Cycle complete!
I will first have to apologise for the length of time for which you have had to wait for this next post. I assure you that had it not been for the total lack of internet in the aforementioned country and a block on many websites (including weebly and facebook) in Iran, I would have retold some of the very interesting and at times bizarre occurances of late.
And so it is that I flick back in my diary to the 5 days spent in Turkmenistan. 5 days being the most any tourist will ever be fortunate to get, and that on a Transit Visa! Considering the cost, hassle and beauraucracy involved in obtaining this I wonder how anyone could have managed to get the standard 30 day visa. From all those I talked to this visa appeared to be unattainable and instead all I met whether applying to get in or already in, were on the 5 day whistlestop tour, which I also must mention is date specific. One can only enter on the exact date given and if you overstay your exit then I dread not to think of the awful fines one could be subject to. I guess it is only fitting to begin the Turkmen adventures on this topic for no sooner was I in the immigration building and the 5 day visa was seen that I was explicitly told that I must not deviate off route, from my point of entry to my exit in Iran. To explain this further, the visa one gets is extremely specific as to the border points one enters and exits. Based on which border you enter and exit one is strictly ordered to make a beeline for your exit and to take the quickest route possible (great way to encourage tourism!) and that if you have been found to deviate off course, then you can be subject to severe fines (in and around $300.) Now it doesnt take much zooming in on google maps to realize that there arent a whole pile of roads theoughout this almost barren landscape. One road covers west to east, and two roads on opposite ends cover the north to south routes. It was the eastern latter route due south which I was ordered to stick to. Now this road itself is not in any way interesting, in fact it is devoid of any sights whatsoever except for some ancient 10th century ruins around the oasis city of Merv. Apart from that it is dreadfully dull and monotonous. At this stage my knee was still recovering and so had allowed myself the luxury of the train in order that it would recover fully for the next leg in Iran. I apologise if this sounds like I may have cheated on my round the world trip but one would fully understand if one has ever experienced knee tendonitis while cycling. Pure agony is the only way to describe it if inflammed and as I learnt in NZ it must rest or it will forever menace your every mile. Thus I was constrained to train travel, which in Turkmenistan is no bad thing unless one is unfortunate to have a bike laden with gear to lug around! And so it was that with every train journey I purchased my ticket with which I was led to believe also included my bicycle. However it was never going to be that simple in a place such as Turkmenistan. I must mention that the standard of english here is disastrous, and I only wished Id known a bit more russian which everyone was fluent in, and so would have made many conversations and especially the subequent narrative a whole pile smoother. I had managed to find a spot for the bike in the hallway of the carriage although not ideal for passers by it was still quite managable and would have passed if the conducter was in any way sympatethic. I was to learn both on this and other occassions however that turkmen train officials are nothing of the sort. After hauling the bike on he shook his head disapprovingly at me, pointed to the rear of the train and in a gruff voice shouted, "Baggage!" This I quickly realised would sum up the whole of his English vocabulary with the exception of that dreaded word "money." Of course I remonstrated with him that it was ridiculous considering the decent spot I had found for it but he was having none of it. Shouting loudly in Turkmen, which naturally attracted a crowd, he indicated he would throw me off if I didnt pay him his bribe (which was twice the price of the ticket!) By now I had enough and so called over a policeman to complain at the unfairness of it and in hand gestures, pointing, and a calculator I outlined the bribe and the injustice of it given what Id paid for in my ticket. The policeman didnt seem too surprised that a bribe was in play and insisted it be paid although he acted as the mediator between myself and the conductor after which we agreed on a suitable 'bribe' of half the original requested payment. If one has been to central asia I have a good hunch that I would not be alone in an experience of this sort or another like it, such is the soviet way. I managed to leave my bike in the capital Ashgabat while I made a 400km dash up across the desert to Turkmenistan's main attraction: a gas crater. But not just any old hole in the ground, this one had been set on fire 40 years earlier by the Soviets and was amazingly still burning away. Situated 5 miles off the main road there is a sandy track up to the crater which is only suitable in a 4X4. Most who come here do so on a tour however theyre ridiculously expensive and so instead I half hitch -hiked my way up with my sleeping bag, some food and 3L of water. The problem then was how to find my way from the main road up to the crater (it not being signposted.) Initially I had thought I would just follow the jeep track but had to throw this idea out the window when my driver overshot the track by 2 miles. I could've walked back and been sure of it, but to save time and to have a little adventuring, I decided to trust my map and compass to take me cross country over the dunes. And after a scorching 2 hour trek and minus half my water, my reward awaited me in the form of this most enormous, burning hole in the ground. It was truly a bizarre thing. Here you are peering into a hole 50 feet deep and perhaps 200 feet long in diameter, and the heat off it was just mind blowing. They nicknamed it "The Gates of Hell" and there possibly is no more an accurate description as it eerily resembles something quite unwordly. It is by night however that it really stands out for when you climb a nearby peak, the burning, red hot flames stand out vividly against the black and bleak looking desert. As I think happens to most tourists who make their way here, one could spend hours mesmerized by these seemingly eternal flames, only for the crisp, cool desert air to send you reaching for the duvets, or in my case the sleeping bag which I unrolled and began stargazing before my tired mind took rest at last. Continuing on with the theme of bizarre, the capital Ashgabat provided a few interesting things. First of all its otherwise known as the city of marble and literally everything really is white solid marble! This is of course in fitting with the the eccentrities of both its first and second dictator... sorry "President!" for life. There are meticulously well kept park galores and magnificent statues and I would almost call it pleasant if the city was not so empty. In truth I didnt see a single tourist here and was surprised when a trip to the 4th largest flag pole in the world, was also equally deserted. Yes! It has laid claim to that title and although it had been THE tallest in the world at some point, it took another eccentrically led country (North Korea) to claim the top spot and overtake them. Even the security situation is rigid and strict and with police on every corner. With this in mind you are never sure if you can take a photo of this building or that. Didnt know it was illegal but when I took a photo of one brilliantly sculptured monument, a plain clothes policeman approached me and asked for my passport. I was pretty apprehensive at handing over this as if he noticed that I had deviated off my strict route outlined by the border official, then it may mean an interrogation and a hefty fine. Thankfully it didnt come to that and he went on to direct me away from the monument and to an area that was 'less sensitive'. After the incident I thought that my straggly beard may have made him suspicious. To be honest I probably wouldnt blame him! Another eccentric oddity I noticed was on the news channel (there is only the state one run here.) Usually one would expect variety on the news but as it turned out the 3 headlines on the bulletin were surprise surprise all about the actions of the president for the day, which involved a meeting, an award ceremony and a ribbon cutting. I wonder is it like this every day here? Thre next day with my knee feeling a bit better I made for the Iranian border. There again I was apprehensive from the fact that I may be pulled up for visiting an area not outlined on my visa. However I approached the situation with a big smile on my face none of that was questioned, and after another thorough bag search I was stamped out and pedalled my way into 2km of No-Mans land. Halfway across and out of sight of the border guards, I pulled a pair of trousers out of my bags and threw them on over my shorts. I was leaving the eccentric for the strictly islamic where whole new surprises awaited me. |
The AuthorName: Daniel Ross Top Tips:
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October 2016
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