Aydarkul Lake, Uzbekistan

After a few dodgy stomachs, we got on the truck to head to a yurt camp between Bukhara and Samarkand. I faired pretty well compared to some, with only minor aches after eating at the local pondside restaurants. I think that the salad and noodle dishes didn't do any favours.

We arrived at the yurt camp in the afternoon and a few of us took a camel ride through the desert. It was a brilliant experience and my camel had a pleasant temperment, providing a smooth ride across the sand. I was lead by a young boy, who knew exactly how to handle the
fearsome beasts, one of which continually huffed, as another screamed out in protest, suddenly sitting down after being led just a few meters. It was a memorable way to spend the end of the afternoon, as long shadows formed on the sand and the sun lowered in the sky, as our camels meandered back to camp.

The yurts are beautiful, with colourful fabric covering the wooden framework and comfortable mattresses placed on the floor.

A meal was prepared for us, with a wonderful salad of grated carrots, beetroot, cabbage and potatoes, accompanied by a local vodka which was recommended to stop us from getting ill. Our guide told us that the local people always drink vodka followed by green tea during a meal, so I am doing the same.

I had a good night sleep in the yurt, under several blankets. The following morning we got up early and drove towards Samarkand, stopping at a beautiful lake along the way. Some people swam and a few of us wandered across the sandy hills, for a stunning view of turquoise waters in the middle of the desert. It was a very tranquil place.

The Karakum Desert, Turkmenistan

Since leaving Ashgabat, the following two days consisted of a long drive through the Karakum Desert, with sand dunes and heards of goats, scavaging for food. On the first night, we set up camp and pitched our tents as a family of wooly brown goats wandered over. I hearded them away from the cook group, who were trying to prepare dinner, and towards some discarded watermelon skins, which they happily chomped on. Despite being in the middle of nowhere, a few men on motorbikes passed through the dust track, and waved to us, all inquisative as to what we were doing. We must look quite an odd sight to locals, with a big orange truck and our dome tents.



As night fell, it was arranged for an old Russian truck to pick us up and take us to a flaming gas pit, with eruptions of fire, in a huge gas crater. Spurts of gas seemed to escape from the edges of the ground, creating swirling twisters of dust. Moths swooped over us, diving towards the flames in this apocalyptic vision of hell.



Taking the truck to and from the pit was an adventure in itself, as we stood in the back, griping onto a rickety bar, as the truck reved up, over sand dunes and ducking sharply down the other side, with a short beam of light providing the only warning of our unpredictable terrain. We clung on, during a journey that resembled a rollar coaster, hoping that such a primitive vehicle was up to the task of negotiating bumpy sand hills. It was an amazing experience, especially the gas crater, the heat that it produced and the contrast of the flames against the surrounding blackness.

The following night, we bush camped near a river, where some people took a swim, while dinner was prepared. The camp meal usually consists of potatoes, tomatoes, meat and anything that can be found at the local markets and cooked on our gas stove. Tonight the guys cooked us a meal of pasta, with onions and sausage in a tomato sauce. There was a beautiful sunset, which we watched dissapear being our tents. A camp fire was made, and we sat around what has been dubbed the 'bush television', eating our dinner and chatting away until we were sleepy enough to go to our tents.

Ashgabat, Turkmenistan

In the morning we drove to Ashgabat, passing Turkmenbashi Ruhy, the second biggest mosque in Asia along the way. It had glimmering gold domes, and a pool of fountains in front of the entrance. It was an impressive sight. The city of Ashgabat is quite a surreal place, built to indulge the fantasies of one man, as white marble buildings line the streets, with gleaming domes of blue and gold. The layout is grid like, with impossing marble building running in parrallel, and gardens blocked into rectangles. Golden statues and tranquil blue fountains are the normality here, and we accended the arch of neutrality for a birds eye view over the Sim City-esque creation. We tried to take photographs of the main square, but were stopped, the guards presuming our cameras were wide angle, capturing the forbidden presidentual buildings. We had to cross the roads precisely on the white lines, and where there were no lines, we were waved to the subway. Police and military guards continually stood on duty, around the city and even said hello to us.



On our walk around Ashgabat, we paused at the theatre and sat in the grounds, as local women gathered for a performance. Their dresses were so colourful and they smiled as we looked over, so I approached a few groups and photographed them. This seemed to cause much amusement, as the ladies laughed, revealing gold covered teeth. Many people seemed to know a few words of English.




A golden statue of Turkmenbashi on top of the Arch of Neutrality - there are lifts that go up to viewing platforms where you can photograph the city below.

We discovered the Russian market, with huge stalls, including an enticing display of homemade cake, so I sampled one with layers of rich chocolate and vanilla sponge, which was huge. The same portion may have served three people, in England. So all caked up, we returned to the luxurious hotel, to relax in an air conditioned room. The following day I enjoyed swimming in a beautifully clean, outdoor pool, as temperatures reached forty degrees.



In the evening we went to the English Pub out of curiosity as much as to make the most of a steak dinner, before heading off into the desert. The steak was good, although the tiramisu was a bit disapointing. They had an extensive drinks menu and did good cocktails. By eleven pm, a disco began, so we joined the locals on the dancefloor and enjoyed a lively night, with a Russian football game on the big screens, and dancers celebrating as their team won. We took a taxi back to the hotel in the early hours, for a few dollars. The eleven pm curfew seemed relevant to the streets, rather than being in a restaurant or club, particularly being seen walking infront of the presidentual buildings, so we made the most of a good night out.

The following morning we visited the Ashgabat market, a few km out of town. There was a lot of interesting jewelery, traditional Russian hats, fabric, carpets, clothes and just about everything that a community would need. The market stretched across a huge distance. I bought bags of fresh bread and a watermelon for the journey. I also managed to find a pretty wooden necklace for myself.

The Ferry from Baku to Turkmenbashi

I had been trying not to think about the twelve hour boat ride between Baku and Turkmenbashi, but inevitably that day arrived and it was time for me to face the journey. We left our hotel around midday, as confirmations were made that the ship would be going to Turkmenistan and not to somewhere else. For quite a while this was unclear, so we made our way to the harbour, hoping that our appearance would speed things up. We watched huge lorries and even train carriages drive onto the ship, as railway sleepers extended onto the ferry floor. We were stamped out of Azerbaijan and by three pm we were on board Ms Mercury.



The ship was larger than I imagined and very sturdy. I had a twin cabin, which was perfectly adequate, with a desk, bunk bed, an ensuite bathroom with a shower and sink. These were the best cabins at one hundred dollars each, and thankfully came lacking the cockroaches that I had expected. It was quite a relief that we had our own Western style toilets and not some grim, communal squatter. There were a few communal areas and a basic restaurant, which would cook dishes like chicken and chips or lamb and chick peas for a few dollars should you wish. There was a fridge with a selection of water, coke and fanta for sale at a dollar, but not a lot else. After waiting for what felt like an eternity, we set sail at eleven pm. We ate some cold pizza and a few snacks that we had brought with is and went to sleep. We had the windows open, as it was good to have a breeze in our cabin but the sound of the wind gusting in and the crashing of the waves was so loud, that I put my earplugs in to sleep.

The following morning I awoke to the gentle lull of turquoise blue water and passed the day by sitting out on deck, under a shady pillar. I ate my way through a bag of snacks and read a book about the life of a Japanesse family, through the eyes of a cat. In the afternoon they put down the ankors and we remained stationary, waiting in a queue of ships, for our place to dock. Mid afternoon, we began to move again, and by five pm we had docked. It took another six hours for us to pass through immigrations, by which point we had reached the curfew and were unable to drive to our camping ground.



We have a young and enthusiastic guide, who brought us some containters of meat, potatoes and salad, which was promptly consumed on the waiting room floor. We were all so hungry by this point as it felt like hours since the food that we were given for lunch. The various containers of cooked beef, pork, lamb and fish tasted delicious, and we were delighted with the baked jacket potatoes and dishes of chopped cucumber and tomato. We tucked in, to the envy of the local people, who were now trying to sleep across the plastic seats.

Due to the eleven pm curfew for tourists, we had to camp outside the immigrations building, and began to pitch our tents in the dimly lit car park, just as the wind began to pick up. We met some local people who had been waiting all day to get the ferry to Baku, and would still have to wait longer, since they were told that a storm was coming and the ship would not be leaving the port. I thought how lucky were, to get in when we did, rather than being stuck out at sea, in turbulant waters.

I put up my tent and tried to sleep, but when I could see the street lights from the gap that the top sheet left behind, having risen a foot from the base of the tent, I knew that it wasn't going well. I lay on my sleeping mat, constantly buffeted by the wind and decided that with a storm on its way, things would only get worse. I slept on the back seat of the truck, and watched the guide's tent rolling around the car park, upside down. I went to see if he was trapped in it, but no one answered when I called. Several people tried to move their tents in the night, to somewhere less windy but it was a fairly fruitless task.

The following day we called by a market stall at Turkmenbashi and bought ingredients for dinner that night. Most of the day was spent driving through various stages of dried mud landscape, dry and desert like until early evening, when we set up camp outside an underground lake. I was awakened in the night to the sound of rain drops, but fell back to sleep shortly after.