This award has been inspired by the numerous extra-ordinary toilet experiences I have had the privilege of encountering over the last 4 months. Prior to backpacking around the world, I would never have considered that such a topic would be worthy of a blog post. Alas, my ignorant Western toilet experiences where I'd commonly spend a lot longer than necessary on the loo with my latest copy of Better Homes & Gardens or some fashion magazine propped on my lap did not prepare me well for what lay ahead.
I am now a changed woman. The new (and sometimes quite horrid) toilet experiences which I have survived to tell tales about have taught me to treat the toilet simply as a functional tool and no longer as a place of comfort or a 'break' from concentrated work.
So without further ado, the award nominees are:
5. In 5th place - Precariously balancing on 2 wooden planks above a drop/pit toilet only 2 metres deep below me out on the Mongolian steppe whilst a swarm of flies attacked my then tender butt (wild horse riding has now changed the condition of my butt too).
4. In 4th place - Sporadically going and then changing my mind and then going again and then changing my mind again ... at a pit toilet stop during a bus journey in Mongolia because 4 toilets were alligned but with only 1 metre high partitions, allowing the 2 men on either side of me to easily peer into my portion of the toilet. Needless to say, it wasn't a very comfortable experience.
3. In 3rd place - Dry retching and feverishly sweating at the stench of a reeking drop toilet whilst constipated and trying to go myself at a particular homestay in Tajikistan.
2. And the runner up is - Sweating it out nervously to do a 'No. 2' as quickly as possible out in the Mongolian desert whilst a baby calf fixatedly peered in on me through the planks of the wooden drop toilet hut.
1. And the winner is - The pathway in the little Tajik village of Langar where I could not even find a drop toilet so I had to just do it on the pathway and then wipe myself with a branch and two leaves with two little Tajik girls narrowly missing the spectacle! It happened to also be 'that time of the month' so it was particularly messy and this experience was particularly scarring in all its vulnerability.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Sheki
En route to the Azeri-Georgian border, we spent 2 nights in Sheki. Sheki is cupped in beautiful wooded mountains with an 18th century palace, picturesque old town (with plenty of melons being sold by the roadside for dirt cheap prices) and a characteristic caravaneserai (travellers' inn which olden day Silk Road traders would stop and stay at). Unfortunately, the caravaneserai was full so we homestayed with a family nearby instead. We enjoyed an evening meal at the garden restaurant at the caravaneserai on the first night with Bjorn and Christian, two German backpackers who also stayed at the same homestay as us.
The great thing about a homestay is that we could catch up with our chores and use the family's big buckets and clothes line to hand wash and dry our clothes. There are plenty of unglamorous aspects to backpacking too!
Kenneth got addicted to the sweet coated nuts that the little confectionery shop along the old town shopping strip produced. We also sampled extraordinarily schweeeeeeeeet baclava from this shop. The charm of this street lies in the fact that the cobbler, the music instrument mender, the butcher, the tailor, the confectioner, the copper tooler, the antique restorer ... all still go about their day like they did during the glory days of the ancient Silk Road.
The great thing about a homestay is that we could catch up with our chores and use the family's big buckets and clothes line to hand wash and dry our clothes. There are plenty of unglamorous aspects to backpacking too!
Kenneth got addicted to the sweet coated nuts that the little confectionery shop along the old town shopping strip produced. We also sampled extraordinarily schweeeeeeeeet baclava from this shop. The charm of this street lies in the fact that the cobbler, the music instrument mender, the butcher, the tailor, the confectioner, the copper tooler, the antique restorer ... all still go about their day like they did during the glory days of the ancient Silk Road.
A Touch of Paris
Our ferry docked at the port of Baku at approximately 2am. The hours on the ferry were long and arduous, not to mention the ride set us back $US90 each despite being a cargo ferry! Nevertheless the trip was made enjoyable with the company of David (from France) and Thomas (from Norway), our new friends and fellow backpackers both on their way home by land and sea after spending a year studying in Shanghai.
By the time we cleared immigration and arrived at the backpackers' joint recommended by Lonely Planet, it was already 3am and the backpackers' was full. 'You come tomorrow ... 10 o'clock... and I have room for you! Now full!' declared the young boisterous Azeri attendant. We ended up 'homelessly' wandering through Baku by night which startled us with its modern chic boutiques and Parisien styled architecture. Baku is in the midst of its second oil boom and the oil barons are pumping cash into upgrading almost every building fascade there is in the city. Baku certainly posseses some of the most exquisite architecture I have ever seen. Having done it tough in Central Asia in terms of material comforts over the past month (despite the very rich cultural experiences we had), we appreciated Baku so much more. In a zombie-like state, we ended up finding a 24 hour restaurant at 4am to have breakfast at and then took it in turns over the next 4 hours to crash into the comfortable couches to catch up with some Zzzzzzzzzs.
The rest of our 2 days in Baku was immensely enjoyable. We soaked in the atmosphere and enjoyed stopping by a particular bakery for delicious pastries and local treats like baclava. We made the most of being able to savour fine dining experiences for under US$10 each! David and Thomas continued to be entertaining and interesting travel partners and we dicovered our shared passion for good food and adventure as we scoured the city for interesting sights and walked along almost every quaintly cobbled street in the Old Town of Baku.
Baku, you'll be fondly remembered and recommended to our family and friends!
Azerbaijan
The initial plan was to simply whiz through the Causasus countries (Azerbaijan, Georgia and perhaps Armenia) so we can fulfill our mission to travel from Beijing to Venice (Marco Polo's route in reverse) entirely by land and sea. However, the Caucasus has proven to be a remarkably astonishing region of the world totally unknown to us up until 1.5 weeks ago.
Here is an excerpt from Lonely Planet on Azerbaijan which aptly summarises our experiences and impressions of the country:
Here is an excerpt from Lonely Planet on Azerbaijan which aptly summarises our experiences and impressions of the country:
Neither Asia nor Europe, Azerbaijan is an incredible tangle of contradictions and contrasts. It's a fascinating nexus of ancient historical empires. Yet, it's also a new nation finding its feet as it emerges from a war-torm post-Soviet chrysalis on a petroleum-funded gust of optimism. Surrounded by semi-desert on the oil-rich Caspian Sea, the nation's cosmopolitan capital, Baku, is a dynamic boomtown where flashy limousines and mushrooming skyscrapers sweep around a Unesco listed ancient core (a palace). Yet barely three hours' away lies an entirely different world - timeless villages clad in lush orchards from which shepherd tracks lead into the soaring Caucasus mountains. Where Baku is multi-lingual and go-ahead, the provinces shuffle to the gently paces click of nard (backgammon) on tree shaded tea-house terraces while women stay home, herds of cattle wander aimlessly along highways and potbellied bureaucrats scratch their heads in confusion on finding that an outsider has wandered into their territory.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Caspian Crossing
Thankfully, we spend the night at the half decent Turkmenbashi Hotel in an airconditioned room albeit with comical 1500 way shower head and gurgling plumbing.
We hear that the ferry will not be leaving tonight because the winds are over 10km/h. when will it be ready t leave? No one knows. so we wait.
The next day, we try to prepare for the crossing by stocking up on water and supplies for the unknown duration. Before we could get into the swing of spending our last remaining Manats at the bustling bazaar, Liana our guide tells us to get to the ferry terminal urgently! We rush to the terminal only to find a burgeoning queue of anxious Azeris waiting at a small window to secure their talon to board the ferry with. We are number 24 and 25 we are told. So we wait.
Our hopes rose and fell in the proceeding 10 hours as we waited at the ferry terminal. A cocky Turkmen official was holding up proceedings saying that the ferry was not licensed to carry passengers, but things were still in the balance, open enough of course for him to receive a payment from the ship's captain. All of a sudden to our jubilation at 10pm we are bundled up and told to get on board.
Squeezing past the cargo hold of train bogies we made it up steep rusting stairs and were showed to our cabins, if you could call them that. This was no Queen Mary. The mattresses were the oldest most decrepid I'd ever seen, the toilet did not work and more water leaked out of the shower hose rather than the head and the lights did not work until the lady banged it hard. Thankfully though we could open the porthole window to allow some fresh sea breeze before the smells from the adjoining sewer became too apparent as it ran past our malfunctioning toilet.
Grateful to be on board, we refused to pay another $USD2 for clean sheets and lay down to rest very carefully in our silk sheets probably amongst frustrated bed bugs gnawing on their chomps to get to our warm flesh and to be lulled to sleep by the ferry slowly chugging out of port. We were on our way to Baku and only 12 hours later we'd be there! so we thought.
In the middle of the night, we were awakened by huge clanging which made Stephanie wake up with a start and start praying. I was too tired so just lay there listening. The gentle roll of the ship noticeably stopped. We were only half an hour out to sea and we had anchored and not moving an inch so we just lay there trying to sleep in the silence.
Only 9 hours later we felt the ferry moving again and 18 hours after that making it a nice round figure of 27hours we cross the Caspian Sea and arrive at the surprisingly European style city of Baku! As I sit here to reflect on the past 2 days, with my vision still continuing to bob gently up and down, I did actually enjoy the many hours spent breathing in fresh diesel laced air on the top deck where we went to escape the smell of raw seage being demped out of the ship's bilge into the Caspian sea. I must say all romantic appeals of the Caspian evaporated very quickly to be replaced with vows never to swim in the Caspian ever!
Nevertheless, we savoured the once in a lifetime crossing, and it was made even more enjoyable shared with a sturdy 23yr old Norwegian and comical 22yr old French backpacker who shared with us their incredibly vast library of travel experiences and wisdom together with their dwindling supplies of dry biscuits and melon. Still, we talked longingly about luxury cruises we would take in the future and of Club Med and touring Fiji on jetskis :) But this is how we crossed the Caspian.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Final Chapter in Central Asia - Turkmenistan
Kenneth and I walked across our final border in Central Asia on 7 August 2009 from Uzbekistan into the most closed country in Central Asia, namely Turkmenistan. Turkmenistan is the only Central Asian country where joining a tour is compulsory unless you opt for the 5 day transit visa at the border which does not come with a guarantee that you will actual get the visa.
Despite being expensive, in hindsight, we are actually glad to have joined a tour as it was a whole lot more relaxing than travelling independently and having to work things out for ourselves - pretty much what we have been doing for all the other Central Asian countries. Whilst haggling can be fun at times, most of the times when you are tired or it is late and dark, it becomes quite a chore.
Firstly, I'll say that Uzbekistan was a wonderful place if you appreciate architecture. The three ancient and glorious cities of Samarkand, Bukhara and Khiva have the most magnificent Islamic Central Asian architecture with azure blue mosaics representing eras of rich history. We enjoyed visiting the chaikhanas (traditional tea houses) sitting cross legged on a raised tea bed with a small table in front of us on which we ate from. We are now quite good at ordering chai (local green tea), shashlyk, plov (delicious rice cooked with meat and vegies in cottonseed oil), laghman (hand pulled noodles which originally came from the Ughyurs), dimlama etc. Uzbekistan also spoils one for choice with its Uzbek style B&Bs set in a traditional home around a courtyard. We experienced quite a few of these as we moved around Uzbekistan. We also got to catch the local high speed train, the Sharq from Tashkent to Bukhara over 7 hours... it was a breeze after the Chinese train experience but their local movies are screened so LOUD on the train that even my ipod on full volume could not drown out the annoying banter. *sigh*
In terms of natural beauty and being able to experience living with real local families, I'd have to say Tajikistan still takes the cake.
We are now with a tour in Turkmenistan and travelling with a 19 year old Swiss girl, Frances whose maturity level is closer to that of a 30 year old, having been through quite a bit in her young life. She is travelling for 5 months and will be starting uni in Switzerland in 3 weeks. We actually happened to meet 3 weeks ago in Osh, Kyrgzstan when a group of backpackers called out to Kenneth and me to join them for dinner. I happened to sit beside Frances and soon we discovered that we'd be on the same tour in Turkmenistan. The Central Asian backpacking world is a small one and we keep bumping into people we met a month to 3 weeks ago and feel like old friends connecting up again in a different country! We arranged to meet Frances 2 days before our scheduled crossing into Turkmenistan at a little provincial town called Nukus in Uzbekistan which is the town just before the border. We successfully met up and the following morning, we caught a taxi to the border. The ride took about 40 minutes. Our guide was 1.5 hours late because her flight to meet us was delayed apparently. Other than that disconcerting start to Turkmenistan (the borders are always bit hairy to hang around at with military around holding big machine guns) we enjoyed the privilege of being guided through this country which we have discovered is very rich in gas! Turkmenistan probably gets the least tourists in all of Central Asia because it is so difficult to obtain a visa and because you have to join a tour which can be expensive. Our tourguide was an Armenian lady, 'Mrs Angela' who was born in Ashgabat. She spoke very good English but I still struggled with some of the Russian expressions and jokes. But she was vivacious, very friendly and gave us some good laughs aside from her run down on the Turkmen culture and historical significance to some sites we visitsed. We visited some sites in an ancient town and then we drive on 'the road to hell' towards the gas craters. I had no idea what a gas crater is until my time in Karakum Desert of Turkmenistan! Basically the gas was being mined and some of the areas where mining took place collapsed our in the middle of the desert (Turkmenistan is 85% desert!) creating a big deep hole in the desert. We visited 3 carters - one burning on fire, one bubbling with mud and one bubbling with gassy water! Pretty incredible! We spent last night camping out in the deserts under surreal moonscapes and made our own shaslyks and bbqed the meat and vegies served with non (the local bread) and their beautifully smoked cheese. Absolutely delicious!
The heat in Turkmenistan during this peak summer period was quite terrible though. It must have been about 45+ deg each day we were in Turkmenistan but I hear it can get up to 50 deg in the capital, Ashgabat some summers! I felt like a human shahlyk myself while out in the desert espcially! The wonderful thing out there was being amongst wild camels!
Ashgabat itself is an ultra modern 'marble city' of about 800,000. The roads and buildings are massive, in-laid with marble and expensive building materials. As Mrs Angela pointed out, the Turkmen leaders are not reknown for their modesty. A stark contrast to the villages and small townchips out in the Karakum Desert which we passed. Life must be unbelievably harsh out there in the desert. Just 2.5 days of desert and I've had enough! However, the evenings are beautiful in the desert, especially at sunset.
With this, we bid Central Asia, its curious cultures, hospitable people and stunning landscpes goodbye and cast our eyes across the Caspian Sea on the next mysterious region to be explored, the region of Caucasus where our new adventures are to begin when we disembark a cargo ferry at the port of Baku, Azerbaijan.
Despite being expensive, in hindsight, we are actually glad to have joined a tour as it was a whole lot more relaxing than travelling independently and having to work things out for ourselves - pretty much what we have been doing for all the other Central Asian countries. Whilst haggling can be fun at times, most of the times when you are tired or it is late and dark, it becomes quite a chore.
Firstly, I'll say that Uzbekistan was a wonderful place if you appreciate architecture. The three ancient and glorious cities of Samarkand, Bukhara and Khiva have the most magnificent Islamic Central Asian architecture with azure blue mosaics representing eras of rich history. We enjoyed visiting the chaikhanas (traditional tea houses) sitting cross legged on a raised tea bed with a small table in front of us on which we ate from. We are now quite good at ordering chai (local green tea), shashlyk, plov (delicious rice cooked with meat and vegies in cottonseed oil), laghman (hand pulled noodles which originally came from the Ughyurs), dimlama etc. Uzbekistan also spoils one for choice with its Uzbek style B&Bs set in a traditional home around a courtyard. We experienced quite a few of these as we moved around Uzbekistan. We also got to catch the local high speed train, the Sharq from Tashkent to Bukhara over 7 hours... it was a breeze after the Chinese train experience but their local movies are screened so LOUD on the train that even my ipod on full volume could not drown out the annoying banter. *sigh*
In terms of natural beauty and being able to experience living with real local families, I'd have to say Tajikistan still takes the cake.
We are now with a tour in Turkmenistan and travelling with a 19 year old Swiss girl, Frances whose maturity level is closer to that of a 30 year old, having been through quite a bit in her young life. She is travelling for 5 months and will be starting uni in Switzerland in 3 weeks. We actually happened to meet 3 weeks ago in Osh, Kyrgzstan when a group of backpackers called out to Kenneth and me to join them for dinner. I happened to sit beside Frances and soon we discovered that we'd be on the same tour in Turkmenistan. The Central Asian backpacking world is a small one and we keep bumping into people we met a month to 3 weeks ago and feel like old friends connecting up again in a different country! We arranged to meet Frances 2 days before our scheduled crossing into Turkmenistan at a little provincial town called Nukus in Uzbekistan which is the town just before the border. We successfully met up and the following morning, we caught a taxi to the border. The ride took about 40 minutes. Our guide was 1.5 hours late because her flight to meet us was delayed apparently. Other than that disconcerting start to Turkmenistan (the borders are always bit hairy to hang around at with military around holding big machine guns) we enjoyed the privilege of being guided through this country which we have discovered is very rich in gas! Turkmenistan probably gets the least tourists in all of Central Asia because it is so difficult to obtain a visa and because you have to join a tour which can be expensive. Our tourguide was an Armenian lady, 'Mrs Angela' who was born in Ashgabat. She spoke very good English but I still struggled with some of the Russian expressions and jokes. But she was vivacious, very friendly and gave us some good laughs aside from her run down on the Turkmen culture and historical significance to some sites we visitsed. We visited some sites in an ancient town and then we drive on 'the road to hell' towards the gas craters. I had no idea what a gas crater is until my time in Karakum Desert of Turkmenistan! Basically the gas was being mined and some of the areas where mining took place collapsed our in the middle of the desert (Turkmenistan is 85% desert!) creating a big deep hole in the desert. We visited 3 carters - one burning on fire, one bubbling with mud and one bubbling with gassy water! Pretty incredible! We spent last night camping out in the deserts under surreal moonscapes and made our own shaslyks and bbqed the meat and vegies served with non (the local bread) and their beautifully smoked cheese. Absolutely delicious!
The heat in Turkmenistan during this peak summer period was quite terrible though. It must have been about 45+ deg each day we were in Turkmenistan but I hear it can get up to 50 deg in the capital, Ashgabat some summers! I felt like a human shahlyk myself while out in the desert espcially! The wonderful thing out there was being amongst wild camels!
Ashgabat itself is an ultra modern 'marble city' of about 800,000. The roads and buildings are massive, in-laid with marble and expensive building materials. As Mrs Angela pointed out, the Turkmen leaders are not reknown for their modesty. A stark contrast to the villages and small townchips out in the Karakum Desert which we passed. Life must be unbelievably harsh out there in the desert. Just 2.5 days of desert and I've had enough! However, the evenings are beautiful in the desert, especially at sunset.
With this, we bid Central Asia, its curious cultures, hospitable people and stunning landscpes goodbye and cast our eyes across the Caspian Sea on the next mysterious region to be explored, the region of Caucasus where our new adventures are to begin when we disembark a cargo ferry at the port of Baku, Azerbaijan.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Cereal & Cold Milk at Tashkent Palace
The marble columns and olive organza and purple tulle curtains welcome me into Tashkent Palace as I heave my backpack over rich Persian carpets seemingly drenched in colours of red wine varietals. This modern Russian side of the Uzbek capital, Tashkent is a far cry from Gulnara B&B where we'd just spent the last 2 days. I feel like I have just crossed a border but in fact I have just travelled a few kilometres north of the same city.
Gulnara B&B was in the heart of old Tashkent where Chorsu Bazaar (the famed farmers' market) still bustles every morning with Uzbek women dressed in traditional headscarves and flowery maternity-like dresses and Uzbek men don their scull caps carting varieties of melons I have not set eyes on before. It is also where the wonderful aroma of spices from the age of Marco Polo such as tamarind, saffron, cardamon, cinnamon, teas, chillied spices, aniseed and a whole host of others which I can't quite put a name to punctuate the air with vigour and spectacularly colour the spice stalls.
But this morning, I sit in a world away from that experience in the luxurious surrounds of Tashkent Palace having paid a luxurious price for spending the night here. This is probably the plushiest accommodation we have experienced in our entire 3 months away so far (and even then it cannot compare with our bargain 5 star honeymoon experiences in South East Asia). We had initially counted on only spending 2 nights in Tashkent but it has turned to 4 nights partly because I fell ill the night we arrived in Tashkent and needed the recovery time and partly because the next high speed train, the Sharq leaves Tashkent for Bukhara, our next destination tomorrow (and not today which would have been more ideal). I suspect the semi-dried apricots I haggled for at a bazaar in Samarkand were the culprit for my upset tummy! But then, who really knows.... I was just thankful that Kenneth had recovered from his encounter with the runs in Dunshanbe and could take his turn showing me plenty of tender loving care while I had both the runs and was throwing up at the same time! This was a first for me ... but after a stressful day trying hard to replace electrolytes, I have recovered in very quick time and was really only ill for a day. Yesterday, I managed to walk around and scour Tashkent for train tickets to Bukhara with Kenneth though in a weaker than usual state. I am tempted to put photos of our ribs up with the caption 'Do you recognise these POWS?' but am also hesitating against it lest the joke causes our parents any anxiety. I am sure we will gain back all the weight when we cross over into Europe and head home via Asia (especially if we do stop by Singapore).
The dining hall at Tashkent Palace appeared set for a wedding banquet this morning with golden bows tied to each chair and tulle curtains blowing in the wind echoing a romantic interlude. The buffet breakfast was a feast for the eyes but what really caught my eye was the little table with cornflakes and a few other varieties of cereal scattered around a jug of cold milk! Something I have not come across in the last 3 months. After 3 months of being away from home, the simple pleasures in life like the familiar sight of a familiar breakfast brings such comfort and stirs a sense of longing for home in one's heart.
Gulnara B&B was in the heart of old Tashkent where Chorsu Bazaar (the famed farmers' market) still bustles every morning with Uzbek women dressed in traditional headscarves and flowery maternity-like dresses and Uzbek men don their scull caps carting varieties of melons I have not set eyes on before. It is also where the wonderful aroma of spices from the age of Marco Polo such as tamarind, saffron, cardamon, cinnamon, teas, chillied spices, aniseed and a whole host of others which I can't quite put a name to punctuate the air with vigour and spectacularly colour the spice stalls.
But this morning, I sit in a world away from that experience in the luxurious surrounds of Tashkent Palace having paid a luxurious price for spending the night here. This is probably the plushiest accommodation we have experienced in our entire 3 months away so far (and even then it cannot compare with our bargain 5 star honeymoon experiences in South East Asia). We had initially counted on only spending 2 nights in Tashkent but it has turned to 4 nights partly because I fell ill the night we arrived in Tashkent and needed the recovery time and partly because the next high speed train, the Sharq leaves Tashkent for Bukhara, our next destination tomorrow (and not today which would have been more ideal). I suspect the semi-dried apricots I haggled for at a bazaar in Samarkand were the culprit for my upset tummy! But then, who really knows.... I was just thankful that Kenneth had recovered from his encounter with the runs in Dunshanbe and could take his turn showing me plenty of tender loving care while I had both the runs and was throwing up at the same time! This was a first for me ... but after a stressful day trying hard to replace electrolytes, I have recovered in very quick time and was really only ill for a day. Yesterday, I managed to walk around and scour Tashkent for train tickets to Bukhara with Kenneth though in a weaker than usual state. I am tempted to put photos of our ribs up with the caption 'Do you recognise these POWS?' but am also hesitating against it lest the joke causes our parents any anxiety. I am sure we will gain back all the weight when we cross over into Europe and head home via Asia (especially if we do stop by Singapore).
The dining hall at Tashkent Palace appeared set for a wedding banquet this morning with golden bows tied to each chair and tulle curtains blowing in the wind echoing a romantic interlude. The buffet breakfast was a feast for the eyes but what really caught my eye was the little table with cornflakes and a few other varieties of cereal scattered around a jug of cold milk! Something I have not come across in the last 3 months. After 3 months of being away from home, the simple pleasures in life like the familiar sight of a familiar breakfast brings such comfort and stirs a sense of longing for home in one's heart.
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