Miles driven: 0
Time on Ferry:71 hours
Borders crossed: 1
**Blog was written incrementally as we were on Ferry so we decided to bucket it into one post. Be advised, it’s long**
Day 15:
In our last blog post, we were thrilled that on the day we arrived to Alat that we would be boarding a ferry only 7 hours after our arrival. We claimed one of the last available slots on the Turkmen operates ferry and joined with the Rally team campsite that had formed in the ferry parking lot. Some teams had been waiting days in the parking lot. We only had to wait hours. What luck we had! We had budgeted five days for the ferry based on past experience of other teams. Getting on the ferry immediately would give us so much flexibility going forward. Our team was still cautiously optimistic but we couldn’t afford but think about the extra days we may pick up in the Pamirs or in Kyrgyzstan.
Then we boarded the boat. That’s where all optimism began to fade. At around 11 pm all of the rally teams (about 10 or so in total) lined up for customs before heading to the boat. I wouldn’t call it chaos but it was the most unorganized customs process we’ve been on this trip. After clearing Azerbaijan customs, we entered the port and were effectively in “no-man’s land” until we landed in Turkmenbashi. A customs official said we had to X-ray all of our bags and boxes on our roof once we entered the port. We tried to find the X-ray but since A) no one knew where the X-ray was and B) unloading our entire contents of the car would have been a major pain in the ass, we just decided to get on the boat instead. We were finally on the boat - the Bagtyyar, an Uljanik-manufactured boat that was an ugly box of a ship. Optimism was still high but things were going to start looking bleak soon.
Dinner
Tasteful interior
We grabbed our sleeping gear, backpacks, a few provisions of food and left our car and made our way to the passenger level. It’s hard to describe, but let’s just say it’s nothing like a Royal Caribbean ship you’ve sailed to Mexico. On the passenger level, there are three main rooms. The room towards the stern is a large room with airplane style seats in three large columns. In the middle room, there are L-shaped couches that hug the walls forming a sort of lounge area which encircles the reception desk. The front room is the dining room and kitchen. Not knowing what to expect, we immediately claimed an L-couch as homebase. However, soon after laying claim to our couch space, a Turkmen women took our spots and shooed us to the floor. We tried to hold our spot but our attempts were in vain. Eventually we ended up with a bit of couch and some floor space to set up our sleeping pads. Our neighbors to to our right thankfully was a German rally team while to our left was a group of Turkmen women who often made jokes at our expense in a language we couldn’t understand. Once we had our spots, we began our check-in process. The check-in involved a guy transcribing by hand our passport information into a spreadsheet, collecting our boarding passes, and taking down our car information. One would think that this information could have been passed to the ship crew when we purchased our tickets at the port office, but that sounds too efficient. At 5:30 am we were checked-in and went to bed. We still hadn’t left port (original departure time was 11pm).
Our wake-up came at 9:30 with some foot nudges from our Turkmen neighbors gesturing that one of our two guaranteed meals was being served in the dining hall. Happily, we noticed our ship was moving and had been since around 8:30 am. We had finally left port. After a very bland breakfast of hard boiled eggs and unidentifiable sausage in a plastic wrapper, our boat came to a halt at around noon. Here is where optimism really began to fade. The winds were strong and the waves were choppy. At Alat, Monday’s forecast called for 45 mph winds. We had heard rumors that we could be anchored for 24-48 hours but no one had any clue. In our few hour journey, we had travelled north hugging the coast. We had anchored 10 km out from Baku.
Do you remember when you were a kid during the summer and a rainy day forced you to stay inside thinking of ways to stay busy? That’s what the rest of the day consisted of. We played card games with other rally teams - up and down the river, BS, spoons, shitheads. Settlers of Catan surprisingly was on the boat so we played that too. We’re the only American team amongst several UK teams, one German team, a Spanish team, two Portuguese, etc... so we had no problem trading conversations about life back home. Dinner was a bit better but still bland - some boiled barley and a chicken thingy. We ate, played a few more card games, and called it a night. Almost 24 hours on the boat, we went to bed hoping the boat would be moving by morning.
Day 16:
When we woke up the next day, the boat wasn’t moving which wasn’t great. Still we floated outside of Baku along with 30 other ships anchored as well. Azerbaijan’s coast was visible from our boat. The dining hall was also charging 15 Manat, around ~8 USD, for breakfast which was astronomically overpriced for the breakfast they were serving. Looked like if you wanted to eat, we now were going to have to pay. Mike wandered upstairs looking for a shower and through some Google translate and a friendly Russian crew member, we ended up with a key to a private cabin and shower in second deck. We shared the key with the rest of the rally teams and we all enjoyed a shower - a small victory as we floated on the Caspian. After showering, we got another small victory, breakfast now was being served for 1 USD - a much more reasonable price for 3 fried eggs, sausage, and very dense, dry piece of bread. However, the short victories paled in comparison to what we heard eating our breakfast: our boat’s earliest departure time was Wednesday night. That means the earliest we can be on Turkmen soil is Thursday midday. And given that Turkmen customs are a hellish nightmare, it could be Friday morning before we’re officially through. Through bits of cell service we picked up on our phones, we heard that teams waiting for the next ferry were screwed as well. It sounded like the next ferry wouldn’t leave until Wednesday or Thursday due to weather. Many teams still in Azerbaijan had to ditch the Caspian Ferry altogether and drive through Russia around the Caspian Sea into Kazakhstan. Had we still been on soil in Azerbaijan, we’d probably have considered going through Russia as well by car, but that decision didn’t really matter as we floated in the Caspian waves.
More card games, more route planning, more conversations. We taught two British teammates how to play Euchre (following suit is still a learning point). We also spoke with some truck drivers about our route through Turkmenistan and the drive to Darvaza and the Gates off Hell. Long story short, the roads are shit. Oh, and the last remaining bit of couch space we had in the lounge area was overtaken by our friendly Turkmen neighbors. Sleeping on the floor it is. Last but not least, the shop that sells chips, 1.5 liter waters, and coke seems to have prices that vary like the stock market. Yesterday a water and chips was 5 Azerbaijani manat. Today, 7 manat. Tomorrow who knows. Sometimes they accept USD. Sometimes only Turkmen Manat. Usually they try to rip you off for any purchase in any type of currency. Who knows.
At the end of the night, after a surprisingly tasty fried noodle dish and chicken thingy, we learned some news that changed the entire boat’s mood. Weather was clearing up and we were planning to resume course to Turkmenbashi by morning. Jubilation spread through the dining room. We capped the night off with a marathon game of salad bowl. A Romanian rallier was passing out his homemade grappa. It was plum flavored but tasted like jet fuel. The entire 1.5 liter bottle was emptied. After a fun-filled night of games we went to bed happy knowing that our boat would soon be sailing again. Even our Turkmen women neighbors who each day have closed in our personal space and tonight had shut off all AC vents turning our sleeping area into a sweat box couldn’t bother us. Tomorrow *hopefully* we would reach Turkmenistan.
Our neighbors in the middle room sleeping area
Day 17:
At around 8:30 am, even though our Turkmen lady neighbor friends were already boisterously chatting about who-knows-what, we heard the engines turn on. In about 15 minutes, we were finally moving. Turkmenistan here we come.
After another $1 breakfast, we spent the day lounging around. The sun was shining as we cruised across the sea. It was refreshing to see our so-called “express” ferry overtake other ships as we raced to Turkmenbashi. We heard rumors that back in Alat, AZ that several rally teams (upwards of 40) had stockpiled in the port parking lot. Ferries filled up while teams still waited; they couldn’t even leave the lot without losing their spot in line for a ticket. Upon hearing this, the team sighed in relief that they got a ticket to this ferry. Being on the ferry trumps being in a parking lot never knowing what ferry you’ll be on.
More games. More books. More conversation. More incomprehensible conversations with Turkmen passengers. We even heard through verified news sources that Turkmen president, who had been rumored to have died, was in top health and was seen driving trucks in Darvaza and bowling strikes in a local alley. The day flew by, ironically, as we discussed our route once we got off the boat. With the 10 teams or so aboard, most of us are planning to spend a day and night in Ashgabat, the capital city of Turkmenistan, aka Bizzaroworld. After Ashgabat, our caravan will head north to Darvaza and the famous, still burning natural gas crater that lights up the surrounding desert landscape earning itself the nickname, “The Gates of Hell”.
Land ho
After dinner, rumors swirled in the dining room that our arrival at port would be 9 PM Turkmen time. We believed it half-heatedly as all estimated target times were horribly missed thus far on our journey - “I’ll believe it when I see it” attitude. However, as we saw land on the horizon and as we noticed our Turkmen lady neighbors pick up their small caravan of goods, we looked at ourselves and realized, “we’re actually leaving this boat tonight”. Turkmen customs will be another story and problem once we disembark the lovely Bagtyyar, but still leaving the place we called home - the hard ground in a crowded, crappy boat with intrusive neighbors, lousy food, and staff the ripped you off - was a sentimental thought. As we pulled into Turkmenbashi as the sun set across the Caspian, I couldn’t believe we were about to enter the country of Turkmenistan. I couldn’t still believe we just crossed the Caspian Sea, a body of water I’ve always wondered about since reading the Chronicles of Narnia book that bore its name. Clichè as it sounds, I think we’ll look back at these past three days (a longer time we have spent in any city during the entire rally), and be glad with our choice of being on this ferry. Had some great conversations and laughs with other teams. But most importantly made some great friends with other teams we can hopefully convoy through the -Stan’s with. Goodbye, Bagtyyar, while you weren’t perfect, you weren’t entirely shit either. See ya never. -FWY
Author’s note: While the ferry landed at around 10:45 pm, we are still waiting for our final team member to clear security as of 5:32 am.
Out the back