Almati, Kazakhstan

At last, after years of planning and following one failed, or aborted, attempt, I finally arrived in Almaty and hit the Silk Road. Woohoo.

It feels very different to Astana and has that delightful air of chaos I know from being in Asia in the past. It invites you to totally let go of old entrenched habits and to embrace the new. It also invites you to change your attitudes about things that work differently to what you’re used to. If they work at all, that is. Woe betide your peace of mind, if you don’t. Definitely worth your while to have a platinum subscription with the Asian Attitude Adjustment Agency. My training kicked in almost immediately, thanks be to Zeus and his buddies. It helps, i think, that I have a huge appetite for experiences and my brain seems to interpret newness and change as exciting.

I left Astana on Monday morning at 10pm to get the sleeper train to Almaty. I mentioned in my last blog that I left things a bit late as I like to plan my journey at the spur of the moment and only plan the major things such as visas, flights etc. As I wasn’t sure how long I would be in Astana, I subsequently wasn’t sure when I’d leave. Smart, innit? So, I had to get the last seat left leaving Astana. I was lucky to get it as otherwise I’d be royally buggered.

To say that my above-mentioned attitude adjustment was severely tested is an understatement, to say the least. But it didn’t pop or burst or implode or explode or whatever attitude tested beyond the edge of destruction does. It survived, manfully and soulfully.

The journey was quite challenging. I usually travel 2nd class, called Kupé in ex-Soviet railway system. I’ve rabbited on about these earlier in another blog. I prefer a lower bunk but an upper one will do at a pinch. Despite my advanced years, I can still hop up to an upper bunk in a spritely fashion, just like a little gazelle. Well, maybe not like a gazelle, no, not like a gazelle at all, maybe more like a rotorious hippomopotamus as James Joyce might say. But make it up I do without any damage to bones, joints, ligaments or, most importantly, dignity.

This time I was stuck with a third class compartment. They have pairs of three high bunks in sets all along the compartment perpendicular to the direction of the train and another single line of three high bunks in line with the train. There is no privacy and the bedspace is limited. Kazakhstan Railways have abolished the top tier, it’s now used for luggage. I had a middle bunk. That would be ok except for the fact that the height was 45cm. Just enough room to wriggle in and out and move around but no space at all to sit up. Most sensible folk book weeks or even months in advance and choose where they want to sleep. You have to choose a carriage and bunk when booking and this is printed out on your ticket. Top bunks are cheaper than lower bunks.

So, these I was, perched on a narrow bucking shelf for 24 hrs with nowhere to sit. I couldn’t even read my book. I slept for over half the time catching up on sleep lost to jetlag. I found a storage box in a section outside the main compartment and in the area between carriages. I spent several hours there reading my book and was grand. I worked hard at maintaining equanimity so didn’t get stressed or annoyed.

And then the train arrived at Almaty and it was all over. I was grand. I’ll do my best to make sure I don’t repeat the experience again, through. Third class is ok but only on a bottom berth.Read more