Incredible Turkmenistan!

We cross Turkmenistan in five days, because of the impossibility to obtain a longer visa. On the program, a lot of kilometers, but also the discovery of one of the world's most severe dictatorship.

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At the Uzbek border checkpoint, we settle down in a small café and get along  with a man who invites us to his table. Lucky break: Islombek is a captain and works at the border, which will greatly ease exit procedures on the next day. He pours us beer all night long but since he is on duty, he serves himself in a soup bowl. Around midnight, he heads back to work and we sleep behind the first military checkpoint. On the next morning, we exit Uzbekistan without a hitch. 

Curious crowd before the border

Turkmen customs are in a brand new building. We first pass a medical inspection and, after waiting for half an hour, comes the time to pay a 12 USD immigration tax. The accounting officer is a small fat scoundrel who starts shouting at us because we don't understand his instructions in Russian. The scene happens under the amused yet compassionate gaze of Turkish and Iranian truck drivers, who are queued up with us. At last, we get a receipt of 10 USD and can return to the main counter. The immigration officer wants to know our route as well as the hotels where we plan to sleep. We stay evasive until he gives up.

The luggage inspection is still pending. The officer goes through my smartphone content, deletes some files (pictures of Turkmen banknotes). He spots a world map: "you work interpol?". He finds movies and hastens to ask "porno, porno?" with shining eyes. When he sees my pump, he asks me if it is a dildo in a raucous laughter. Well, we are facing a true egg-head. Despite our manoeuvre to dawdle as much as possible, every bag is thoroughly checked.

At 11am, we show our stamped passport for the last time and can leave the customs.

Desert crossing

Grocers who invited us for a tea

On the first evening, we stop for dinner in a restaurant in the middle of the desert. We gladly accept the owner's offer to sleep in her dining room. She runs the place with her three daughters. Our Turkmen-English conversation guide allows each one of us to learn some words in the language of the other party, making a nice evening (unfortunately without pictures).


As we are bringing our bicycles to the garage for the night, we are attacked by a dreadful dog, that fortunately was chained, enabling us to escape narrowly. This watchdog is famous for biting two bike travellers (one of them even had to be hospitalized).

Desert crossing

Two coexisting worlds

The following day, we sign a new record (which will probably hold until Geneva) with 220km covered in one day. This long stage enables us to stay one whole day in Mary, a provincial capital with 120'000 inhabitants.

Mary by day

Mary by night (shashlik grill)

We arrive in Mary at dusk. As we are riding along the airport, we notice through our side mirrors that we are followed by a cop in an unmarked car. 5 min later, fearing to get detected, he turns his headlights off. We find it extremely funny, since nothing is less discrete than a car without lights running just behind us at 20 km/h. After a while, he tries an other technique: he overtakes us, parks his car 500m further and waits until we pass him before repeating the procedure. 20 minutes later, he gets bored and we don't see him anymore.

We settle down in the Sanjar Hotel, an old soviet-style hotel.

Never let a bike traveller settle down in your hotel

Bathroom with questionable hygiene

Wandering in a Turkmen city is a unique, striking experience. A gigantic portrait of Gurbanguly Berdimuhamedow is hanged at the entrance of every public building. This man succeded Saparmurat Niyazov, self-proclaimed "Türkmenbaşy" (the father of all Turkmen), who passed away in 2006 and was considered as one of the world's most authoritarian dictators.

One of many public buildings

When it comes to wedding, Turkmens go all out

Hajji Gurbanguly mosque

Niyazov wrote the "Ruhnama" (The Book of Souls), mixing personal experiences and moral precepts to a backdrop of Turkmen culture. The author considered his work to be as important as the Quran.

Statue

We start looking for this book, very interested in having a look on it. I enter in a paper shop with numerous portraits of the president. A shop assistant comes to me, smiling. As I pronounce the word "Ruhnama", her face freezes. "Нет!", end of discussion. Obviously, people don't like to talk about it. It should be better to ask a policeman (should be easy, they are absolutely everywhere).

Eventually, a policeman gives us directions to a place where we could find it. It turns out to be a state bookshop, a slightly awkward place. One can only find goods to the glory of the president and his country: books, posters, calendars, key holders, etc. The Ruhnama is also available in every language.

The shopkeeper is very friendly. I ask him the permission to take a picture of his store. "нет!". In fact, I couldn't get a single photograph permission in the whole city (not to mention pictures of public buildings, that are strictly forbidden).

After two nights in Mary, we hit the road heading South. Leaving the national road, we take a small road in a pretty bad shape that goes directly to the Iranian border.

Members of a Turkmen rock band, pouring us vodka in full sunlight

Last kilometers in Turkmenistan

When exiting the country, we are again subject to a gear inspection. As the customs officer comes across my English copy of the Ruhnama, his attitude changes radically. The thorough inspection stops abruptly. He starts flipping through the book and asks me to read aloud some parts in English before repeating them in Turkmen. Then he gestures to us that we can go.

Note that we're not all equal against the desert

After 5 days, it is already time to leave this slightly crazy country. Too bad that we can't stay longer... in any case, this crossing remains a unique experience that leaves no one indifferent.

Next stage: ride through North-Eastern Iran and arrive in Tehran.