The Journey So Far – Central Asia

2009 08


The map shows the route as accurately as I know how – if I didn't know any better, then the route is just a straight line between A & B.
days on the road (total)= 14 (44)
distance covered (total)= 3,885 (11,270) km
(as the crow flies as close to my route as I know)
(measured using free map tools)

Memorable moments:
Arriving in the middle of the night
Lively local transport
Uzbek roads
Larger than life locals
Traveller's nightmare
Tough decisions caused by inflexible timetables

Top sights:
Desert ship graveyard
'istoria Samarkand
Trek to Big Almaty Lake

Leaving Kazakhstan

2009 08 09 – Day 44 – Almaty to Urumqi

After a decent nights sleep, I spent most of the train journey to the Kazakh border being entertained by the chipper young Kazakh sharing my compartment, or being hypnotised by the window as one beautiful wilderness after another rolled by.

At some town an hour or so before the border we all had to get out and wait around for a while while they changed the wheel gauges. Unfortunately we weren't allowed to watch this process and just had to hang about in some station-like building.

This was not the place and our train did not look like this! It's just some old train at some half-built settlement near the border.

Leaving Kazakhstan this time was pretty much a formality, though it I made good use of my compartment companion's literacy in Russian to confirm on my departure card that I wasn't smuggling anything or suspiciously ill.


Looking back at the Kazakh border building having left Kazakhstan, but not yet entered China!

A Chance Encounter and A Tough Decision

2009 08 08 – Day 43 – Almaty

My train didn't leave until after midnight and although I was pretty tired from my hike to Big Almaty Lake I wanted to make best use of the daylight and my limited time in Almaty. I decided to head up Kok Tobe, a popular place to watch the sun go down over the city, accessible by cable car from fairly near the city centre, which suited my energy levels.

On my stroll to the cable car, Dina, a local girl of European descent crossing the same road, struck up conversation. We immediately hit it off and I got a big lift from her energy and enthusiasm, soon forgetting my tired feet as she'd persuaded me that local bus and then by foot was the best way up Kok Tobe, not the overpriced cable car.
We spent the next 4 or 5 hours together chatting each others' ears off, eating ice lollies and other snacks, puzzling over the (unrecognisable as) Beatles statues that grace the top of Kok Tobe and watching the sun go down over Almaty.

As the evening wore on and my departure drew near, we both agreed it was a shame I wasn't here tomorrow when she could show me more of the city. Dina asked why didn't I stay another couple of days? Good question! Why not? Because I have a train booked for tonight was the obvious answer, but of course train tickets can be rearranged... it just depends on how difficult or expensive it is to do so. I hadn't even thought of the possibility. My mind span, trying assess the implications of taking on her suggestion and what that meant for my onward travel to Beijing.... was it as simple as arriving two days later?
Certainly my Kazakh and Chinese visas could accommodate the two days, I wasn't tied to fixed departure or arrival dates, but my trains from Almaty to Urumqi and from Urumqi to Beijing were booked. I wasn't convinced it was possible or my best plan of action, but I was intrigued by the idea because we were having such a good time and, due to my illness, I'd spent less time in Almaty than planned. If it turned out not too complex or costly, then maybe I would stay.

We set off to the station to enquire about changing my ticket to Urumqi. Dina being a native Russian speaker made the enquiries painless and to my extreme surprise there was only a minor charge for changing my ticket until nearly the last minute! Two days later was my only option short of a week as the Urumqi train only runs twice a week. A bit stunned at how easily the first hurdle was overcome, I approached the next: my Urumqi to Beijing train ticket, the Urumqi agent who held it, and my hostel reservation for my first four nights in Beijing – all of which were perhaps best dealt with the next day as it was pretty late by this point but, thanks to the rotation of the Earth, there was still a chance I could get in touch with Sundowners or STA representatives to try gauge how difficult any changes would be. I tried ringing the few numbers I had on my various documents, but late on a Saturday afternoon is not the sort of time you'd expect the office to be full of people fighting to get to the receiver.
No one answered.
By this point, the mental and physical tiredness that Dina had earlier banished, was coming back strong and fairly overwhelmingly – I was struggling to think straight and teetering along the decisions edge – should I stay or should I go? I rang a 24hr (anywhere in the world) STA number but since I didn't really regard my situation as an emergency I didn't get past the automated system to a human being. I tried again, trying to convince myself it was an emergency...... the line rang out! Good luck to those in a real emergency!
I couldn't do it. I'd tried all I could.
Back in the UK, my information was that Chinese long distance trains are booked far in advance and so I had no reason to believe I would be able to change my Urumqi-Beijing train at short notice and was anyway reluctant to give up my original arrival day of Thursday – just in time for the weekend. I was too tired to deal with the possibility of a delay longer than the two days I was contemplating and perhaps having to pay for tickets twice.
I made the decision to go.
Dina and I exchanged emails and hopefully we'll see each other again.
What an evening! What a shame! For the second time already in my travel, fixed plans had become more of a hinderance than a help.

What A Lot of Weddings!

2009 08 08 – Day 43 – Almaty

Strolling down the dusty mountain road, a marriage of giants was not the first thing I expected to see!

Back near Almaty city limits there were gathered countless wedding parties... it seems the mountains and fountains are the number one wedding picture backdrop.

There are at least five brides in this frame and that's just a fraction of the total swanning around. As my guide and I left the scene, it seemed like half the 'pedestrians' we passed were brides, grooms, or photographers!

Big Almaty Lake

2009 08 08 – Day 43 - Almaty


Having spent half of my three days in Almaty hiding in my room trying to recover, I wanted to get out and about into the spectacular mountains surrounding the city. Not yet strong enough to do all the research myself and with limited time, I thought it wise to pay for a guide through Turan Asia (Sundowners representatives in Kazakhstan) to lead me in a hike to Big Almaty Lake – a major source of fresh water for the city and a picturesque location to hike to.



The simplest route was to walk on top of the pipes channelling water from the lake to Almaty, but I preferred grass, rock and earth underfoot.



Fresh water in abundance.... with it being so hot, I was really glad some genius had setup this pipe from the river across the small ravine enabling hot hikers like me to quench their thirst and wash their sweaty faces!


The brilliant turquoise of the lake is down to natural minerals apparently. Having lived my life in the modern, industrialised world, not being familiar with such a colour in nature, and even though I believed the information I was given, my eyes and my brain had an underlying discomfort over the 'natural' nature of the colour.

Green Market

2009 08 07 – Day 42 - Almaty

My hotel enjoyed a prime location next to the biggest market in town – Green Market – and so, still recovering, it was nice that I didn't have to expend much energy to explore the stalls.



It's quite something to see an experienced butcher speedily, methodically and efficiently remove all the useable flesh from the face of a pig until only the skull remains.
I tried to take a photo, but a jobsworthy security guy appeared out of nowhere to indicate that I couldn't take pictures. From then on I had to be discreet, particularly around the meat.

Ill on Arrival

2009 08 06 – Day 41 - Almaty

Other than dealing with each moment as it came, I'm not quite sure how I made it from the border to Chimkent, and then survived several hours waiting for my overnight train to Almaty. It's times like this that travelling with another person would be beneficial, at least you'd have someone to watch your stuff while you find a toilet. I think Imodium helped solidify the situation somewhat, but am not sure because the night was not trouble free and by the time we arrived in Almaty I was weak with stomach cramps, lack of sleep, lack of food and from all my energy being used to keep the situation under control. Having spent more than 24 hours on Imodium and still not right, I was keen to follow the instruction leaflet and seek medical attention. Fortunately for me, sharing my compartment was Muslim, an Almaty local and software engineer who had been to Chimkent for it's hot spring health spas, who had been keen to practice his English the day before, and so I had someone to approach for help. Despite his decent English, it still took a shuffle through my ever-useful pocket Russian phrasebook to communicate effectively. Panos. That's what I had. Muslim translated the recommendation of the middle-aged mothers sharing our compartment – Regadron (a prehistoric sounding rehydration powder) in a litre of water, sip all day and rest. No food. It sounded like they knew what they were talking about, but, given my medications instructions, I thought it wise that I still seek medical attention. Muslim generously helped me out in this regard, shepherding me around Almaty until we found an appropriate clinic.
A very necessary visit to the clinics toilet was brightened by this curiously named bin.

Why is this bin a fantasy bin? Who has fantasies about bins!? Maybe it's the 'swing' aspect that really sets it apart.

After a short consultation, and a small fee, I got exactly the same advice the train mums gave, and so purchased some Regadron and set about finding somewhere to stay so I could get on with the serious business of rest and recouperation.

I spent the next day laying in bed, sipping tea and my Regadron laced water, reading, writing my diary and watching Liverpool beat Blackburn 4-2... shame that it was a repeat of last seasons game as the 2009/10 season hadn't started yet.


The ever evolving sky and the calls to prayer of the nearby mosque provided structure to my day.

I later realised this day of doing 'nothing' (which of course wasn't nothing) was badly needed. Regardless of my illness, I needed to rest my brain and body from the rigours of travel. It occurred to me that I would be wise to schedule more days like this, without the illness, in my future travels to help keep my energy levels up and keep me sane.

Leaving Uzbekistan

2009 08 05 – Day 40 – Tashkent to Almaty

Eastward travel to Almaty in Kazakhstan by rail requires a road border crossing an hour or so from Tashkent and another three hours by road on the other side to the nearest city with a station, Chimkent. With no regular transport link crossing the border, Sundowners had arranged for my hotel driver to drop me about hundred metres from the border, as close as general traffic could get, and have someone meet me on the Kazakh side.

A few hundred metres of walking in the rapidly strengthening sun were required to, between and from the border control buildings, which would be fine under normal circumstances, but that morning my stomach had taken a turn for the worse and all my limited energy became focused on keeping the lid on it.

Adding to my suffering at the Uzbek departure point were a confused throng of an eclectic mix of people, ranging from locals with a basket or two of unsettled chickens to some Brits taking part in the Mongol Rally, chasing a short supply of pens to be able to fill out departure cards. The uncomfortable queuing was an exercise in mind over matter. Only in hindsight did I realise that, despite the strong warnings regarding accountability, no one checked the accommodation registration and currency exchange receipts which had dogged my decision making and flexibility.

As with arrival in Uzbekistan, crossing into Kazakhstan I had to declare the value of Rubles and Dollars I was carrying. The baggage scanning machine was a border guard and a table. He looked at my passport and arrival card, looked at me, looked at my rucksack on the table, checked no one else was looking and said “$10”, clearly giving me the choice of an uncomfortable and drawn out inspection of my bag, or easy passage. In other circumstances I would have called his bluff, but my stomach cramps were controlling my brain and it was worth $10 to pass through the border swiftly and cleanly without anything passing out of me swiftly and not so cleanly. Fortunately for me, I only had $35 on me and $10 of that was in $1 bills. The guard didn't much like the look of those, I think people here suspect $1 bills are fakes, and he was clearly uncomfortable with the idea of taking more than half of my Dollars with the $20 note, so he swiped the $5 and dismissed me to his colleague for passport stamping.


The drive from the border to Chimkent coincided with my realisation that nearly all Central Asian vehicles had a cracked windscreen.

After an unpleasant roadside snack of the local sour and salty milk and dry salty milk balls, that my driver was convinced would help my stomach, I was extremely grateful that, particularly as I was ill, I did to not need to squat over this pit toilet.

The few broken wooden slats masquerading as a floor would have made an Indiana Jones rope bridge seem stable.

Kazakh/Uzbek border crossing

2009 07 30 – Day 34 - Aralsk-Tashkent train

Crossing the border from Kazakhstan to Uzbekistan, a couple of hours from Tashkent, takes place entirely on the train. Guards with big hats, big guns and big alsatians come aboard and check that everything is as it should be before we leave Kazakhstan, including opening wall, floor or ceiling panels if necessary. Then, a few minutes down the track, we go through the whole thing again to enter Uzbekistan. With the train stopped, doors open, and officials coming and going, the stops are as uncomfortable from the heat as from the border guards attention.
Entering and exiting Uzbekistan you have to declare valuables and amount of US dollars and Russian rubles. As a result, I wasn't particularly surprised when the guard checking me and my belongings, after a half-hearted rummage in my well packed rucksack, wanted to go through the contents of my wallet and neck pouch. He demanded to see this and that and the next thing before leaving, seemingly satisfied. It wasn't until later in the day, sorting through my things, that I realised he must have pinched $15! He had pulled the old magicians art of misdirection on me, because by the time we were done, I had various things strewn on my bed and the small window table. My mistake was to not put each thing away after I'd shown it to him or at least have all the things in front of me all the time, but he flustered me with his grabbing and pointing and speed. At least I didn't have much money on me, so he wasn't able to take much.
For the crossing into Uzbekistan, we also had a team of medics come on the train, sweating into their synthetic white coats and face masks while they waited for their thermometers to provide our armpit temperature. Mine was 36.5°C. One who had a little English then interviewed me to establish if I was well... fortunately I was. I think they were checking for swine flu victims.

Aralsk-Tashkent Landscapes

2009 07 29-30 – Days 33-34 - Aralsk-Tashkent train

The majority of this train journey was in Kazakhstan. Most of the landscape was desert, where human settlements were generally small and few and far between.

Aralsk-Tashkent Train

2009 07 29-30 – Days 33-34 - Aralsk-Tashkent train

Having made the train with only seconds to spare, I had to walk through eight coaches to find mine. Those coaches I passed through were clearly one step down from my class on the Moscow-Aralsk train, with no compartments, no air conditioning and six berths in the same space as four... it was hot and cramped and I felt pretty awkward bundling my way through with my big rucksack.
As soon as I found my more comfortable compartment, I was immediately relocated to an available berth elsewhere in the carriage after the policeman holding a private dinner party in my original compartment had a word with the carriage guard. Settling in to my unofficial berth, sharing the compartment with a young mother and her one-year-old, the carriage guard comes and asks me for 200 Rubles for the bedsheets.... I didn't know anything of this charge I protest! It doesn't mention such a thing on my ticket I claim (not totally sure as it's in Russian) and I didn't have to pay such a fee on the Moscow-Aralsk train... He doesn't entirely understand and I'm in no hurry to give way to the charge which sounds a bit fishy... I'm not sure he won't pocket the money. He disappears for a short while and returns with a translator – fellow passenger 16 year old Julia. Now able to communicate, it becomes clear that other passengers have paid this charge... but that doesn't change my position of disappointment at hidden charges.... surprisingly the guard concedes that he can accept, instead of payment and to cover the shortfall in his accounts, a letter outlining why I refused to pay! After some consideration of the possibility that writing such a letter would create more problems than would be worth the money it saved, I decided to do it on principle, since I had the option.


Julia with my statement and her translation.

While the bedsheets charge was being addressed, the policeman whose compartment I was supposed to share arrived at the doorway and inquires, through Julia, why am I traveling alone? Who will help me if something goes wrong? I reply, through Julia, that I don't know, that I'll deal with problems when they occur and I'm sure local people will help me. His response is a grunt that sets him in motion back to his compartment. Was he indirectly threatening me? I ask Julia... she thinks he was just drunk.


Curious and charismatic fellow passenger Ruslan (left) invites himself into my compartment and, requisitioning my Russian phrasebook, leafs through for a word he probably won't find to help his enthusiastic questioning. Intoxicated policeman (right) interrupts for a brief while, asking the same questions as before and insisting I take his photo.
Ruslan and I get on quite well and share some beers at the next station stop and spend much of the rest of the afternoon in entertaining banter with some assistance from Julia, her Mum, Ruslan's friend and my Russian phrasebook.

The second day on a train seems to be when all the locals really want to get to know you and I spent the last hour or two before Tashkent being quizzed by these friendly locals on what seem to be the standard topics – Where am I from? Why am I traveling alone? Where's my wife? Why aren't I married? Apparently I should find myself a nice Uzbek girl...

Aralsk - MuseumOfHistory

2009 07 29 – Day 33 - Aralsk

Aralsk has a small and well maintained museum of history containing exhibits, information and mini diaramas on everything from traditional Kazakh nomadic life through Soviet times and the towns growth from being a stop on the Moscow-Tashkent railroad, to its part in WWII and its current problems associated with the retreat of the Aral Sea.


How the Aral Sea should look from above and what it's like now. Some pretty alien looking fish populate those jars on the floor.


Mockup of the interior of a traditional Kazakh yurt and the various trappings of life of those times.


The museum owner, proudly showing his personal record of modern Aralsk history – the day Euan McGreggor and Charlie Boorman rode into town on their Long Way Round show (well worth a look).

One Hump or Two?

2009 07 29 – Day 33 - Aralsk

During the drive back to Aralsk, through the rapidly increasing temperature, we cross paths with a bunch of wandering camels.

Are they wild or tamed and roaming? The two humpers seemed to dominate this group. It's cool to encounter animals you could only see in the zoo at home, in their natural habitat.

The Saddest of Seas

2009 07 29 – Day 33 - Aralsk

The Aral Sea, which has been steadily shrinking since the 1960s, is another 30 mins drive from the ships graveyard and is like no other sea I've seen before: it's not so much like a big lake as like an enormous puddle. The incline to the shore is extremely shallow, and the sand at its edge is a saturated mud that threatens to swallow my feet and prevents my reaching the waters edge. Perhaps that's best, as this is a mournful shore. Despite the couple of ducks within sight and the handful of small birds that zip about after insects, the place feels dead.

It's a strangely quiet environment, the air is still and dry enough as to not really feel its touch. The sun is an impassive observer... there is nothing to 'do' here than contemplate the capacity of human 'development' to break the systems that created and sustain us.

Look, No Sea! Desert Ships Graveyard

2009 07 29 – Day 33 - Aralsk

An hour drive from Aralsk, over what was seabed, there is a graveyard of abandoned ships. Ships that lost their usefulness when the sea retreated too far from settlements. Scrap metal reclamation by locals has reduced the number of ships from twelve to five partially reclaimed hulls.

The desert floor is littered with shells, one of the few pieces of evidence that where I stand had a much greater history of being under water than not... until relatively recently.

I was interested to see the arrangement of scrub around this hull mimicked a bow wave.... wonder why that is?

My driver and I were the only humans out here and the isolation was tangible. I depended on him to get back to Aralsk... did I know the way back? The desert tracks were fairly well worn, but there had been rudimentary junctions and I don't remember which way we turned and where... and I didn't bring my compass...

Desert Dawn Drive

2009 07 29 – Day 33 - Aralsk

Local fixer Sirik had speculated a 9am start for my visit to the ship graveyard which is an hour drive into the desert that used to be sea. I had insisted that I wanted to get out there soon after sunrise, mainly for better lighting for photography, but also to avoid the searing heat of the middle of the day. So my driver and I set off at 5am, leaving Aralsk under the cover of darkness and witnessing the magic of the colour and light changes of dawn conjuring the desert out of the dark.

Aralsk - Meeting the Locals

2009 07 28 – Day 32 - Aralsk


It was fairly clear I was a bit of a novelty in town and this enterprising young lad – Irun (11) - called me over and convinced me to take a photo of the family. The tranquility of our friendly mutual incomprehension was destroyed when his sister exploded around the corner.

Samal (9) was a ball of flailing limbs, energy and charisma who yapped away from the moment she landed, shooting winning grins, comments and questions with attitude in all directions. I'm actually amazed I got this picture, which captures her spirit reasonably well, as it wasn't posed. She was just doing her thang and I happened to be kneeling having just retrieved my camera from Irun.
I continued my walk and Irun and Samal tagged along, at first following at a distance, but later becoming my guides. Initially Irun tried to lead, being the big brother, but Samal was irripressable and brought handfulls of energy and good humour to our 'tour'. The girl could dance, busting some moves that no 9-year-old has any right to pull! Their English was only fractionally more advanced than my Kazakh, but it felt like we made some useful communication. They taught me to count to 10 in Kazakh but by the evening I'd lost it.


Markhaba (right) approached me earlier in the day as I left the market and requested a chance to practice her English. I agreed and we met again in the evening with her friend Yeltay (left) around 20:00, which turned out to be a lovely time of day because the air is really nice as the intensity of the heat goes out of the day and the trees were full of birds singing out the end of the day. Both are medical students at different stages in a different town, but were back home for holidays. Both are Couch Surfers! I wouldn't have expected that. Also surprising is that Yeltay has a friend studying in Dundee! The friend says Dundee has the same wind as Kazakhstan!? I'm not sure what aspect of the Dundee wind the friend is referring to, but as they weren't there I couldn't chase up that interesting comparison. They made me feel very welcome, taking me for a drink and then a tour of local monuments and public spaces of interest.


Economically caped with plastic bags, heroes of the future race around the Soviet era 'Hero Mothers' monument - dedicated to those brave women who bore and raised 10 or more children for the Soviet nation!