uzbek and Iranian borders. We check into our hotel “Rahaat” and after a dinner of vodka and kebabs, hit the sack.
Turkmenbashi to Ashgabat
I wake up and decide to read a little more from the Lonely Planet guide book “Be aware that all top range hotel rooms are bugged, as are many offices, restaurants and anywhere that foreigners meet. Reserve sensitive conversations….” Oooops, I probably should have read that before last night…
Feeling more than a little worse for wear following our Vodka session the night before, we make our way downstairs to check out. A Kiwi oil worker dressed in reflective work gear approaches us “Hey! Are you the nut jobs driving the Porsche out in the parking lot from London to Veeeetnam?” Yep, that would be us….. “Its great, I love it! Make sure you get yourself some thermal underwear for China, you’re gonna freeze your nuts off! Its gonna start getting cold around here soon, I’m on the next flight home. Good luck, you’ll need it!”
We jump in the car and head for the desert. Our first stop is for fuel, incredibly cheap fuel. 40 Litres of Turkmenistans finest 95 (80?!) octane, sets me back a shade over £4. Cheaper than water, result. Unfortunately I think it may well have been partly water, because this was to be the start of yet more fuel quality issues…
I couldn’t believe how cheap the fuel was, but our guide explained that up until fairly recently the typical cost was….Get ready for it……$0.02c a Litre. A shade over 1p.
Talking of cheap stuff, here’s an interesting little fact about Turkmenistan….The country is awash with natural gas, because of this the president kindly supplies it free of charge to all homes. But, the country is still very poor - So, to save the cost of a match, people will leave their gas hob burning 24/7 ! Brilliant.
The roads start off great, but as we head out through the sands they turn incredibly bad. The Russians used a very soft pure tarmac to surface the road 40 years ago - Forty years of HGV use later, deep ruts have been ploughed through the tarmac, making the road look more like a ploughed field….Some of it is beyond words, so I’ll just post some photos up - This drive was like a Porsche destruction derby. My biggest concern was bottoming out the underside of the car, specifically the engine, on the peaks of the ridges.
We pass a huge beer factory which appears closed, Angela explains that it was once a thriving company producing some of the countries best beer. One day the police arrived and arrested the owner, he’s never been seen since. I ask why, but she explains that you never know why, in Turkmenistan people just disappear…
Despite the countless pitfalls, after eleven hours of smashing up the car on insanely bad roads, we arrive safely in Ashgabat, the capital of Turkmenistan.
Just short of the city centre, we stop at a stable yard which specialises in breeding the famous ‘Akhal Teke’ horses. These are considered to be the original horse from which all modern breeds descend. I’m no expert on horses, but these really do look entirely different from your average nag. Narrow bodies and heads, long legs, elongated necks and skin so thin you can see the blood beneath it.
The owner is a friendly chap, he asks one of the staff to parade a few of his best horses out in front of us, whilst we make short work of the green tea and dried dates on offer. Becky, a professional rider, jumps straight onto one of the more lively horses and speeds off into the desert, hot on the heals of the yard manager who is riding a famous Ashgabat based race horse. I head back to the car to make yet more minor adjustments to the timing.
With oil and gas prices rocketing year on year, this poor country is beginning to become increasingly wealthy - However…its somewhat eccentric leader decided to use this new found wealth in a rather unusual way. Perhaps it may have been a good idea to start at the bottom - New roads, bridges, hospitals, schools, maybe even a non-corrupt police force?
No….Instead, he’s ploughed hundreds of millions of US Dollars into transforming the capital into a perfectly manicured, OCD clean, glittering jewel of marble and glass. Even dirty cars are illegal in tinsel town, it’s a $50 instant fine….His latest projects include a $63 million artificial river through the city, $17 million for a library in the shape of a book and countless fountains, large sculptures and palaces.
Another ’interesting’ project was to build a 37km concrete staircase into the side of the nearby Kopet Dag mountains, known as the “Walk of Health”. Once a year, the president required all civil servants to walk to the top dressed in suits and ties, he would see them off at the bottom, then fly to the top by helicopter to check they made it OK.
Ashgabat, a new city surrounded by crumbling Soviet infrastructure - Its ironic that you cant actually reach it by road without almost destroying your car!
We check into our hotel and make our way to the English Bar - A very cool little place just down the road from our hotel. Its full of expats and we enjoy the evening sampling local beers alongside staff from the nearby U.S Embassy.
Feeling more than a little worse for wear following our Vodka session the night before, we make our way downstairs to check out. A Kiwi oil worker dressed in reflective work gear approaches us “Hey! Are you the nut jobs driving the Porsche out in the parking lot from London to Veeeetnam?” Yep, that would be us….. “Its great, I love it! Make sure you get yourself some thermal underwear for China, you’re gonna freeze your nuts off! Its gonna start getting cold around here soon, I’m on the next flight home. Good luck, you’ll need it!”
We jump in the car and head for the desert. Our first stop is for fuel, incredibly cheap fuel. 40 Litres of Turkmenistans finest 95 (80?!) octane, sets me back a shade over £4. Cheaper than water, result. Unfortunately I think it may well have been partly water, because this was to be the start of yet more fuel quality issues…
I couldn’t believe how cheap the fuel was, but our guide explained that up until fairly recently the typical cost was….Get ready for it……$0.02c a Litre. A shade over 1p.
Talking of cheap stuff, here’s an interesting little fact about Turkmenistan….The country is awash with natural gas, because of this the president kindly supplies it free of charge to all homes. But, the country is still very poor - So, to save the cost of a match, people will leave their gas hob burning 24/7 ! Brilliant.
The roads start off great, but as we head out through the sands they turn incredibly bad. The Russians used a very soft pure tarmac to surface the road 40 years ago - Forty years of HGV use later, deep ruts have been ploughed through the tarmac, making the road look more like a ploughed field….Some of it is beyond words, so I’ll just post some photos up - This drive was like a Porsche destruction derby. My biggest concern was bottoming out the underside of the car, specifically the engine, on the peaks of the ridges.
We pass a huge beer factory which appears closed, Angela explains that it was once a thriving company producing some of the countries best beer. One day the police arrived and arrested the owner, he’s never been seen since. I ask why, but she explains that you never know why, in Turkmenistan people just disappear…
Despite the countless pitfalls, after eleven hours of smashing up the car on insanely bad roads, we arrive safely in Ashgabat, the capital of Turkmenistan.
Just short of the city centre, we stop at a stable yard which specialises in breeding the famous ‘Akhal Teke’ horses. These are considered to be the original horse from which all modern breeds descend. I’m no expert on horses, but these really do look entirely different from your average nag. Narrow bodies and heads, long legs, elongated necks and skin so thin you can see the blood beneath it.
The owner is a friendly chap, he asks one of the staff to parade a few of his best horses out in front of us, whilst we make short work of the green tea and dried dates on offer. Becky, a professional rider, jumps straight onto one of the more lively horses and speeds off into the desert, hot on the heals of the yard manager who is riding a famous Ashgabat based race horse. I head back to the car to make yet more minor adjustments to the timing.
With oil and gas prices rocketing year on year, this poor country is beginning to become increasingly wealthy - However…its somewhat eccentric leader decided to use this new found wealth in a rather unusual way. Perhaps it may have been a good idea to start at the bottom - New roads, bridges, hospitals, schools, maybe even a non-corrupt police force?
No….Instead, he’s ploughed hundreds of millions of US Dollars into transforming the capital into a perfectly manicured, OCD clean, glittering jewel of marble and glass. Even dirty cars are illegal in tinsel town, it’s a $50 instant fine….His latest projects include a $63 million artificial river through the city, $17 million for a library in the shape of a book and countless fountains, large sculptures and palaces.
Another ’interesting’ project was to build a 37km concrete staircase into the side of the nearby Kopet Dag mountains, known as the “Walk of Health”. Once a year, the president required all civil servants to walk to the top dressed in suits and ties, he would see them off at the bottom, then fly to the top by helicopter to check they made it OK.
Ashgabat, a new city surrounded by crumbling Soviet infrastructure - Its ironic that you cant actually reach it by road without almost destroying your car!
We check into our hotel and make our way to the English Bar - A very cool little place just down the road from our hotel. Its full of expats and we enjoy the evening sampling local beers alongside staff from the nearby U.S Embassy.
Thursday, 14 October 2010
Into the 'Stans...
1030hrs: We’re off! The engines have fired up and they’re dragging the anchor back in.
We slowly motor our way into port - Because the ship is carrying train carriages in the hold, docking is a precision affair. The ship has to line up the fixed train tracks in the hold, with the tracks on the mainland. The Captain does a good job of lining us up, the final stages of docking uses a pilot tug to push the ship sideways into the port.
Its here that we learn our delay wasn’t due to high volumes of traffic, but high winds rolling down from the steep terrain surrounding the port. If the winds are blowing in a certain direction and speed, the effect they have on the ship exceeds the power available from the tug boats and its impossible to dock.
The number 2 comes over and explains there’s a wait for customs to do their thing before we can leave the ship. He spots Becky sat on her bag in a corridor looking half asleep and cold, he promptly beckons us into his cabin for tea and biscuits. Very nice too!
Eventually its time to go and we make our way down to the cargo hold to find Jerry. On the docks, a six man team of pretty stern looking soldiers wearing camoflage and wide brimmed boonie hats, are evenly spaced along each side of the dock side.
We fire up Jerry and motor out, the best part of being last to enter the hold is being the first to leave it! I park the car on the docks and walk over to the office building - Suddenly I hear a lady calling out, “Hey Max!” it’s our mandatory Turkmenistan guide, Angela.
I mentally prepare myself for the infamously complicated arrival paperwork, and walk into the customs hall to meet Angela. A Turkmen national, she speaks both fluent English and Russian, the main language spoken throughout the ‘Stans - This was to prove invaluable right from the word go.
Problem 1: Passport control….We hand our passports over to the passport guy for him to fix our visas into. He jabbers something to Angela, who quickly explains that Beckys passport doesn’t have a free page in her passport for the full page visa sticker. Uh oh….some problems are insurmountable, and this could be one of them. I couldnt believe it, I'd calculated how many pages we'd need for each country, then left another 5 spare. It turned out that Serbia, Croatia, Bulgaria and Turkey had been randomly stamping new pages at each border....
Fortunately after 40 minutes of waiting and wondering, the guy asked where Antigua is - I explain, but he’s never heard of it. Two minutes later the Antigua stamp has been replaced with a shiny new visa sticker! Happy days. This problem is ongoing though, we still need two more free pages for visas, one for Laos, the other for Vietnam. This could require some creative thinking further down the line…
Problem 2: Next stop is the border police. Two plain clothes guys in a side office, one old and one young, both very smart with shiny shoes. Top tip, beware the plain clothes officials wearing shiny shoes… They’re usually the ones high up the command chain, firmly holding all of the cards…
The elderly of the two says very little, but sits at the back of the room watching, listening to every word. He nods to his junior who calmly and quietly pronounces “Porsche? My friend, sportscars are illegal in Turkmenistan” Uh oh… Surely this is some mistake, I turn to Angela for some re-assurance that she’ll be able to sort things out but even she appears concerned…
Thirty minutes later there’s no change, rules are rules and theres nothing they can do to help. I start planning a re-route, the only option open to us would be to head back on the boat to Baku, then take a ferry from Baku to Aktau, Kazakstanh. This would be a costly exercise in terms of both time and money. I reckoned on an extra $600 and a week of travelling.
Angela tries her best to reason with the two guys, she explains that the car isn’t a Sportscar. After all, theres no mention of sportscar anywhere on the registration document… After presenting her case to them, the younger guy starts to study every inch of the registration document for any sign of the word Sportscar.
In the meantime, Alec, another tour company representative comes into the room. He speaks with both guys to check on the problem, he’s never heard of this new law and sceptical, asks to see the rule book. Five minutes later he returns solemn faced….”Sorry guys, I checked the book and its a genuine new law” He then explains to the police that an Azeri Prince who was gifted a new Aston Martin last by the British Government last year (!) recently drove it through with no problems, but this falls on deaf ears.
The police say they will refer the case to HQ in Ashgabat, but its unlikely we’ll be granted permission. In the meantime, we’ll have to leave the car in a compound at the docks.
Everyone leaves the room for a cigarette, all but me and the younger of the two officers, he turns to me and quietly says “Mr Levell….you have a problem, I can ‘fix’ your problem. If I fix your problem, how much will you give me?” An offer of $50 is accepted, he immediately issues an entry permit and starts preparing the reams of paperwork. One hour and $400 in permits later and we’re ready to leave the port.
The initial plan was to drive straight to Ashgabat, a hardcore drive on dangerously poor desert roads littered with camels. Yes, camels! Alec explains that the drive is bad enough in the day, at night it’s a death wish. We’re guaranteed to either crash, wreck the car or both. Its getting late, so we decide to stay the night and make an early start in the morning.
That night is spent with Angela and Alec enjoying some outstanding local Shaslik kebabs, washed down with some top of the range local Vodka (£2 a bottle) and beer. Four bars later we hit the sack, entirely unprepared for our early start the next day....
We slowly motor our way into port - Because the ship is carrying train carriages in the hold, docking is a precision affair. The ship has to line up the fixed train tracks in the hold, with the tracks on the mainland. The Captain does a good job of lining us up, the final stages of docking uses a pilot tug to push the ship sideways into the port.
Its here that we learn our delay wasn’t due to high volumes of traffic, but high winds rolling down from the steep terrain surrounding the port. If the winds are blowing in a certain direction and speed, the effect they have on the ship exceeds the power available from the tug boats and its impossible to dock.
The number 2 comes over and explains there’s a wait for customs to do their thing before we can leave the ship. He spots Becky sat on her bag in a corridor looking half asleep and cold, he promptly beckons us into his cabin for tea and biscuits. Very nice too!
Eventually its time to go and we make our way down to the cargo hold to find Jerry. On the docks, a six man team of pretty stern looking soldiers wearing camoflage and wide brimmed boonie hats, are evenly spaced along each side of the dock side.
We fire up Jerry and motor out, the best part of being last to enter the hold is being the first to leave it! I park the car on the docks and walk over to the office building - Suddenly I hear a lady calling out, “Hey Max!” it’s our mandatory Turkmenistan guide, Angela.
I mentally prepare myself for the infamously complicated arrival paperwork, and walk into the customs hall to meet Angela. A Turkmen national, she speaks both fluent English and Russian, the main language spoken throughout the ‘Stans - This was to prove invaluable right from the word go.
Problem 1: Passport control….We hand our passports over to the passport guy for him to fix our visas into. He jabbers something to Angela, who quickly explains that Beckys passport doesn’t have a free page in her passport for the full page visa sticker. Uh oh….some problems are insurmountable, and this could be one of them. I couldnt believe it, I'd calculated how many pages we'd need for each country, then left another 5 spare. It turned out that Serbia, Croatia, Bulgaria and Turkey had been randomly stamping new pages at each border....
Fortunately after 40 minutes of waiting and wondering, the guy asked where Antigua is - I explain, but he’s never heard of it. Two minutes later the Antigua stamp has been replaced with a shiny new visa sticker! Happy days. This problem is ongoing though, we still need two more free pages for visas, one for Laos, the other for Vietnam. This could require some creative thinking further down the line…
Problem 2: Next stop is the border police. Two plain clothes guys in a side office, one old and one young, both very smart with shiny shoes. Top tip, beware the plain clothes officials wearing shiny shoes… They’re usually the ones high up the command chain, firmly holding all of the cards…
The elderly of the two says very little, but sits at the back of the room watching, listening to every word. He nods to his junior who calmly and quietly pronounces “Porsche? My friend, sportscars are illegal in Turkmenistan” Uh oh… Surely this is some mistake, I turn to Angela for some re-assurance that she’ll be able to sort things out but even she appears concerned…
Thirty minutes later there’s no change, rules are rules and theres nothing they can do to help. I start planning a re-route, the only option open to us would be to head back on the boat to Baku, then take a ferry from Baku to Aktau, Kazakstanh. This would be a costly exercise in terms of both time and money. I reckoned on an extra $600 and a week of travelling.
Angela tries her best to reason with the two guys, she explains that the car isn’t a Sportscar. After all, theres no mention of sportscar anywhere on the registration document… After presenting her case to them, the younger guy starts to study every inch of the registration document for any sign of the word Sportscar.
In the meantime, Alec, another tour company representative comes into the room. He speaks with both guys to check on the problem, he’s never heard of this new law and sceptical, asks to see the rule book. Five minutes later he returns solemn faced….”Sorry guys, I checked the book and its a genuine new law” He then explains to the police that an Azeri Prince who was gifted a new Aston Martin last by the British Government last year (!) recently drove it through with no problems, but this falls on deaf ears.
The police say they will refer the case to HQ in Ashgabat, but its unlikely we’ll be granted permission. In the meantime, we’ll have to leave the car in a compound at the docks.
Everyone leaves the room for a cigarette, all but me and the younger of the two officers, he turns to me and quietly says “Mr Levell….you have a problem, I can ‘fix’ your problem. If I fix your problem, how much will you give me?” An offer of $50 is accepted, he immediately issues an entry permit and starts preparing the reams of paperwork. One hour and $400 in permits later and we’re ready to leave the port.
The initial plan was to drive straight to Ashgabat, a hardcore drive on dangerously poor desert roads littered with camels. Yes, camels! Alec explains that the drive is bad enough in the day, at night it’s a death wish. We’re guaranteed to either crash, wreck the car or both. Its getting late, so we decide to stay the night and make an early start in the morning.
That night is spent with Angela and Alec enjoying some outstanding local Shaslik kebabs, washed down with some top of the range local Vodka (£2 a bottle) and beer. Four bars later we hit the sack, entirely unprepared for our early start the next day....
Boring snoring...
Well, another decent nights sleep, but still no sign of anything happening anytime soon…More Russian blurb over the tanoy every now and then - Dinner is served or abandon ship, who knows!?
I fired up the GPS earlier on, it shows that we’re anchored inside a huge natural harbour created by a curved spit of land surrounding Turkmenbashi (AKA Krasnovodsk) port. We’re approximately 12km from land. This sheltered mooring helps explain why the sea is near enough dead calm now.
0900hrs - Ventured out of the cabin for a walk around the deck and to see what’s occurring. As usual the place is deserted. The canteen is shut, so there’s no chance of breakfast. Frustratingly the staff canteen upstairs seems to be working 24hrs a day, churning out plates full of delicious smelling food and fresh bread for the crew...
We had some of our field rations for lunch yesterday, so we’re now running low on supplies. Just a foil packet of chicken curry and one of lemon cake with custard left. Their quite tasty but not great when cold, we’re also down to one half litre bottle of water. Theres lots more on the car, but I’m not sure its possible to access the hold whilst at sea.
1200hrs- Two of the crew are fishing off the side of the boat, they can’t catch anything though. Not surprising seeing as the Caspian is one of the worlds most poluted waterways…
1300hrs - Bex made friends with an elderly Turkmen woman yesterday. Today we bumped into the lady again, she was waiting by the canteen doors which were still firmly shut - A large soup ladle jammed between the door handles on the inside. Our new friend was soon joined by four others, they were all hungry and decided it was time for the crew to get off their butts and open the canteen for us.
The lady disappears off shouting something, then returns smiling and gestures for us to come back in 15 minutes. We walk back to our cabin, shortly after she knocks at our cabin door and gestures its food time. Quite a result as we’re both starving.
We dine with five elderly Turkmen women, they organise an order of pasta with some form of unidentifiable protein on the top of it. Delicious though, I think it was tuna, or chicken, Bex put her money on either lamb or camel! Our friend explains that the kitchen are running low on food, seems this delay wasn’t expected.
The conversation comes around to payment for food. Well, I say conversation, but seeing as nobody understands English it’s the usual comedy charrades effort, which can be quite hard work at times. Apparently there is no payment, its supposed to be free…Just what I thought.
Managed to buy a bottle of soft drink to take back to our cabin, so we’re now on the “Gulustan” pear drink, which tastes like liquid pear drops. Hopefully we don’t have to spend another night on bored. Pun intended.
Our Turkmenistan guide has been waiting at the docks for us since yesterday at 9am, we have to pay $100 for each day she has to wait for us, so this delay could also prove quite costly.
1430hrs - Cabin fever. Man, I’m bored, bored, bored. Surely we cant be holed up in this ship for another night? It must be costing the operator quite a bit to keep it moored up offshore. The whisper quiet diesel generator is running day and night to supply power, and we were told earlier that the skeleton crew for the ship is a minimum of 30. So someone must be paying heavily for this delay….Hopefully they’re working to get it sorted.
1800hrs: Watch another DVD on the laptop then head outside for a wander. We bump into a sailor who confirms we will indeed be spending yet another night on the prison ship….AAggghhhhhh!!!! I call my dad on the satellite phone to inform him of the delay.
1900hrs: Back to the canteen for dinner and they’re definitely running out of food - We each get given a pile of boiled lentils with a small spoonful of mashed up meat on the top. Filling but not great….The Captain wanders into the room with one of the crew “Captain asks who you were speaking with on satellite phone?” I explain I was talking with my dad in England. The crew translates this to the Captain who gives me an old fashioned look. Without saying another word they both walk out of the room…
I fired up the GPS earlier on, it shows that we’re anchored inside a huge natural harbour created by a curved spit of land surrounding Turkmenbashi (AKA Krasnovodsk) port. We’re approximately 12km from land. This sheltered mooring helps explain why the sea is near enough dead calm now.
0900hrs - Ventured out of the cabin for a walk around the deck and to see what’s occurring. As usual the place is deserted. The canteen is shut, so there’s no chance of breakfast. Frustratingly the staff canteen upstairs seems to be working 24hrs a day, churning out plates full of delicious smelling food and fresh bread for the crew...
We had some of our field rations for lunch yesterday, so we’re now running low on supplies. Just a foil packet of chicken curry and one of lemon cake with custard left. Their quite tasty but not great when cold, we’re also down to one half litre bottle of water. Theres lots more on the car, but I’m not sure its possible to access the hold whilst at sea.
1200hrs- Two of the crew are fishing off the side of the boat, they can’t catch anything though. Not surprising seeing as the Caspian is one of the worlds most poluted waterways…
1300hrs - Bex made friends with an elderly Turkmen woman yesterday. Today we bumped into the lady again, she was waiting by the canteen doors which were still firmly shut - A large soup ladle jammed between the door handles on the inside. Our new friend was soon joined by four others, they were all hungry and decided it was time for the crew to get off their butts and open the canteen for us.
The lady disappears off shouting something, then returns smiling and gestures for us to come back in 15 minutes. We walk back to our cabin, shortly after she knocks at our cabin door and gestures its food time. Quite a result as we’re both starving.
We dine with five elderly Turkmen women, they organise an order of pasta with some form of unidentifiable protein on the top of it. Delicious though, I think it was tuna, or chicken, Bex put her money on either lamb or camel! Our friend explains that the kitchen are running low on food, seems this delay wasn’t expected.
The conversation comes around to payment for food. Well, I say conversation, but seeing as nobody understands English it’s the usual comedy charrades effort, which can be quite hard work at times. Apparently there is no payment, its supposed to be free…Just what I thought.
Managed to buy a bottle of soft drink to take back to our cabin, so we’re now on the “Gulustan” pear drink, which tastes like liquid pear drops. Hopefully we don’t have to spend another night on bored. Pun intended.
Our Turkmenistan guide has been waiting at the docks for us since yesterday at 9am, we have to pay $100 for each day she has to wait for us, so this delay could also prove quite costly.
1430hrs - Cabin fever. Man, I’m bored, bored, bored. Surely we cant be holed up in this ship for another night? It must be costing the operator quite a bit to keep it moored up offshore. The whisper quiet diesel generator is running day and night to supply power, and we were told earlier that the skeleton crew for the ship is a minimum of 30. So someone must be paying heavily for this delay….Hopefully they’re working to get it sorted.
1800hrs: Watch another DVD on the laptop then head outside for a wander. We bump into a sailor who confirms we will indeed be spending yet another night on the prison ship….AAggghhhhhh!!!! I call my dad on the satellite phone to inform him of the delay.
1900hrs: Back to the canteen for dinner and they’re definitely running out of food - We each get given a pile of boiled lentils with a small spoonful of mashed up meat on the top. Filling but not great….The Captain wanders into the room with one of the crew “Captain asks who you were speaking with on satellite phone?” I explain I was talking with my dad in England. The crew translates this to the Captain who gives me an old fashioned look. Without saying another word they both walk out of the room…
MS MERCURI - Hurry up and wait...
Well, it has to be said we both had a great nights sleep - The Caspian Sea had a light to moderate swell this morning causing us both to stagger about like a pair of drunks which was pretty funny. The bathroom door has also been opening and closing on its own all night, and the wooden cabin furniture creaking with each pitch and roll.
We arrived approximately 5 miles offshore from Turkmenbashi port at 1500 hrs this afternoon. Waiting, wondering and waiting some more… The ship dropped anchor shortly after we arrived, and we’ve been wondering what’s happening ever since. Nobody speaks any English, but as far we can make out we’re waiting for a slot to enter the port.
Every few hours a stern sounding Russian voice announces something over the cabin loud speaker, but we have no clue what its saying. Could be the lottery results for all we know! We have enough rations and bottled water in our rucksack for another day.
1900hrs - The passengers cafeteria just opened up downstairs for the first time. A moody Russian waitress tried her best to ignore us both, but eventually gave in and sauntered over to our table. Food! We get a plate of deep fried chicken, hand cut chips and local bread, just what the doctor didn’t order but delicious all the same. We spend the next hour sat in the canteen drinking a full pot of local tea trying to kill some time. I ask how much, first she says nothing, then a chef asks for $10. I pay and they all laugh, it goes straight into his pocket.
2100 hrs - Looks like we’re staying another night on board, no great hardship, it’s a good chance to kick back and relax.
23:00hrs - OK...Boredom is definitely kicking in now. We know our way around the ship fairly well, but I’m yet to organise a visit to the engine rooms and bridge. Tested the satellite phone on the roof of the ship, works perfectly.
Good night!
We arrived approximately 5 miles offshore from Turkmenbashi port at 1500 hrs this afternoon. Waiting, wondering and waiting some more… The ship dropped anchor shortly after we arrived, and we’ve been wondering what’s happening ever since. Nobody speaks any English, but as far we can make out we’re waiting for a slot to enter the port.
Every few hours a stern sounding Russian voice announces something over the cabin loud speaker, but we have no clue what its saying. Could be the lottery results for all we know! We have enough rations and bottled water in our rucksack for another day.
1900hrs - The passengers cafeteria just opened up downstairs for the first time. A moody Russian waitress tried her best to ignore us both, but eventually gave in and sauntered over to our table. Food! We get a plate of deep fried chicken, hand cut chips and local bread, just what the doctor didn’t order but delicious all the same. We spend the next hour sat in the canteen drinking a full pot of local tea trying to kill some time. I ask how much, first she says nothing, then a chef asks for $10. I pay and they all laugh, it goes straight into his pocket.
2100 hrs - Looks like we’re staying another night on board, no great hardship, it’s a good chance to kick back and relax.
23:00hrs - OK...Boredom is definitely kicking in now. We know our way around the ship fairly well, but I’m yet to organise a visit to the engine rooms and bridge. Tested the satellite phone on the roof of the ship, works perfectly.
Good night!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)