09. Khiva

Blog entries, Locations
Kalta Minor, the unfinished minaret of Khiva

Kalta Minor, the unfinished minaret of Khiva

Well-preserved, albeit not so very ancient walled city with many attractive buildings, and an interesting bazaar to escape the flow of visitors

Although Khiva may well have existed for a very long time, and may even have been an oasis at the time of trade along the Silk Road, present day Khiva really only came into existence in the 16th Century – at a time that the overland trade was already in decline. Which might as well, because Khiva was chiefly known for its cruelty. My travel guidebook puts it nicely: “Treachery and murder suffused daily life, and too often trade took a backseat to theft”. The most successful trade was the slave market.

two Khiva men at the west gate of the walled city

another man, contemplating

another man, contemplating

one of the local tourists

one of the local tourists

and a young boy in the backstreets of Khiva

This would be the khanate’s downfall, in the end increasingly powerful Russia was quickly getting fed up with its caravans being plundered and its citizens being abducted and sold into slavery. Yet it took three campaigns to finally subdue Khiva: the first, in 1717, was a typical example of Khivan treachery, the khan warmly welcoming the 4000 Russian troops, offering them accommodation and distributing them in small groups over houses all over town, to subsequently massacre each of the groups to the man. For good measure the expedition’s leader was tortured, flayed and his skin stretched over a drum. The second expedition, 100 years later, never made it to Khiva, as the Russians got stuck in the winter snow, but the third, in 1873 – and with what Rudyard Kipling named the Great Game heating up, the rivalry between Tsarist Russia and Britain over dominance over the region between India and Russia – the third campaign was decisive in that it turned Khiva in all but a vazal state to the Tsars.

 

 

the view from our hotel, the outside wall

the view from our hotel, the outside wall

our hotel, attractive balcony

our hotel, attractive balcony

Khiva’s main attraction is the Ichan Kale, the walled city that was declared a museum town during Soviet times, its mostly 18th and 19th Century buildings restored. Our small hotel was right outside the main entrance gate, and from our comfortable terrace we observed the wall, and the watch tower of the Khan’s palace. As well as the arrival of hundreds of busses on the Sunday morning, between 9 and 10 am: what we didn’t know was that at the end of the school year, in May, schools in the wide surroundings organise an end-of-year trip for the children, and since there is really only one place to go, all turn up in Khiva, on a Saturday or a Sunday in May. Same Sunday we were there…

drinks seller in the old town

drinks seller in the old town

souvenirs, woolen hats in summer (did I miss something?)

souvenirs, woolen hats in summer (did I miss something?)

And yet, although it was very busy, for most of the day, and there was the occasional “hello”, and the occasional posing in the photo with the foreigner, the kids were extremely polite, well-behaved – we have often experienced the opposite in many other places in the world. And not only the kids. The inevitable souvenir stall holders, the tourist guides, the waiters outside restaurants, nobody forced their wares, their services upon you, everybody assumes that the tourist is intelligent enough to make up his own mind, make his own choice, without having to be pestered every moment of the day. So it is possible! Let the Egypts and the Ethiopias, the Indias and the Indonesias of the world take note.

roasted corn for sale in the bazaar

the mobile clay oven, and a cook selling samsas to a brave tourist

the mobile clay oven, and a cook selling samsas to a brave tourist

broom seller having his lunch

broom seller having his lunch

wooden, decorated baby cots, note the strategically positioned holes

wooden, decorated baby cots, note the strategically positioned holes

market woman with potatos

market woman with potatos

water carrier, although to be fair, these bottles are empty

water carrier, although to be fair, these bottles are empty

To avoid the crowds, we wandered the bazaar for a while, appreciating the local produce and enjoying some of the local snacks. Top on the list in terms of local products were the baby cots with a hole at the bottom, for obvious reasons, and from the snacks the samsas, pastries filled with meat that are cooked on the inside of big, mobile clay ovens, did particularly well. This is also the area where men with large bags quite openly exchange money, undisturbed by passing policemen.

Later in the day, after the children had left, we explored the walled city again. Khiva’s defining monument is, funny enough, a half-finished minaret, called the Kalta Minor. The story goes that the khan at the time wanted the tallest minaret on earth, at least taller than in rivalling Bukhara, but when he found out that the architect he had commissioned had secretly agreed with the emir of Bukhara to build an even higher minaret, he threw him of the unfinished tower. Perfectly in line with the reputation of Khiva (and to be fair, the reputation of Bukhara was not much better). I could talk about all the fabulous madrassas, the religious schools, or the palaces and the mosques, but guide books do a better job. Save to say that my favourites were the Juma mosque, a huge prayer hall with hundreds of decorated wooden beams upholding the roof, and a couple of open courtyards providing light, and the Tash Hauli palace, a total of three beautifully decorated and colourfully tiled courtyards, the biggest one for the harem of the khan, and two more, accessed through a separate entrance, for reception and for dispensing justice (some would say dispensing judgement…). Fittingly, the first architect who was commissioned to build the palace, humbly suggested that the three years in which the khan wanted it finished may not be enough, and was subsequently impaled.

A gallery of pictures is the most efficient way to give you a taste of the Khivan monuments.

08. the mud castles

Blog entries

a mud-walled corridor in Toprak Kale

The desert between Nukus and Khiva contains a range of ancient castles, impressive solitary hill top fortifications that are fun to climb and explore.

Outside Nukus we have already seen the remains of one of the ancient mud-brick forts in Karakalpakstan, but there are many more in the area, and in the Khorezm province nearer to Khiva. Assuming a certain similarity between these castles, we opted to go and see just a few, en route from Nukus to Khiva.

Ayaz Kale, two castles visible from far, perching on the only rocky outcrop in the surroundings

Ayaz Kale, two castles visible from far, perching on the only rocky outcrop in the surroundings

Why anybody would have wanted to build a castle, in the middle of the desert, was long unclear to me, until I read somewhere that originally, say 2-3000 years ago, the Amu Darya just vanished in the desert, in a large swampy delta, which created a fertile zone attracting lots of population – and population, of course, needs to be controlled by war lords, I suspect not different from the present day situation in Afghanistan or Somalia. In any case, the few sources on these castles are somewhat vague on their original construction, placing that the earliest fortifications in the 7th Century BC, with other structures variably put up in the 2nd to the 12th Century AD. Whatever is the case, they have been falling apart for the last hundreds of years, apparently because the Amu Darya forced a connection to the Aral Sea, thereby draining the wetlands of the surrounding area and turning them into desert (so one could argue that the irrigation schemes now draining the Aral Sea are in fact putting things right again…).

also the outskirts of Nukus: stocking up for the long ride through the deserts

also the outskirts of Nukus: stocking up for the long ride through the deserts

soon, the country outside Nukus becomes rather monotonous

soon, the country outside Nukus becomes rather monotonous

Chilpak Kale, along the road, an impressive hill top

Chilpak Kale, along the road, an impressive hill top

except for the cut-out, cardboard police cars

except for the cut-out, cardboard police cars

We managed to find a driver and a car prepared to bring us all the way, a long drive through a rather featureless desert, the only excitement an occasional distant fort, or a cut-out police car – to temper the speeding, I suppose, which cannot be very effective given that almost every driver here is a local, and once you have seen the cardboard car, it won’t scare you anymore. What does impress the people is real police, or the anticipation of real police: close to known police check points our driver slowed down, significantly, and even put on his seat belt. Sheer fear of what police can do to you, at the least of infringements.

the entrance of Toprakkale

the entrance of Toprakkale

The vegetation varies, from little to very little, yet there are occasional cows roaming around that find still something to graze on. Sure enough, we also encounter the odd camel, along the road.

 

Near the village of Boston – really – we turn off the main road to enter what is called Ellakoale, meaning fifty castles. As I said, we would be opting for a few only….

this wall must have stood for hundreds, if not a thousand years, and is construction-wise not different from what the people do now

nowadays, the fort is mostly populated by birds

the underground rooms, now roof-less

Uzbeks love having their picture taken, even if they are drunk; these were the only other visitors

the lower of the two Ayaz Kale's

the lower of the two Ayaz Kale’s

view of the upper Ayaz Kale

view of the upper Ayaz Kale

part fo the defenses of Ayaz Kale are still standing

The castles are, well, somewhat as expected, mud piles in the desert. They must have been impressive structures, once, but lack of maintenance makes them crumble ever more. Yet, it is a great feeling to be wandering around these places, without any other tourists: we are the only ones here, except for a group of drunk locals who clearly expected to have the place to themselves, too, and didn’t seem to appreciate being disturbed, observed. Toprak Kale is apparently an old Royal fort, with underground, now-roofless chambers inside a fairly large walled structure, Koy Krylgan Kale was touted as a perfectly round fortified structure, which did not impress us that much – round, OK, but perfect is hard to see with so little of the walls remaining, and fortified no more, whilst Ayun Kale is the largest of the three, and apparently the largest of all, a huge hill top construction on a rocky base, with a lower second castle nearby.

a modern house, using the same materials as were used for the Kale's

a modern house, using the same materials as were used for the Kale’s

Altogether a worthwhile excursion, not in the least because driving from one to the other also gives us the chance to observe rural life, mostly dominated by the cotton culture. It is April, time to saw, and lots of people are busy in the fields, some of which already show the distinct green lines of cotton seeds turning into plants. Nearer to Khiva, this area is obviously more prosperous, and houses vary from neatly built mud-walled structures to whole compounds of modern, single story villas – although many of the latter ones are still conspicuously empty. Although in the desert you come across the inevitable rubbish, the houses and yards are spotless clean, the gardens well maintained.

a rare view, but there are still some donkey carts around

a rare view, but there are still some donkey carts around

entrance of a simple rural house around Boston

entrance of a simple rural house around Boston

The last part of the trip, to Khiva, we once more cross the Amu Darya, across a large, modern bridge. Police check points of either side, of course, and many travellers have reported that they had to show passports: after all, you are now leaving Karakalpakstan! In our case, the smart phones of policemen kept them sufficiently occupied not to bother any tourists.

cotton, endless cotton

07. the Aral Sea

Blog entries
rivers

the two rivers that are supposed to feed the Aral Sea, the northern Syr Darya and the southern Amu Darya

stranded boats near Moynaq - 1 (courtesy Marcin Zielonka)

stranded boats near Moynaq – 1 (courtesy Marcin Zielonka)

The story of the Aral Sea is pretty well known, I think. Once the world’s fourth largest inland water body, on the border between Kazachstan and Uzbekistan, this lake has been reduced to less than 10% of its original size thanks to the introduction of a cotton mono-culture. Cotton requires extensive irrigation, for which the water of the two main rivers in Central Asia, the Syr Darya and the Amu Darya, was used, robbing the Aral Sea of its inflow. The Fergana Valley in Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan, uses most of the Syr Darya, and parts of Tajikistan and the areas around Smamarkand, Bhukara and Khiva drain the Amu Darya. All this causes an environmental disaster: excessive salination of the water reduced the fish stocks to a pittance, and the receding water line changed the climate, turning summers hotter and winters longer and colder. Besides, it did away with lots of economic activity, like fishing, and work in fish processing factories. What doesn’t help is that, thanks to weapons testing, fertilizer run-off and waste of heavy industries, the lake bottom is badly polluted, which is now exposed to wind, carrying toxic chemicals around affecting people’s health. And the worst is, the Soviets, when introducing the mono-culture, were perfectly well aware of the impact this was to have on the Aral Sea. And then ignored it.

a satelite image then (1989) and now (2014), which I pinched from Wkipedia, nicely illustrates the point

a satelite image then (1989) and now (2014), which I pinched from Wikipedia, nicely illustrates the point

I am the type of person that wants to see it all. But getting to the Aral Sea, from Nukus, is a two-day trip, and what exactly do you get for that? Aziz Murtazaev, a native of Karakalpakstan, made the trip, and published an extensive trip report, with stacks of photos (http://caravanistan.com/trip-reports/aral-sea-trip/ ), which convinced me that I did not necessarily needed to make the trip myself. Endless desert landscape, until, somewhere, one reaches a bunch of rusted, stranded fishing boats in the middle of nowhere – where the lake used to be -, and then finally, another couple of hours with a 4WD further, the lake shore. The lake is still sizable enough not to see the other side, so in effect it doesn’t matter where the shore is, on the ground you get little about the fate of the Aral Sea. And then you need to drive back again.

But, not having been there means that I haven’t got my own pictures. But Marcin Zielonka, a Polish guy who I met on the way to Bukhara, did, and kindly made some of his photos available; after all, no Aral Sea story is complete without them.

stranded boats near Moynaq - 5 (courtesy Marcin Zielonka)

stranded boats near Moynaq – 5 (courtesy Marcin Zielonka)

stranded boats near Moynaq - 2 (courtesy Marcin Zielonka)

stranded boats near Moynaq – 2 (courtesy Marcin Zielonka)

stranded boats near Moynaq - 6 (courtesy Marcin Zielonka)

stranded boats near Moynaq – 6 (courtesy Marcin Zielonka)

stranded boats near Moynaq - 7 (courtesy Marcin Zielonka)

stranded boats near Moynaq – 7 (courtesy Marcin Zielonka)

stranded boats near Moynaq - 4 (courtesy Marcin Zielonka)

stranded boats near Moynaq – 4 (courtesy Marcin Zielonka)

stranded boats near Moynaq - 8 (courtesy Marcin Zielonka)

stranded boats near Moynaq – 8 (courtesy Marcin Zielonka)

06. the museum

Blog entries, Gallery

outide the Nukus Museum

There is not much in Nukus, the capital of Karakalpakstan, except for the State Museum of Arts. But what a museum it is, full of once-forbidden Russian avant-garde art.

Karakalpakstan isn’t the most exciting part of Uzbekistan, its capital city Nukus is – hopefully – also not the most exciting town. But it has one unique feature: the Nukus Museum, short for the “Karakalpak State Museum of Arts named after I.V.Savitsky”.

In the 1950s Igor Savitsky, a artist-painter working from Moscow, joined an archeological and ethnological excavation to Korezm, a historical site in Karakalpakstan. He attached himself as the expedition’s artist, but soon also began to collect artefacts, carpets, utensils and local art works. After the expedition had finished he stayed on in the region, and managed to convince the authorities to set up a local museum – which was opened in 1966, with Savitsky as director. The ethnological section was soon joined by a Fine Art section filled with work of local artists, greatly who had been greatly encouraged by Savitsky. So far nothing out of the ordinary, and nothing worth coming to Nukus for, with all respect.

But then Savitsky somehow also managed to access the huge amounts of Russian avant-garde art of the early 20th Century, much of it banned by Stalin as anti-revolutionary, or formalist, or bourgeois, or anything else that did not stroke with the ideas of the Soviet regime. All these forbidden works had been hidden from view – begging the question how Savitsky knew so much about it, but never mind -, in museum vaults, or in the attics of out-of-favour artists or their surviving relatives. He went on to build an enormous collection, estimated at over 50,000 works of art – paintings, sculptures, drawings, sketches, collages – by arguing with museum directors and convincing relatives to part with the works, occasionally paying for them. Paying with state funds, to be sure, because the amiable Savitsky also managed to access public money for his hobby. It has been suggested that the authorities went along because Nukus, where the collection was to be housed, was about as remote a place as one could imagine in the Soviet Union, but this does in no way diminish the achievement establishing this extraordinary collection, and displaying it, too.

Savitsky died in 1984, but his museum continued in the relative obscurity of Nukus, until with the break-up of the Soviet Union in 1991 the world slowly started to learn about it, attracting increasing attention, and with it, increasing amounts of money. Currently, only some 2-3% of the works can be displayed in the museum, but construction is underway to enlarge the exhibition space.

We weren’t disappointed. Although we were initially directed to some exhibition of local artist, nice enough but again, not something one comes all the way to Nukus for, we ended up on the third floor, which is where the real thing is, an overwhelming amount of paintings, but also drawings, water colours, gouaches and sketches, from the 1920s and 30s. Somehow, Kandinsky and Chagall haven’t made it to the museum, but there is so much to enjoy, so much I wouldn’t mind hanging on my walls at home. Fabulous (that is, if you like this type of art, and luckily we do). Never seen anything like it, and we do visit other museums and exhibitions, so once on a while. Yet, I wonder how long the museum will be able to resist monetising part of the collection, in this poorest of ex-Soviet corners of the world. From tourism alone the people won’t survive, here.

The Collection

Although photography is prohibitively expensive in the museum, I did pay the fee, and took hundreds of photos, which I will work into a gallery some other time in the future – unfortunately, there isn’t much of a catalogue, and what is available, is in Russian.  Below I have given a few examples of the works, drawn from the museum’s website. Which also gives some interesting reference to the artists, and the hardship they had to endure based on their being avant-garde artists. Many of them did not die a natural death. Lev Galperin was arrested in 1934 accused of producing counter-revolutionary paintings and depicting the Soviet leaders disrespectful: five years imprisonment ended with “execution by shooting”. Vladimir Komarovsky, a well-known icon-painter, was arrested several times, the last time, in 1937, for being part of a Counter-Revolutionary Illegal Monarchic Union of Church-goers, refused to plead guilty, and was shot. Vasily Shukhaev left Russia in 1920 to travel to France and Morocco, only to be arrested for trumped-up espionage charges when he returned 15 years later. He actually survived the correctional labour camp. Others were sent into exile and never heard from again. And many somehow accommodated to the system, and kept working in promotional campaigns, designing posters and book illustrations, or as restorers of approved master pieces. Whatever they choose, or whatever was chosen for them, most didn’t develop their artistic skills much further after the 1930s.

What is left – probably only a fraction of what has been produced – is definitely worth seeing, though. Nukus Museum, highly recommended.

05. Nukus

Blog entries, Locations
a door in Nukus

a door in Nukus

Soviet-style town, capital of Karakalpakstan, Nukus has little to offer the visitor, except for a view of the river, a hyge cemetery, and especially, the museum.

Our first stop this journey is Nukus, the capital of our first ‘stan’, Karakalpakstan – technically not a real ‘stan’, because it was never an autonomous SSR (Socialist Soviet Republic), but only an autonomous region within Uzbekistan. According to our guidebook, Nukus “is of limited interest to either tourists or inhabitants”. Which is a little harsh. It is actually an example of how the Soviets went about designing a new town. Ella Maillart, a Swiss woman who travelled what was then called Turkestan in 1933, arrived at the village of Nukuss on her way back to Moskou, to be told that soon they would be building a new city here. They did.

central mosque of Nukus

central mosque of Nukus

an appartment building in the centre of town

an appartment building in the centre of town

the government builing which one is forbidden to photograph

the government builing which one is forbidden to photograph

Wide avenues, non-descript office buildings that in nothing seen to be different from the apartment buildings, my favourite ‘ palatis’ (an Albanian term that refers to housing blocks five or six floors high – so that you don’t need to install an elevator – and constructed with as little architectural fantasy as possible; although, to be fair, there is some attempt in decoration at some of the buildings). There is no town centre, or it must be a junction where two restaurants, a fake flower shop and a fruit beer and ice-cream garden come together. One can wander for hours – well, for quite a while, anyhow – along the streets without encountering anybody, any shop or coffee house, and just walking around the local parliament building, which one is not allowed to photograph, will take you 20 minutes.

the mighty Amu Darya, on its way to the Aral Sea

the mighty Amu Darya, on its way to the Aral Sea

Furthermore, Nukus is a good base from which to explore the Aral Sea, something we do not intend to do. Nukus is on the Amu Darya, the river that used to feed the Aral Sea, but doesn’t anymore, thanks to excessive water use for irrigation – the same Ella Maillart travelled the Amu Darya by boat in 1933 when the river was still some two miles wide after the rains, which is now quite impossible, I should think.

Gyaule Kale, outside Nukus

Gyaule Kale, outside Nukus

the last remaining wall, and several chambers in front

the last remaining wall, and several chambers in front

view of the Mizdarkhan cemetry, from the Gyaule Kale

view of the Mizdarkhan cemetry, from the Gyaule Kale

Outside Nukus is a nondescript desert fort, Gyaule Kale, from which just a few pieces of the mud walls stand upright (but which is an obviously attractive meeting place for young couples, several of which we disturbed in their intent to get to know each other better). From the Kale one has a great view over Mizdarkhan cemetery, which according to local sources is already in use for well over a thousand years. The cemetery, spilling out over a hill, does indeed have some old looking tombs and mausoleums, but even many of the more recent graves look unkempt, burial chambers having collapsed, wooden and corrugated iron roof parts falling down. I have a weak spot for cemeteries, and enjoy wandering around for a while, in this case specifically enjoying the wide variety of graves, indeed from mausoleum to simple wooden marker, but that it not enough to come all the way to Nukus.

this is supposed to be the oldest mausoleum,or what is left, perhaps 12th Centry?

this is supposed to be the oldest mausoleum,or what is left, perhaps 12th Centry?

So why on earth did we come to Nukus? Because it has one other attraction, but what an attraction it is. Nukus has the museum!

the variety of tombs is remarkable

the variety of tombs is remarkable

a collapsed underground burial chamber

and the simplest of markings

several tombs in the cemetery

several tombs in the cemetery

 

04. the arrival

Blog entries

The planning was perfect, as always: an afternoon flight from Amsterdam, change in Kiev (at this moment a safer bet, I think, that Athens, for instance), arrive early morning in Tashkent and connect less than three hours later to Nukus, our first destination. A bit of a tough night, but he, you can sleep on a plane, right?

Less than 24 hours before departure the Kiev-Tashkent flight was cancelled, and we were re-routed via Rome (still not Athens, at least), but with a very early morning departure from Amsterdam, and a connection on Uzbekistan Airlines. A trip down memory lane. I don’t know when they started building Boings 757, but the first one must be still flying for Uzbekistan Airways. Without ever having been refurbished. Remember the television screens that flap down from the ceiling? The very small ones, yes. Everything else was equally nineteen-seventies, the food, the pepsi cola, the stewardesses, the head phones, even the films (Yogi Bear!). And the leg space, folded double behind the seat in front of me. But he, you can sleep on a plane, right?

Long story – long flight – short, we did arrive in Tashkent. Notwithstanding the friendly Consul in Brussels, entry into Uzbekistan is not necessarily the most inviting you have ever had. For starters, you are issued with “Important Travel Information”. This paper explains, among other things, that you need to register with the police within three days of arrival. Hotels will do this for you, but couch surfing is not an option, neither are other forms of home stay, or campings – they do not register you. Failure to register, or a gap in your registration, may generate a $1000,- penalty, and, I quote, “may result in immediate deportation at your own cost. Neither your Embassy nor friends in Uzbekistan can do anything to circumvent this rule”. Well, I doubt that last statement, I am sure that with the right friends in Uzbekistan quite a lot is possible, but we don’t have them, so we better adhere to the rule. Another one is that you need to declare all cash over $500,- upon arrival in the country, for which you get a declaration. Failure to produce this declaration later for the cash on you “may result is legal confiscation of your cash and a fine”. They are kind enough to point out that your cash, when you leave again, should be ready for inspection at customs control, and nowhere else – suggesting plenty of opportunistic scams in the vicinity of customs control!

But in line with our Consul experience, people at the airport were equally friendly. Customs was a breeze, and in the absence of any other traffic, luggage arrived in no time. We did declare all our cash, quite a bit because ATMs and credit cards haven’t penetrated to this part of the world yet. Several forms to be filled in, by hand, even more stamps put on the forms, but all together entry into Uzbekistan was rather smooth. Next is changing some money, to pay a taxi, something to munch, and a hotel – our early arrival now necessitated a hotel. This actually took longer than all customs procedures together: two young ladies spent a good 10 minutes filling in more forms, checking other forms, and my passport once more, and then adding further stamps to the earlier forms. Finally one of them handed me the cash, a stack of notes 20 cms high, a good 50,000 som in notes of 1000. Now we need an extra backpack! And lucky us, that we changed officially, at the bank, because later on we learned that there is also a thriving black market, which pays up to 50% more for your dollars. That would have been 30 cms!

It was dark, and besides, you are not allowed to take pictures from the plane, so no photos yet.

03. the visas

Blog entries

You don’t just go to the Stans, no, you need major advance preparation to collect all the necessary visas and permits; but, we managed!

First the good news: for Dutch citizens, as for most citizens from OECD countries, Kirgizstan is since a couple of years visa-free. And, equally important if you are travelling overland, apparently the border guards know this, too. Another bit of good news: the Kazakh government is currently experimenting with  visa-free travel for 10 countries, amongst which The Netherlands, a  trial from 15 July 2014 to 15 July 2015: we’ll make that well in time should we opt for the Almaty excursion.

For the other two countries, Uzbekistan and Tajikistan, we will need visas.

Uzbekistan, despite its dazzling tourist sites Samarkand and Bukhara, is the more difficult of the two. It demands that you have a Letter of Invitation (LOI) before you apply for a visa. But I don’t know anybody in Uzbekistan? Ah, try a travel agency, they can help you. If you also book a tour through them, of course, why else would they help you? In fact, I did find an agency (www.stantours.com) willing to arrange our LOIs, for the humble sum of $70,- each, upfront payment and no guarantee (to be fair, the travel agency will have to apply, on your behalf, at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and I don’t know what else they need to do, so there is some work involved, as well as a certain amount of goodwill from the Ministry). What happens next, is entirely up to the embassy, and seems to be fairly random, from reports on the internet. Some embassies issue a visa on the spot, as long as you have your LOI. Others take 2-5 days, and charge a seemingly arbitrary amount of money, everywhere between $65 and $180. Without LOI, things take much longer.

The biggest limitation, however, is that an Uzbek visa is issued for a maximum of 30 days. And we fly back from Tashkent six weeks after arrival. Now there are transit visas, but what is needed for those is completely unclear. Some say a ticket is enough, others claim that one needs another LOI; some say you get your transit visa in a day, others have been waiting a week.

So I called the Consulate in Brussels, in Belgium. Press one for English, two for French and three for Russian. So I pressed one. “Bonjour?” Ah, do you speak English, after all, I pressed one, right?. “Non, seulement Francais”. And Russian, of course, but that is even more difficult for me. Yet, in the end we managed to communicate well, and I was offered a multiple entry visa instead. But what about the maximum 30 days? No problem, just come to the Consulate. And so I did, and so I got my visa for two months, double entry. “Ah, vous n’avez pas d’argent? Just pay the fees into our bank account when you get home”. Where in the world? This bodes well for Uzbekistan, very well, indeed, if all the Uzbeks are like the consul.

A Tajikistan visa is relatively straight-forward, or so it seems. They have done away with the idea that visitors need an LOI, and visas are issued by embassies and consulates around the world. Well, wherever there is an embassy or consulate, of course, and the nearest one for us in Brussels, too. Once again, reports on costs and processing time vary, but everybody on internet agrees that the visa is date-specific, ie issued with a specific start and end date. Except the Tajik Embassy in Brussels, who keeps telling me that the visa is valid from the date of issuing: so if I am too early requesting it, my visa will have expired by the time I arrive in Tajikistan! With the visa, or so it seems, the embassy can also issue a GBAO permit, which allows us to travel in the Autonomous Region of Gorno-Badakshan, the area bordering Afghanistan, which is also the area traversed by the Pamir Highway. Why you need a special permit? Beats me. In the end, they do issue the visa, no hassle, and the permit, no hassle, and it is date-specific, ie valid by the time we arrive there. Very friendly people, again, full of suggestions for our trip, and a road map and a set of postcards thrown in as a present. Once again, where in the world?

Oh, and by the time we have all we need in terms of permits and visas, we will have spent well over $300 per person on paperwork alone.

 

But, we are set to go! What can possibly go wrong, now we have our paperwork in order, and our return ticket with Ukrainian Airways?

02. the Stans plan continued

Blog entries

Having adjusted our route several times, on account of visa and or time limitations, we have now a kind of a plan, through Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan

Not every country that ends on ‘stan’ is automatically considered one of the Stans. Afghanistan, Pakistan, they are entities in their own right, with their own specific problems. The Stans, that refers generally to the five ex-Soviet republics in Central Asia, Kazakhstan being the biggest, Uzbekistan the most populous, Turkmenistan the most dictatorial, Kirgizstan the most liberal and Tajikistan the poorest. Mind you, each of these five are also entities in their own right, with their own specific idiosyncrasies, their oddities and their challenges. But having been part of the Soviet Union also has created similarities, which somewhat justifies grouping them as the Stans.

Our initial plan was to go back to Kashgar, in westernmost China, cross into Kyrgyzstan, then travel the Pamir Highway in Tajikistan, and continue on the other side of the mountains to the desert oases of Uzbekistan. With time on hand, we could attempt to enter Turkmenistan and take a ferry across the Caspian Sea to Baku in Azerbaijan. But as we wanted to travel in the first half of the year, we quickly realised we had to travel the other way, from the Uzbek desert in May, before it becomes too hot, to the Tajik mountain passes in June, after the snow has melted. Further research put further limitations to the plan. To travel from Baku to Turkmenbasy, the Caspian port in Turkmenistan, is quite possible, but timings are tricky, because ships may have to wait offshore for up to three days if the port of Turkmenbasy is full. No problem, except that your Turkmen transit visa is valid for a maximum of 3 days (some sources say 5, sometimes), so may have expired even before you set foot on land. As there is not that much to see in Turkmenistan, we settled for starting in Uzbekistan, instead. Next, ending up in China may be problematic, because entering from Kyrgyzstan, and just visiting Kashgar in the restless Chinese province of Xinjiang is not going to go down well with Chinese officials issuing visas; besides, it would add quite some extra time to the trip. So we skipped that idea, too – more about the other visas later!

cis_central_asia

The planned route: In the end we will be flying to the Uzbek capital Tashkent, and from there take a plane west to Nukus. Then we will work our way back eastwards again past Khiva (near Urgench, on the map), Bukhara and Samarkand, and past Tashkent further east into the Uzbek part of the Fergana Valley. From there we try to get into Kyrgyzstan via Andijan and Osh, spent a week or so in the vicinity of Bishkek and the large Issy Kul lake, possibly with an excursion to Almaty in Kazakhstan. Lastly we return to Osh, from where we move south into Tajikistan, and from east to west across the Pamir Highway, partly following the border with Afghanistan, to Khorogh and Dushanbe, and then on to Tashkent again, for our flight back home.

Six weeks. Not a lot of time, but enough to get a good impression of Central Asia. And enough to give you an impression, too, through this blog. So watch this space, in May and June.

01. the Stans plan

Blog entries

Our next journey will explore some of the relatively newly independent republics in Central Asia, as a continuation of our earlier Silk Road trip.

Years ago, whilst living in China, Sofia and I travelled the Silk Road, seven weeks from east to west China, from Xian to Kashgar, and then across the Karakoram Highway into Pakistan. Thoroughly exciting, thoroughly adventurous. However, the Silk Road was much more than that, a complex set of routes branching off in different directions, and one important part continued into Central Asia, across mountains with impressive names like the Pamirs and the Hindu Kush, and to exotic-sounding ancient places like Samarkand and Bukhara. We vowed to come back one day, to continue where we left it.

Fifteen years later we still haven’t returned: after all, there are so many other interesting destinations in the world. However, we also realise that more and more destinations become no-go areas. Mali, Niger and Chad were high on our list, until secessionists teamed up with jihadists to turn Mali into a war zone too dangerous for your average adventure tourist; Syria would have been part of our Middle East trip three years ago, but the uglier side of the Arab Spring prevented us from going much further than Lebanon; and just last year we had firm plans to continue our South Eastern Europe trip into the Crimea, until Russia decided to annex the place and close its borders – even without closed borders, we probably would have thought twice about going, anyhow.

Back to the Stans, this group of countries in Central Asia through which the ancient Silk Road continued its westward extension, across the Pamirs and past Samarkand and Bukhara. Some 25 years after the collapse of the Soviet Union you can hardly call them ex-Soviet republics anymore, some have had their share of internal unrest and civil war, other have played a role in world energy policies thank to huge fossil fuel reserves, or in security issues thanks to their position along the border of conflict-ridden Afghanistan, benefitting from both American and Russian strategic interest. Yet what they do seem to have in common is a rather limited idea of democracy, and fairly despotic rulers, including some septuagenarian and octogenarian presidents-for-life who are not getting any younger. What if one of them dies? Would his fiefdom turn into another target for Russian expansionism? Or, alternatively, would tribal interest, with our without jihadist overtones, take hold of such country, turning it into another Afghanistan, or an extension of the Caliphate? Whatever happens, it seems best to not risk postponing our Silk Road continuation plans any longer, and benefit from the relative stability of dictatorial rule as long as it lasts.

So, off to the Stans, this summer.

Labuanbaju to Larantuka (3)

Articles
work in the padis near Larantuka

work in the padis near Larantuka

From Ende land inwards, to Moni and the Kelimutu crater lakes, and then on to the north coast beaches, and the towns of Maumere and Larantuka

Kelimutu

Kelimutu

The road continues inland, zigzagging through the mountains, valleys dominated by rice padis – beautiful in the late afternoon sun – to Moni. This small village is the base for Flores’ biggest tourist attraction, the three differently coloured lakes at the top of Kelimutu volcano. In fact, to facilitate the hordes, a tarmac road up the mountain reduces the four hour climb to a half-hour drive, and a 15 minute stroll across a well-laid path and on concrete stairs, to Inspiration Point, another concrete monument from where all three lakes are visible. As with all these attractions, sunrise is touted as the best time to visit, so at 4 am there is a flurry of activities in preparation of the ascent – and my hotel was such that, like it or not, you ‘ll wake up. In this case, someone had started a truck engine next to my room at 4, and helpfully blew the horn a little later, to ensure that everyone knew about it. In reality, it is probably best to get up much later, and avoid the chill at the top, and the wait until the sun is really high up, which is when the lakes start taking their distinct colours of turquoise, black and brown. And the best place to see the lakes is in fact at the crater rim, where there is a promontory that allows you to sit in between two of the lakes, with a fantastic view – but not for the faint hearted, or those suffering from vertigo, as the crater walls plunge vertically down to lake level, perhaps 100-200 meters below.

two crater lakes, with a natural barrier in between

two crater lakes, with a natural barrier in between

they are steep slopes, into the lakes...

they are steep slopes, into the lakes…

the padis near Moni, in the early morning sun

the padis near Moni, in the early morning sun

a court yard in Moni

a court yard in Moni

laundry drying, in Moni

laundry drying, in Moni

steep, tall roof

steep, tall roof

Moni's Rumah Adats, well patched up

Moni’s Rumah Adats, well patched up

Driving back to Moni was also beautiful, as in the early morning sun the light green padis were as spectacular as they get.

 

The village itself supports a Rumah Adat, but for the rest the place it totally geared up for the tourists, and not in the best sense: arrogance, poor service, and worse. So leaving was not that difficult, except that my driver had disappeared….

Stranded: Moni was also the place where my driver decided to abandon the trip, and worse, to take the car with him. He had asked for an extra advance, to replace the badly damaged flat tire we had had the previous day, and he must have coolly calculated that he had now received more than he was due on a daily basis, and thus he left, back to Labuanbaju, whilst leaving me in my hotel waiting for him to change the tire – which he no doubt never bought. He did have the decency to leave the three plastic bags with artifacts I had bought on the way somewhere along the road opposite the hotel, something the hotel staff casually pointed out about an hour later – they were obviously part of this scam, as well as everybody else around me, making me feel even more stupid than I already did. An unfortunately negative blob on an otherwise very positive journey. Luckily I got a ride from other tourists,

one of the traditional houses in Wolomere

one of the traditional houses in Wolomere

the surf at Paga beach, on the north coast

the surf at Paga beach, on the north coast

fishing boat in Wufing

fishing boat in Wufing

the village of Wufing, largely on stilts

the village of Wufing, largely on stilts

where the women of Wufing dry their laundry

where the women of Wufing dry their laundry

one of the village houses, at low tide

one of the village houses, at low tide

at least the kids have a good time, posing for the photo

at least the kids have a good time, posing for the photo

It took only 3-4 hours to Maumere, the largest town on the island, despite stops in Wolomere, yet another type of traditional village with another type of houses, and Paga, at the beach, a delightful stretch of sand and a strong surf. Just before Maumere is Wufing, a fishing village largely built on stilts.

Maumere being the biggest town on the island still does not mean much, you explore the center in less than an hour, spending most of the time in the harbour, which sees some big passenger ferries.

market woman in Talibura

market woman in Talibura

fisherman in Nanggaha

fisherman in Nanggaha

the dusty village of Nanggaha

the dusty village of Nanggaha

salt drying in Nanggaha

salt drying in Nanggaha

boat bulding, also in Naggaha

boat bulding, also in Naggaha

the preferred way of transport, being transported

the preferred way of transport, being transported

nets in Talibura

nets in Talibura

plenty flip-flops for sale in the Talibura market

plenty flip-flops for sale in the Talibura market

East of Maumere the road follows the coast, past Gunung Egon, another volcano, and past some very beautiful villages, like the boat building and salt processing center of Nanggahale, and the market village of Talibura. Then into the low hills, and under the towering presence of the twin volcano Lewotobi, with the peaks “male and ladies”, according to my driver, and down to the east coast – padi culture area again – and the busy small port of Larantuka, with a flurry of activities and boats and ferries coming and going, to further away parts of the archipelago.

fishing canoe along the beach

fishing canoe along the beach

The Merpati Airlines officer in Maumere had advised me to be at the airport no less than 2.5 hours before departure, as manual check-in was going to be slow, especially with the no less than 100 passengers he expected. Based on my earlier experience with Merpati, 100 sounded optimistic, and my concern was more flight cancellations rather than overcrowding, In the event, there were just enough people to justify a flight, and check in – 1 hour ahead of departure time, to be sure – took less than 2 minutes, at a clearly oversized airport, at the end of a specially built and very wide approach boulevard, and all of that for the two flights a day that Maumere sees.

house in Larantuka

house in Larantuka

ferry arriving in Larantuka

ferry arriving in Larantuka

road into Maumere

road into Maumere