Kazakhstan (Part 1)
Kazakhstan (Part 1)July 2008
Day 12 - Wednesday July 23rd (cont) Once the vehicle was on board, we watched while two men attempted to load three long heavy metal gas pipes onto the ferry using a forklift and a trolley. Needless to say it all ended in tears and the pipes all fell off and scattered on numerous occasions.
We grabbed what we thought we’d need for the ferry ride which we anticipated to be up to 20 hours. So it was snacks, wine, beer, lemonade, water, books, Kazakhstan information, sleeping bag, wash bag, towel. We wouldn’t be allowed to get to the Disco once we left it.
We had our passports taken from us and were allocated cramped cabins. Ours had 2 bunk beds with bare sheets and a sink. Guess what, the ‘Grim Reaper’ had also been given a bed in our cabin. How my heart sank.
We all met on the upper deck in the breeze, drinking beer and wine and congratulating ourselves that we had finally escaped Baku. We watched the pink/scarlet sunset and the boat still hadn’t moved. I crashed on the upper deck until the cold temperatures awakened me at 3am and I realised that we still hadn’t left the Baku port! I returned to my bed, couldn’t sleep for the midges biting my body and returned to the upper deck and slept outside. We discovered later that we had to wait until a ferry which had arrived after ours, had left, before our ferry could leave. Interesting logistics.
Day 13 – Thursday July 24th Sunrise and we are still in Baku! The boat finally left at 7.10am. It was a smooth crossing. We spent the day reading, sunbathing in 40’C temps and comparing possible routes. The F7F7 and Water Aid teams decided that they would cross Kazakhstan and head north to Russia. Tom/Kerr, the Subaru Team and ourselves were still determined to head south to Uzbekistan.
The day dragged on. We passed endless oil rig platforms in the Caspian Sea (producing all that oil for Kazakhstan). There was nowhere to sit so we sprawled on the deck. There were no showers for the passengers, but the boat crew had one which they locked after use. I discovered that Tom/Kerr had a basic shower in their cabin and took advantage. Trev was more concerned with his suntan turning a horrendous red. There were only 2 toilets available as well. Customer Support was minimal. No one spoke English but the crew all had decent rooms, showers and meals. The passengers? Well, fuck ‘em.
Sunset. We knew we would still be sailing overnight. I slept in the bed tonight.
Day 14th – Friday July 25th
At 4am, I heard the anchor drop. At last. From the upper deck, I could see the lights of Aqtau, Kazakhstan. Most people were still asleep. It was still dark. I assumed that we would enter the harbour at dawn. Wrong!
By now, Trev and I had drunk all the booze, eaten all our food and were left with just water. We returned to a deck, hid in the shade from the sun/heat and read books. Hours passed. No movement. Rumours went around the boat that we would dock at 3pm. We were completely paralysed. Grubby, bored beyond belief and feeling completely helpless as another day slipped by out of our control.
Finally at 4pm, the boat started to move towards the harbour. Then there was a scramble to get our passports and the expectation that we would have to pay extra for our cabins. But the passports were returned with no surcharges.
Around 5.30pm we were allowed to disembark. The ferries across the Caspian Sea had a reputation for underhanded moves such as cutting fuel lines and charging people for the leaked gas on the deck. But we had no problems. Maybe 5 vehicles outnumbered the attraction of scamming some extra dollars.
We had to wait until while two men attempted to unload three long heavy metal gas pipes off the ferry using a forklift and a trolley. Needless to say it all ended in tears and the pipes all fell off and scattered on numerous occasions.
Once we got the vehicles off, we discovered that we wouldn’t be allowed to leave the port until tomorrow, because the Customs Officers had all gone home. Bless. Initially they said we would all have to stay with our vehicles overnight but eventually relented. We had been stamped into the country so we could leave the port without the vehicle. Welcome to my 103th country.
The other teams said they would camp by their vehicles. I couldn’t see the point. There was a large town nearby, we had just had two crappy nights on the ferry. I preferred to check the town out and then come back if I found nothing.
I noticed that a local bus had rolled up into the port. I asked around and discovered that buses did come from the town and that one would be arriving soon. I was going to wait by the port gate, but the other teams decided they would check out the town as well and we all ended up walking down the road from the port – all 14 of us. The bus came past from the port and didn’t stop. Bugger. The others gave up and walked back to their vehicles.
I suggested to Trev that we walk to the next bus stop and wait. Meanwhile I stuck out my thumb at every passing car and the second one stopped. The driver didn’t speak any English but indicated to jump in. He drove us past local beaches packed full of people, tents and BBQs in the early evening. It looked wonderful.
Our Samaritan dropped us at a bus stop and indicated that we could get a bus into town which we did. It was a short ride to the Hotel Aktau – one of those Russian type hotels. We were dropped outside. We got two single rooms with hot showers, fridge, TV (with BBC World/CNN) and air con. After two days and nights on the ferry it was absolute luxury even if it did cost #163;32 each. It was worth it!
We took a stroll around the area. Beautiful girls walked past in attractive dresses. No one bothered us. We passed a local shop and popped in for beers. The attractive shop girl could speak a little English. We were just glad to get ice cold beers down our neck at cheap prices. (I was so impressed, I went back later for more supplies). We could have entered the ‘Guns and Roses’ bar/restaurant near our hotel, but we opted for the mobile kitchen for pizzas and crepes which were excellent. We liked this town – a lot. People were friendly and smiled. The girls were stunning and more relaxed than those in Baku. They could wear what they wanted and took advantage of this.
We took full advantage of our air conditioned rooms, hot showers and caught up on the world news. Beer and lemonade were chilled in the fridge for later use. Whatever the price, we were glad not to be sleeping outside the vehicles like the others. Call us lightweights but you’d have done the same if you’d stayed in this town at this hotel after that ferry ride. Why compromise?
In the literature left in the room was a statement which said “In purpose of your safety, in the hall of the hotel are installed systems of the video observation”. Pure Borat.
Background on Kazakhstan.
Currently, Kazakhstan only means one thing to people: the Borat movie whereby an English comedian pretends to come from there and portrays himself as a celebrity from somewhere no-one has heard of. It’s not surprising why when you know its history which is essentially that the Russian empire tried to remove its existence from the map leaving it as a vast expanse of nothingness in which to test their nuclear military hardware. Radioactivity is still a problem is many places and we discovered that our compasses did not work in Kazakhstan.
The Lonely Person’s guide says it is “A bewitching, dream-like landscape for those with a taste for the esoteric. If you're not a fan of endless semi-arid steppe and decaying industrial cities, Kazakhstan may seem bleak.” It’s wide open spaces and occasional lunar landscapes, more than make up for this. For starters, the country is nearly four times the size of Texas. We are talking big.
The CIA webpage summarises Kazakhstan history as “Native Kazakhs, a mix of Turkic and Mongol nomadic tribes migrated into the region in the 13th century, but were rarely united as a single nation. The area was conquered by Russia in the 18th century, and Kazakhstan became a Soviet Republic in 1936. During the 1950s and 1960s agricultural "Virgin Lands" program, Soviet citizens were encouraged to help cultivate Kazakhstan's northern pastures. This influx of immigrants (mostly Russians) skewed the ethnic mixture and enabled non-Kazakhs to outnumber natives. Independence in 1991 caused many of these newcomers to emigrate”.
Kazakhstan, the largest of the former Soviet republics in territory, excluding Russia, possesses enormous fossil fuel reserves and plentiful supplies of other minerals and metals. It also has a large agricultural sector featuring livestock and grain. Kazakhstan's industrial sector rests on the extraction and processing of these natural resources.
The CIA webpage concludes “Kazakhstan's economy is larger than those of all the other Central Asian states combined, largely due to the country's vast natural resources and a recent history of political stability. Current issues include: developing a cohesive national identity; expanding the development of the country's vast energy resources and exporting them to world markets; achieving a sustainable economic growth; diversifying the economy outside the oil, gas, and mining sectors; enhancing Kazakhstan's competitiveness; and strengthening relations with neighbouring states and other foreign powers.”
With a population of around 15.3 million people (average income $11,000) of which 47% are Muslim and 44% Russian Orthodox in religion, it has major deposits of petroleum, natural gas, coal, iron ore, manganese, nickel, cobalt, copper, molybdenum, lead, zinc, bauxite, gold, and uranium. Arable land accounts for only 8% so the country relies on its natural resources.
Not many people know this, but the apple and the Tulip originated in Kazakhstan. The Romans discovered the apples which were originally up to a kilo in weight (per apple). The Dutch discovered the tulip and exported it to Holland to become a major flower export.
Currently, the country is run by President Nazarbayev, pretty much as a police state. There are police check points everywhere. We would discover this later.
Day 15th – Saturday July 26th
We had a relaxed start with the BBC World News and an all you could eat breakfast (in with the price) of fried eggs, salami, vegetables, bread, slightly the worst for wear cakes and wonderful milky coffee.
We asked reception about the bus we needed for the port and they told us it was a Number 4. A teenage member of staff took us to a bus stop. Buses came and went on a regular basis but no number 4. After asking a couple of locals if a Number 3 went to the port and who replied yes, we jumped on a number 3 bus which took us the wrong way for 30 minutes but at least we saw more of the town (local monuments etc). The traffic was well behaved and they stopped at the traffic lights.
At the end of the line, we explained to the female bus conductor where we wanted to go. We ended up going back to the hotel and were told to catch a bus on the other side of the hotel. Thanks kid, that was a useful hour spent on buses going nowhere we wanted to go.
The bus we were looking for, finally took us to the port. Arriving at 10am, 90 minutes after planned, we found the other four teams parked by an office. They were still waiting for the bureaucrats to open which made us feel a lot better about our morning so far. When the office (port-a-cabin) did finally open, it took 30 minutes to process a team and other people from neighbouring countries continually jumped in front.
While we were waiting, a customs official had a nose around our vehicle and asked if Trev’s war novels were ‘terrorism’ because of all the explosions on the covers. I had small box of ‘bribes’ – old watches, camera film, false Gucci after shave. I opened up the box, offered him his pick and he turned up his nose. He was more interested in our first aid box with the paracetamol
tablets. ‘Drugs?’ he asked.
Eventually he walked off, but we were no further forward with the paper chase. The port-a-cabin closed for lunch. From other teams, we learnt we needed to get other stamps from other offices at the port. So we walked around to try and find the unmarked/hidden offices and finally found them for those all important stamps to the paperwork. We discovered later that one office had stamped us to say we had no fruit/veg and was completely useless for getting our vehicle out.
The all important official came back to his port-a-cabin after his all important lunch and dealt with the rest of the teams including Trev, who as the driver had to do the queuing. As soon as the other teams had their paperwork in order, they were gone – only be stopped at the port gates by more officials who doubled checked all the bits of paper.
We escaped around 4.30pm. Thanks. Over 6 hours and essentially another day lost. Our previous introductory evening of how wonderful Kazakhstan was, had been destroyed by the petty, inefficient, police state bureaucracy.
Aktau with a population of around 166,000 is "stuck between the desert and the Caspain, hundreds of kilometres from anywhere else, with all its water derived from desalination."(LP). It was started in 1958, when uranium and oil were found in the vicinity and also developed as a Soviet holiday resort (hence the beaches we saw yesterday).
Downtown in Aktau, we checked out the MIG fighter monument and headed out of town, stopping at a garage to fill up. They ask you how much you want and you pay in advance. We didn’t know and took a guess, having forgotten the cheapness of the petrol. What we offered in cash was worth 160 litres (oops) and they indicated ‘I don’t think so’. There was lots of shouting between the pump attendant and the cashier before she programmed the pump for the right amount.
Once outside Aqtau, we came across occasional dusty villages on a tarmaced road but it was already a world away from the westernised city we had just left. The mostly sealed roads deteriorated with deep ruts across flat barren steppes. A low lying set of hills lay on the horizon under a vast blue cloudy sky. When we reached these hills, they turned out to be quite spectacularly weathered grey rocky cliffs looking across the wastelands of the Ustyurt Plateau (nicknamed by Trev as ‘The Plateau we can’t pronounce.’) The first camels of our trip appeared, by the side of the road or crossing it. They were mostly shy animals and stayed clear of us.
An ominous sign appeared: “Attention! The Dangerous Section.” We were not sure what was in store. Had the road disintegrated into a dust storm? Were there bandits hidden in the rocks? Did rabid, marauding camels attack vehicles? I have no idea. Nothing changed. The road was still sealed and empty and camels still shuffled around. A massive herd of goats crossed the road, but that was hardly dangerous either. We started to pass what looked like miniature villages on the hills near the road. When we went to check one out, we discovered that they were family mausoleums in cemeteries. Some looked quite imposing from a distance while others were half built. We also came across a dead camel (camel road kill ?).
As the sun began to set, neighbouring cliffs to our left were lit up and glowed in brilliant white. Then the sealed road disappeared and we were onto flattened dusty dry mud with large ruts and then just rocky surfaces which twisted their way over or between the hills. It was really rough driving and would give the other teams a dilemma.
We were travelling on a ‘main road’ on the map. If this was the state of ‘main roads’, then it would be a long painful slog across Kazakhstan to reach the Russia. Alternatively, the only other route was to Uzbekistan via the non-existent road south east. How bad would that be, if it was already this bad. Would anyone’s tyres or suspension survive either route? We laughed when we saw a road sign that indicated 145km to Beyneu and 472km to ‘Dosser’ (this is slang for a lazy bastard in the UK)
Putting that dilemma aside, we pushed onto the first (and only) major town of Beyneu. Darkness fell at 10pm and we had to negotiate the awful unsealed track with just our poor headlights. We originally wanted to avoid night driving, but it was either push on and hope for a hotel or find somewhere to pitch tents in the middle of nowhere. We estimated the distance to Beyneu at under 30 miles and decided to brave the endless potholes which peppered the road. You could hardly see them at night so it was a bit like Russian roulette with the path you steered. Consequently, our backsides took a battering. It was very tiring driving especially with oncoming headlights blinding us.
The patchy lights of Beyneu appeared. We saw a garage with two small battered European cars with ‘Mongol Rally’ stickers. These were rivals from the other event and surprisingly, they were from Spain. We saw them cross the railroad lines and guessed they were heading for Uzbekistan.
Since it was after 11pm and we had already done enough rough driving, it was time to find somewhere to stay. I spotted a policeman and asked for a hotel. He pointed down the road, indicated right and said ‘Apha’. I had to keep saying it to remind us. Further along, we found a right hand turn off and asked a local family ‘Apha Hotel?’ and made the ‘laying head down on your hands to indicate sleeping’ gesture. The plump and jolly husband pointed down the road and that we had to take some kind of small road to the right to find it behind other buildings.
Of course it was dark with no streetlights, so we had difficulty finding this secret turn off. The plump man jogged up and said to follow him. I think he was either being too helpful or underestimated his unfitness, because it was a few hundred metres on. So we sat in our vehicle doing about 5mph while this fat bloke wheezed his way down the street. By the time we reached the turn off, I thought he was going to have a heart attack and keel over.
Still, considering it was midnight, we were very grateful for his help to find a hotel that was open. There was a grumpy female receptionist. She checked us into a small but clean double room which had a TV and sink. She said there was no shower, but strangely there was a sauna.
It turned out that the communal shower in the sauna was blocked (with human hair). I found the two ladies in 4 inches of water and an ineffectual plunger trying to unblock the drain. With nothing better to do (except drink wine), I spent nearly an hour helping them unblock the drain. Not that I got a smile or thank you, but we did get a welcome shower. Still wired from the rough journey, I couldn’t sleep. I think it was 2.30am before my brain closed down.
Today, Trev drove 162 (2811 total) and I did 95 (1360 total) = 257 for the daily total = 4161 miles after 15 days.
Day 16th – Sunday July 27th
Despite the late night, we had to try and make up some time so we got away early. A man was outside the hotel on the steps trying to sell a large smoked fish – not something you see every day, especially so far from the coast. We had no idea what lay ahead, but sometime today we expected to cross into Uzbekistan. We had been surprised not to pass any of the other teams who had been with us at the port and could only assume that we even though we left after three other teams, that we got out of town quicker and were actually ahead of them.
We had a drive around Beyneu until we found an ATM. The one good and consistent thing about Kazakhstan was that there were ATMs with loads of Tenge currency. Filling up at the garage, we made sure that both jerry cans were full as well as our tank. We had no idea of when we would find the next garage. Then it was across the railroad tracks and pretty much follow our noses in a southerly direction.
Fortunately, the railway tracks were also going south and had a line of telegraph poles flanking them. Likewise, the surprisingly sealed road followed the railway so it was easy to take a guess where we were headed. The landscape was flat and barren. There were no livestock, just the occasional herd of camels. The road was dusty and pretty much empty with nothing going our way. When a truck did approach us, it was throwing up so much dust that it looked like a fire on the move, without the flames.
Trev spotted a vehicle ramp and drove the Disco up so he could check the undercarriage. It had taken a battering yesterday. These vehicle ramps are prevalent in the old Russian countries so that locals can do their own repairs. The oil leak we had had been plugged by the dust. After a thorough inspection, Trev declared the Disco to be in excellent condition and we pushed on.
It was just as well, because soon after, the sealed road disappeared and we were back to muddy ruts.
We were surprised to come across the Kazakhstan /Uzbekistan border under two hours from Beyneu. It was easy to leave Kazakhstan, where one office stamped us out and there was a cursory glance at the vehicle contents. A line of Uzbekistan cars and trucks waited in the sun, but we were through in no time.
It had been a strange introduction to this huge country. We found the people friendly, the landscapes awe inspiring. At the same time, the bureaucracy getting in was futile while it was a doodle getting out. We would be returning to Kazakhstan for hopefully a more thorough stay.
But for now, it was goodbye and welcome to Country number 13 – Uzbekistan. Unlucky for some? It would certainly be unlucky for us.
Kazakhstan Roadkill: Camel
Travel - £64.20
Costs in Kazakhstan for 2 days (in British Pounds Sterling)
Accommodation - £93 (2 nights)
Food - £9.82
Other - £3.37
Total - £170.39
Grand Total So Far - £1302.33
Maps courtesy of www.theodora.com/maps used with permission.