We woke up on the early side and began our drive as soon as we could. Our goal for the day was to reach the Russian border, and we had some miles to put away! Over the course of the Rally Charla spent a large portion of her time studying the map, and today we learned that Kazakh people also enjoy maps. In the morning we were pulled over by the police (for the eighth time in Kazakhstan), and Chase walked up to the officer to see what the problem was this time. (Unlike in the US where you sit perfectly still when pulled over, in Kazakhstan the driver gets out and approaches the police officer to shake hands and exchange pleasantries.) Suddenly the officer surprised both of us by jumping in the drivers’ seat! Maintaining her cool, Charla gave him a tour of the Panda from the passenger seat, pointing out the maps, the snacks, and of course our giant stuffed panda. The officer took his time to study our map of Central Asia before hopping out and sending us on our way. A couple hours later we were doing our grocery shopping in a military town when two met approached us; they didn’t ask about us, they didn’t ask about the car, but they did ask about a map! For the second time in two hours Charla had the giant map out and then men were fascinated by where our journey had taken us so far.
Our goal of getting to Russia was starting to seem a little too ambitious for today. We got into Semey around dinnertime, and after exploring the city decided it would be a fine place to dine. We devoured our meal in a local café, and as it as dark and raining we decided to stay in Semey for the evening. We decided to leave at sun-up the next morning, so it was coincidentally appropriate when the only hotel we could find was an hourly hotel. We kept it classy and purchased the 12-hour package, and called it a night.
Our day started when we wandered into the hostel’s kitchens to find two South Africans cooking a breakfast feast while lamenting that their Rally clothes hadn’t been enough to get them past the strict dress codes of Almaty’s clubs the night before. After a quick run to the shop to contribute ingredients, we sat back and spent the morning in the kitchen swapping stories and eating like royalty.
Eventually around noon we decided it was time to hit the road, but one thing first: Chase wanted to check out the Green Bazaar, Almaty’s largest bazaar. Once we reunited with the Elephants and the Lumberyaks it was off to the Bazaar, only to discover that it was closed on Mondays. Luckily for us though there was a little market next door, where Chase was able to purchase the much-coveted traditional Kazakh hats. By the time we left the market (and we watched the Elephants and Lumberyaks get pulled over by Almaty’s finest), it was already after 3PM; rather than hitting the road at such a late hour, we decided to spend the afternoon doing personal admin and then meet with Chase’s friend Aggey in the evening.
Right around sunset Aggey arrived at our hostel and offered to take us on a tour of his city. Aggey has spent his entire life living in Almaty and climbing tall peaks around the world; in June he had been in Alaska to climb Denali, and when he met Chase the two decided that they’d have to meet up during the Rally. Aggey’s pride in Almaty and in Kazakhstan in general was obvious as he told us the history of this major city at the crossroads of Central Asia. Well before we rolled into town in our Panda, the Mongols had crossed the Kazakh steppe, the traders of the Silk Road had plied their wares, the Soviet Union annexed Kazakhstan, revolution had led to the world’s longest-serving President in a “democracy,” and rapid development and modernization in a shrinking and increasingly-connected world all proved that Almaty is truly the social, cultural, historical, and financial capital of this interesting country.
The highlight of the evening was when Aggey brought us to Kishlak, a traditional Kazakh restaurant in the heart of the city. Like Kazakhs, we drank green tea and fermented mare’s milk while reclining beside the low table that was surrounded by beautiful tapestries on the walls. Aggey explained that a “kishlak” is the name for a large camp when multiple families of traveling nomads all temporarily join together; the perfect symbolic parallel to our convoys all camping together in the Kazakh desert! We feasted on traditional meals ordered by Aggey, and went to bed that night with full stomachs, active imaginations, and a strong desire to make it back to this wonderful city.
We woke up very early with hopes to recover some of the delay we experienced the day before due to the horrendous road conditions, and we set off for Bishkek. Our first town on the day’s route was Turkestan, which we had heard great things about from our French backpacker friend in Aralsk. The city’s architecture was stunning and a glimpse into the Uzbek architecture we wouldn’t get to see on this journey (why didn’t we get Uzbek visas again?).
We met a couple of wonderful people at the Gazprom station in town who shared a bit more about the city and region with us; the conversation started when one said in perfect English that he spoke Kazakh but not English. We were incredibly excited about this part of the country as we left. Then, driving through town, a dog doubled back on its trip across the street at the same time that we were crossing. We were horrified when we heard it, but then amazed when we stopped and found it still running and seemingly OK and on its way to care from a couple of locals, including a man we played charades with on the side of the road.
After a bit of shock, things got better when we were pulled over yet again by the police for a curiosity stop. Just after we left the police, we passed another Rally team heading in the opposite direction and on the other side of a concrete barrier. We honked, and they honked; yet, we couldn’t seem to find a place to talk to each other and kept going.
After an insane fifteen miles through Turkestan, the rest of the drive through the small part of southern Kazakhstan we crossed was uneventful. We were pulled over again, and we stopped to ask a couple policemen for directions in Shymkent. We grew to like the Kazakh police; they were by far the most friendly police on our journey and some of the most pleasant (and smiling!) people we talked to in all of Kazakhstan. In Shymkent, we also came very close to adopting a pet for our journey when we saw a small puppy outside of a shop; fortunately/unfortunately, he was well cared for by everyone working there.
Leaving Kazakhstan through the border crossing after Merki, we had a surprisingly easy, dare we say enjoyable border experience. Leaving Kazakhstan was a breeze, and then entering Kyrgyzstan, we encountered border officials who were excited about our journey and the charities we were benefiting. (Did you forget about them? Check out Cool Earth and the Lotus Children’s Centre, and help us on our campaign!) One guard even rose to shake Chase’s hand twice and offer him a cigarette—a meaningful gesture even though he doesn’t smoke—while the guards laughed and passed around Charla’s thick passport.
The drive between the border and Bishkek was a short one, and though unsure where we were in the city, the place we found for the evening was a good one. While looking for wifi in the area between the bazaar and a park-lined street, we chance upon the Koisha Hotel, where Rashid came to meet us.
As we walked through the city center, he gave us a quick overview of the main sights, including the opera house, UN house, and Bishkek University. Our walk ended at a nice coffee shop that served quality drinks and café food where we were able to catch up with Rashid on his exciting career in international relations and his thoughts on Kyrgyzstan.
The sunrise woke us up, so we got an early start to the day. Since there are frequent ramps to drive up and check under the car all along the highway, we made use of one and checked out the undersides of the Panda and the Thunderyaks’ Kangoo. After what we had driven through, they were pretty dirty but otherwise intact, so we continued down the road. To no surprise, as we rolled into Actobe, the police pulled us over again, this time slightly more interested in seeing some paperwork but not so interested as to push us for it. We left the roadside police to go to the police station to find out how and where to register our visas. They directed us to the immigration department, which was closed for lunch.
Since the officials were taking a lunch break, we thought it was time for one as well. After asking around, we got directions from a nice man named Aslan to a restaurant in the basement of a hotel called Sultan. There, we spoke on the phone with someone who spoke a little English; by the end of the conversation, we still weren’t sure what we were ordering, but went for it anyways. Half an hour later, a feast arrived with chicken, potatoes, rice, salad, and a piece of salmon. Far more in need of a food-coma nap than accomplishing tasks, we went to the immigration department where we waited in line for nearly an hour until a woman opened the covered glass window and took our passports. In the meantime, the Cads and Bounders arrived, and the teams had plenty of time to catch up.
Much later than we had planned, we left Actobe heading southeast while the Cads stayed in town to get their car issues sorted. Not far outside the city, we were thrilled to see a gathering of Rally cars at a roadside pull off (complete with one of the aforementioned ramps!)! As they were finishing their dinner, we shared road stories with Don Tiki, the Yard Monkeys, and From Denmark to Mongolia. The last team had been on their own for the entire Rally after having car problems in Berlin, and they had been quite isolated as they took the crazy road that we turned away from in Makat, which took them three full days to travel. So, we added them to our convoy and set off for Aralsk. After a market stop, we drove into the night until finding a camping spot about an hour north of our target city. There, we got to know the new guys as we checked out the stars.
We were up and out of our perfect camping spot fairly early since we had a bit of back-tracking to do. On the positive side, the navigating was much easier the second time around. Once back in Atyrau, we needed the usual grocery, gas, and bank stops, which somehow took our teams over an hour. So, at noon, we were finally ready to leave the same spot we had left the day before at noon. The delay was a little disheartening since we were trying to make it to Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan, at a good pace in order to catch up with one of Chase’s friends before the friend traveled home to Uzbekistan. (Yes, we really should have looked at a map more carefully and arranged Uzbek visas…)
As we headed due north out of Atyrau, the driving was as pleasant as the many people who stopped us en route to Makat had described. The scenery was fairly uniform, but the road conditions were good—something we needed considering the rain pouring down for the first couple hours. We made good time to Oralsk, a city not far from the Russian border that we would have passed through if we had taken a left turn in Russia near Tambov rather than traveling south to Volgograd and Astrakhan. In Oralsk, we attempted to register our visas at the police station and then at the immigration building with no success. We decided to settle the visa registration the next day in Actobe and drove around town until we found a good place for dinner. The small bar and café we found served delicious meat and vegetarian spaghetti-like lagman. The sun was setting as we left town and continued east.
That night we experienced the first of what would be many police stops in Kazakhstan. Two officers pulled over the Panda with the blinky orange batons while the Kangoo waited ahead. They greeted us in a friendly manner then asked where we were from and where we were going. When Chase answered Alaska, they laughed that it was cold there and how hot he must be in Kazakhstan. In unison, they shouted “Good-bye!” and we were back on the road. Not long after, we pulled off and found another great camping spot where we were able to stargaze for hours.
Today’s lesson: Skinny lines on maps of Kazakhstan do not indicate good roads.
After last night's gray and rainy weather, we were extremely pleased to wake up to sunshine! We took a leisurely cruise through Konotop, and enjoyed the smiling people, the colorful train station, and Konotop's local trams hurrying people throughout the city. It was an entirely different city to the evening before! Unfortunately, there still was a tiny bit of Ukraine's ugly side on our way towards the border: Chase got stopped for speeding, but after negotiating the bribe down to ₴210 we were on our way to the border!
Welcome to Russia! Post-Soviet industrial archeology!
After the nightmare of getting into Ukraine, we were imagining the Ukrainian/Russian border to be extremely difficult; luckily, we found the opposite to be true! On the Ukrainian side Chase purchased our car insurance for Russia, and when the insurance salesman figured out we were driving the Mongol Rally she got excited! She left her booth and walked our paperwork to the Ukrainian officials for us to leave the country, thus allowing us to skip the line and just drive the car right out with very few questions. The Russian side was even better! All of the customs paperwork was in Russian, and of course we didn't understand a word of it. (And, of course, there is a lot of customs paperwork to bring a car into the country.) The poor border patrol officer, who didn't speak English, had to help us answer every question one by one, which took a lot of charades and miming. Eventually we got all of our paperwork ready to go, but it was quite the project. Right as we finished, an Italian woman who was riding a motorcycle into Russia and also didn't speak Russian asked the officer for help; Charla intervened, and using her Italian she instructed the woman on how to fill out the customs forms for her motorcycle the way we did for our car. The officer was so happy he didn't have to translate the whole thing again, he expedited our entry and waved us right through!
Once we were in Russia, we knew we weren't going to make it all the way to Moscow before dark, so we starting hunting for a place to camp. We found a very nice monument in Khatsun, and cooked our dinner at the monument as the sun set. Khatsun was a tiny, tiny village, as we were surprised to find the massive "Khatsun" memorial clean and in wonderful shape. Even more surprising, while we were cooking dinner two memorial guards who were doing their rounds stopped to say hello and see what we were up to. Though we just entered Russia, it was immediately obvious that Russia took its history very seriously; it was nice to see that Russia truly respected its monuments and memorials, even in small out-of-the-way towns where very few people would see them.