To Ashgabat - the city of love!
Monday 27 May
The horribly hard bed did its best to give me a rotten night, and broadly it succeeded indirectly. The folded up quilt did help a little, nevertheless it was just a question of slog it out. Just lay there and concentrate on sleeping. As a precautionary measure I put on my noise cancelling headphones, playing all my favourite "try and get some sleep music". Ordinarily, they have a good track record of getting me to at least doze - having been used on numerous early morning flights back from courier trips; particularly the 6am flight from Madrid to Stansted. Oh how I yearn for those trips again, but I can't shake off my pathological dislike of Real Madrid - arrogant, corporate and with the most manaña attitude to preparing downloads for me to take back to the UK; resulting in, at best 2 hours sleep.
I digress. Even "Moon Safari" by French arty farties, Air can't send me off. As the night progresses I get colder and colder - that results in trips to what the Americans call "the bathroom". Of course, our facility, which is 20 metres away, contains no bath, and isn't even really a room. It is, however, still better than had been billed by Intrepid Travel. Eventually the cold took control. The quilt had to be removed from underneath me, and used for its correct purpose. I saw 5am, and the beginning of the sunrise come, and then awoke with a bump at around 7.00. However Jeff, was kind enough to inform me that I'd clearly slept well in the period up to my alarm going off - stuff the bad night's sleep, the snoring Gold was coming back to the UK. I fully expect a Gold Post Box in my honour by the time I return to the sour old Banana Fascist State (that's the UK, not Turkmenistan, by the way!).
Breakfast was offered, but I declined. I was feeling a shade short of sprightly. At 7.30 we headed off in the 4 x 4's. It wasn't long before we veered off road and found a smaller, and significantly less Gassy Crater. That was quickly followed by a another crater, which had no burning gas, but contained water. Now I realise why on maps it says Darvaza Gas Craters (plural).
En route to Ashgabat we stop at Yerbent, a tiny rural settlement in the Karakum Desert. It really is a rustic place. A combination of shacks, yurts and enclosures where camels are kept when they're not roaming the desert, It is predictably scruffy, but life here is all about getting by, rather than aesthetics. In any case we'll get plenty bling in Ashgabat if it lives up to its billing.
There's a small school in the village and the kids are obviously very curious about us. It must be lunchtime as they're in and out of the building freely. The boys, in their uniform of black trousers and white shirts are far more confident than the girls. Wearing ankle length green dresses, the girls are equally curious but more shy. They skittle quickly across the playground trying not to look at us. Some keep poking their heads out of the school door, but as soon as we look, or point a phone or camera at them, they run away. Somehow the heads going in and out of the door remind me of a cuckoo clock.
Aly goes over to the school fence and starts to talk to the increasingly confident boys. Then Charlotte from the Girl Gang goes over. In a masterstroke of being a good traveller, she produces a wedge of postcards of London and starts giving them to the kids. They love it. What an ambassador she is. Just brilliant. Hopefully, the cards were used to make more interesting lessons in the afternoon.
We learn that the villagers live mainly from camel herding, and that they use mopeds to to check on them whilst they are largely allowed to roam wild. We'd seen plenty just doing that on our way there.
We headed into Ashgabat through the outskirts where there were lines of uniform white house and flats with green roofs.
Soon we saw the fantastic Airport terminal building off to the right. I'm really not sure what superlative to use to describe it, but I bloody love it
Onwards into "Old Ashgabat", which frankly isn't really very old at all. Consisting mainly of tarted up old Soviet buildings, that have been painted white to fit in the rest of the city.
Driving in, we passed the Olympic Sports Complex, at the heart of which is a wonderful Stadium that has the largest statue of a horse's head in the world on it. Of course, I am a bit fuddled as I simply can't remember the Ashgabat Olympics. I guess that the complex is really more of a statement of ambition. If they ever do host the Olympics they may wish to relax their entry laws into the country, and streamline the entire immigration process. Otherwise, the attendances will be as embarrassing as those at the lovely Stadium in Milton Keynes.
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A packed house at Stadium MK!
Lunch was taken at a restaurant in a huge shopping Mall - mainly consisting of Western Options and Turkish food. Sadly no Roast Beef, Windsor Sauce and Roasties washed down by gallons of Watney's Red Barrel. Whatever did happen to our once (in)glorious Empire?
During lunchtime we were able to sort out getting money. Without going into the detail of how; we managed to get 14 Manat to the $1. A mere four times the official rate. Now things seem very reasonably priced. At the official rate rate ($1 = 3.5 MNT) a litre of petrol costs $0.42, whereas at the unofficial one it's a mere $0.11. What is abundantly clear is that for locals the country runs at the unofficial rate.
In the afternoon we did a short drive around the city and got a sense of its outrageous ostentatiousness. Huge wide tree-lined boulevards with shiny white marble buildings. Big squares with huge monuments and flagpoles, and roundabouts with outlandish statues and sculptures. I absolutely loved it - it was everything I expected and more. Whereas the rest of the group were still trying to grasp the craziness of it all - even those who'd been to North Korea were struggling to come to terms with the place.
There really has to be a parallel with North Korea, not least due how unwelcoming and secretive Turkmenistan is. Additionally, the poor human rights records, über-authoritarian rule and total lack of genuine democracy bear comparison. Moreover, the biggest reason for the two countries being mentioned in the same breath is due to the way they have allowed their leaders to develop "cult of" status. North Korea with Kim Jong Un and King Jong II. Turkmenistan initially had Saparmurat Niyazov who was, frankly, as mad as a box of frogs! Not content with banning Opera, Circuses, ruling that all cars had to be white, his piece de resistance was changing the names of months, and days of the weeks to the names of members of his family. There's so much more - you can read here:-
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saparmurat_Niyazov#Decrees_and_laws
Fortunately Niyazov was followed by the slightly (only slightly) more moderate Gerbanguly Berdimuhamedov. Although he has repealed most of the maddest laws of his predecessor, he too sought to develop a cult-like personality. He allowed (through a free and fair democratic election) his son to take over the reigns two years ago (a mere 98% of teh poll for him). It's clear that Dad still holds great swing. The pursuit of "cult deity" has not diminished. The statues, pictures and iconography of the 3 post-independence Presidents are absolutely everywhere. I'll be honest, that was part of the attraction of going there. Ideologically, regimes of this ilk are rightly open to huge criticism, however, evidence of what happened in post-Saddam Iraq and post-Gadaffi can give cause for debate. I'll leave it that!
Anyway, Ashgabat is an utterly absurd, unique and totally odd place, and I'm glad to have been there. Just to add kudos to the rogue factor; looming high behind the city were the mountains that formed the border with another another perceived pariah state, Iran, just 30 kilometres away. A country that no doubt is a threat to peace in the Middle East, but is also questionably much maligned and misunderstood. If you want to understand my comment there more, read any of renowned BBC World Correspondent, John Simpson's musings on the country.
We traipsed around the National History Museum, but by the time we got there my series of bad night's sleep had caught up with me, and "Museum Legs" arrived even more quickly than usual. Heathen! Our guide round the museum left no detail uncovered as we went from 100's of years BC back in time through to the 19th century. All very informative, but it just wasn't landing with me.
Strangely, she didn't bother talking us around the ground floor displays which were mainly about Soviet times, and since the country's independence in the early 90's. That would have been far more appealing to me, but as I say, I am a cultural heathen.
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Finally we got to our hotel - given its proximity to the Olympic Complex, the name Hotel Sport was quite appropriate. You won't be surprised to know that it was a shade different from a Blackpool B & B. Exceptionally bling-ey (no such word I know), a sea of white, gold, high ceilings and crystal chandeliers. My room was huge and followed the gold and white colour scheme. However, all that glitters is not necessarily gold - just half a loo roll, a kettle and no tea/coffee, an empty mini bar, one tiny glass and no bottle of water. Unimpressive. It did however offer access to what they call the internet i.e. not a lot, and certainly no social media applications or email beyond Gmail to Gmail.
Dinner was taken back at the shopping mall just over the road. When we emerged from the Mall after dark, all the surrounding buildings were floodlit with flashing light displays. Vegas, you've got a bizarre and less often visited competitor.
Tomorrow, a detailed tour of what they'd like us to see in Ashgabat (i.e. not the Presidential Palace or any Government Buildings), and to the ancient ruins at Nisa. We're also meant to be doing a bit of a tour after dark to see the full extent of the lighting that they want us to be impressed by. Let's hope for a rare good night's sleep in the meantime.
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