After a surprisingly casual but eventful border crossing from Turkmenistan to Uzbekistan (I had my Turkmen flag confiscated, made what turned out to be an inappropriate joke about cocaine with the Uzbek border guards who also found a stash of undeclared US dollars in Charlie's bag), we arrived in the regional border town of Nukus.
We had planned a two day excursion the following day to visit the biggest man-made disaster in the world: The Aral Sea.
But of course we first needed to exchange the reserves of dollars we had taken out in Baku (In anticipation for difficulties or the impossibility that we could withdraw cash out in either Turkmenistan or Uzbekistan. We had been given a lot of conflicting information but I suppose we just wanted to be safe....) for Uzbek Som.
This was simple in principle, BUT this was Uzbekistan. Here the president had attempted to peg the value of the currency to a set value of 1700 Som per US dollar. The actual value, or the Black Market value, was 2500 Som against the dollar. A significant enough difference to ensure that practically the entire country worked at the black market rate and despite it being technically an illegal act, freely exchanged dollars and Som between themselves and foreigners, in shops, hotels, Bazaars, taxis, anywhere really. From my understanding, only big hotels or flight tickets were calculated based on the 'official' rate...
So, when we met the travel agent that evening over tea, he offered us to exchange our dollars. Cool, potential problem solved!
No, this is Uzbekistan. The highest denomination of note available was 1000 Som. So we each exchanged $100 each, you can do the maths.
We received around 2-3kg of 200, 500 and 1000 paper notes in a bag. This was dealt to me from a much larger box/crate of notes from the trunk of the guy's car! What a fantastic way to introduce us to this country!
Driving along the former seabed. The cliffs ahead were the former coastline.
A Brief History Lesson
The next day we headed north in order to reach the resided shoreline of the Aral Sea, once the 4th largest lake in the world, now the biggest disaster caused by mankind. Stalin's proposed in the late 1940's a 'Great Plan for the Transformation of Nature', a plan to turn the vast arid steppes of Central Asia into a farmland power house for the rest of the USSR. All of the rice, wheat and cotton plantations needed a significant amount of water.
Charlie, Sam and our driver, Viktor, with our Russian made UAZ jeep.
Thankfully two huge rivers were nearby, the Amu Darya and the Syr Darya. These were diverted in the early 1960s to feed irrigation canals which weren't even waterproof. Thin and poor soil conditions meant that even more water was needed. Soon the Aral Sea began to shrink at a rate of 20cm a year. A project to refill the Aral Sea in 1986 was scrapped.
We drove for around 8 hours across arid steppe to get to the shore.
Sam looks out onto the delta of the Amu Darya. The river dries up before it can reach the Aral Sea.
Current Situation
The Aral Sea is now residing 80-90 vertical centimeters a year.
By 1998, the sea had lost 60% of its surface area and 80% of its volume.
This is equivalent to draining lake Ontario.
Our guide claimed that the sea had now reached 50% salinity, this has killed most it the area's natural flora and fauna.
In 1987, the sea split into two parts, the North Aral Sea and the South Aral Sea. We visited the south one.
Desertification due to the disaster has made life in the region very difficult, summers are hotter and dryer, whilst winters have become longer and colder.
The fishing town Moynaq, once on a peninsula in the Aral Sea, now lies 200km from the current shoreline.
An dam, built on the Kazakh side of the Aral Sea, now holds back water flowing out of the North Aral Sea into the South Aral Sea. This has begun to reverse the shrinking of the north sea but has doomed the South Aral Sea to disappear within the next 5-10 years.
On the cliff with the seabed behind.
After buying a substantial amount of refreshments that morning, we set off north towards what was left of the South Aral Sea. We encountered fewer and fewer traffic along the paved road that we sped along until it gradually deteriorated and became a dirt track.
Another break from our uncomfortable car journey.
At that point we followed some 4x4 tracks up a set of cliffs, rising out of the vast flatness of what was once the seabed. Surely the cliffs we ascended must have once had waves crashing against them. Once on top, more arid steppe continued into infinity.
We drove along sets of 4x4 tracks parallel with the cliffs, sometimes switching to a new set of tracks when it became too bumpy, not like it made a whole load of difference. Viktor seemed to have his foot to the floor as we sped along the dry landscape at around 80 km/h for a good 3 hours until we stopped for lunch.
After having some tasty fish for lunch (how about that) we set off again.
Another 3 or 4 hours later, it just appeared.
Our first sight of the Aral Sea.
We start descending the cliffs to get to the 'beach'.
We parked on an abandoned barge.
We were in shock. We had driven the whole day, almost 9 hours, across open, lifeless and immensely hot steppe to reach what was still a huge mass of water, apparently in the middle of nowhere. It was beautiful. I think because of the colour, the deep blue contrasted so sharply with what we had seen and felt (we were super sweaty by the end of the day), it was almost mesmerizing.
A can of tinned tuna I found. Food for thought?
Within 200m of the waters edge the ground became increasingly bumpy and difficult to drive across. Viktor pulled up on an abandoned barge that was sitting 50 meters away from the water.
I noticed that all of the ground up to 100m from the water were in various shades of dark brown, as the final droplets of water were evaporated from the earth. This had caused the surface to reshape itself into an uneven and lumpy appearance. There was salt everywhere. I was thankful that we had a firm surface where we could organise ourselves and get changed (Well if we came all this way here we had to try and go swimming!!).
Getting into the water was a mucky, difficult and slow process. The ground became less and less solid as we approached the water, until we were even straining to pull our own feet out of the mud to make the next step. Once in the water however, it was surprisingly pleasant, that is at least, if none of it went into your eyes or mouth! It was quite warm, and we all effortlessly floated around in the saltine water, pondering how on earth we came to be swimming in the Aral Sea, in the middle of Central Asia.
Floating in the Aral on an 'unusual' beach holiday.
Getting out was about as tricky as getting in.
Salt was everywhere.
Later that evening we headed back up to the cliffs so we could camp. Viktor prepared an incredible Russian Borscht, typically washed down with the local vodka!
View from near our camp of the former seabed and the sea.
Epic meal time.
Sunrise over the Aral Sea.
One way traffic.
The following day we set off at dawn to complete our loop trip via the former fishing town of Moynaq, now situated over 200km from the sea. To get there, we drove back down from the cliffs and drove along what appeared to be relatively new solid ground. Few shrubs had begun to grow and the earth was incredibly flat. It was here where it truly felt we were traveling along a former sea bed.
I struggled to envision a sea, teaming with life, flowing around us, possibly with the occasional boat floating 35 meters above the jeep.
Once we arrived at Moynaq, we visited the 'Ship Graveyard', a small collection of stranded boats that had been dragged to what was the closest thing to a memorial of the disaster. Again, in what felt and appeared so much like a lifeless desert, it was incredibly difficult to connect this tragedy to what life might have been like here 50 years ago.
There were several rusty, empty and graffiti ridden shells of former fishing boats.
Some were quite big.
Chilling in the merciful shade.
Trying to imagine this ship breaking waves in a fresh sea breeze.
One of many satellite images showing the demise of the Aral Sea. The outline is the size in 1960. We visited the South Aral Sea on the left hand side of the map.
Clues as to what life was like 50 years ago.
When I was planning this trip, and planning various interesting things to do along this trip, visiting the Aral Sea was quite high up on my to-do list. It was fascinating, how could so much water just... disappear? It was pretty funny actually, 'Oh look how badly the Soviets messed up here'.
The sea is 200km that way.
But spending 2 days driving endlessly around the disaster area, I realised it wasn't funny, it was shocking and kind of sad. The affected area was just huge, and we probably only saw a fraction of it. The climate has changed, demographics have changed, politics have changed, life for 99% of the people in this region ended with the demise of the Aral Sea.
People are now facing serious health problems, as the air quality has deteriorated and frequent dust storms blast the former fishing settlements. The fishing industry has collapsed, ghost towns are the only thing that is left of what was once a vibrant fishing community.
After arriving back in Nukus in the early afternoon, we bid farewell to Viktor and set off to Kniva, a historical city that became a highlight of our trip to Uzbekistan.
Taxi to Kniva, time to reflect.
Thinking back to what we had seen over the last couple of days, I can only hope that this ongoing disaster will somehow generate a greater international attention that it deserves. It has not disappeared, yet. There are unlikely, difficult solutions, but solutions do exist. Maybe one day it will be possible to take the ferry that once existed between Moynaq, Uzbekistan and Aral, Kazakhstan.
However, it unfortunately looks far more likely that this already impoverished region will continue to suffer as the last drops of this giant body of water evaporate. Similarly, the corrupt governments that have inherited this area will most likely continue to ignore this problem until it has all dried up and vanished in the wind.
The next day we set off with a new driver: Dimitri, north from Ashgabat across the Karakum Desert.
We were heading to the much anticipated Gas Craters, three unexplained craters in the earth that emitted gas, one of which was mysteriously set alight around forty years ago, still burning to this day.
Having Google imaged this "Door to Hell", as it is nicknamed, numerous times, I wasn't quite sure if we were to be disappointed or not. After building up the experience of finally seeing the thing, would it live up to our lofty expectations?
Camel Crossing
After a very fast, but bouncy car journey, we made it to the first two craters. The first was filled with water, roughly 20 meters deep and around 50 meters across. The fizzing in and around the centre of the pool showed us evidence of the invisible gas seeping out.
The next one was filled with a curdling and bubbling mud, but otherwise quite similarly uninspiring and lifeless as the first. We soon become disheartened, hoping that the last crater wouldn't be such a waste of our time, as we drove off the main road and deeper into the desert.
Dimitri, Sam and Charlie hang out by the first crater
The second wasn't that much cooler!
Our campsite, 400m from the burning crater, to avoid the toxic fumes.
I had convinced myself that the burning gas crater would be like looking at a distant camp fire at the bottom of a large hole.
Clearly it wasn't.
After climbing a small hill, we got our first glimpse of the 'Door to Hell' at sunset.
Charlie and Sam approach the crater.
Dimitri explained his version of events that led to the creation of such a fantastic phenomina in the middle of the Turkmen desert.
This awesome sight was the bizarre result of failed Soviet gas exploration and a disgruntled shepherd, whose sheep were not particularly benefiting from breathing in the leaking gas.
A burning tyre rolled from a neighbouring hill not only improved the health of the sheep, but created an incredible spectacle, frequently visited by both tourists and locals.
As well as watching the crater against the darkness of the night, I particularly enjoyed it as day light faded and it gradually began to glow, a spot just above our campsite being the perfect place to watch it from.
It was WARM
The wind blew all of the leaking gas to one side. It was so strong that we couldn't get within 25 meters of the edge.
But with the wind our backs, we could get as close as we wanted...
Charlie joining Sam on the other side of the crater. Gives a pretty decent size comparison!
The sun rises over the Karakum desert. It seems like the 'gates to hell' have been closed.
Wide-angle view of the crater in daylight
More wandering around on sand dunes!
The next day we hit the road (again), further north towards Uzbekistan. Our last stop on our Turkmen itinerary was the border town of Konye-Urgench.
What was of interest was the town sized archeology site of the old Konye-Urgench. Only few ruins remained here, as the city was obliterated of Chinggis Khan in the 1200s. Further along in a cemetery, local women rolled down a hill in the hope that they would hit a mausoleum so that they could receive God's good will. Certainly an interesting practice, as well as being quite amusing.
Dimitri, Sam and Charlie with our ride.
Dimitri passionately filled us in on the history: Chinggis Khan was unable to defeat the defenders of this city in 1221, after besieging the city for a year, he resorted to diverting an entire river to flood the city. This promptly drowned the remaining inhabitants, something that I'm sure they were not expecting. In addition to this, Chinggis left a single minaret, a sign to any enemies who might have stumbled upon the smoldering remains that there had once been an advanced and powerful civilization there, only for it to be utterly crushed by his relentless force.
The 'Unknown Portal' at Konye-Urgench, no archeologist has figured out the purpose of this entrance.
The minaret spared by Chinggis Khan.
That afternnon, with our trip to Turkmenistan at an end, we still had to leave the country and cross into Uzbekistan.
Seb was clearly not Turkmen enough to take one of their precious flags out of the country and this was swiftly confiscated after the boarder guards emptied our bags.
I felt that this bizarre occurrence summed up our experience of Turkmenistan. As the guard took it, he laughed sheepishly and looked slightly embarrassed.
We had witnessed the same sheepish expression on the face of Dimitri, whilst we were eating our evening meal in the glow of the gas crater, he told us about some of the other things the former President had done in the country.
Having written the national book, 'The Ruhnama' (The book of the Soul), he had enraged the Muslim world by building a giant mosque (Turkmenbashi Mosque) decorated with inscriptions, not from the Koran, but from the Ruhnama.
Then having made this book a compulsory read for all his subjects, he paid NASA to take the book and a Turkmen flag into space and leave it on an orbiting satellite.
Being a firm patriot and strong believer in the greatness of Turkmenistan, we were never sure if Dimitri was criticising his country when he told us these things and laughed so openly, or whether he was just trying to brush it off, but it was a theme that seemed to be prevalent with a lot the Turkmen people that we met.
When the boarder guard took Seb's flag, as well as when Dimitri laughed, it was if they wanted to apologise for the eccentricities of their former leader and to an extent their current one, whilst maintaining that they were both, underneath all the gold, truly great men, in charge of a truly great country.
I got the feeling that the Turkmen's attitude in words would be something like this: 'Some of it is a bit mental, but it works and we're happy, so why change it?'
Perhaps a mentality with potential; especially as the new President has started to tone down some of the more fanatical elements of the personality cult advocated by his predecessor and seems to be driving towards a more sustainable political plan.
Nevertheless as previously mentined, the gas will eventually run out and an extinguished buring crater will be the least of their worries.
