TSJAP On Tour: Crossing Turkmenistan: A country which seems to be a big accident.

Crossing Turkmenistan

We enter Turkmenistan through a big gate. First thing I do is taking off the head scarf and the long clothes, back in shirt and shorts, great.
Turkmen officials seem nice and welcoming, they will show us soon that this first impression is wrong. A huge picture of the present Turkmen president greets us from a wall and we have a look at the colourful flag, composed by patterns of carpets from the five big families of the country.
We are almost alone, the last western tourists have passed this border 20 days ago, two young men we had already met in Teheran. We get our passports stamped, pay an entrance fee, exchange money and all we need now is the permission for the car to enter the country. That will take us more than four hours, handwritten notes in five different offices, 170 Dollars for five days of car insurance, controls of every single thing we carry with us and at the end I find myself screaming at one of the officials shaking a cigarette out of his hand... And last but not least a couple of days later we will find out that things from our toolbox were stolen during the controls. What a nightmare.

We have visa for five days, transit through this country is all we want. When planning the trip I had asked for tourist visa and was told, that this would cost 100 Dollar per person, plus 100 Dollar per person (so times five for us) per day (!) for a guide that would be with us; no other way to travel in this country. With transit visa we are at least allowed to travel on our own. It is clear from the beginning: this country does not welcome foreigners.

Finally after nerve cutting discussions, screaming and yelling they leave us alone and let us pass. We drive some 40 km through the mountains passing several gates and more controls until we get a first sight on the capital of Turkmenistan: Ashgabat.

View on Ashgabat.

All of it's sudden this gate. Nothing before nothing behind.

It is all white. 1948 the city was hit by a point 9-Richter-Scala earthquake and more than 100 000 people died, the whole city was destroyed. Soviets rebuilt the city from scratch, with huge boulevards and parks.
In the last twenty years the city has changed its face again totally. I don't know how to describe this: it is all white marble palaces, a lot of golden roofs, glowing totally empty streets, and so clean that you could eat from the asphalt. It is so surreal, that I have this laugh of disbelieve choking me while we drive through the empty boulevards. Torsten says, it is like Disneyland, but without people.

Boulevards are too big to walk, distances are enormous. We don't know what to do and decide to do some cruising. We drive by huge lanes with white palaces, some of them seem to be apartment houses. We pass the Carpet Ministry and the Ministry of Fairness (!) with Justicia in front. Her eyes are not covered and she carries the face of the mother of the president. If it wasn't so sad, it was to laugh out loud.
At every corner there is a policeman. The wheels of the cars squeak when driving because the asphalt is smooth like marble. That's the Ashgabat sound. This city would make a perfect scenery for a James-Bond-movie: 007 speeding down the huge boulevards, passing all the white palaces; show down at the statue of Turkmenbashi, the father of all Turkmens, that has the form of a rocket. His golden statue turns in 24 hours once around himself and the sun...
We see the Research Center for the Ruhnama. This is a book like the Mao- Bible in China, written by the president, putting in all his 'wisdom' to teach his people. It is full with nationalism and chauvinism, designed to fill the post-soviet vacuum of a missing Turkmen identity. Every school child has to study it, even to get certain permissions of daily life, as for example a drivers licence, knowledge of this book is necessary and tested. In one of the parks we see a huge book in pink and green, the Ruhnama statue. I will not forget to mention, that all western companies that want to do business with Turkmenistan have helped with the translation of this book, Zeppelin helped with the German translation.
And there is water everywhere. Every water fountain you can think of, pyramids, sprinklers, anything, in this desert water does not seem to be a problem.

Ashgabat: Huhu, any body there?

Ashgabat: Memorial for the Ruhnama, the 'holy' book of Turkmenistan.

Ashgabat: Straight ahead Presidential Palast
To the left the parlaiment.

Ashgabat: Impressions.

Ashgabat: Watch out when crossing the 8-lane boulevards,
there might come ... I don't know what. Just cross it!

Ashgabat: Turkmenbashy everywhere.

Ashgabat: Women wearing beautiful (!) dresses.

Ashgabat: Pavement is made in a way that tires squeak, no matter
how careful you go around the corner.

Ashgabat: Idealistic Mosaics everywhere. Old soviet style.

After one hour we have seen everything and we decide to do something nice after the terrible morning and enter a park where we have seen from outside playgrounds and roller coasters. Here we meet for the first time people and they seem friendly. It is totally different from Iran. No one approaches us asking where we are from or what our names are, no one presses Paulis cheeks. :-) We are watched, but there is also a distance. And we watch too. And sometimes I don't know where to look first, people look amazingly beautiful: Wonderful long dresses in all colours and patterns of this world, wonderful silver jewellery, high head scarfs that seem to have some kind of hat underneath. Really beautiful. Turkmenistan is known for its silver and gold jewellery in ancient patterns of the tribes and covered with red and blue gems. Apparently it is a holiday, people wear their best clothes and we look totally underdressed...;-)
The kids are happy. They play on the playgrounds, we have ice cream, coffee and coke. Later Johann and Antonia ride the roller coasters. And while we wait we have a lot of time for people watching: first thing we realise is, that everyone is very calm. There is a roller coaster that lets its passengers fly 'feet above head' and it happens that this thing swings its rounds and we do not hear one sound. No one screams or squeaks. People seem to enjoy, but they also seem very controlled. And everyone in best dresses, what a defilee.
A young lady approaches us, she speaks German and we have a nice chat. It is a strange but very nice afternoon in that park.

Ashgabat: Playground just like everywhere else.
Only a bit more colorful.

Ready for a picture.

Ashgabat: I enjoyed this one.

Ashgbat: There is someone getting excited.

Ashgabat: High in the sky above Ashgabat.

Share a Coke in Turkmenistan.

Funny names ;)

Ashgabat: Kids getting ready for the fun.

Ashgabat: Kids upside down.

Ashgabat: Look at the dress to the right - Apple Design ;)

Ashgabat: People waiting in line. It's so quiet.
They barely make any noise.

Ashgabat: Women posing together.

Ashgabat: Impressions.

Ashgabat: Colorful clothes.

We have dinner at Pizza Haus (!) and enjoy our first beer for weeks. We don't care that they want seven euros for one glass. ;-)

Ready for Pizza.

Enjoying the first beer for weeks.

Where is the food?

For the night we decide to drive to a hotel and ask for permission to park on the parking. At the outer skirts of Ashgabat, there is one lane for hotels, one after the other. The concierge of the first hotel is very friendly, but at the same time she lets us know, that we can park only near the hotel and that they will pretend of not knowing us, should police show up. That's a cold shower after the friendliness and helpfulness in Iran! Of course we have asked the hotel to help us, because we don't want to be knocked out of our beds by the police either, while parking in public. The concierge makes some phone calls, but it is clear: no one wants to take the risk of housing foreigners in an unregular way of letting them sleep in a caravan. By the way, hotel prizes would have been at 120 to 150 Dollars per person... Torsten tries another hotel, the answer stays the same. All are very friendly, but also very scared. So we decide to park in public and give it a try. The night is not very relaxing, but quiet.

Ashgabat: View from our parking place to the illuminated university buildings.

We have seen a big shopping Center of a Turkish company in the middle of town and since we have been missing any luxury for a while now, we head there to fill up stock. It is heaven on earth. :-) They have it all: Nutella, Nesquick, Italian coffee, European cheese and we can not resist. And I can tell you every single bread with Nutella will be highly appreciated, this would never have happened at home, where all this can easily be bought around the corner...;-)

Ashgabat: Look! There are two cars to left.

Ashgabat: There must be the houses where the 850.000 inhabitants of the capital live.

Ashgabat: Approach THE monument ...

... showing a golden statue of former president Niyazov turning
around the sun over the day. No comment.

Here he is.

And not to forget these poor dudes who need to guard ... I don't know what.

Ashgabat: You have to see this one.
This is ... the tallest ... free-standing ... flagstaff ... in ... the ... WORLD!

Ashgabat: National Museum. Ticket price for foreigners $10.
Ehmm .... No!

Ashgabat: Luxury Bus Stop.

Ashgabat: Houses from Soviet time are rare.

Ashgabat: Glorious fountains.

Ashgabat: This is a mall from the outside ...

... and from the inside. All clean. Something is missing: People!

Book store with many copies of the Ruhnama-Book.

Pauli happy about the fountain.

From Ashgabat we drive North towards Usbekistan. There is only one road; at the border they told us that it "is a good road". What a joke. The road is hell, when leaving Turkmenistan four days later we are totally worn out.

Impression from along the road leaving Ashgabat.

Driveway to the huge bazar.

Funny thing about the bazar: They apparently managed to bring t
he lovely busy ambience of Russian bazars in a totally clean structure.

Endless bumpy roads through the desert.

For the night we decide to stop at a little village some 50 km from Ashgabat. It is surreal: we leave the white-marble-empty-lanes-capital and find ourselves in the middle of the desert. Buildings are from now on one story high and desert brown. In the villages there are mud roads and usually two shops and one school, that's it. There is no drinking water in the villages, it has to be transported here by truck.
In Bokurdak the German ministry of development has realised a project together with locals to fight the sand dunes that threaten the houses of the farmers.
Contrary to the night in Ashgabat it is no problem for the village people that we park next to their houses. We are invited for tea and the kids play football together. After a while we hear that the kids have learned Johann's name. We will here the whole evening:"Johann! Johann!", while they play football. Johann will later say: "Wow i have never played desert-football before!" :-)
We try camel milk from the farmers.
Some kids show us the local school. No kids there, it is a holiday. For dinner the farmers bring us a bowl of meat they have cooked, it is very delicious. We have a great evening under the stars in the desert. It seems that in this remote desert village people have more of a chance to live their live than in the over controlled cities.

Bokurdak: After driving through the village ...

... people invite us to stay next to their homes for the night.

Bokurdak: Pauli making friends.

Bokurdak: We are invited for tea ...

... and camel milk. That's a new taste ...

... also for Pauli.

Bokurdak: The people like our car ...

... and they like Pauli.

Bokurdak: Johann and Antonia playing in the dunes.

Bokurdak: Pauli joining them.

Bokurdak: Camels crossing - I mean in the background.

Bokurdak: A water repository ...

... and a baking oven need to be explored.

Bokurdak: A blind women finding her way
with a ring attached to rope between the houses.

Bokurdak: Typical new house made of bricks in the village.
Three rooms, seating, oven, water repository,
AirCo, satellite dish

Bokurdak: Everything to be stored is elevated from the ground.

Bokurdak: Johann & Antonia are digging Pauli into the sand.

Bokurdak: Primary School - one building.

Bokurdak: Kids show us around.

Bokurdak: Math board at the wall looks familiar.

Bokurdak: Schoolyard.

Bokurdak: Village life.

Bokurdak: Camel in sunset. Until here I forgot
the Russian word for camel. For the next days I'll need it quite often.

Bokurdak: Chatting with our lovely 'neighbor'
who invited us to stay next to his house.

Bokurdak: Pauli fascinated by the huge sand box.

Bokurdak: There is a special dinner tonight and everyone dresses up.
She wears the typical turkmen jewellery;

Bokurdak: kids playing together.

Bokurdak: Soccer unites.

Bokurdak: An hour after arriving we hear from inside the car
kids calling 'Johann, Johann'.

Bokurdak: Antonia sharing her sweets with kids.

Bokurdak: What a lovely morning next day.
Locals tell us that we are very lucky: conditions are very hard and
hot in the summer (>50°C) cold in the winter and often sand storms.

Bokurdak: We leave our football and have to say good bye.

Bokurdak: Taking the sand road back through the village.

Great playground, Pauli excited.

Secondary school.

Mosque in the village.

A last look into the mirror.

Desert, desert, desert, a gas station, desert, desert, desert. At the gas station we buy, what will turn out to be the only souvenir from Turkmenistan: a metal coffee pot for Torsten. We don't bring souvenirs from Turkmenistan, simply because we did not see anything we could buy. To buy a carpet or jewellery needs a permission to bring them out of the country, that can take up to three days in Ashgabat...

A ground water lake in the desert.

Our view for three days.

Measures against errosion of sand.

Traces of animals in the sand.

Sometimes the road is covered from a sand drift.

Truck bringing drinking water for a village.

A touristic highlight waits for us in the evening: hell's gate. It is a huge hole in the ground in the middle of the desert that burns from leaking gas. The whole thing was an accident: some 40 years ago, when searching for gas the ground broke and gas leaked out, eventually a farmer threw a burning tire in the hole to stop that animals would fall into it. That's the whole story and today it is nice attraction, especially at night. We really enjoy being here. There are some other tourists in a tent camp. Torsten has a great time with some Turkmen guides who wait until late that night for their Bulgarian group to arrive in jeeps. Torsten' s Russian is great and opens a lot of doors. Vodka, a fire, shashlik, he enjoys all this Russian outdoor romantics. ;-)

On our way to hell's gate: We leave the highway
and have to take a sand track for some kilometers.

Hell's gate: Kids about to explore the site.

Hell's gate: Left of the hole there is Johann & Antonia.
The hole is pretty big.

Hell's Gate: Escaping gas caught fire
and forms an apocalyptic scene.

Hell's Gate: Before the gas was lit, many anymals died
artound the crater, either from falling into it or from gas toxication.
A farmer was getting tired of losing cattle and threw a burning tyre into the hole.

Hell's Gate: Ideal place to throw stones ...

Hell's gate: We are looking for a save place so we will not get
too much gas, even when winds are changing. Locals tell us that
we would have a big headache next morning if we do not choose
carefully our place to stay for the night.

Hell's gate: The color of our car however is perfect for this place.

Hell's gate: Pauli jumping from sun light into the shadow
and back into sun light.

Hell's gate: A camel close to the crater.

Hell's gate: Pauli is all dusty ...

... but happy!

Hell's gate: Dinner with a marvelous scene

Hell's gate: The crater lightens the night.

Hell's gate: The inside becomes even more spectecular after sunset.

Hell's gate: and here comes the devil. Roooaar!

When leaving next day; camels block the road.

Camels eating Saxaul, the bushes and trees,
which help to avoid sand errosions.

Another crater south of hells gate is partly flooded with water.
Gas is bubbling to the surface, where flames are dancing around.

Driving further North the road goes from very bad to absolutely terrible: one hole after the other, very deep, stripes of asphalt in between, loose rocks, sand, bridges with loose concrete, whatever you think of it is there.

On our way to Konye-Urgench: New bridge remotly standing
in the outback. Planning of the road still in progress.

On our way to Konye-Urgench: The road we have to use
is in terrible condition ...

... and it's getting worse ...

... and worse!

On our way to Konye-Urgench: Permanent barriers across
the highway at a police station. All cars need to go off-road to circle around.

On our way to Konye-Urgench: When approach this bridge
where we spot a sign that the access is forbidden.
To remind you: we are on the main North-South-Highway.
We wonder why there is this sign?

On our way to Konye-Urgench: Here the answer!

On our way to Konye-Urgench: Other bridges are in the same,
but without warning signs.

On our way to Konye-Urgench: Imagine you cross this place at night.

On our way to Konye-Urgench: Cotton is harvested and gathered
at these collection places.

We haven't seen this funny fruit before.
Maclura Pomifera (German: Milchorange)

We want to go to Konya Urgench, this ancient capital of the former empire of Khorasan used to be very famous, some traces are apparently still there and we want to visit them. There is not much left, the Sultan of Khorasan had decided to hijack a big caravane of Mongol King Dshingis Khan that was passing by and to put a point to it he let all the people kill. Tales say, that only one messenger was able to escape. Dshingis Khan pretty upset still decided to send a diplomatic mission to the Sultan to ask for the reason of the killing. And, you guess it, the Sultan also killed the diplomats. That was the end of Konya Urgench. The Mongol revenge was heavy and final. And this final state lasts until today. Some 80 km before the town the road gets so bad slowing us down to 10 km/h, that I presume that someone in Ashgabat has decided to cut off Konya Urgench from the rest of the country. With that road, no railways and the border towards Usbekistan behind, this town is isolated.
Very tired we arrive late that evening, in the dark. With the help of the moon we see some of the old mosques and what-is-left-minarets. They are hundreds of years old, but there is no illumination for them. In Ashgabat ministries of "fairness" and Ruhnama statues are flooded with light and here in this ancient capital of Khorasan there is no bulb left for any of the old witnesses.

Konye-Urgench: Timur Qutlugh Minaret

Konye-Urgench.

We want to leave early in the morning, we still have some 100 km to drive to the border. No one knows what the road is like and we have to leave the country the same day. We are tired and have this feeling of wanting to leave this country as soon as possible, so sight seeing is really short the next morning.

Konye-Urgench: Graveyard next to
Turabek Khanum Mausoleum in the dawn.

Konye-Urgench: Portal of Turabek Khanum Mausoleum.

Konye-Urgench: Dome of Turabek Khanum Mausoleum.

Konye-Urgench: Wooden window grid
of Turabek Khanum Mausoleum.

Konye-Urgench: Turabek Khanum Mausoleum.

Konye-Urgench: Turabek Khanum Mausoleumduring sunrise.

Konye-Urgench: Sultan Ali & Nedjmeddin Kubra Mausoleum.

Driving goes better today and we arrive around ten in Dashoguz. On our way we have seen a lot of school children. The girls in long green dresses, with flat hats on their head and braided hair; the boys with black pants, white shirts and black flat hats, all very nice and neat. So we decide to give it a try after breakfast and knock at the door of a school.

On our way to Dashoguz: Young ladies in school uniform.

On our way to Dashoguz: More kids going to school.

It is a big school and at the entrance we meet some teachers, all in best dresses and suits, again we see the typical jewellery and head scarfs. We explain who we are, we have post cards and our own schoolbooks in our hands. Not long and the director of the school appears and let's us know that he can not let us in the school without the permission of the regional director of schools. He sends us with the English teacher to the nearby administration of schools in teh district. When we arrive we are told that the director is for three days in Ashgabat. From one office to the other no one wants to take the decision to let us visit the school for ten minutes. Head shaking everywhere, all very friendly, but again this choking angst everywhere. And we understand it is not about us disturbing the lesson, it is us being foreigners and someone taking the decision and the responsibility for us. So we take some pictures of posters in the administration and a picture with the English teacher in front of the picture of the president. And then it is time to leave. With our last border experience in mind we enter the border area. But this time we find correct and friendly officers. It takes long, they take a look underneath every seat, but it's ok this time. And interestingly they are not surprised at all when we tell them that there have been things stolen from our car at the border near Ashgabat.... And again we are almost alone in the border area, there is no border traffic between the two countries, every one is isolated for himself.

Turkmenistan: I liked the friendly people, but besides there is no need to ever come back.

Dashoguz:Awarded students in the district school administration.

Dashoguz: picture in the district school administration.

Dashoguz: After our inquiry was turned down
we take at least a picture with the English teacher
in front of a portrait showing President Berdimuhamedow.