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Man, they were everywhere. I have never seen so many cops in my entire life, most of whom seemed to be doing nothing of real significance aside from creating problems instead of solving them. Where pray tell might I be talking about? Well, I am talking about Russia and the former Soviet republics. You would think that with the number of police they have milling about in the cities and hiding behind buildings and bushes in the countryside in these countries that crime would be virtually nonexistent. Unfortunately, many of the cops are not there to protect and serve but instead are there to profit and make things unpleasant. You know something is not right when a traffic cop is driving a Benz to work from his mansion on the hill. 

I can’t say we weren’t prepared for a few encounters with cops on the take, but I definitely was not expecting to see as many as I did. Fortunately for us, we managed to make it through the minefield of questionable cops relatively unscathed. Overall, you can not really predict what types of cops you are going to encounter. Travel blogs are full of verbiage about "police on the prowl" and getting fleeced for simply having a pulse. Unfortunately very few sites offer any real information on what to expect and how much, probably because everyone has a different experience when driving through these areas.

The Uzbek cops were just waiting to see who showed up at the flash Toyotas parked in Samarkand

If there is one rule to abide by: play dumb and ask a lot of questions. Cops on the take don’t like to do a lot of paperwork, so the more documents you shove in their face and the more receipts you ask for, the more likely they are to get annoyed with you and move onto the next sucker. Simply saying no and goodbye repeatedly in the local language was enough of a Jedi mind trick to avoid some unanticipated ATM withdrawals. If anything, hold out for as long as possible… the more you waste their time, the more retirement fund contributors drive by. Who knows, maybe if enough people hold out, they will be forced into doing some actual police work. In places like Yosemite and Yellowstone, they have signs that read, "Don’t feed the bears." If the bears learn that people will feed them, the more they will want to interact with them… the more people feed the corrupt cops, the more they will want to interact with them.

"If you want to give me a ‘ticket,’ you’ll have to fill out a lot of paperwork."

In sum, the shadiest cops we encountered were in Kazakhstan and Azerbaijan. Fortunately, the dumbest cops we encountered were also in Kazakhstan and Azerbaijan, so we were able to wiggle our way out of virtually all shakedown attempts. By the time the cops tried to levy a bogus charge in order to leave Azerbaijan, we had become veterans of the game and they didn’t know what hit them. Uzbekistan took the cake for the number of checkpoints as we encountered an average of about four per day during the week and a half we were there. We did have some good experiences of note… the cops in Almaty, Kazakhstan were genuinely interested in helping us when we got robbed and in Uzbekistan, even though they have more cops that actual citizens, the police we encountered were all very friendly, especially when greeted with an "assalam alaikum" handshake.

We started keeping track of the number of times we got pulled over and the number of checkpoints we had to clear, but after the ink went dry in the pen, realized we would get writers cramp trying to document all of our encounters. In the end, we spent a little over a month in Russia and former Soviet republics. In that time, we got pulled or waved over approximately a dozen times, completely ignored at least four more, drove through about 25 checkpoints and managed to get through it all for only a little over $40, most of which came from my speeding ticket in the last 10 kilometers of Azerbaijan. The speeding ticket technically should not count since the guy did have a radar gun, although it probably hasn’t been recalibrated in quite a while. 

One of the areas that I wanted to visit since the beginning of this expedition was the Aral Sea. The Area Sea straddles Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan and these days is not really much of a sea anymore. In fact, experts believe that the desertification of the entire body of water could be complete in the next 15-20 years. The Aral Sea was once a massive body of water that was home to a variety of life and supported a vibrant fishing industry. Today, little is left of the fishing industry and the shrinking waters have become too contaminated with pollutants and chemical weapons waste to sustain much life of any type. The Aral Sea has recently split into the North and South Aral Seas and it is expected to divide again as it continues to dry up.

Bouey imagines what life was like when the sea was here while Karie tries to figure out how to use binoculars

The cause of the “Aral Sea Disaster,” as many refer to it, is the diversion of water from the sea to irrigate and sustain cotton cultivation in an extremely inhospitable and arid environment during the Soviet Era. Although the level of cotton production has declined and become more efficient, the diversion of water for irrigation continues. The canals diverting water from the sea lead off in every direction and reach as far away as Turkmenistan. However, poor maintenance and resource planning means that very little water actually makes it to it’s intended destination. Some people say that up to three times as much water is being drained from the Aral Sea as is replenished by natural sources.

The sign on the outskirts of town is evidence of what life used to be like in Moynaq

It is hard to imagine the magnitude of the effects the desertification of the Aral Sea are having in the region unless you see them firsthand. In fact, the effects are being felt as far away as Kyrgyzstan, where high concentrations of salt, sand and chemicals lifted from the dry seabed have been carried thousands of kilometers by winds. In the immediate area, the rainy season has shrunk from an average of 150 days of rain per year to a stunning 35… most likely due to the atmospheric effects of the shrinking sea.

To our surprise, life limps on in Moynaq

Thanks to the freedom of our Toyotas, we were able to visit the once thriving fishing town of Moynaq in the remote and isolated Karakalpakistan province of Uzbekistan. The shoreline of the Aral Sea now lies nearly 150 kilometers to the north of Moynaq. There are many towns like Moynaq, but here, the rusting, skeletal remains of a once proud fishing fleet that lay scattered across the sand dunes are a striking image of the ecological and economic impact that have been left in the wake of the receding waters.

Remnants of the fishing fleet litter the landscape

Moynaq used to have a population of over 2,000. By our estimates, the present population could not be more than 500. At least that is what it felt like. Moynaq was a total ghost town and everyone was left puzzled as to why any of the remaining residents would chose to stay out here literally in the middle of nowhere. After our arrival, we immediately spotted a few small boats rusting in the desert, but it was only after a few local children pointed us in the right direction that we found what we were looking for.

Small pools are all that remain of the Aral Sea in Moynaq

I have seen pictures of these boats before, but only after you see them with your own eyes, laying in the Martian-like  landscape that has become their grave, do you really start to understand what has happened in Moynaq and the surrounding area. I did a lot of thinking here. Why did they leave the boats here? Why didn’t they move them with the water? Why do they continue to drain water from the sea? Are there any other alternatives? Does anybody care at all?

Seeing what was left of the Aral Sea at Moynaq is unlike anything I have ever seen before. Hopefully, the governments in the region can come to an agreement on a solution, and hopefully experts and scientists are able to identify one that can restore part of the Aral Sea or at least stop its current evaporation. Unfortunately, by the time that happens, I fear it will be far too late and the entire region will be left to deal with the effects. Governments have been arguing over and scientists have been studying the Aral Sea for years. According to locals, if every scientist who visited the Aral Sea simply brought a bucket of water with them, the problem would already be solved. 

We are nearing our end in Asia.  From Indonesia to Russia we went spanned the continent South to North. From China to Turkey we will have made the passage from East to West. In covering this vast continent, we have encountered bandits, sand storms, snow storms, bears, foxes, cobras, camels, and countless geographical challenges. We have passed through the lands of the Soviets, Chinggis Chan, the Ming Dynasties, Mao, Ho Chi Minh, the Sultans and more.  We have seen some of the richest people and the poorest people. Our trucks have been our transportation, our home, our bed, our kitchen, our theater, our security. Temperatures have ranged from negative twenty to well over 100.

But over the last 7 months it has taken us to navigate this continent, none of the previous experiences would have prepared us for the last week we have spent leaving Central Asia…

On November 1st, while in Bishkek, Kygyzstan, we recieved word that the Uzbek government had accepted our requests for visas.  This gave us the prized letter of invitation to get us our visas for Uzbekistan. We then called to make an appointment at the Uzbek consul to apply for the visas and they gave us an appointment for November 3rd. Local info told us that we should have the paperwork ready before we went in for the appointment so the next day (Nov 2nd), we stopped by to get the forms. At this point the angry lady behind the counter in Russian pointed to the sign that said we needed to have a translator.  We raced over to a hotel that we knew had an employee that spoke good english and pleeded with him to come help us.  He agreed and that afternoon we received our Uzbek visas, only after paying an additional $50 "rush fee" in cash to the slimy guy behind the counter since we came a day early for our appointment.

Over the next two days sleeping in the trucks and one night a NGO workers flat in Osh, Kygyzstan, we made our way to the Uzbek border. The trucks we only allowed through the border one at a time.  I took Little Pepe through first without problem.  Bouey took the Thundra through next and I figured it would be the same for him and Tash. Karie and I sat on the Uzbek side of the border and waited, and waited. I could see Steve in the distance and it was clear that something was wrong.  Did they find the CB radio? What could be the problem. I later was informed that it was the fireworks that we had purchased in China as a souveneir. These "explosives" as the guards told Bouey could have got him in big trouble if he was not a tourist.  He was informed,. "It is illegal to leave those here and it is illegal to take them into Uzbekistan." The guards made hime walk the "explosives" accross the border and back into Kygryzstan where he left them on the side of the road.  This is the beginning of Central Asian paperwork and border madness.

From here we had wonderful time in Uzbekistan enjoying the wonderful hospitality and smiling faces of the friendly Uzbek people.  Other than the police checkpoints every 50-100km on the road and a week of visa work in Tashkent, things went quite smoothly.  Even at the checkpoints the guards seemed more curious than corrupt.  Tashkent to Samarqand, Samarqand to Bukhara, Bukhara to Khiva, the pace was fast but still fun.  We knew however that this 6 days of fun would quickly come to an end as we approached the Aral Sea and our crossing of the Caspian.

After Khiva we made our way to Moynaq, the formerly prosperous fishing community on the Aral Sea is now a wasteland in the middle of a highly polluted dustbed full of rusting boats, trash and a feel remenicent of Mad Max movies. The Aral Sea was drained by canals built when the Soviet Union was in power and is one of the worst ecological disasters in the history of the world.  This is quite apparent as you leave with a feeling of terror imagining what it must have been like for the people in this community to watch their livelyhood dissappear as shore of the Aral Sea now lies over 150km away from the village. The use of DDT and other chemicals has caused hundereds of health problems in the inhabitants of the area and these chemicals continue to spread around the area in dust storms caused by the dried out Aral Sea.  This does not exactly lift your spirits on your way into the no-man’s land that spans over 600km from Nukus, Uzbekistan to Aktau, Kazakhstan.

The next three days we drove 500km on offically the worst roads we have encountered. The Uzbek/Kazak border required an overnight stay in the middle of below freezing temperatures hundreds of kilometers from anything in any direction. Three times in the course of the week the trucks nearly ran out of gas. We only ate ramen noodles, salami and a few other odds and ends for over 5 days (the only food available). Upon our arrival to Aktau, Kazakhstan we were pulled over and harrased by the police within an hour and ended up sleeping again in the trucks near the trash dump outside of town, but at least it was on hill overlooking the Caspian. The next morning we were harrased by the police again.

To our delight we found out the next morning that ferry to Baku, Azerbaijan would be leaving that night. We were extatic. Our time in the beurocratic hell of Central Asia had finally come to an end, or so we thought. The next stop was the ticketing office for the ferry. Two hours later we had our personal tickets for the journey, but at the office they could not sell tickets for the trucks. I was told by the sister of the office clerk (she translated for us via phone) that I should go to the port immediately to deal with the trucks.  The boat did not leave for 10 hours, so this warning to go to the port right away did not seem to be good news.

At the port we visted the ticketing office.  After purchasing the tickets we had to get 5 different stamps from 5 different departments before we would be able to ship the trucks.  Each department was in a different place in the port. Customs down, on to immigration, immigration down on to some other department we do not understand the name of, from deptartment no name we went back to customs who informed us we needed a final stamp from "Pajera".  They pointed again to the opposite side of the ship yard. "Pajera, Pajera," we repeated to every person we could find.  They kept pointing toward a building we were conviced was the janaitors office as it smelled like a mix of paint thinner and cleaning chemicals.  The man inside had waived us away numerous times before.

Finally we went into his shack and said pajera one more time.  It was the pajera, or safety officer as we later found out.  In a room with signs all over the wall about fire safety and hard hats, our brief stay in the room got both of us so high on chemical fumes that we were about ready to pass out after he stamped.  These signs don’t seem to make much sense when the fire safety officer’s building is actually a mix of explosive chemicals located about 10ft from a gigantic oil pipeline to fill the tankers in the caspian. We did not care at that point now, we could not see straight and were finally done dealing with the paperwork.

Fifteen hours waiting in the customs/immigration room later and we were finally on the ferry, 6 hours later it finally left the port, 22 hours later we arrived in the Baku marina, 6 hours later we actaully docked at the port, 3 hours later we finished the rest of the paperwork and finally were out of customs and into Baku.  You can do the math. I do not know the exact amount of time it has taken us to get out of Central Asia. Bruised and battered, tired and sore, our time in Central Asia has come to an end at the cost of somewhere around 4 days worth of paperwork and stamps, 6 days of off roading and sleeping the cars, and a chunk of my sanity.

Within an hour of our entrance to the streets of Baku we made our way to MacDonalds, the first one since months ago in China. It was one of the best meals I have ever eaten…in a world with no consistancy or for that matter even food regularly available, the friendly sight of the golden arches is a weird kind of solace after the experience we just had.

I apologize for grammar/spelling errors in this post, but there was no time to proof read this puppy…I must leave the internet cafe and carry on for the last week in Asia.  Europe, here we come.

I have to admit, our time spent in Kazakhstan was less than to be desired. A series of events, albeit isolated, left a pretty bad taste in our collective TWBR mouths and we were extremely ready to leave. I do not want to take our experiences in Almaty, Kazakhstan and use them to generalize the entire country because I am sure our experiences were isolated… at least I hope so. The fact of the matter is, when you do have bad experiences they tend to stick with you for a while. So as to prevent our misfortunes from permanently burning a negative image of the country in our minds, we packed up what was left of our stuff and headed south into Kyrgyzstan.

Let the healing begin

What a difference a few hundred kilometers can make. In fact, just getting out of the hustle and bustle of Almaty aided in the mental healing process that needed to begin sooner rather than later. Once we were back out in the Kazakh countryside, we experienced much more hospitality. In Almaty, we were charged $7 for a dirty towel (which is what I thought typically happens when you use one), but in the countryside, a farmer worked around our tents even though we were camping in his field, apparently in an effort not to disturb us.

Even the local labor force came out to welcome us

Crossing the border into Kyrgyzstan further aided in restoring our faith in humanity. People were actually smiling and waved as we passed through their village or town. Instead of dodging oncoming traffic, speeding for no apparent reason, locals on horseback were racing along side the Tundra shouting out a welcoming "hello!"  In Kazakhstan, we were refused a room at the cheapest hotel in Almaty because we must have looked "undesirable" even though our money was still green, but the family who ran the guesthouse in Karakol, Kyrgyzstan wanted us to join them at their table for dinner and in Bishkek, the owners of the guesthouse went out of their way to help us find out more information about getting visas for Uzbekistan.

The healing process continues for us here in Uzbekistan. The people here are extremely friendly and genuinely curious about where we are from. Small children, parents and grandparents alike all wave and greet you with a warm hello. In fact, I think we received more waves and heard more hellos in the first hour of being in Uzbekistan than we have on the entire trip… all this in a country that we were supposed to be weary of. The food here is amazing and I am actually beginning to feel better about wandering out of view of our trucks. Unfortunately, all of the car alarms here in Toshkent sound exactly like the ones on the Thundra and Little Pepe, so I still wake up at night and run out into the street in my boxer shorts to see if everything is o.k. when I hear one go off.

The local Uzbek welcome wagon met us at the border

Ultimately, if you are in a bad situation, the best thing you can do is try to get out of it and for us, that meant moving on quicker than we had planned. In our experience on The World by Road, sometimes moving on means moving on into more unpredictability and uncertainty. We were hoping that in this case, moving on would be positive and as far as we can tell, it has been just that. At a time when all of us had lost a lot of our faith in humanity, Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan were just what the doctor ordered.