Turkmen flag; green with a crescent moon and star, and a red stripe with what appeared to be 5 carpet patterns on it. Surely not! Whatever, I had obviously not done my homework.IMPRESSIONS..

- Desert, desert everywhere
- 5.5 million nice people and 1 mad man
- Everyone seems to consider themselves Russian (the Turkmen live in the desert with their camels and funny hats)
- Sturgeon and caviar
- No real tourist sites, but great to see how weird a place can be
- We’ve never had it so good and I’m alright, Jack attitudes over-ride political progress

TRAVELOGUE

What I really like to do occasionally is turn up in a place that I’ve not read too much about, and then get hit full in the face by a culture or landscape that I was not expecting. Like wandering into Yosemite in the USA thinking this is just another National Park and then realizing that it is one of the most beautiful places on earth.

Well Turkmenistan was one of those complete shocks. I had read about the country in the usual Lonely Planet guide, and got the impression that the country was just a sleepy desert backwater that was rediscovering its national identity after the Soviets pulled out 10 years ago. But I wasn’t expecting it to be an Alice Through the Looking Glass sort of place!

The visit started with a bit of an edge. Before we set off, we’d had more trouble getting a visa for Turkmenistan than any other country. First we had to get an invitation from a travel agency in the country (a standard approach) and we applied for the visas in London. Then just before we left, a new rule was introduced saying that we’d need a new Travel Permit which would be delivered to the port, to coincide with our arrival on the ferry. More bloody documentation and a bit of a pain as we knew that getting a ferry to Turkmenistan would be a bit of a lottery too. But hey let’s go anyway.

So as we pulled into the port at the Caspian port of Turkmenbashi we were not sure whether our mail message to the travel agent (in the capital Ashgabat) had been received, nor whether they would have been able to contact their agent in Turkmenbashi 600km away.

Turkmenbashi appeared to be a small hot little port underneath a desert cliff, searing in the evening sun. We moved up to the front of the ferry to get a better view and saw the boat’s courtesy flag the first time we’d seen the Turkmen flag; green with a crescent moon and star, and a red stripe with what appeared to be 5 carpet patterns on it. Surely not whatever, I had obviously not done my homework.

Turkmenbashi Port

The ferry docked and we made our way to the train/bike-deck where we waited for about an hour while one of the strange procedures was acted out. In Baku we had experienced the idea that we won’t sell you a ticket until the customs people are happy you’ll be able to leave and now we were getting the other end of the deal we won’t let you off the boat until the passport people tell us you’ll be able to enter the country.

Eventually we were allowed onto Turkmen soil and more special procedures. Then a miracle, we spot 2 smart looking Travel Permit forms with our names on them! So somebody has been working hard for us! The amazing thing about those forms is that the only people who wanted to see them were the entry port, and none of the other police checkpoints or hotels even knew that they existed.

We started to fill in forms; the Deklaratsi declaring the quantity of money and valuables we were importing, and customs forms for the bike. Then a strange gangling youth appeared and introduced himself as Daniel, our contact from the travel agency. He explained that he had been prevented from meeting us further into the customs compound because the officials didn’t like him wearing shorts and a t-shirt on the job.

Another hour or so of form filling it could have been much longer. For the first time ever we saw customs men really giving hell to locals re-entering the country all bags were completely searched one poor old dear even had her tea-bags confiscated. We were expecting the worst with our baggage we had enough supplies to keep us independent for 2 years, and all sorts of food including some salami if they found that in a Muslim state surely we’d be deported?

But luck and Daniel were with us; Daniel did a great patter about they’re harmless tourists, don’t give them a bad impression of our country. When they finally got round to looking at the bike it was about 11pm, and you could see their hearts sink when they saw how much junk we were carrying. So the customs inspection was limited to what’s in here, what’s in there? A little man was summoned from his bed to open up the port gates and we were out in Turkmenistan.

Mid-night in a strange, hot land a dodgy prospect. We had planned to go straight to a hotel (another Soviet-legacy monster), but Daniel told us that he and his dad had a little cottage about 10kms away - $10 just the job. 20 minutes later we are unloading the bike and 20 more minutes we’re eating fried sturgeon (like big cod with fat on it) and salad, all washed down with tea and vodka. Bloody hell, did we fall on our feet?! The smell of the cooking fish (or maybe the vodka) flushed out a few neighbours who spoke really good English and the party started to chug along nicely.

We learnt that Daniel worked for the state tourist board in Turkmenbashi, and commercial agencies such as Ayan use the state company when weird people like Georgie and I turn up on a boat. They also showed us (with huge enthusiasm) the kids camps that they organize in the mountains looked like hard work. Suitably chilled, fed and drunk we hit the sack.

Next day we decided to make a push for the capital Ashgabat about 600km across a flat desert. There seemed to be a few towns on the way that we might stay at, but when we passed through them, the decision to press on seemed a good one.

But first a trip to the market to do a black market currency deal. Georgie did the dirty work while I minded the bike. 20 minutes work gave us 4 times the official exchange rate. Sounds like you’re getting a good deal, but prices always relate to the black market rate, so the only thing to be said for it is you’d really get ripped off if you changed money at the bank!! Next a tank full of petrol at $0.02 per litre wow, let’s have a bath in it! Less than a dollar for a full tank sounds really good, but the Turkmen government see tourists coming and levy a fuel tax as you enter the country (we’d paid about $90 in various taxes the night before).

Turkmenistan's biggest note is worth 25 cents

Then off into the desert Georgie’s first experience of riding a bike in the desert; and it gave us the full work road signs for camels, camels, road signs for shit roads, shit roads, 44 degrees celcius, searingly hot winds from all directions, sand storms, no shade phew!!

A first taste of desert

A long day lay ahead - progress was pitifully slow (about 90kph) as the roads were so bad and we really only got going after 11am. Not good! But our spirits were high, the police checkpoints were nice to us and the change of scenery was welcome.

Caviar in a bus-stop

There’s a weird phenomenon in that region called the Caspian Depression when we arrived in Turkmenbashi, the GPS showed that we were below sea level glug, glug. And the whole area is sort of lower than it should be due to geological squeezy forces. It took us a long time to climb up above sea level to the general level of the whole country (about 200m above normal sea level).

Must be about time for my first mistake in Turkmenistan bang on cue I realize that we have traveled so far east without changing time-zone, that the sun is setting much earlier than we had planned for like an hour and half earlier SHIT! We’re going to have to do the last 70kms in the dark. But at least we have the new motorway to look forward to. Yes there it is!!

Whoo it’s a motorway Jim, but not as we know it. What a wonderful piece of design. The Turkmen highways agency has brought in the finest road builders in the region (from Iran) to build a motorway from one side of the country to another a really big job about 1500kms across shifting sands, red hot desert marshy areas. And they do put down a super-smooth slab of tarmac. Just 2 problems first is when they put down one layer of tarmac onto another, they don’t leave a nice angled ramp, but instead you get a 10cm step BANG! Imagine what it does to your suspension and spine on an overloaded bike. But that’s just a temporary problem.

The bigger problem is that there are no underpasses or bridges along the motorway, so the road is a high-speed game of dodgems, with sheep, tractors, people, camels, you name it. crossing the road, doing u-turns (forgot to mention that there are no barriers in the center. And then if the tarmac step in the center of the road is too high to allow a dodgy drive across the motorway event, people drive the wrong way along the motorway either on the hard shoulder or the FAST LANE!!!! Sometimes we faced a car in the fast lane and tractor on the hard shoulder at the same time, and sometimes neither had lights on.

And while we’re at it, let’s design another major hazard into the motorway how about a level crossing, yes that will do. Really the motorway has a level crossing for the main railway line.

At the end of that my nerves were frazzled and we still had to find a hotel.

Ashgabat is described in the Lonely Planet as the capital of a poor country, surrounded by desert and arid hills, with a camel market frequented by nomads in funny hats. So I imagined an old, characterful, dusty, Muslim town like Marrakech. Not a bit of it much more like Salt Lake City hot and surrounded by deserts but with big buildings, VERY orderly traffic and expensive hotels. What I hadn’t read was that an earthquake in 1948 had gotten rid of all of the old stuff, which was replaced with standard soviet buildings

And then you start to realize that this place is completely divorced from reality. All down to the leadership of the President Saparmurat Niyasov, self proclaimed Turkmenbashi (Head of all Turkmen). It took us a while to work out what is going on but here’s the story.

In 1990/1 the Soviet Union collapsed and left all the constituent countries to their own fate. Some states descended into civil war, others suppressed political debate and became one party states, and others got round to electing parliaments who are now trying to do a better job of running things than the Russians did.

Turkmenistan held a referendum and voted to stay part of the Soviet Union, but the Russians said no really, bugger off and run your own country. So they did and went down the one party state route.

Now here is a twist that other former Soviet states don’t have Turkmenistan has lots of oil and even more natural gas, and very few people. So there is money; and will be loads money more if the surrounding countries stop fighting and allow Turkmenistan to build a pipeline to get the gas out to paying customers.

So what to do with all this money should we distribute to the people the country is 70% below the poverty level. No, sod them we’ll give them free gas, water, and electricity and they can do their own thing. So what shall we do with all this money? Let’s spend most of it on monuments to the president!! Yes what a good idea!!

And this is how the Turkmenistan (and especially Ashgabat) take on a surreal air. His fat, gormless face beams from huge portraits all over the land. There are gold-plated busts of the leader in all hotels. Every home has a picture of him. It gets worse. The country’s television channels have his profile, in gold, at the top. His cabinet meetings are televised a real treat as a bunch of stooges, yes-men all take down his every word without raising any objections.

A poster of Mr Humility

In the center of town there is a huge monument notionally to celebrate the country’s neutral status. But yes, there’s a 20m high gold statue of fat-bashy on top, and he rotates to welcome the sun in the morning and follow it round until sunset!! Really, I am not making this up. If you stand behind the statue at ANY time of day, the sun always appears to be shining out of his arse!

The tower of power with the rotating 'Bashi on top

There’s more a Presidential decree went out stating that all buildings along major thoroughfares must be clad in marble within 10 years. So a huge amount of money is being spent on changing the face of the old Soviet buildings. But I wouldn’t like to be next to those buildings when the next earthquake strikes all that marble is going to come off really easily. The state, has built a 7 lane Presidential Highway, linking the center of town with bashy’s palace up in the hills. I’ve ridden along it and it’s quite nice and very quiet, as the only thing up that way is the palace, the huge orphanage (where future civil servants are trained / brainwashed), and about 12 glitzy but empty hotels that are supposed to resemble Las Vegas.

We were gob-smacked for our 10 days in the country. Not only does the man have no humility, but more amazingly, nobody seems to mind or feel inclined to speak out. Hell anywhere normal would have people laughing at the jumped up little man. But the message of you’ve never had it so good and people’s residual ability to work the system (left over from Soviet times) is letting the strangeness continue.

I look forward to seeing how the country develops. And it makes me happy to think that I don’t have to look at the President’s face again.

Anyway, rant over for a while and back on with the travelogue.

After a day of staying in a pretty dreadful hotel (like how many cockroaches would you like for your $30?), we visited our agents and they helped us to move to the Sheraton for $50 per night (yes the hotels are desperate for business) ah air-con, a decent shower and a clean double bed makes me very happy! Mehri, one of the directors of the agency had some interesting ideas about developing desert touring in Turkmenistan. She’d recently arranged a 2 week horse-back tour for a group of British women (sounded like fun) and asked whether there would be a market for riding Ural sidecars around the desert. Phew now there’s a prospect anyone out there with really strong forearms fancy a holiday? I suggested that sidecar skills are a little out of fashion in the west, but riding enduro bikes might be fun in the deserts and mountains. So now she’s off investigating bikes and tours in places such as Morocco. If anyone out there really fancies opening up the desert touring market in Turkmenistan drop me a mail and I’ll pass your name on.

Off to the Sunday Tolkuchka Bazar and we’re surrounded by carpets, camels, sheep with hugely fat arses (the tastiest part!) and everything that people want to buy but don’t want to be taxed on. It was a really wonderful place, ranging over acres of sandy wasteland. We bought a truly huge sheepskin hat for me (which makes me look like I did when I had long hair back in the late 70’s hey man!!), a sheepskin for the bike seat and a length of suit cloth to wrap around the spare tyre to keep the sun off.

A white-beard in Tolkuchka Bazar

Simon gets a hair-bear flash-back

Fat-arsed sheep showing their tasty bits

And time to leave never, never land and head off to Mary, a town near to Ancient Merv. Merv sounded a cool place to visit at one point it had been home to more than a million people, until one of Ghengis Khan’s sons came and killed literally everyone. Merv had gone through several such ups and downs (pretty major down, having a million people slaughtered!), and now the guidebooks promised kilometers of deserted cities.

Georgie decided to miss out on the trip out to Merv, as she’d been laid low for 36 hours with food poisoning. So I went to the museum and city. And what a disappointment! Supposed to be one of the highlights of Central Asia, and all that is there are a few huge city walls made from adobe (mud bricks) and a few mausoleums. Most disappointing was the lack of romance and atmosphere. I was expecting deserted cities and what I found was farmland and grazing herds.

Ancient Merv's amazing wall of mud

So that was it, the last place to see something old and monumentally interesting in Turkmenistan and there was nothing really to see. The only tourist site in the whole country was the capital, being wonderfully, unintentionally, weird.

By now both Georgie and I had resorted to antibiotics to clear the stomach bugs (and boy did that work a treat) and we longed for the Uzbek visas to come into date. We headed off for Turkmenabat (Chardzev) next to the border. We passed up the opportunity of walking round a nature reserve in the middle of the desert looking for 1.5m lizards it sounded like a good idea in the air-con’d hotel room in Ashgabat, but something else in the 44 degree heat of the desert. We did however stop of lunch in the café nearby and read the visitors book documenting the trails of a decade of tourists and amazingly cyclists riding across the desert. They’d suffered everything from our 44 degree heat to snow-storms bunch of silly buggers, and I state that from the position of Chief Silly Bugger.

One last $6 hotel, a couple of cheap meals (to try to top up our bodies after the recent poisoning) and we’re off to the Uzbek border. It’s a strange feeling being glad to have experienced a weird place, but having no desire to stay there anymore. And it’s a much better feeling going into a relatively normal place like Uzbekistan. Georgie will tell you about that soon.

As we leave Turkmenistan England have just qualified into the last 16.