After 3 hours of sleep it was time to leave Iran for Turkmenistan. We belted it as fast as possible to Bajgiran passing through some beautiful mountains. All of a sudden we came upon rows of trees that looked completely out of place. Passing them and women washing their clothes in a stream we arrived at the border town of Bajgiran. Colourfully dressed Turkmen women were doing their shopping here, interspersed with soldiers armed with Kalashnikovs keeping a look-out. At one point we almost crashed the car as we were taken aback by the sight of a soldier armed with a bazooka!
On the Iranian side there was the obligatory paperwork that needed to be processed. In the customs processing office. I had a 15 minute conversation with a former volleyball player, in which we both tried to outdo each other in bestowing compliments upon each other. While it drags things out, it is also incredibly useful.
“Mr Alex. They have made several mistakes on writing the chassis number of your car in Nordooz. But you are an internationally sophisticated man with whom it is a pleasure to converse. We will accept that this is a mistake by the other border post and will make sure this does not result in any repercussions and that you are still able to leave Iran. But of course we want you to come back and experience our hospitality!”
Once I left Iran it was time to enter the Howdan border crossing on the Turkmen side. A few years ago this crossing had 150 lorries daily transiting. However, due to a weight restriction on the roads, no lorries over 20 tons can pass. Therefore this border crossing sees about 20 vehicles a day crossing it, which means it has a sleepy air to it. Upon entering the migration hall there were a couple of teams from the other rally. Lunch was from 1200 to 1300 and so everyone had to wait. Unfortunately one of the teams had arrived just before 1200, so they had to wait for over an hour for someone to issue them a visa. To make it worse, there was a slight issue with the computers to issue the visa. At 1300 when the lunch hour was over, they were given the worse news that they would have to wait at least another hour. The external technical support office took their lunch between 1300 and 1400! The border guards were most apologetic and asked me to translate for them.
When the visa was stamped it was off to fill in all the forms for the car. First up was a road map, which showed which route I was allowed to take. Deviation from this route would result in a fine of $1,000. I then had a fuel tax to pay; as fuel is heavily subsidised in Turkmenistan, foreigners have to pay a compensatory tax for the fuel they use. There was then a visit to the veterinary office and to the quarantine office. However, both the officials were playing dominos in the same office, slamming down tiles with large amounts of aggression! After this it was time to go through customs, pay the requisite fees and have the car searched. Drones are illegal in Turkmenistan; however rather than confiscate our drone, they put a customs seal on it so that it could transit the country without being used. Behind me there were 3 other Mongol Rally teams. Once again I was asked to translate. I suggested that they bring me a piece of paper and a pen. Within two minutes I was sitting behind the desk of the Turkmen customs office writing out questions in English for future tourists! I asked if they could take a picture of me doing this, but as it’s a border they were unable to oblige.
The border official writing out the road map.
The map showing the allowed route.
Leaving Howdan I came across the most stunning mountain scenery I had seen in ages. I drove at about 10km per hour stopping to take plenty of pictures of the surroundings, including a snake that had decided to take a languorous rest in the middle of the road! Passing by a soldier at one point I stopped to share a cigarette with him – he asked me if I had any water and I gave him a couple of bottles. At the entrance to Ashgabat was an army checkpoint. They asked me politely if I had taken any pictures, as the whole 35km to Ashgabat is a militarised border zone. I confirmed I had and was asked to show him the pictures I had taken. I obliged and he realised I was a tourist with a passion for beautiful mountains rather than a spy – I was wished a good day and a safe trip.
A snake relaxing in the middle of the road
Some of the amazing scenery
Ashgabat is like no other city. Wide four lane boulevards, imposing white marble buildings everywhere, a sense of cleanliness and order and a general pervasive quiet. Driving through the centre of town there was none of the mad intensity of Iranian traffic. Motorbikes, tinted windows, loud music, permanent import of right hand drive cars and xenon headlights are not allowed. Cars have to be kept clean at all times so I asked a police officer which way to the hotel and to the nearest car wash. There are also a lot of police officers everywhere - one on almost every street corner.
The Beast getting a bath
Turkmen are also very friendly. The car was very unusual – being right hand drive, covered in stickers and having tinted windows. This meant it drew a lot of attention from the locals who would drive alongside grinning inanely, waving at me and hooting their horns. While waiting at a petrol station a lady in the car next to me rolled down her window and started addressing me in flawless English. It turned out she lived in Edmonton and was visiting her parents. Her mother promptly leaned over and invited me for dinner and to stay with them while I was in Turkmenistan! I politely declined, explaining that I'd already booked a hotel. When I asked them where the local market was they insisted that I follow them there, rather than giving me directions.
While having a quick dinner at a cafe near the hotel, I met a local chap called Misha. We had a quick chat about Ashgabat and Turkmenistan. Afterwards I went to sleep, full of Turkmen food, images of Ashgabat and the stunning Kopet Dag / Turkmen-Khorasan mountains.