Silk Road Trip

August - November 2018
My journey along the ancient Silk Road in 2018 from Europe through Central Asia, The Middle East, Turkey and back home to Dublin. Read more
  • 83footprints
  • 81days
  • 438photos
  • 3likes
  • Turkey
  • Georgia
  • Armenia
  • Iran
  • Turkmenistan
  • Uzbekistan
  • Kyrgyzstan
  • Show all (10)
Categories
None
  • 20.3kkilometers traveled
  • Flight7,986kilometers
  • Walking-kilometers
  • Hiking-kilometers
  • Bicycle-kilometers
  • Motorbike-kilometers
  • Tuk Tuk-kilometers
  • Car-kilometers
  • Train-kilometers
  • Bus-kilometers
  • Camper-kilometers
  • Caravan-kilometers
  • 4x4-kilometers
  • Swimming-kilometers
  • Paddling/Rowing-kilometers
  • Motorboat-kilometers
  • Sailing-kilometers
  • Houseboat-kilometers
  • Ferry-kilometers
  • Cruise ship-kilometers
  • Horse-kilometers
  • Hitchhiking-kilometers
  • Cable car-kilometers
  • Helicopter-kilometers
  • Barefoot-kilometers
  • Heels-kilometers
  • 83footprints
  • 81days
  • 438photos
  • 3likes
  • 20.3kkilometers
  • 7.9kkilometers
  • Day 1

    Helsinki

    August 22, 2018 in Finland ⋅ ☀️ 19 °C

    Day 1 of Silk Road Trip

    The flight itself was pretty enjoyable. I don’t often use the word ‘flight’ and ‘enjoyable’ in the same sentence. This was because the plane was only about a third full. This meant that it was two thirds empty so I had a whole row to myself. It helped too that the the airline was Finnair so, lots of Scandinavian cool. This extended to the temperature too so no mosquitoes around! The journey was only 2hrs 25mins so I read and snoozed until we touched down in Helsinki.

    When I first saw the lights of Helsinki as we were landing, I felt the old familiar fierce excitement I get when arriving in a new place. Woohoo, I’m travelling again.L

    Being Scandanavian, the airport was pretty nice looking with lots of blond wood and sharp design. As I was walking towards passport control, it was now 11:30pm local time, I noticed that all the workers walking around in hiviz jackets were dark-skinned and that the people manning the desks wore suits and were blond. Modern Europe. Not that different in Ireland, I suppose.

    My passport wouldn’t work in the automatic scanning machine so I walked along the line of border police kiosks and went to the one with the cutest cop. “My passport doesn’t work” I said to the this blond Nordic god of a policemen. He scanned it in his machine. “your chip doesn’t work” he said. “Must be my magnetic personality” I said to him but not the glimmer of a smile. Ah well, I thought to myself. Zest la vye….

    I mentioned in an earlier blog that I had booked a sleeping pod in the airport because I didn’t fancy travelling late at night trying to find me hotel. Anyway, the prices were eye-watering. I walked around the silent airport trying to find the sleeping pod area but it was cunningly disguised. I get a kick out of seeing things from a different perspective and enjoyed the sight of the dim sleeping airport knowing how loud and manic they can appear when busy. It reminded me of visiting the primary school where my father taught when the school was empty. A silent school almost seems like an affront to nature. The absence of hundreds of children’s voices shouting with exuberance at the sheer joy of being alive and in the moment seemed to shock the air into frozen stillness. I could imagine the dust motes and chalk dust transfixed in the heavy silence.

    I finally found a security guy, a cute you; beginning to notice a theme here? I asked him where the sleeping area was and he told me I’d have to check in to the Schengen Zone part of the terminal where it was located. How strange, I thought, I hope I can get back out again. I went back through security again and took my belt off etc etc. The metal detector didn’t ping this time. Good. I finally found the area and checked in and got ready for a good night’s sleep. But that was not to be.

    The whole sleeping pod thing was an exercise in oddness and strangeness. It was almost as if a committee of well off folk, the sort who can can easily afford hotels and would never dream of sleeping in an airport, designed the whole thing. Nothing really worked properly or intuitively. Maybe they were Calvinists who believed, either explicitly or implicitly, that being poor was god’s judgement on your lack of moral fibre and that the poor, either deserving or undeserving, should suffer a thin gruel portion of charity. Or maybe they were incompetent or just cutting corners to get the best profit out of their endeavour. Whatever the reason, the pods weren’t very smart. Very different to what was advertised on booking.com. Very noisy too, as there was no partition separating them from the main concourse which came alive with piercingly loud announcements at 5am and Chinese people trying communicate directly with their kith and kin in China without the use of any technology, just good old fashioned voicepower alone.

    Anyway, I was tired both physically and emotionally and was looking forward to a bit of bopeep, anywhere. I’d have gladly slept on a bed of nails. But sleep abandoned me and was immune to my entreaties. We were two hours later here so although my watch said 1pm, my usual bedtime in Dublin, my body clock said 11pm, middle of the afternoon, mate. I lay there awake and tired until 3pm-ish when I finally nodded off to an abrupt awakening at 5am by the above mentioned announcements. I soon nodded off again through and slept deeply until 8:30am. I got up, had some breakfast of delicious orange juice and endlessly refillable coffee. Very Scandinavian that. I went back to bed again at 10am and slept until noon. Blah, blah, blah.

    I spent the afternoon in Helsinki rambling around and getting the feel of the place, as much as I could in a few hours. I liked the vibe of the place and the look of the people. Especially the blond ones. There were a lot of blond ones. I noticed, and looked again to make sure. Maybe an ancient ancestor of mine was pillaged and ravaged by the vikings way back in the day and I carry a viking gene but I sure like Scandinavians. Have I mentioned that before?

    Lots more to say but I’m soon about to board my plane for Astana so will try to get this off ASAP. No piccies this time, I’m afraid, as I’m working on a tablet with low bandwidth.

    More in a few days when I hit Kazakhstan. Hopefully not in a plane through.
    Read more

  • Day 3

    Astana, Kazakhstan

    August 24, 2018 in Kazakhstan ⋅ ⛅ 21 °C

    Main process today has been travelling from Helsinki to Astana, arriving and travelling around Astana.

    The flight was uneventful. The plane, a Finnair one, was half empty. Whew, I was worried it might be half full. It left right on time at 9.25pm Helsinki time. As soon as we boarded, I set my watch to Astana time, 3 hrs ahead, to 12.25am the next day. I do this to acclimate myself to the new timezone. The journey took 3 and a half hours and try as I might, I couldn’t fall asleep. I nodded off for about 20 mins but something woke up. I couldn’t get back again.

    We arrived at Astana at 4:45am and I was expecting a long wait at passport control and emigration but not a bit of it. I was through in a jiffy. The only fly in the ointment really was that they stamped the last page in my passport and not the next blank page. A first world problem! The airport itself was amazing; all marble and glitz but I was too tired to really appreciate it properly. I pushed my way past taxi touts in the airport and went outside to find an official taxi. The guy, he told me he was 23, was Uzbek and had driven a taxi for a few years so knew the city well. He didn’t really speak English but when I told him he was Irlandski he delightedly mimicked Conor McGregor. He’s our national symbol? WTF. How about our poets, musicians etc. But, hey, that’s the way it is. Barbarians rock, apparently.

    I got to the hostel at around 5:30 am, I think, checked in and went straight to bed. I slept like a log until around noon today. I had a coffee and went out to find breakfast. The only place I could find was a McDonald’s, ugh. But, I was hungry and needed some protein so McDonald’s it was. Some tasteless chicken sandwich thing. Cheap but filling.

    I went for a ramble along the main areas of Astana to get a sense of the place and also to take my foot out for a spin. I went almost 6 km without pain; a bit but manageable. I definitely think it’s on the mend again but I need to be mindful lest I damage it again.

    It’s a strange place, Astana. Not very people friendly. I couldn’t find any shops anywhere but there was a downtown area with all the usual international dollar magnets. I spotted a Costa and went in for my caffeine fix and a piece of apple pie. It was OK.

    This afternoon, the weather was very warm but chilly and lashing down rain in the early evening. According to Wikipedia, Astana is the second-coldest capital city in the world after Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, a position formerly held by Canada’s capital, Ottawa, until Astana attained capital city status in 1997. Astana has an extreme continental climate with warm summers (featuring occasional brief rain showers) and long, very cold, dry winters. Summer temperatures occasionally reach +35 °C while −30 to −35 °C is not unusual between mid-December and early March. Typically, the city’s river is frozen over between the second week of November and the beginning of April.

    Astana has a well-deserved reputation among Kazakhs for its frequent high winds, the effects of which are felt particularly strongly on the fast-developing but relatively exposed Left Bank area of the city. This evening, the wind was very strong and made a loud howling noise. It was exciting but I was glad I wasn’t out in it.

    I decided tonight to leave Astana earlier that originally intended. I was going to stay until Monday and then head down to Almaty, the previous capital of Kazakhstan. I went onto the Kazakh railway site to book a ticket for tomorrow, Saturday. Gulp, there were no trains left. There was one en route from Moscow to Bishkek but this cost 17,000 roubles, an insane amount I wouldn’t pay unless there was absolutely no other choice. The only ticket remaining was on Monday! Departing at 10am and arriving in Almaty 25hrs later. I booked the last available berth. 64000 Tenge, less that 9€. Whew.



    Saturday 25th November – Astana

    I couldn’t get to sleep until 3am or so this morning. I was tired enough from all the walking but my body clock was still on Dublin time, 5 hrs behind, and thought it was early evening. One I did drop off, I slept soundly until around 9am. Up for a shave and a shower and the other one and then out to McDonald’s again for more pap.

    I noticed a guy beside me with his daughter; she was about 9 or 10. He was ordinary but looked into the his daughters-in-law eyes with an extraordinary look, to my eyes, a look of complete attention and love. She seemed very soothed by this look and there was a serenity about her. All normal stuff and the birthright of every child but so rare in this sad old world of ours that I noticed it. Or maybe it’s something I’m noticing more and more. Or maybe it was something in the McDonald’s air.

    The weather is quite bad today with very heavy rain and a bit chilly. I had to wear my coat and hat going out. What exacerbates the weather is the terrible state of public infrastructure I can see so far. Unbelievably, many roads seems to have no drainage and no camber so huge puddles of water form on the road, most near the edges but many right in the middle of the road. Drivers swerve to avoid the deep ones and woe betide any hapless foot passenger who is near a speeding SUV ploughing through a nearby deep pubble and is unable to duck the approaching tsunami of dirty water. I was nearly caught out when I saw a huge Zil bearing down on me and being driven at an insane speed. I managed to run forward to a dry spot and the day was saved.

    Before I came over, I got briefly hooked on YouTube videos of dashcam footage of car crashes. Most seemed to have occurred in Russia. You know how YouTube registers what you’re watching and then presents an option to view something similar. I have the app on my huge TV at home so they would play back to back. I know schadenfreude is a sin but I couldn’t stop cackling at some of them. I couldn’t help myself, really. It did help me keep a sharp eye on the traffic here through and to take no chances.

    I did a tour of most of Astana main sites today. I spent most of morning and early afternoon lying on my bed reading Kurt Vonnegut Jr’s book Cat’s Cradle. What an astonishing writer. I read him back in the 70s when I lived in Holland but didn’t really understand it. I thought he was ‘anti’ things. I was anti-things back then, anti-anything at all really, especially myself. I used to think that my enemy’s enemy was my friend. Until he became my enemy, as everyone did eventually. Not exactly a good recipe for a happy life. Anyway, KVJ was part of this but I completely misread him.

    The reason I’m reading it is because I broke my Kindle ebook reader. This is the second one I broke in a short time as they’re very fragile. I had about 50 books loaded onto the Kindle so I would have plenty to read on my trip. They were mostly mind-candy books, science fiction mainly. Well written and intelligent but not challenging. My favourites were Iain M Banks, Neal Asher etc. But now they were all gone. What will I do. I’ve had a book stuck under my nose for almost every day of the past six decades. The withdrawal didn’t bear thinking about.

    I read academic books on my Samsung Galaxy Tab 2 tablet and that worked fine. However, I had associated it with work and not idle pleasure. But needs must when the devil drives. I opened up my Android ebook reader and ‘Cats Cradle’ was in the cache. I must have accidently downloaded it to the tablet ages ago. I changed the theme to a dark one and fiddled around with the settings so it was easy to read. And, lo and behold, it was much more like reading a real book than the Kindle ever was. It was heavier but as heavy as a real book might be. Goodbye Kindle, hello tablet. I had all my Kindle books backed up to to my cloud drive so I downloaded again to tablet. Bob’s your uncle.

    My trip today was about 7.5km according to Google Maps Timeline and the longest I walked in a year. My foot was sore at the end and I probably couldn’t have gone further. But I’m pleased that it’s holding out. I had an MRI scan a week or so before I left and the result was that the avulsion fracture had healed but that I had a lot of moderate osteoarthritis in my second, third and fourth metatarsal joints. I take a 400mg Ibuprofen 30 mins before I go walking and the pain is manageable. I haven’t taken a second one yet but will if I have a long days walk. I really want to minimise their usage.



    Sunday 26 November – Astana

    Still here. I’m here because I’m not all there, as the man said.

    Last day in Astana so spent most of the late morning and afternoon walking around the main architectural sites taking photos on my new camera and bringing out my 10-18mm wide-angle lens for its first spin. Photos of wide areas and buildings look great with this lens but I’m still learning about composition. Many of the buildings are impressive but strangely impersonal. I spend around an hour just rambling around the administrative centre where the presidential palace is until a policeman with one of those soviet era peaked hats, said foto, nyet. So, this not being the democratic West, I stopped.

    I read somewhere recently that someone said that photography is the art of learning so see so that eventually you don’t need a camera. I totally get that and walking about and imagining what. A scene would look like through a camera lens gives me a far greater feel and experience of a place. Once the shutter clicks I lose interest in the photo and only occasionally look at them again. Mind you, I haven’t learnt Photoshop yet. Once I do, my inner geek will have a field day.

    I then went back to the hostel and had a short power nap as I’m not a spring chicken any more. Afterwards, one of the advantages of hostelling, I got into conversation with a Dutch man, a Serbian woman and a gay Iranian couple. We spoke of our experiences of travelling and exchanged information and advice.

    Afterwards, myself and the Dutchman walked about 30mins to a restaurant the Serbian woman recommended for some authentic Kazakhstani food. It was dark now and the city looked very different with lots of couples and some people, but not many, having the craicski.

    I had what the menu said was a signature Kazakh dish. But it had horsemeat. I’ve never eaten horsemeat before and, to be honest, it wasn’t on my list of 100,000 things to do. But, when in Rome etc etc. So I ordered it. I wasn’t hugely impressed as it had a strong gamey flavour. I probably won’t order it again. Chalk it down to experience.

    I forgot to mention in my last blog but I had reindeer meat in Helsinki just because I never had it before. It was only a starter and quite small thankfully as I couldn’t get Rudolph out of my mind.

    That’s it, possums. Off to Almaty tomorrow. Please feel free to comment and say hi.
    Read more

  • Day 4

    Astana

    August 25, 2018 in Kazakhstan ⋅ ⛅ 14 °C

    I couldn’t get to sleep until 3am or so this morning. I was tired enough from all the walking but my body clock was still on Dublin time, 5 hrs behind, and thought it was early evening. One I did drop off, I slept soundly until around 9am. Up for a shave and a shower and the other one and then out to McDonald’s again for more pap.

    I noticed a guy beside me with his daughter; she was about 9 or 10. He was ordinary but looked into the his daughters-in-law eyes with an extraordinary look, to my eyes, a look of complete attention and love. She seemed very soothed by this look and there was a serenity about her. All normal stuff and the birthright of every child but so rare in this sad old world of ours that I noticed it. Or maybe it’s something I’m noticing more and more. Or maybe it was something in the McDonald’s air.

    The weather is quite bad today with very heavy rain and a bit chilly. I had to wear my coat and hat going out. What exacerbates the weather is the terrible state of public infrastructure I can see so far. Unbelievably, many roads seems to have no drainage and no camber so huge puddles of water form on the road, most near the edges but many right in the middle of the road. Drivers swerve to avoid the deep ones and woe betide any hapless foot passenger who is near a speeding SUV ploughing through a nearby deep pubble and is unable to duck the approaching tsunami of dirty water. I was nearly caught out when I saw a huge Zil bearing down on me and being driven at an insane speed. I managed to run forward to a dry spot and the day was saved.

    Before I came over, I got briefly hooked on YouTube videos of dashcam footage of car crashes. Most seemed to have occurred in Russia. You know how YouTube registers what you’re watching and then presents an option to view something similar. I have the app on my huge TV at home so they would play back to back. I know schadenfreude is a sin but I couldn’t stop cackling at some of them. I couldn’t help myself, really. It did help me keep a sharp eye on the traffic here through and to take no chances.

    I did a tour of most of Astana main sites today. I spent most of morning and early afternoon lying on my bed reading Kurt Vonnegut Jr’s book Cat’s Cradle. What an astonishing writer. I read him back in the 70s when I lived in Holland but didn’t really understand it. I thought he was ‘anti’ things. I was anti-things back then, anti-anything at all really, especially myself. I used to think that my enemy’s enemy was my friend. Until he became my enemy, as everyone did eventually. Not exactly a good recipe for a happy life. Anyway, KVJ was part of this but I completely misread him.

    The reason I’m reading it is because I broke my Kindle ebook reader. This is the second one I broke in a short time as they’re very fragile. I had about 50 books loaded onto the Kindle so I would have plenty to read on my trip. They were mostly mind-candy books, science fiction mainly. Well written and intelligent but not challenging. My favourites were Iain M Banks, Neal Asher etc. But now they were all gone. What will I do. I’ve had a book stuck under my nose for almost every day of the past six decades. The withdrawal didn’t bear thinking about.

    I read academic books on my Samsung Galaxy Tab 2 tablet and that worked fine. However, I had associated it with work and not idle pleasure. But needs must when the devil drives. I opened up my Android ebook reader and ‘Cats Cradle’ was in the cache. I must have accidently downloaded it to the tablet ages ago. I changed the theme to a dark one and fiddled around with the settings so it was easy to read. And, lo and behold, it was much more like reading a real book than the Kindle ever was. It was heavier but as heavy as a real book might be. Goodbye Kindle, hello tablet. I had all my Kindle books backed up to to my cloud drive so I downloaded again to tablet. Bob’s your uncle.

    My trip today was about 7.5km according to Google Maps Timeline and the longest I walked in a year. My foot was sore at the end and I probably couldn’t have gone further. But I’m pleased that it’s holding out. I had an MRI scan a week or so before I left and the result was that the avulsion fracture had healed but that I had a lot of moderate osteoarthritis in my second, third and fourth metatarsal joints. I take a 400mg Ibuprofen 30 mins before I go walking and the pain is manageable. I haven’t taken a second one yet but will if I have a long days walk. I really want to minimise their usage.
    Read more

  • Day 5

    Astana

    August 26, 2018 in Kazakhstan ⋅ ⛅ 14 °C

    Still here. I’m here because I’m not all there, as the man said.

    Last day in Astana so spent most of the late morning and afternoon walking around the main architectural sites taking photos on my new camera and bringing out my 10-18mm wide-angle lens for its first spin. Photos of wide areas and buildings look great with this lens but I’m still learning about composition. Many of the buildings are impressive but strangely impersonal. I spend around an hour just rambling around the administrative centre where the presidential palace is until a policeman with one of those soviet era peaked hats, said foto, nyet. So, this not being the democratic West, I stopped.

    I read somewhere recently that someone said that photography is the art of learning so see so that eventually you don’t need a camera. I totally get that and walking about and imagining what. A scene would look like through a camera lens gives me a far greater feel and experience of a place. Once the shutter clicks I lose interest in the photo and only occasionally look at them again. Mind you, I haven’t learnt Photoshop yet. Once I do, my inner geek will have a field day.

    I then went back to the hostel and had a short power nap as I’m not a spring chicken any more. Afterwards, one of the advantages of hostelling, I got into conversation with a Dutch man, a Serbian woman and a gay Iranian couple. We spoke of our experiences of travelling and exchanged information and advice.

    Afterwards, myself and the Dutchman walked about 30mins to a restaurant the Serbian woman recommended for some authentic Kazakhstani food. It was dark now and the city looked very different with lots of couples and some people, but not many, having the craicski.

    I had what the menu said was a signature Kazakh dish. But it had horsemeat. I’ve never eaten horsemeat before and, to be honest, it wasn’t on my list of 100,000 things to do. But, when in Rome etc etc. So I ordered it. I wasn’t hugely impressed as it had a strong gamey flavour. I probably won’t order it again. Chalk it down to experience.

    I forgot to mention in my last blog but I had reindeer meat in Helsinki just because I never had it before. It was only a starter and quite small thankfully as I couldn’t get Rudolph out of my mind.

    That’s it, possums. Off to Almaty tomorrow. Please feel free to comment and say hi.
    Read more

  • Day 7

    Almati, Kazakhstan

    August 28, 2018 in Kazakhstan ⋅ ⛅ 24 °C

    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

  • Day 8

    Almaty

    August 29, 2018 in Kazakhstan ⋅ ⛅ 24 °C

    I didn’t do much on my first day because I was so tired. The train arrived at 10:15 a.m. and as its an internal service there is no security or immigration check. I was in the main hall a few minutes after the train arrived. First thing I did was find little cafe and have a cup of coffee and some breakfast. I hadn’t eaten at all the previous day. This was because of bad planning but also because I like to have a mini-fast once a week or so. Then there’s the whole logistics of eliminating waste products. You don’t wanna even go there on Kazakh trains.

    I checked into my hotel almost immediately. They were very helpful and allowed me in before official check-in time. I had a shower, changed my socks and underwear and unpacked. This is very easy due to my using packing cubes, as mentioned earlier.

    Talking briefly about underwear, I think I might be adopting some Mormon tendencies. I’m looking for magic garments. As I travel light, I have a wear one and a spare one policy with most clothes so need clothes that will stand the rigour of travel, be good at the underwear stuff, be olfactory neutralising and, importantly, wash and dry in a few hours. Ordinary Marks and Sparks or Dunnes Stores boxers will not do this so I got a 2 pairs from USA. They cost a few bob but worth it. They work a treat. I can get a weeks sweaty wear out of a pair and they’re still fresh as a daily. A pretty traumatised daisy, mind you, but a daisy of a sort nevertheless.

    Then I started looking for a magic shirt that would have similar qualities to the above but would also make me look about 7kg lighter. I found one in a shop in Dublin at an almost give-away price as the summer season was coming to an end. It has SPF50 protection, two big front pockets, foldable neck shield, long sleeves, anti mosquito bite and a whole load of other qualities. It’s made by Columbia. I’ve been wearing it since Wednesday last, 10 days now, and even slept sweatily in it twice. It’s still fresh as the proverbial daisy. It’s dark blue so doesn’t show the dirt. A result!

    However, I’m going to wash it tonight as I’ve started noticing, just out of the corner of my eye, that it’s beginning to develop independent motion. I don’t want it to become sentient. Then I’d be in a pickle.

    And then there’s the socks. I got a single pair of Arctic merino socks for when it gets seriously cold. I wore them in Siberia last year when it was sub-zero. They were great. But they’re not magic, just fabulous. The magic ones are liners I got for the thermal ones and they dry quickly, don’t smell, etc etc. I also wear them as main socks when the weather is average. They’re great with sandals when it’s hot. I know, I know, you’re not supposed to wear socks with sandals but I’m so old now the fashion police ignore me. They don’t even register me. Blessed invisibility. They are grey, though.

    I have no magic trousers. I never quite got to the bottom of that. Mind you, I saw many a pair of trousers I’d like to magic off other people. But that’s another story and not for a family audience, like here.

    But, back to the hotel. It was a very soviet era establishment where shabby chic definitely wasn’t an interior design choice. It was evolutionary, probably from a revolutionary time. Sorry, couldn’t resist that. I had what was called a suite but was really a huge room with an enormous bed and air conditioning. The electrical sockets were hanging off the walls and all had scorch marks on them. There was a smell of burning rubber and bakelite when I switched the kettle on. And so on and on. I found myself starting to grumble internally and stopped this in time. Chill, babe, I said to myself, just go with the flow. It’s all adventure, experience. And, you know, it worked. I laughed at myself for being a bit of a silly goose and started to enjoy the differences and idiosyncrasies of the place. It was cheap too, at 11€ a night, with breakfast. I eventually got a smile from the formidable looking woman provodnitsa at the front desk. She was Russian!

    After my shower, I went out exploring but first went to get a Kazakhstan SIM card for my phone. They’re incredibly cheap here. The woman at the hotel pointed me to a tech market nearly and as I was waiting in the queue, it’s an ex-soviet country so queues are inevitable, I had a delightful giggling interaction from a lovely old babushka next to me. Her standard of English was similar to my Russian but we stíll communicated. She had the most stunning set of full top and bottom gold teeth, they looked amazing. I got SIM and 2GB internet for less than 2€. It’s 4G and fast, quicker than Dublin.

    The Kazakh people are extremely friendly, in my experience and according to my research. There are two main types of people here, to my untrained eye, European Russians and Turkic people who are the original indigenous inhabitants of this part of the world. There are also Chinese and some other peoples I don’t recognise.

    The traffic here is fierce. They travel at a great rate of knots and there are many crashes. I saw several during my time here but nobody seemed to be hurt. I was on a bus on my first day and the driver was driving crazily while texting and beeping his horn. Brrr.

    The roads are in great condition, at least in the inner city but the suburbs are not so bad as well. There are traffic light controlled pedestrian crossings at every junction and the rules are respected. Although the traffic looked fearsome, I felt safe crossing the roads. It’s a bit hairier when there’s no pedestrian crossing. Instead, they paint crossing lines on the street but the cars don’t stop until you step in front of them. I was very nervous about found this at first as it looked almost suicidal but I soon got used to it. Now I just walk in front of cars and they stop. Drivers are pretty irritable and rev their engines and play chicken but stop eventually. They also shoot past as soon as you’ve passed frequently missing you by centimetres. Once I thought it was not personal, I thought it funny. It’s still a bit nerve-wracking, all the same, especially when I wonder is that eejit speeding right at me on his mobile phone now. But I survive!

    There is some mammoth building work going on in the city centre at the moment with thousands of workers making the place pedestrian friendly and green. They’re doing a great job.
    Read more

  • Day 9

    Central State Museum of Kazakhstan

    August 30, 2018 in Kazakhstan ⋅ ⛅ 14 °C

    Viewed Central State Museum of the Republic of Kazakhstan. A bit meh really. Exhibits a bit tired but interesting to see communist interpretation of historical events; in terms of class struggle.

  • Day 9

    Almaty

    August 30, 2018 in Kazakhstan ⋅ ☁️ 20 °C

    I didn’t do a lot of touristy stuff, mainly everyday local interactions and observations and walking about to get the feel of the city and its beating heart. As its my first week in Asia I thought I’d pace myself. I didn’t see any cathedrals or palaces but took a, out of buses around the city and noticed how things work and how people interact; about the differences and similarities between Kazakhstan and Ireland or should I say, between Almaty and Dublin.

    That’s about it. There’s, loads more I could write as I’ve seen a lot of things and made, it’s of connections but just haven’t the time to write it all up. Also, I’m trying, with middling success, to focus on process and not just content.

    Sorry I have no pics and there’s just this huge expanse of text. Although the Internet is on my phone I can’t use it as a hotspot to connect my tablet. I write the blog on the tablet and the hotel WiFi is glacially slow so I can it download any images.

    Off tomorrow morning to Bishkek, in the mysterious mountain world of Kyrgyzstan and to the World Nomad Games in Cholpon Ata on the shores of Lake Issyk-Kul. This is the real ancient Central Asia.
    Read more