Updating our report on a Dog's life in Turkmenistan, it appears that plans to mothball the golden rotating statue of Turkmenistan's late eccentric dictator (pictured above) have been altered. One year after it was toppled as authorities sought to dismantle the leader's overwhelming personality cult, the statue has been placed atop a new, even higher tower.

The new tower, however, is on the outskirts of Ashgabat, not in the centre of the city as was the case previously.

See it for yourself on the 2012 Silk Route Bicycle Expedition.

The rather eccentric leader of Turkmenistan, Saparmurat Niyazov, (who renamed months of the year after himself and members of his family) may have passed away in 2006 but his successor, Gurbanguly Berdymukhamedov, is staying in character by keeping a close eye on the country's dog population.



The statue of Saparmurat Niyazov (pictured above) was designed so that his face turned and followed the sun on its journey across the sky.

Visit this intriguing country on a bicycle by joining the 2012 Silk Route.

Thanks to Paul Davison for sending us this story.

Congratulations Silk Route 2010 Riders!

There's nothing quite like being sprayed with champagne to celebrate a grand finale. Okay, maybe this wasn't real champagne, but it was bubbly, cold, and came in a green bottle with that fun gold foil sleeve over the cork. Besides, after cycling and camping for nearly 4000 kilometres, a shower is always welcome.

Twelve riders made it to Samarkand this afternoon, crossing the finish line as a group one last time after nearly seven weeks together. Elation was in the air as the happy bunch clustered together for photos in champagne soaked jerseys thanks to Eric and Rustam, who have really good aim. With a temperature hovering around the mid 30s, it was practically jacket weather for this crew on their final 129km ride; they've cycled through punishing +50 degree heat in recent days!

Five riders succeeded in maintaining the illusive EFI status, making their way across every inch of the route. But make no mistake, this was a tough group of determined people who rode as much as their bodies and bikes would allow under what were often intense conditions.

Now in country five of five, we've all got our favourites. Memories from Turkey, Georgia, Azerbaijan, Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan will stay locked in our hearts, beckoning us to return. As the chef, I was fortunate to visit thriving markets with a local interpreter at my side, catching all too brief glimpses of extraordinary cultures unlike anything I've ever known compared to my life back in Canada. I will remember the fast friendships in Turkey and raw beauty of the Georgian countryside, the refreshing fizzy camel milk under the face-melting sun of Turkmentistan, and the puppets! Oh the wonderful puppets of Uzbekistan! But most of all, I will remember, without exception, the kindness and hospitality of the people I've met. I have been humbled and touched by them all.

Congratulations 2010 Silk Route riders, you made it!

Hot.

The road from Mary, Turkmenistan to Bukhara, Uzbekistan has been a tough one.  The Kara Kum desert is really hot  and with the long days (sunrise 5 am sunset 9:00 pm) the heat is unrelenting.  Forty-eight degrees in the shade in one camp.  Over 55 degrees in the sun.  And in a desert camp there is no escape from the sun.  Even driving, the air blowing in thru the windows feels like the equivalent of shoving your head in an electric dryer.  Breakfast is a 5:00 am, riders are on the road by 5:30 and by 9 am your water bottles are hot enough to make tea with the water in them.  Traditionally the local people cook their bread on the sand and you could boil water by leaving it on the dashboard of your car.

Riders are drinking up to 15 liters of water in a day.  The faster riders are lucky.  They get to camp by 11 am or so and can sit in relative shade under our canopy and some of our camps have been near the Kara Kum canal where you can cool off, at least for bit. Some of the slower riders don’t reach camp until one or two in the afternoon when the heat is at its worst.

Every one has toughed out the heat admirably.  There have been frustrating moments, exacerbated by the heat, but in general everyone has kept their composure.  It’s a unique experience, cycling through these kinds of conditions.  An experience not many cyclists in the world will ever have.  Like many sections of our tours, it redefines what you consider difficult, or hot, or long.

The border crossing into Uzbekistan was uneventful. The process took a bit of time but went smoothly.  No matter how many borders I cross it’s always a little off putting to see young soldiers with machine guns staring at you and telling you what to do.  In the 3 hours I spent getting the TdA vehicle across though I had some pleasant moments with them.  Commiserating about the heat, marveling over the
quality of our bicycles, and (fortunately) laughing about the vodka they found in our van.

Environmental conditions aside the ride from Mary to the border was fun.  The Turkmen people are friendly and welcoming and very, very proud of their country.  We camped at a couple police checkpoints along the way and the police were always accommodating, although usually a bit confused about why we were doing what we were doing. Touring the ancient ruins of Merv, just outside the newer city of Mary was a treat.  The sense of history in Turkmenistan , as in Turkey, Georgia and Azerbaijan is palpable.

From here there are only two days left to the finish line in Samarkand. For most of the riders the end is coming too quickly.  It’s amazing how fast 6 weeks goes by.

Paul McManus

Kow Ata Camp
The countries we travel though are great.  Many like Turkey and Georgia, have ancient histories and date back to the 4th and 5th centuries.  One of the pleasures of visiting the old parts of cities in places like Istanbul, Tblisi, and to some extent, Baku is the charm of the old buildings and narrow, often cobbled, streets.  I’m a big fan of city planning.  Smart streets.  Livable cities.  The old parts of these modern cities have many of these ‘liveable’ elements that today’s city planners are struggling to achieve.  Things like mixed use structures with apartments on the upper floors and retail stores at street level create neighborhoods that operate as independent communities.  You buy your groceries from your neighbor, his son helps you paint your house, you might see your doctor or your mechanic at the laundry or local pub.  Most things are within walking distance. The narrow streets make travel by vehicle more difficult than walking or public transport.

Of course the design is not perfect. These communities were built hundreds of years ago when population density was lower and public services were minimal.  So things like efficient waste disposal, parking, street cleaning, code enforcement etc… still need a lot of improvement.  Retrofitting old buildings to accommodate modern needs like electricity, HVAC and plumbing can prove difficult and often leads to some less than ideal compromises (it’s pretty hard to run pipes and electric wires through a 12 inch stone wall).  As economies grow there is a demand for larger stores and more people need to commute to work which can clog the streets with noisy, dirty traffic.  When you contrast the lifestyle of people in the old cites to their modern counterparts it makes you wonder whether we should focus our efforts on modernizing buildings or changing our own lifestyles to be less demanding.  Certainly both are needed.  

Ashgabat, in Turkmenistan, has no old city.  Not that I’ve seen. Not in the same way as other countries we’ve visited on the Silk Route. The city was rebuilt after the 1948 earthquake that killed over 100,000 and leveled the city but the most attractive feature of it’s reconstruction was apparently a giant topiary in the shape of an airplane.  Saparmurat Niyazov, the first President  of Turmenistan (also called Turkmenbashi – Father of Turkmen) created a grand plan to renovate Ashgabat when the country gained independence in 1991.  The old structures were torn down, even the historic site of the original Ashabat settlement, Gorka, was plowed under.

The city now is beautiful, but has a strange feel to it.  Sort of sterile.  By city ordinance all buildings must be covered in Marble tile that are 80 cms x 50 cms and 3 cms thick.  10 and twelve story white marble building line the center of the city along a great pedestrian mall.  At one end of the mall is a 75 meter monument dedicated to Turkmenbashi.  At the top of the monument is a 12 meter statue of President Niyazov that is made of gold and rotates to always face the sun.  Behind the monument is a memorial to the 1948 earthquake that depicts a giant bull (with surprisingly large testicles) with the world skewered on its horns.  Atop the world is a golden child statue, riding out the shaking of the earth and representing the future of Turkmen.  Surrounding the mall are many other grand buildings and monuments and of course, a few more golden statues of Turkmenbashi.   The city center of the city is surprisingly void of people and it is very clean. Smoking is banned in all public areas, ever since the president quit smoking a decade ago.

Our ride through Turkmenistan started from the port in Turkmenbashi (named after the President).  We were a day behind schedule because the ferry was late arriving so we rode 80 kms in the desert heat before putting everyone on a bus to drive 290 kms closer to Ashgabat so we could ride the last two days into the city.  On the way we stopped at a salt lake for cool dip. Initially we had problems with the police, who were very concerned for our safety and were not happy with our diversion from the route, but eventually we were allowed to swim and interact with the locals who had also shown up for a dip.  The next day we were very lucky.  The blazing summer sun was subdued by cloud cover and the wind was in our favor.  Most riders covered the 140 kms to camp 4 to 5 hours.  We camped at Kow Ata, an underground thermal lake and place of legend and myth for Turkmen.  Located at the bottom of a cave 175 meters down a steep stone staircase the green, sulfuric, thermal lake is said to have all kinds of healing properties.  Climbing back out of the cave and towards the light you feel like you are ascending back from the river Styx.  We’ve found the people of Turkmenistan to be very friendly and curious.  80’s music seems very popular here.  The restaurant where I had dinner last night played a loop of Bruce Springsteen videos on a big flat screen and the cab driver who took me to the large bazaar outside the city played hits from Rod Stewart, Huey Lewis and Depeche Mode.  The Tolkuchka bazzar was really interesting.  Held on Thursdays, Saturdays and Sunday it is a very different from the city itself.  You walk by camels and sheep being lead into trucks by their new owner as you weave your way thru the vegetable market and back into to the carpet area.  Nearby are men selling Turmen hats and cloaks and women selling old jewelry and wedding costumes.  It’s a lively place that really gives you a sense of the countries history.  Tomorrow we head out of the city towards Mary and eventually to the Turkmenbat and the border with Uzbekistan.  Only 8 riding days left on tour.

My heart sank a bit when I heard the ‘Ferry Overlord’ (I have no idea what his real title is) said there would be no ferry again today.  “100 percent no ferry?,.. no chance at all?” I pleaded.  “No ferry, maybe” was his cryptic reply.  Aydin, our local support and the bane of my existence at times flashed me an all to familiar look that at the same time expressed his disappointment but also managed to say ‘ this is not my fault’.  Aydin had actually been very helpful in Baku.  He knew the city well and was well connected.  I knew he was trying his best to organize the ferry crossing for us but it’s just not a process that lends itself to organization. 

First of all, no one seems to know exactly what building to go to get whichever set of papers you need to get your clients, or your van or the bikes on the ferry.  We walked around the compound a few times, asking in one office only to be sent to another office and eventually sent back to the original office.  Secondly, no one knows when the ferry will arrive in dock.  Our ferry was currently sitting a few miles off shore waiting for the train to arrive.  The ferries mostly carry train cars and trucks loaded with goods, or oil or coal or whatever…  If the train doesn’t arrive on time there is no point in the ferry docking because berthing fees are quite high and it’s free to float in the middle of the Caspian.  Thirdly, no one has any idea which ferry will arrive.  There are anywhere from 3 to 7 ferries between Turkmenbashy and Baku depending on who you ask.  For some reason that I could not seem to understand no one knows which one will arrive in port at any give time, until of course it actually arrives.  The prices for passengers and cargo are different for each ferry so you can’t buy a ticket until they know which one will dock.  The workers at the dock have a way of making you feel like you should somehow understand all this and act really bored when you ask questions that might possibly clarify how you are going to get across the Caspian Sea on one of their boats.  

The dock area has a sort of typical industrial look to it.  Pretty basic cement buildings and your smattering of portable buildings.  Strangely though there is a bar/restaurant right in the middle.  When we visited the docks at midnight to buy our tickets at midnight the place was alive with music and dancing.  Old, obviously wealthy men, sat in tight circles having private discussions.  The whole place had a gangster feel to it, like this was the group of people who actually ran the docks.  I wasn’t really in the party mood though.  Not having slept because at any moment the ferry overlord could call and tell me to come get my tickets now or risk missing the only ferry to arrive in 2 days.  We got the tickets from a nice lady in a well lit office who was polite and efficient.  Then we were sent down an alley and around the back of the compound to get the ticket for the Mercedes Van.  For a second I thought we had been sent down the wrong way ( I also had a strong feeling I was about to get mugged) but sure enough a few hundred yards down the alley was a dim light coming from an open door.  Inside were two men smoking cigarettes, drinking vodka and watching TV.  Everyone at the docks has their own TV in their office.  The ferry overlord always had his set to a music channel.  These guys were watching some kind of Turkish soap opera.  Aydin spoke to them and laughed with them and finally they wrote a ticket, I paid and they promised to call when the ferry was unloaded and ready to take passengers. 

At 5 am on the 19th we got the call to head to the docks.  At 7 am we cleared customs and climbed on to the ship where a large Russian women took our passports and tickets and gave us rooms.  ‘NYET NYET, I KEEP!”  She screamed at me when I politely asked if we could have our passports back.  I wasn’t going to argue.  The Ferry departed at 9 am on the 19th.  I SMS’d out local support in Turkmenistan the name of the ferry and the departure time so they hopefully would be able to meet us on the other side without too much hassle. 

The ferry itself was quite pleasant.  In contrast to the ferry from Aswan that we take on the Africa tour this ferry had almost no people on it.  The rooms were spacious and almost clean.  The restaurant served decent food ( although I’m not totally convinced that rabbit was actually rabbit, but the crew ate it as well so….) I spent most of my time up on deck in the sole lounge chair the boat had to offer, placed the shade of a bulkhead.  It was quiet, there was a cool breeze and I slept for a good 8 hrs. 

At 11:30 pm on the 19th we reached the gulf in Turkmenbashy.  I could see the lights of the city and still had hopes that maybe the tour would actually stay on schedule despite this crazy ferry.  Then I heard the anchor drop.  At 11 am on the 20th the anchor came back up and at 1 pm we docked.  At 5 pm on the 20th we had finally cleared customs and rode to the hotel.  Then the trip started to get surreal. 

We rode thru Turkmenbashy to a new area call Avazar.  Two years ago this place didn’t exist, it was nothing but desert.  Now there are dozens of kilometers of well lit streets snaking everywhere.  Some go nowhere, others are lined with 15 story hotels all lit with pastel flood lights like you’d see in Daytona beach.   There are discos and casinos and something called a Children’s Hotel, the Turkmeni version of summer camp.  Currently the Children’s Hotel was filled with 50 Hatians who had been rescued from the recent earthquakes there (really).  There is also a canal that takes water out of the Caspian only to return it back again 8 kms later.  You can take a boat trip on the canal for 3 manat ($1).  “To see the nice hotels and bridges” was the response I got when I asked why I would want to take a boat trip on the canal.  “ To see the bridges that were built so cars could drive over the canal?”  “Yes”. 

We are staying at the Kuwwat Hotel. It’s fabulous.  5 Star.  The showers are hot and powerful, the A/C is cold the beds are big and firm and the staff is really helpful.  We were supposed to stay the Hotel Hazar.  A 4 story soviet era hotel where the water is on for 2 hrs a day and the cockroaches help you clean up after dinner.  Our local support change the venue, at no cost to us, so that a TV crew could interview and film us riding our bikes in the new Avazar area.  Avazar is  kind of a pet project of the President to help bolster tourism on the Caspian.   The Caspian is beautiful here and the beaches are nice, the hotels that have been built are luxurious and ridiculously cheap for what they offer.  I guess the TV crew felt that if they filmed us riding near the Hazar and the President saw it he would be very upset that they had filmed tourists at a decrepit old building when he had just financed this beautiful new tourist area.  So we got a nice upgrade and they got a nice bit of propaganda.  Fair enough.  If the rest of Turkmenistan is as interesting as this I’m gonna love it.

Finally, a border crossing where everythng goes to plan!! We had a great rest day in Mary and took in the impressive ruins at Merv as well as the enormous market out of town and the smaller regional museum. Then it was back on the bikes and back in the heat although tail winds made the going a little easier for the first couple of days. The roads are still flat and the policmen were still sitting on our tails but the desert eases in the eastern half of the country and there was some greenery to help us on our way. Cotton and grapes are the main crops here and we were able to stop and chat with the local pickers. There are also melons upon melons upon melons and Al has perfected his trick of balancing the biggest water melons on his bike and rides into camp each night fully loaded (although he did lose a couple in he beginning!) We said goodbye to Turkmenistan after two more bush camps and cycled from Turkmenabat to the border incident free. There was the usual red tape but everyone passed through no problem - even Miles and the van had it relatively easy - only 4 hours of form filling! The wind gods were against us however and the strongest headwind of the tour so far meant it was a real battle into Bukhara but it was worth it! lots of beer was flowing on our first night in Uzbekistan as now it feels like we are starting to make good progress - 4 countries down, 4 to go. It was also time to say goodbye to Paul (me) as I have headed up to Tashkent to carry on researching my next edition of Silk Roads. So no more Mr Cheeky's tours or T-shirts I'm afraid but Ben will continue the blogs from now on. The tour has been amazing and all the obstacles just add to the memories - thanks guys and I hope to see everyone again very very soon

Flat, flat, flat...but for once we are not talking about punctures (28 at the last count by the way!). We are now well and truly in the desert and after watching it from the comfort of a bus into Ashgabat, it was time we got dirty. The first day couldn't have been kinder. There was a nice cool breeze at our backs in the morning and new tarmac in the afternoon. What a way to welcome our new rider, Bill Dodds (UK). Those of you who followed the Silk Route last year will remember he rode Istanbul to Baku in 2007. He is now knocking off the middle section with a view to finishing off China next year. Welcome back! If the desert pampered us during the day, it took its revenge that night - a sandstorm followed by a rainstorm and then a windstorm - there was more than one rider up at 3am putting on their fly! Day two continued flat but now the heat was back. It was good-bye to the beautiful 2nd century ruins that had provided such a stunning backdrop to last night's camp. We headed out into the sand which was full of wild camels but not much greenery and even fewer coke stops! Fortunately, the staff managed to round up some refreshments for the evening. Water is very scarce so the tour is now a 'shower-free' zone but at least everyone smells and the camels don't seem to mind. The third day led us into Mary, Turkmenistan's second city, but really the only town of any significance in the area. The riders collapsed into the hotel and jumped into their baths - especially James who wanted to be spic and span for his birthday and who was happy to be finally free of the tenacious police escort that has relentlessly shadowed the cyclists for their visit in this country.

So just when we thought we were back on track the gods (particularly Neptune it seems) were once again against us. Having enjoyed the highlights (the old city is a real treat) and lowlights (the velodrome hotel is in urgent need of demolition) Baku had to offer we peddled our way to the port and merrily stood in line to board the good ship Professor Gul. And stood, and stood, and stood, and SLEPT and CAMPED and stood AGAIN, AND CAMPED AGAIN and SLEPT AGAIN! TWO AND A HALF DAYS LATER we were on board and ready to set sail. The crossing was smooth, the cabins comfortable and the crew hospitable - some of us we almost enjoying our 'cruise' when once again fate intervened and the crunch and grind of the anchor told us we were coming to a stop - 10km from shore! ANOTHER DAY ANOTHER DOLLAR - or in this case Azeri/Turkmen Manat! Back to bed we went (in fact moist of us preferred to sleep on deck to catch what there was of a breeze). So another day's delay but we would not be thwarted! We docked the next morning and after a mere 4 hours of thumb-twiddling we were allowed off the boat. That is when true ennui set in! TWELVE HOURS later the last of us (poor Manon and Nicole) had been processed through customs and we were allowed into the cardboard cut-out town of Turkmenbashi. One of us had joked that this 12 hour crossing was known to take up to 20 hours depending on how drunk the captain was - in fact it took us 5 DAYS!!!! That captain must have some hangover right now!!

The 'Great Leader, Father of All Turkmen' may have died but his spirit (and billboard-sized portraits) well and truly remain. We were 'escorted' by police throughout our catch-up bus journey to Ashgabat yesterday and it seems this trend will continue throughout our stay. Ashgabat is a parody of a great capital - all marble domes and pillars surrounded by exotic fountains and golden mosques. It would be funny if it wasn't for the fact people actually have to live here! Still, we are in a swanky hotel and the swimming pool for once has water in it!! We are back on schedule now, too, and tomorrow we will be mounting our bikes and ready to roll (today's highest temperature was 52* C, though, so perhaps the rolling will be a little on the slow side!) PS: please forgive your nearest and dearest if you have not heard from them for a while but the only Internet provider in Turkmenistan is dial-up and the whole country has less than a half dozen Internet cafes. Big Brother is definitely watching us!