Topic: Central Asia
Turkmenistan
This place was defiantly not what I thought. I’m thinking, Stan’s vibe, with a healthy dose of nutty communist monarchy. Maria has been checking the web, no makeup allowed, all cars must be white, no photos, and a pile of other crazy laws. It’s going to be interesting.
Back to reality. Our guide Denis meets us before we get through customs. This place only gets ten thousand tourists a year, most people who apply don’t even get a visa. You can’t come here unescorted, guide-and driver are compulsory . Ours is a Russian Indiana Jones style fixer. First cash, we hand over $160 USD for a visa, Covid test, and something else I forget. Fill out a few forms in some language, just tick the same boxes. Get escorted past the X-ray machine, while Denis chats to the guards. At the bag check he asks us if we have any drugs or guns. Only for Personal use. No need for this then as he waves off the bag checkers, and herds us out the door to our new country..
Turkmenistan is one of the world’s largest gas producers. Mostly flat desert, the main thing to see in the country is an industrial accident that happened in 1973. The “Gates of. Hell” was created when a soviet drill crew stuffed up releasing a free flowing stream of gas into the air. Can’t have that, we will just set it on fire and it will burn itself out. Fifty years later it’s still going. Funnily enough it’s in the middle of nowhere, and we are only on the edge of nowhere. More about that later.
Köneürgench, is part of the ancient world, or at least it would be if Genghis Khan hadn’t killed all the inhabitants and destroyed the place in the 12 century. It’s a standard town with some new buildings, Nothing remarkable. That still leaves time to build a few mosques and morsaliums to take some pics of. Maria is happy the ladies are wearing make up, jewellery and showing some flesh. First off we head to a big supermarket to get some supplies. The local currency is Minets. If you are a foreigner you are forced to change it at a rate of 4.5 to the dollar. Buy any thing on a card or get money from the bank you get the offical rate. There is a dollar black market if you can find it where they will give you 19. That would make most things extremely cheap, but we are not into that.
We are starting at one side of the country and driving to the Capital on the other side. The Gates of Hell, more comonaly known as the gas crater is in the centre. The road there is un drivable, what’s more is it’s the main north south road. It takes all day to get there. Demetri shouts us lunch, some fresh local pies, a couple each, and some for him and the driver. Under five dollars for the Lot. We fill up the tank of the land cruiser. Six dollars. See Australia this is what happens when you don’t give all your gas away for nothing. Back to the terrible road. Just before sunset we pull off onto a sand side track, Fifteen minutes later we are at our yurt camp for the night, and the crater is just over the hill. The timing is perfect, the sun is just about to set. As we walk over the hill we see two huge drill rigs being set up. Fifty years later gas is worth something, and rumour has it that by the end of the year the gas crater will be no more. I’ve seen burning dirt in other parts of the world but the crater is truly amazing. As you get near it you can feel the heat pouring out. A good healthy dose of Kodak poisoning is applied over the next hour as the sun sets. A thousand pics later we wander back to our camp, our driver has prepared a fantastic meal from our supermarket shop earlier. We drink some good local vodka, and contemplate the universe while watching the stars. “Gates of Hell” tick.
Early start the next morning. Our camp is basic, no showers, drop loo. Time to head to the capital. A couple more burning dirt stops on the way. The road has advanced from un drivable, to just terrible, then to good, then to billard table perfect. We stop and get the car’s washed, no dirty cars allowed in Ashkabat. Also no coloured cars. No coloured buildings either. This place is polished to within an inch of its life. We drive past gleaming monuments, and whiter marble buildings, kept clean by old ladies sweeping the streets with straw brooms. Wide thoroughfares, perfect for tank parades, grand and gold statues of the past dear leader, or Turkmen poet.
There is a bit of a problem with our hotel. It seems the dear leader has cancelled our booking and,closed all the five star hotels, and they only do five star. Apparently you can do this when you are a god. Another hotel has eventually been found for us, austere, Intourist vibe, with rooms you seem to rent by the hour. The beds good, the shower works, so is the breakfast the next morning. I don’t think they normally do breakfast. We get dumped at the local shopping centre for lunch, Demetri has to go. Plenty of fake fashion and flesh on display here. The Melbourne Cafe is good, food here is cheap. Coffee and cake even cheaper. We check out our original hotel on the walk home, it’s magnificent, guest free, and unavailable for the next two weeks. We walk home ,and find a great bar at the rear of our flea pit.
Next day we move. This is more our style. The reception is dripping gold. It has luxury rooms, all the toys, cheap beer, and open internet. Google, instagram, facebook are unavailable here. But not at this hotel. We head off with Demteri to tour the town. God is a big lover of the Guinness book of records. If you want to build something here just make it big enough and you will get the cash. We see the Worlds biggest indoor Ferris wheel, the world’s largest poet statue, the world’s largest, monument to the bicycle. I think you get the picture. At night all the buildings are lit making the austere city wildly colourful. As a sparky, l can only think about the world’s biggest led strip replacement that’s going to happen in the next five years. The next day while the guys head off to some more big things, Ern, and I hang by the pool with a few beers. I’m mosqued out, and a nice hotel seems too good to leave. Later we get dumped at the airport, which is shaped like the world’s largest bird. They want us out of here. I heard the day after we left Vladimir Putin, and the Iranian president rocked up for a meeting, hence the rush.
