Travels with Kathryn

So, today (for transparency, this was written in “real time” but can only be published now I have left Turkmenistan and am no longer in a country where SO MANY internet sites are blocked including anything blogging, social media related) we travelled the short distance from Khiva to Khodheyli to cross the border into Turkmenistan. We waved goodbye to our guide Johnny (having a 3 day gig was probably not great for him) and first “left” Uzbekistan, which was very easy and took all of 5 minutes. We then walked across no-man’s-land towards a large gate which was closed, seeing no one around, we bravely pushed it open and proceeded to a young army man at the next gate who asked to see our passports and letters of invitation (“LOI”)  which after his momentary confusion regarding who went with which passport and LOI we were allowed through. At this point, we were stood with a huddle of people on a dusty path looking rather confused as to what would happen next. Eventually a bus (an elderly bus) pulled up, we squeezed on (which upset a local family who were trying to load themselves and there many many items of luggage) and we were bused about 500m to the terminal. Here the fun begins. So, there was a line of geriatric Americans/Canadians who were queing up for a PCR test, and they informed us this was the first step. This took a little time as locals take priority (which I understand when dealing with elderly foreigners!), when it was my turn, I handed over my passport and LOI and a man glanced a cotton swab up each nostril and then dabbed it onto a Covid tests. The tests were all lined up and all, amazingly, were negative – this is most definately a little earner for the government, so best not to ask questions. We then proceeded (side-stepping the geriatrics) to the “Bank” window assuming we needed to pay the $40 for for the privilege of our Covid test, but we were sent to the “VISA” window – he batted away our passports and LOIs and asked the name and contact details of our Turkmenistan guide which, obviuosly, we did not have. There was some gesturing and we think that our local guide was going be summoned – luckily about 10 minutes later a man in an Intrepid t-shirt arrived. Hurrah! This was Ali, and he was indeed our tour guide. He then took over, and we first were directed to the “Bank” window. Unfortnately, the geriatrics were queuing up by this time, and they took AGES – note to everyone DO NOT TRAVEL with a Candian company called Undiscovered Destinations unless you are over 75 and generally pretty decrepid. There was some queue jumping by locals, and if I could have, I would have. Having handed over $140 and being given a handful of receipts (handwriten obviously) I could then return to the VISA window, be given our visa, give receipt to the PCR Test man, through a scanner, final gate where passport and LOI was checked again and then FREEDOM (or as much freedom as one could expect in Turkmenistan). Huge credit to Intrepid here, the border has obviously decided that the need for foriegn tour groups to be accompanied starts here and only Ali was able to come into the border area (which requires special permission) and I really do not think you could do it without a local. He even helped other people who did have guides, but their guides were not allowed through.

Safely across the border, Ali gave us some pocket money as we would not be able to exchange money until Ashgabat and we loaded into our 4WD to get us across the desert to the Daraza crater via the UNESCO World Heritage site of Konye Urgench.

Konye Urgench is all that is left of a 12th century Seljuick city. It was the capital of the province at the time, and in 1221 Gengis Khan sent his ambassodor to the city and offered them a deal – pay off Gengis, and the horde would pass you buy. Rather than just saying no thank you, we’ll take our chances, the city slaughtered the ambassador. Big mistake. Huge. In retaliation, Gengis Khan and his hoard of merry men flattened the city and killed everyone they could find, they then broke the dam flooding anyone left. The city went from around 1 million inhabitants to zero. This had consequences not only for this city, but the whole of this region, as at the time Gengis Khan had been debating whether to sack this region or head south. As I said, big mistake.

The city was later rebuilt only to be destroyed by Tamerlaine. What is interesting here (as to be seen across in Uzbekistan), is that very little has been reconstructed so you do get more of a sense of what happened after the 14th century – essentially, Turkmenistan when back to a nomadic lifestyle and cities were left to crumble. Most of the few buildings that survived were then destroyed by the 1948 earthquake (more on this later). Even though only ruins remain, you can still get a sense of what the city would have been like during the time of the Silk Road – I did some riding in on my camel imagining anyway.

What we can see today are a few masoleums and a minaret. The biggest masoleum was built for the wife of Tamerlaine (post Gengis) – the interior dome has 365 stars and works as a calendar, with each representing a day of the week. There is also a 60m tall minaret, again, claiming to be the highest in Central Asia. If you ask me someone (mentioning no names!) added a couple of meters (you can see the top looks a wee bit wonky) to get to the 3m over the minaret in Bukhara.

There are also 2 masoleums built pre-Gengis, but left by the Hoard as (we have learnt) than even when it came to TOTAL enilalation, he generally didn’t bother with masoleums. One of these (with the conical roof) was built for the sultan (and used during his lifetme as an administrative office) who ruled over the area where Rumi’s father (Rumi being the famous Turkish poet and founder of sufism) is from, and I can see where Rumi got his hat inspiration from:

As I mentioned above, we were travelling this part of the journey in a 4WD and as we got deeper into the desert the need for this became clear. 85% of Turkmenistan is desert, and to reach the Darvaza Crater, we would be crossing it on what is quite possibly, the worst road I have ever been on in my life.

The road itself (or potholed, cratery, occassionally tarmaced line) has another gravel strip running alongside it which was generally less hair raising. I did reflect on what I would do if we were flipped over and my plan involved saving Ali first as he had a working phone and could speak the language. Also, we were not the only vehicles using this road, there were huge lorries, but even they were taking it very steady… However, we did see camals roaming about which gave me definate Silk Road vibes.

It was nearly 9pm when we arrived at the Darava Crater. In 1979 some Soviet geologists were drilling and came across a gas deposit, and decided to burn it off, its still burning. In the desert night, it is a truly amazing site and certainly deserving of its nickname The Gates of Hell.

There are plans to close it in December (with help from US) and getting close to it you can feel the heat, and just smell the amount of gas being released. In a way it would be a shame as it is a site to behold, and kind of sums up what I feel about a number of “attractions” in Turkmenistan, amazing, but just a little bit wierd.

Nearby, there are two less impressive craters (although to be fair, even the Darava Crater is pretty average by day), the mud crater (meh) and the water crater (slightly less meh).

That night I had my last stay in a yurt camp (for this trip anyway). We had been warned this was a “basic” camp with no facilities, and whilst there were no marble bathrooms, there were flushing toilets and real beds in the yurts. BBQ dinner was served at up to a table and chairs, as was breakfast watching the sunrise over the dunes. A delightful end to our first day in Turkmenistan, and not a geriatric in sight.