The 'Stans of the former Soviet Union

Bishkek, capital of Kyrgyzstan

Exchange rates: 1 € = 70–72 Som; 1 US$ = 58 Som; [June 2021 and May 2025: 1 € = 100 Som]
Normal income: approx. 20000, 35–40000 is considered very good [ø 2025: 39.000 p.m.].

Of the cities visited, Bishkek was certainly the most relaxed, which is probably also due to the fact that, unlike the other 'stans, the country has had two changes of president since 1991 (although there was outside “nudging” – Kurmanbek Bakiyev had to leave because he had dared to close the American air base).1 Like all cities developed during Soviet times, Bishkek is characterized by the almost complete absence of street signs (outside the city center), as well as house numbers or name. If you only want to ask for directions using sign language, as I had to do without Russian, you’re screwed, to say the least, especially at night!

HE still shows the way. Alas, HIS statue has been moved from the main square to the rear of the National Museum. 

Manas Airport is located about 33 km from the city. It can hardly be said to meet international standards. If necessary, you can get into the city by Marschrutka, (Not a taxi, but also not a real bus: the Russian minibuses with the pretty name “Marschrutka” are a type of public transport, which is particularly widespread in the regions. They can not be stopped by potholes, traffic jams or a lack of asphalt. The Marchrutka driver is a kind of superhero on the Russian streets: he can drive with one hand, make calls to the mother-in-law, collect the money from the passengers and give them change thereby bringing his right arm into unnatural positions. He can estimate the amount of the weight of the coins and at the same time answer questions about the route. All of this, of course, at maximum possible speed. Because: time is money.) that miracle of inefficiency that operates much of the former Soviet Union’s public transport system. These are converted station wagons (a la Sprinter) – mostly old German workmen’s vehicles, as the lettering makes clear – that can cram 10–15 people into them and basically never leave as long as there’s still room. With luggage, it gets tight. They serve certain routes irregularly at a fixed price. Otherwise, you’re at the mercy of the taxi mafia, who in Central Asia, even more than their counterparts elsewhere, are all crooks who cheat strangers. (I met only one decent, honest driver in my entire time.)
Shared taxis also cover longer distances between smaller towns, since there is no decent rail service and long-distance buses hardly run at all. They’re jam packed with at least five passengers, all of them carrying half their worldly possessions. It’s hard to imagine a more grueling ordeal than six hours spent crammed with three people into the back seat of an Opel Astra, over bumpy roads, every single one a full backpack on their laps, especially as many men in the region emit a body odor similar to male goats due to their paperless toilet practices.

I arrived early in the morning on the first cold day of autumn. It was raining steadily, later followed by sleet at just below 6 °C, while I wandered around for 1½ hours under dim street lighting until I found accommodation that turned out to be lousy and overpriced. The Hostel Inn, centrally located at number 142 on the noisy Chuy Ave., the city’s central east-west axis. The bath consist of a 1.50 m square shower/toilet combo for 15–20 guests. This is ventilated into the four-person dorm, which can lead to considerable olfactory nuisance. Cleaning was superficial at best. Lesson learnt: Experienced travellers always bring a flashlight, earplugs and toilet paper.

Well, right at the start, I not only caught a bad cold, but also bought a down jacket for € 100 at the North Face store that would easily cost € 250 back home. Too bad it didn’t get cold again until the end of the trip. I was left lugging the thing around. Luckily, down compresses well. (I've since come to the conclusion that I got a Chinese fake, but it’s still warm.)

Bishkek city centre 

More images from the Kyrgyz capital, the traces of its Soviet past, art in public spaces and its less representative sides, can be found below in the section “One Week in Bishkek” 2024.

Report of another traveller ripped off 

On the morning of my departure, near Osh Bazaar, I fell victim to some very convincing-looking fake police officers who robbed me of € 150 using the age-old “change your banknotes” trick. It wasn’t so much the amount that was annoying, but rather the fact that I was familiar with the scam and had been explicitly warned. At least I had the experience of spending the rest of the morning observing the not-so-efficient Kyrgyz police at work. A young, friendly Russian woman who I had met on the plane interpreted by telephone. The cops were clearly trying hard, probably because they were annoyed with the “competition,” but couldn’t spot the guys. It was understandable, really; they had earned enough for the next two weeks. Two policemen kindly drove me to the bus station and put me in the right minibus to Almaty. As the picture from a report by a Japanese tourist shows, at least I wasn’t the only one who fell for the scam. – And what can we learn from this? Genuine Kyrgyz police officers ALWAYS appear in uniform on their ID cards, even if they’re working in plain clothes. With the additional hole in my budget, after buying a down jacket and getting an Afghanistan visa, I decided to shorten the trip by ten days.

More » Bishkek 2024

Almaty and Kasachstan

Exchange rate: 1 € = 230 Tenge; 1 US$ = 180 T. [Juni 2021: 1 € = 508 ₸, May 2025 581 ₸]
Average income: ø 120000 ₸ (€ 530; 2024: 434.000 ₸ = 740 €), up-to-date rates of the National Bank.

View from the Avaritsya (Авразия-азс) rest stop on the Kazakh A2 highway between Almaty and Bishkek. 👆 Autumn 2014 and 👇 April 2024.

My stay was essentially limited to three days in the former capital, Almaty (formerly Alma-Ata). I only visited that because it was comparatively easy. Firstly, there are direct buses from Bishkek and secondly, the Kazakh government lifted the visa requirement for citizens of the ten most important investor nations for 15-day visits of any kind, effective July 15, 2013, “on a trial basis for one year.” This regulation was extended for another year in 2014. [In subsequent years, it was expanded to include all EU and EFTA citizens for 30 days.] Anyone staying in the country for longer than 30 days must have their lungs x-rayed and present a negative HIV test. This latter discrimination, in particular, is completely intolerable given that the town of Temirtau was the epicenter of the Central Asian AIDS epidemic. Large areas of the country are restricted areas and can only be visited with special permits, such as the Baikonur region (with the cosmodrome).
The registration requirement for foreigners (Of course, we also have registration forms in hotels and the obligation to register your place of residence with the municipality within 14 days, but what has to be done here within five calendar days is of a completely different calibre.) continues [even in 2021]. In principle, every foreigner must register by the fifth calendar day of arrival (including the day of entry). Better hotels will do this upon request. Non-CIS nationals can only register in Almaty and Astana. Theoretically, under the temporary suspension of the visa requirement, arrivals are automatically registered. This is recognizable by the two stamps affixed to the migration card. This only works reliably at the airport; it is often “forgotten” at land borders. Failure to register carries a fine of € 200.

The country is [was] an authoritarian presidential dictatorship where the finest personality cult is practiced around the “Kazakhbashi” Nursultan Nazarbayev. [Nursultan resigned in March 2019 but continued to act as a strongman in the background. The capital Astana – built from the desert during his term in office – was renamed Nursultan in his honor. Just three years later, it became Astana again.] For example, on the top floor of the Bajterek Tower, skyscraper/observation tower, for a fee, there is his handprint in gold – it is said to bring good luck to ordinary mortals to place their hands there. In contrast to the other regional dictatorships, a comparatively large amount of money from oil and gas revenues is trickling down to the populace (with enough left over for the presidential clan), so that the standard of living of those still remaining in the country is higher than in neighbouring countries. Almost all of the “Volga Germans” resettled to Kazakhstan starting in 1941 now live in Germany. The Russians returned to their homeland, but still constitute the majority of the population in the northern cities. Prices, especially for food, are sometimes significantly higher than in Central Europe (for example, in the grocery section of Kaufhof). However, transportation costs (cheap gasoline) and accommodation are affordable.2 [The lifting of the price cap for LPG in January 2022 triggered the unrest in Kazakhstan in 2022, which, according to Western intelligence agencies, left approximately 225 dead and 4,300 injured, including 2,700 requiring hospitalization.]

After the border, with efficient processing on both sides, the road initially passes through some mountains, where you can see sheep and goatherds on horseback. Soon it becomes flat … endless expanses. I won’t go into the many ecological disasters of this country, which, with rising global temperatures, will become a complete desert in a hundred years – already there is a region called the ”Hunger Steppe” (Betpak-Dala).

Almaty, formerly Alma-Ata

Almaty’s symbol – no worm in sight.

In the “City of Apples,” people are proud that the ancestors of the Prunus genus originate from the region. Anyone who knows me understands why I dislike the place for that reason alone. Almaty is a massive city that grew rapidly during Soviet times in a checkerboard pattern. It has no actual city center. Orientation is difficult without Russian; the only useful signs with street names above the respective cross streets serve the numerous drivers. As everywhere in the region, street signs on buildings are scarce, house numbers are rare and doorplates with numbers or names (This custom dates back to the good old Soviet times – the men in the long black leather coats from the KGB didn’t know who lived where when they came to pick someone up in the dead of night.) are completely unknown.
It is pleasantly noticeable that people adhere to traffic rules. Even at 2:30 in the morning, people slow down at zebra crossings for pedestrians. Some drivers even fasten their seatbelts.

Panilov Park and Churches in Almaty 

Thanks to my gullibility, I had spent the morning at the police station in Bishkek and, after a five-hour minibus ride, only arrived at the out-of-town bus station just after dark. With me on the bus was an English woman writing her master’s thesis on Kazakh environmental problems and a, let’s say, “somewhat odd” German man who at least knew his way around the bureaucracy. In Kazakhstan, “any car is a taxi,” only the price is negotiable. Somehow, I made it near my accommodation, then spent 20 minutes in a dark backyard trying to find the place. They promptly booked it out. They very helpfully organized a room for me at Hostel 74/6 via Google Maps and phone, which turned out to be a hit at around € 10. Newly renovated, clean and with functioning plumbing, I even had a cute cat as a roommate. The next day, I was joined in my room by a Russian man with the same BMI as me, who, without being asked, but who was obviously knowledgeable, informed me about the prices of “women for one night” in various cities. Later, a Japanese guy who spoke unusually good English and had an exceptionally good sense of humor joined me.

Since a nationwide gambling ban (except for sports betting and lottery tickets) has been implemented, the town of Kapchagai (Qonajew) is being developed into one of the “gambler’s reserves” and the “Las Vegas of Central Asia.” Today, there are almost fifteen casinos there. I haven’t gone there [even in 2024].

Almaty Metro 2014 

» Kasachstan 2024

Towards Tashkent

I then took the night bus to Shymkent. The planned departure time was 6 p.m., which was when we drove to the gas station, then back again to spend a solid two hours loading up flat-screen TVs in every available corner. The fare is tiered. The further back you sit, the cheaper it becomes. The last rows cost a third less than the front.

Theoretically, minibuses travel the 120 km from Shymkent in Kazakhstan to the border crossing, but I only found one taxi at a special foreigner’s price. The remaining twelve kilometers into the city can be covered by taxi (2014 per vehicle, up to 4 people, 20,000-40,000 som depending on your negotiating skills). The journey with Marshrutka 82 from northern Tashkent (Buyuk Ipa Yoli metro station, formerly “Maxim Gorki”) to the center from the border village is considerably less comfortable with luggage. A shuttle bus is available for the remaining distance.

Usbekistan

Black market exchange rate: 1 € = 4000 Som [June 2021: 1 € = 12600 Som]; 1 US$ = 3120 Som
official subsistence level (2011): 202000 S., average income 600000 before tax, 400000 net.

Welcome to a rather nasty police state

Uzbek visa. For multiple entries and exits, the stamps are stamped on a different page. Only on the last exit is one stamped on the visa. [Since the beginning of 2019, Europeans have been allowed to enter the country visa-free for 30 days.]

You are ruled over by Islam Karimov the First (President of Uzbakistan), as can be read on numerous newly built monuments.3 He likes to see himself, perhaps not entirely free of Caesar-mania, as the successor of Tamerlane (1336-1405. In European historiography better known as Timur. From 1370 to 1507, the Timurid Empire flourished in the area of ​​today’s Afghanistan, Iran and Uzbekistan. The capital of the Timurids was initially Samarkand, later moved to what is Herat in Afghanistan today. A branch of the dynasty conquered the Delhi sultanate in 1526, transformed it to the realm of the Great Mughals until its fall to the British in 1857.) (called “Amir Timur” in Uzbekistan). Remember, he was in spirit descendant of Genghis Khan, who, in the 15th century, devastated the region with his scorching and murdering horde, leaving little. Falsifying history, Timur is being built up as an national symbol, the “forefather of the Uzbeks.” Historically, this is nonsense; the ancestors of the Uzbeks only emerged from somewhere out of the steppe onto the stage of world history two hundred years later – equally keen on raping and pillaging.

Karimov, a relic of the Soviet Politburo, has ruled with an iron fist since 1990.4 Especially since the Andijan massacre, (In Wikipedia On 13 May 2005, protests erupted in Andijan, Uzbekistan. At one point, troops from the Uzbek National Security Service (SNB) fired into a crowd of protesters. […] It was claimed that calls from Western governments for an international investigation prompted a major shift in Uzbek foreign policy favouring closer relations with autocratic nations, although the Uzbek government is known to have close ties with the U.S. government and the Bush administration had declared Uzbekistan to be vital to US security because it hired out a large military base to US military forces. The Uzbek government ordered the closing of the United States Karshi-Khanabad Air Base …) which left at least 400 dead (officially 9), “Islamists” have been treated not with soft gloves. While that’s not a bad idea in itself – after all, Muslims aren’t tolerant of others – boiling prisoners to death is a bit excessive. The Americans also tortured here (So-called “enhanced interrogation” cf. Folter und die Verwertung von Informationen bei der Terrorismusbekämpfung. Die Fälle Kurnaz, Zammar und El Masri vor dem BND-Untersuchungsausschuss. This is not the place to deal more precisely on the complicity of the current German president Frank-Walter Steinmeier who as Foreign Minister was deeply involved in covering up the detention and torture of German citizens by US forces worldwide.) until they were expelled from the airbase. British Ambassador Craig Murray found this unbearable; he took the excesses to the world press and was promptly dismissed from the diplomatic service as being detrimental to UK policy.5
But now enough raging, my experiences:

Tashkent

The border crossing near the capital, Tashkent, on the Uzbek side lived up to the horror stories travellers tell. Although, like many of Uzbekistan’s land borders, it is closed to vehicular traffic (due to Uzbekistan’s deliberately poor relations with almost all of its neighboring countries), numerous migrant workers benefit, particularly during the cotton harvest, from the significantly better wages and shopping opportunities in the neighboring country.
The Kazakh side is still comparatively efficiently organized. Customs showed little interest in outgoing travellers. It was busy enough to require a queue of about 20 minutes at the passport control counter. Europeans with many stamps in their passports are still a rarity, so they take time for a brief interrogation – I don’t speak Russian anyway (“pa russki nyet!”) and English certainly not in situations like this. The policeman flicking through my passport was confused by my visa for Nagorno-Karabach and asked his colleague: Where is that? Armenia.

This is what 20 Dollars get you. The 1000 Som note, 0,25 € at the black market rate was pretty much the only criculating note. A few 500s existed, the highest denomination being the then newly introduced 5000-S. [Scans der von mir gesammelten Geldscheine der Region siehe unten.]

On the Uzbek side, the tone becomes considerably rougher. Processing doesn’t happen at the speed of an Aldi checkout, more like a post office counter. Next to me in a jostling crowd was a Russian who, at 10:00 in the morning, was so intoxicated that just catching a whiff of his breath made you drunk. He proved to be quite civil, though, even if he did occasionally hold on to someone’s shoulder. An hour later, about 20 people had been processed at the two open counters. We went into the customs building, where the pushing and shoving continued until customs declarations had been filled out in duplicate amidst mountains of bags and suitcases. We were let into the actual inspection area one by one through a barrier guarded by a soldier, who was already checking to see if everybody had filled out the forms. Now “Ivan the Drunk” was right in front of me. He mumbled and held a crumpled piece of paper out to the soldier. I don’t understand Russian or Uzbek, but the reply was clear: “You drunken pig, shove that slip somewhere else. Make sure you bring back a new one, filled out properly and get lost now, right now! Dawai! Dawai!” The customs officer checking my slip then asked in English if I was coming to work. When I replied, “No jobs here,” he had to grin. After scanning my luggage, I was relatively quick out the back door.

The money changers at the café at the exit have, of course, “never” heard of a bus to Tashkent. In fact, you have to take a marshrutka to the bus station, from there you take line 82 to the north of Tashkent (metro “Buyuk Ipa Yoli,” formerly “Maxim Gorki”). With a bit of skill, you can haggle taxis down from 40,000 to 20,000 som. On the outskirts of the city, my experience of the police state for the second time – everybody gets stopped at a checkpoint, complete with watchtower and a pillbox by the side of the road. These things can be found throughout the country at every major highway intersection, town exit, or provincial border.

Taschkent 2014 

Legally, foreigners cannot purchase a SIM card in Uzbekistan [apparently permitted since 2017]; 10-day tourist cards are only available at the telephone company headquarters. However, one might find someone in a bazaar who will buy a card in your name for a commission. In such countries, even a law-abiding European has to get used to the fact that a lot of behind-the-scenes dealings take place and that this is relatively safe because the surveillance system, which in Germany has been systematically expanded down to the smallest detail since 1976, is simply not that advanced yet. Internet café operators are only allowed to provide devices that do not have download capabilities (USB ports). This was particularly annoying, as I had scanned my personal travel guide on the flash drive to save weight. I've been told that sites like YouTube or Facebook, or anything in the slightest “Islamist” or critical of the government, are more often down than up. (This also applies to Tajikistan and, to a somewhat lesser extent, Kazakhstan.)

The city of Tashkent, largely destroyed by an earthquake in 1966, is spread out, but thanks to the metro, which is still under construction (1,000 Som per ride = € 0.25), it has a decent public transport system, supplemented by six tram lines. [All tram service was ended in May 2016.] Photography is prohibited in and around all public transport facilities throughout Uzbekistan. On the last day, I actually had to delete a picture of a mural in the subway from my phone.

Security becomes really annoying when you take the subway. At every staircase to the mezzanine level there is a guard who (in theory) has to inspect the carrier bags of everyone going in. At the escalator to the platform there is another guard with a scanner to x-ray bags and people if necessary and to check papers. When on the second day by 1 p.m. I was stopped for the third time this time by someone who was obviously of higher rank (judging by his badge), said “Passport!” again, I lost my temper: I told him in perfect Bavarian what I thought of him and his checks. Completely stunned, he took a step back. He immediately recovered, cursing back in Russian. I gave him a copy of my passport, which he then just looked at briefly and off I went. When I told this little anecdote to my Russian friends that evening, their reaction was sheer disbelieve. A local talking like that to a law enforcement officer can expect at least an unpleasant afternoon at the police station. Strangely, after that I was never stopped, even though I used the subway frequently every day.

Spooked by warnings about the mandatory registration of foreigners (The German Foreign Office warned: Innerhalb von drei Tagen müssen sich Ausländer (ausgenommen Diplomaten) beim UVViOG (Verwaltung für Ein-/Ausreise und Staatsbürgerschaft, ehemals OViR) des jeweiligen Stadtbezirks anmelden. Bei einem Hotelaufenthalt übernimmt das Hotel die Registrierung. Bitte beachten Sie, dass bei Einreise mit einem Touristenvisum eine Registrierung nur über Hotels erfolgen kann. Sofern Sie anderweitig, z. B. bei Familienangehörigen oder Bekannten unterkommen möchten, muss Ihr Gastgeber vor der Visabeantragung seine Einladung beim UVViOG zur Beglaubigung vorlegen. Der Einlader muss anschließend die Einladung bei der Konsularabteilung des usbekischen Außenministeriums vorlegen. … Im August 2012 wurden die Bestimmungen über Einreise und Aufenthalt dahingehend verschärft, dass ein Ausländer bei Verletzung der Aufenthaltsbestimmungen abgeschoben werden kann mit der Folge einer Einreiseverweigerung von einem bis drei Jahre. Als Verletzung des Aufenthaltsrechts gelten hierbei ein Aufenthalt ohne bzw. mit ungültig gewordener Aufenthaltserlaubnis sowie die Nichteinhaltung der Bestimmungen über die Registrierung bei vorübergehenden oder längerfristigen Aufenthalten. Einzelreisende, die sich ohne hinreichende Orts- und Sprachkenntnisse (russisch/ usbekisch) nach Usbekistan begeben und mit einem Touristenvisum einreisen oder ihren Aufenthalt vor Ort verlängern möchten, müssen aufgrund der strikten Vorschriften für die Einreise und den Aufenthalt des öfteren mit Schwierigkeiten rechnen, … Bereits minimale Überschreitungen gültiger Visa ohne rechtzeitige Verlängerung … führen bereits zur Ausweisung mit erheblichen Einschränkungen der Bewegungsfreiheit unter Einbehaltung des Reisepasses. Im Regelfall wird eine hohe Verwaltungsstrafe verhängt, und es muss mit einem Verbot der erneuten Einreise gerechnet werden. … Der Registrierungsbeleg ist Voraussetzung für die Buchung von Flügen bzw. Fahrkarten für Reisen im Landesinneren und muss bei der Ausreise vorgelegt werden. Die Einhaltung der melderechtlichen Vorschriften wird von den zuständigen usbekischen Behörden erfahrungsgemäß genauestens überprüft. Die Mindeststrafe bei Missachtung der Vorschriften beträgt ca. 700,- €. von: http://www.auswaertiges-amt.de/DE/Laenderinformationen/00-SiHi/UsbekistanSicherheit.html 2014-11-19. This has barely changed by 2024.) — officially, any private overnight stay is prohibited — I stayed at the Mirzo B&B – yet another misguided recommendation from a certain English language travel guide. Overpriced by local standards, with rarely warm showers. With an attached travel agency, the somewhat shady operator happily profits from poor exchange rates and excessive fees. The next day, I moved into the much better-run, cheaper Gulnaras Guesthouse where breakfast was included. A lovely courtyard furnished with sofas and tables made the stay bearable.

I then spent the weekend as a couchsurfer with a Russian, where I gained deeper insights into living conditions in Uzbekistan.

Tashkent Vokzal the main train station, previously known as Severnay Vokzal (“Northern Station”) until the southern Yuzhni Vokzal was closed. It is appropriately located south of the New Town at the end of Tashkent Street. Access to the extensively cordoned-off station building is only possible after a thorough security check, ticket check and passport check. The rules are less strict at the bus station, where you only have to go through a scanner. “For security reasons,” there is a nighttime bus ban in the country. Given the vast distances, this means that buses only depart early in the morning. The journey from Tashkent to Samarkand takes approximately 4–5 hours, covering a distance of 290 km. “Rest stops with sanitary facilities are unknown” was how the German Foreign Office phrased it.

Samarkand

Samarkand is Uzbekistan’s national showpiece; its historical sites have been extensively restored with foreign aid. When UNESCO added the inauthentic restored madrasas and mausoleums to its World Heritage List, it clearly succumbed to pressure from the dictator and softened its strict standards regarding historicity. Virtually all of the old buildings date from the period following the Mongol invasions, even though Samarkand has a much longer history. Even those constructed in the 15^th to 17^th centuries had fallen into complete disrepair under the cruel, slave-owning sultans (Given this history one could argue that the Karimov dictatorship is not atypical. Cf.: Encyclopaedia Iranica: CENTRAL ASIA In the 18th-19th Centuries) before the Russian conquest in the second half of the 19^th century. Islamic rulers have no appreciation of history or art. It was only during the Soviet era, partly as a result of increased immigration to the Central Asian republics from 1941 onwards, that the cityscape was significantly improved.

Timurid Mausoleum (Go'r Amir Maqbarasi) and Registan 
(Note about the photos: Not all leaning towers are due to poor cell phone camera quality or parallax error. Several of the buildings shown are actually not plumb.)

There are many more mosques to visit in Samarkand, such as the Juma or Bibi-Khanym Mosque. Also the old city center with the Ulugʻbek Observatory. In terms of style, they hardly differ from the ones pictured here. Therefore, no photos. At least my obsession with blue tiles (more), which I've had since a school trip to the Pergamon Museum in Berlin, was catered for.

My accommodation, “Bahodir B&B,” 132 Mullokandova St. (facing the Registan’s main entrance, about 50 meters to the right to the wide footpath, 150 meters through the park, at the first fork (in front of the ice cream parlor) turn right, about 30 meters on the left side of the street), turned out to be a great find. The prices for a dorm room of US$ 10 or a single bed in a triple room for US$ 15 are reasonable, although I treated myself to the luxury of a single room, if only because the shared shower wasn’t that great. A friendly family business with a cozy courtyard, including a hearty breakfast. Very popular with the French and Japanese.

In the Bahodir-Hostel truly great rulers are admired. [Pictured on the flag is king Ludwig II. of Bavaria, murdered 1886 after a reactionary coup. A homosexual visionary and admirer of Wagner’s operas who gave the world Neuschwanstein Castle (not the one in “Disneyland”) – he is to this day frequently referred to as “Fairy tale king”.] (A Karimov statue is in the park around the corner.)

Due to time constraints, I decided not to make my originally planned tour to northern Uzbekistan, via Urgench (approx. 700 km) to Khiva , which is 35 km away and worth seeing because of its preserved, lively old town. I also cancelled the onward journey to Nukus, located north of there, which would have been interesting because of its Igor Savitsky Museum of banned Soviet Art. From there, you could have taken a day trip to Moynaq, 220 km away, to the former shore of the Aral Sea, including its “ship graveyard.” It should be remembered that the ecological catastrophe of devastation is (in the truest sense of the word [The German „Verwüstung“ means “desertification” as well as “total destruction”]) entirely man-made. The lake could be refilled to its previous level within 6-7 years if only Kazakhstan and even more so Uzbekistan would abandon cotton cultivation and the associated irrigation. In Uzbekistan in particular, cotton cultivation is still firmly in state hands, with harvest proceeds accounting for about a third of state revenue. The harvest is mostly carried out by hand by people otherwise employed by the state, as a form of corvée. (Cf.: Forced labour in Uzbekistan: In the land of cotton; The Economist. 2013-10-16) State employees and many schoolchildren aged ten and over, are “sent to the countryside” and paid so poorly based on the amount they harvest that they have to bring money with them for their stay (Uzbeks only tell foreigners such things in their private homes after a few …). [In 2014, the practice of sending schoolchildren to the fields for up to two months ended. Since the privatization of cotton cultivation in 2019, forced labor has nominally been abolished. Private sector restrictive contracts with high quotas are still being imposed on farmers by state buyers in 2020.] I also didn’t go to Shakhrizabz, which would have been on the way to Termez, after several visitors who had been there advised against it due to extensive construction work in the area of ​​tourist interest. Instead, I finally got to travel by train, in a 3rd-class couchette (Russian: “platzkart”). Classic Soviet broad-gauge carriages with four beds in an open compartment. When purchasing a ticket, you must present your passport, which is compared with the number on the ticket upon boarding. The provodnik was of the usual sour type, but reasonably efficient.

Termiz

For once, the Hotel Surxon (aka “Surkhan”), renovated in 2018, proved to be a rip-off-free place to stay and at 35,000 som (€ 9 2025: from € 20/double), it’s definitely worth the money. Aside from the usual plumbing issues common to Central Asia, it’s a really decent, well-equipped hotel, including air conditioning, massages, a fitness room, a buffet and a hair salon. While it was probably the best value in town in 2014, it looked considerably more expensive from the outside. It’s often used by local couples during the day for extramarital sex, which can be clearly heard through the thin doors.

Temiz 

The situation is quite different at the Archaeological Museum, founded in 2002 by order of Karimov, the First (President of Uzbekistan). The price for foreigners is exorbitant: 20,000 Som, while locals pay only 500 S. Six kilometers from the modern city center, whose main axis is Al-Termizi St., there are some excavated ruins of the ancient Buddhist monastery of Fayaz Tepe dating back to the first centuries CE. Due to its close proximity to the border fence, a large part of it lies within a restricted area and the excavations themselves are still ongoing. Those with a museum ticket can also visit there. Photography permission costs extra.

The pleasantly shady, large city park offers, in addition to the usual Soviet-era attractions—rusty carousels, etc. — a large artificial lake for swimming with a water slide, drained in winter and certainly welcome in summer. The place is considered the hottest in Uzbekistan, with maximum temperatures recorded from June to August reaching 50 °C and the average daily high of 38–39.7 °C

Even after the withdrawal of German combat troops from Afghanistan, which occurred around the time of my visit, Termez Airport remained in use by the Bundeswehr, which had had a base there since 2002. A new, secret lease agreement (The German Bundeswehr sent up to 5350 soldiers to fight with ISAF. Details of the 2005 agreement: Dr. Pflüger »rettete« Termez, 2005-12-27. Its extension 2015: Neuer Geheimvertrag mit Usbekistan, 2015-01-05. „Bis Dezember 2015 fungierte Termez als „Safe Haven“, um im Notfall alle deutschen Soldaten schnell aus dem Einsatzgebiet in Afghanistan evakuieren zu können. Am 20. Dezember 2015 wurde der Strategische Lufttransportstützpunkt vom letzten Kommandeur, Oberstleutnant Thomas Blätte, geschlossen.“ https://de.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Strategischer_Lufttransportst%C3%BCtzpunkt_Termez&oldid=192699800) was negotiated in 2015 to serve the then-remaining 850 non-combatant Bundeswehr soldiers.

Hairatan border crossing

View of the Afghan “port” of Hairatan ( حیرتان ) from the Friendship Bridge.

The only way to get to the border post is by exorbitant taxi; the local marshrutki are all Isuzu minibuses with absolutely no room for luggage. I've described the border crossing procedure on wikivoyage.8I must note, however, that I had few problems leaving the country, even though Uzbek customs officers are notorious here. This was certainly due to the fact that, for the first time, the picture of Hitler inserted in the back of my passport helped me. (Aside: I personally have nothing to do with Adi, as is well known, but I heed advice given by the Därrs. (The Därrs were a couple pioneering Sahara crossings in VW. They also travelled through Asia in the 1970s, wrote books about it and ran a long-famous outfitter’s shop in Theresienstraße in Munich. One of their tips was putting a picture of Hitler behind the windshield when travelling to Muslim countries.) After the customs officer discovered the picture, the enthusiasm for a strong Germany that can be heard everywhere in the region followed: Most people know about FC Bayern, Mercedes, Hitler and, unfortunately, increasingly also “Mrs. Merkel,” who enjoys a reputation for her economic policies – “there is no alternative” somewhat upsets me.

The “Friendship Bridge” between Uzbekistan and Afghanistan.

The "Friendship Bridge" (Мост Дружбы), built in 1982, between Uzbekistan and Afghanistan, can be crossed on foot . The beginnings of a railway line were built during Soviet times. The Americans then expanded it into their camp in Mazar. There is no passenger traffic, except for people trained to kill professionally.

The customs officer was not interested in the registration certificates I had diligently collected. The customary body search, which one hears can extend to every bodily orifice, was a cursory pat-down of my jacket. I only had to empty the bottle of vodka after taking a hearty swig, because: “Islamic Republic in Afghanistan.” The customs form was also stamped blindly. The exit stamp in my passport came after a short wait, followed by the walk across the “Friendship Bridge,” which is well-secured on the Uzbek side. It was built by the Soviet Union in 1979, demonstrating its unbreakable friendship with the Afghans. The Americans – thrown out (Up to 7,000 troops were stationed at the Khanabad military airport, or K2 for short, in “Camp Stronghold Freedom” since 2001. In 2020/21, around 70 American veterans who now had cancer claimed that the cause was the radioactive and oily filth left behind on the Soviet-era base. A congressional hearing was held on the matter. The Department of Defense denied any connection. (https://phc.amedd.army.mil/PHC%20Resource%20Library/EnvironmentalConditionsatK-2AirBaseUzbekistan_FS_64-038-0617.pdf). It’s always interesting to observe the whining reactions of people whose job it is to kill women and children. The CIA broadcaster RFE/RL reported in April 2021 that the Biden administration is again seeking bases in Kyrgyzstan (Manas Airport was used from 2002 to 2014) and Uzbekistan. (https://www.rferl.org/a/u-s-military-bases-in-central-asia-part-two-/31219781.html) by the Uzbekbashi in 2005 after daring to criticize a massacre of 400 civilians6 – and the German Air Force, which was stationed at Termez Airport, used it to build a railway line to supply the occupation troops.

Tadjikistan: Dushanbé and Khujand

Exchange rate: 1 € = 6,8–7 Somomi (divided in 100 Dirham) [June 2021: 1 € = 13,5 Somoni, May 2025: = 11,3 Somoni].

On the other side, the second border guard noticed that my visa wasn’t valid until the following day. His colleague had already waved me through (the usual “Minchen? FC Bayern; Mercedes; Gitler – good.”) A lengthy palaver ensued until they decided to call the “komandir,” who soon arrived. More palaver. An Afghan man told me in English that they had already decided to let me in, but first they had to put on a bit of a show.

Tajik customs and border control still operates meticulously, following the Soviet model. Locals are “allowed” to expedite processing by shoving banknotes relatively openly across the table. The fee is 20 Sonomi (€ 3) for a passport stamp and 40-50 Sonomi for the customs officers, depending on the amount of goods brought. No bribes are demanded from Western foreigners. Luggage is routinely x-rayed and searched. Cash amounts in international currencies must be declared verbally. Most travellers must empty their pockets in the back room. The rest of their luggage should never be left unattended in the anteroom, as thefts by staff are said to be common. Upon entry, you will receive an additional form, which must be retained until departure.

After I’d packed up again, I was escorted under guard to a fenced-off area to the major’s office with another officer. We drank tea, he called a relative who spoke English who interpreted over the phone, back and forth, more tea, another phone call, even more tea, brought by a young recruit. At some point, a border guard brought my passport, which was placed in front of the major and left there for a while, because there was more tea to drink. After another round of telephone interpretation, interrupted by another cup of tea, I was told: “Welcome to Tajikistan.” Six hours earlier than allowed. (The stamp in the passport, however, is suspiciously faint.)

The major then escorted me out. Turning to the young recruit, he said something like, “Soldier! Carry this man’s backpack!” He then did so to the gate. Untying my pack for another soldier who had taken over, a minibus that was just passing was stopped. Civilians are not allowed to walk anywhere in the border area. After a friendly farewell from the major as I boarded the minibus, we drove the two hundred meters to the shared taxi stand. The bus driver, who brazenly demanded 5 sonomi from two other passengers, was apparently uneasy. I got the ride for free.

The two Afghans on the bus, one a former UN employee who had previously been stationed in Mali, immediately arranged to share a ride with me to Dushanbé and negotiated a fair US$ 60 for the driver to our door. We were driven in a well-maintained black Mercedes 190 with 350,000 km on the clock. The driver then tried the “increased fare” trick with me when I got out, apparently because the rate of the somoni had dropped rapidly …

Pamir Highway 

Every summer a few madmen cycle the Pamir Highway in eastern Tajikistan at altitudes way above 3000 metres.

I also changed my already vague plans for the trip to Tajikistan, this time due to weather conditions. See my route map under Possible Plans in the Pamirs, where various routes from Kunduz via Faizabad along the Pamir Highway to Osh in Kyrgyzstan are indicated – it certainly is a “high way” in the truest sense of the word given the altitudes. The route goes through the high mountain region of Badakhan (GBAO for short). This region comprises 45 % of the country’s territory but only three percent of the country’s population. Not only foreigners require a special permit; Tajiks are also only allowed to enter the region, which is predominantly inhabited by Ismaili Muslims (Ismaelites are a Muslim sect that exists without mosques or imams. They worship their spiritual leader, the Aga Khan, like a god and give him a significant portion of their income. Recognized by the English as an Indian prince, these gentlemen have lived lavishly in Europe for several generations as part of the jet set, as readers of those “yellow press” that have been available in doctors' waiting rooms since the 1960s will be familiar with, specially thanks to the “Begum“ (Yvette Labrousse 1906–2000, gefolgt von Gabriele Renate Homey *1963, alias Gabriele Thyssen, alias Begum Aga Khan, alias Gabriele Prinzessin zu Leiningen). Every now and then, a few crumbs fall to the faithful. They provide famine relief in the region, subsidize hospitals and schools and talk loudly about it, as befits charity.) and suffered from acute famine in the late 1990s. This stamp is available free of charge in Europe upon application for a visa; in Central Asia (e. g., Bishkek), the fee is US$ 90, although there is no guarantee of success. Applying in Dushanbe is said to be even more complicated. If you look online, you’ll find numerous blogs by extreme cyclists who are tackling this gravel road at 3,000-4,000 meters.
I've been told that the shortest route, through magnificent scenery, from Kunduz via Faizabad to Khorog can be snowy from the end of September and I would probably have had to hire a jeep for US$ 300-400 on my own. Alternatively, you could have reached the border town of Ishkarshim in the very south of Tajikistan from Faizabad; this route is also snowed unter from October onwards and is probably only accessible by private car. In Tajikistan, there is only one bus per week on this route, so I would probably have had to try hitchhiking for the 3-4 days to Osh. Not an encouraging prospect in early winter at 3,000+ meters with the corresponding nighttime temperatures.
The route through the Tajik Kulyab, although probably still snow-free up to Khorog, would also have required a private car.

Dushanbé

Pronunciation note: The name of the capital, Dushanbé (Душанбе), is accented on the final e. The “dj” in the country’s name denotes the voiced alveolar fricative (ʑ).

Former world’s tallest flagpole, Somomi monument, new presidential palace and eagle in Dushanbé’s central park.

The population’s customs and traditions clearly reflect the migrant element that came from rural areas during the civil war, replacing the Russian-born intelligentsia who fled. One ironclad rule in traffic is: Do not brake for pedestrians! Otherwise, traffic lights and speed limits are merely recommendations. You’ll be regularly flagged down by the traffic police anyway and you’ll be fined an average of 20 Son. for “violations” in cash and without a receipt.

Practically all of the tourist attractions are located around the central north-south axis, Rudaki Prospekt, south of the former Chum department store. My couchsurfing host also lived very close by. I really shouldn’t say anything bad, since he put me up for three days, so I’ll just say this: “God created a large zoo and everything in it,” D. is a Jewboy from New York, two facts he loudly announces. As an employee of the American Chamber of Commerce, he is a very much the Unpleasant American. He is also a racist, full of contempt for the people among whom he has lived for seven years. An unkempt figure who spends his weekends watching American college football in front of the TV, he is simultaneously too lazy to change a lightbulb – he calls the janitor for that. I had the “pleasure” of overhearing two phone calls with his secretary – I couldn’t stand two days with such an obnoxious boss from hell. (A side note: I am fully aware that for reasons of “political correctness” it is strictly forbidden to say even a single negative word about persons of the Chosen People who control God’s Own Country, all of them are by nature perfect and inapproachable … I have therefore been extremely polite in my description above.) I was happy to give him the bilingual Koran from Kunduz for further learning about cultural differences.

I was only able to stroll through the relatively compact city of Dushanbé on the first day. From day two onward, it poured with rain plus the “döner kebab of death” took effect. The evening before, I met up with C., a German development worker who has been trying to establish a real estate financing system in the country for several months. At the expat bar Public Pub, I tried the “local wheat beer” (as mentioned on the menu), which tastes like a very sour Pilsner.

Dushanbé 

You can get to Khujand (Хуҷанд) from the Cemzavod Avtovokzal (“Cement Factory Bus Station”) at the end of a trolleybus line at the north end of Rudaki Ave. Pumped full of charcoal tablets (I couldn’t stomach much after two days of “Delhi belly”), I let an Opel Vectra driver hijack me for a reasonable price, not considering that in weather like this in early November, Bayern 3 [A Bavarian radio station] would likely announce bsnow at higher altitudes” on their traffic report. On top of that, a Vectra has front-wheel drive and my driver only had summer tires. At some point, we ended up pushing the car up the hill until a snowplow came along. At least I learned two more Russian words from my fellow passengers along the way: 1) “prrroblèm” in view of the blanket of snow and 2) at the toll booths: “Schlagbaum” (barrier) – Russian isn’t that difficult after all! After all, the route, upgraded by a Chinese company and operated for several years in exchange for tolls, was in a condition one would expect from a state highway in the far reaches of the Bavarian Forest. It takes you through some very wild, long and unlit tunnels in a very remote mountainous region. In one village, I saw a sign for the “Welthungerhilfe“ [a German charity] base.

Khujand

Sharq Hotel. Paying any amount to the sharkish owner is too much for this dump.

After an hour of wandering around, I ended up at the “Shark Hotel,” recommended by the region’s only international travel guide, in the green and yellow building of the same name near the bazaar, recognizable by the 1954 Lenin/Stalin medallion on the facade. There’s no signage, but the bed costs 15 Son. (US$ 3). You very literally get what you pay for: a shared restroom with three pit toilets but no doors doors and no running water. Ancient beds and unwashed sheets, which fortunately you can’t tell given the dim light in the room. I treated myself to the “luxury” of booking a three-bed room for myself. At least I got a room key. To shower, you have to use the facilities in the bazaar’s public restroom (8:00 a.m.-6:00 p.m., 5 Son.). A gentleman keeps quiet about their condition, but at least the running water was warm. The owner of the “hotel” speaks rudimentary English but can’t provide any information about his hometown. While he chatted at me, he nibbled incessantly on moldy white bread. The beds turned out to be so sagging and short that I voluntarily slept on the floor that night. Maybe I'm just getting old, but I do have certain expectations regarding the quality of accommodation these days … As of June 2025 Мехмонхонаи Шарқ is still listed on google maps

After I had found out at the station far out of town that there were no trains to Kyrgyzstan, I decided to bite the bullet and next morning to again:

Transit through Uzbekistan

I first took a marshrutka the sixty kilometers to Kanibodam, then from the bus station there continued to the border. Due to Uzbek harassment – ​​Tajikistan is even less known for being “Islamic” than its other neighbors – the border is closed to car traffic (I can’t confirm whether this also applies to foreign vehicles) and otherwise, not much happens.
First, I had to stand around outside the Tajik post for half an hour before I was even allowed to set foot on the sacred ground of the border crossing. Customs was uninterested in me. The border guard, in a cubbyhole with a sticker informing me that it was financed with EU tax money, spent a good ten minutes typing the data into the computer using my passport in the one-finger search system. Now, I hadn’t bothered to register with the KGB (now called OVIR) in Dushanbe within the required three days. While this is no longer required for tourists staying for up to 30 days, this exemption seems to only apply to tour groups, not to “private trips.” The young border guard only noticed the missing piece of paper after he had already stamped me out. A convincing “Touristy, registratio njet!” was enough to intimidate him.

Road station hotel

On the Uzbek side, where I've heard that customs officers sometimes take three hours to look through all the images on a laptop, I was first greeted by the ”feldscher” – another lovely Russian word from the pre-modern German word for “military surgeon” – to take my temperature because of Ebola and such …
On to customs, where, surprisingly, the form, which had to be filled out twice, was even available in English upon request. In the small hut heated by a wood-burning stove, a large plasma screen was playing an Uzbek soap opera at full volume. The customs officer handling it, who spoke good English, finished the form in two minutes. The usual conversation with the men followed: “From Minschen? – Ah, FC Bayern,” then “BMW,” “Mercedes gutt,” and “Mrs. Merkel“ … The usual counting out of my cash was omitted. I did have to unpack half of my backpack and was asked for a “notebook” – I pulled out my pocket diary, clearly a “notebook.” After the pun was cleared up with mutual laughter, I could pack up again – I didn’t need to show the photos from my cell phone and despite having a beard I was not judged to be an Islamist either. The whole process took less than five minutes.
I waited a little longer at the passport counter. Not only because we were typing in the one-finger-system again, but also because the power went off and three Uzbeks needed half an hour to find the fuse which is clearly visible on the wall at the back and then press it back in …
We then went to the next village in a minibus whose driver didn’t want Tajik somomi. The price for the locals was 2000 Uzbek som. He first asked me for 3000, but when I saw my small dollar bills and cheekily reached for the fiver (15,500 S.), the scene quickly became unpleasant, so I gave him US$ 2 just to get rid of him. Meanwhile, I was surrounded by the black-market money changers outside the bazaar – it’s always astonishing how hectic people who usually just stand around idly all day can suddenly be. When converting from somomi to euros to som, I made a mistake and ripped myself off by 20 %. No matter, it wasn’t much. Armed with 65,000 Som in 500-Som notes, a guy drove me briskly fifty kilometers to Kokand for a reasonable 15,000 Som. From there, in a shared taxi, with the aforementioned only decent taxi driver I met in six weeks, I drove ninety kilometers to Namagan for 4,000 Som (in the front seat!). He not only dropped me off at the correct departure point, but then negotiated properly with the connecting driver to Uchkurgon, the last town before the Kyrgyz border near Shamaldy-Say. A marshrutka with two drunken Russians took me to the crossing. They were so enthusiastic about the foreigner that they not only paid for the ride but also wanted to take photos.

By now, it had gotten dark. I entered the Uzbek border post through a large gate after an preliminary passport check. There were maybe ten or fifteen people in the waiting room with me. I was asked if I, as a German, had a bicycle with me – no other compatriots had been seen at this post yet. First, the customs check began – a horribly meticulous woman in front of whom I stood in line. She found 3,000 undeclared Belarusian rubles on the man in front of me – pennies. She led him away amid a lot of shouting and huffing. Bang, another power outage. After three-quarters of an hour in the dark, the others waited outside, electric light and the border guards returned. I quickly went to their cubicle, second in line. The copper at the counter was amazed that it was possible to get from one border crossing to the other in just six hours. Stamped out – the customs officer hadn’t reappeared yet. I, too, had not declared a small amount of change on my form, so I hurried through the back door into the courtyard, where a soldier checked my passport once more. He opened another large gate, and I was in Kyrgyzstan.
Where, please? In front of me, under a starry sky, a dirt road, no house, no police station, nothing. A low barbed wire fence on the left and right. A good 1.5 kilometers further on, on the right, two khaki-painted trailers by a crossroads. A look into the first one – no one inside. A look into the second: five border guards having dinner. I have to sit down and eat with them, then have tea. When I want to count my cash for customs control, the sergeant waves me off and tells me to quickly put the bundle back in my pocket so that no one sees police officers through the door taking cash from strangers, lest they be suspected of corruption. One of them gets up, takes my passport into the other trailer and returns it, stamped, five minutes later. The sergeant walks me out onto the street and, using the might of his uniform, tries to flag down cars. About the tenth one stops, a colleague. After some talking, he takes me ten kilometers to a trucker’s hotel. This costs all my (small) cash in Kyrgyz som. There’s no money exchange or ATM in this remote corner of the Fergana Valley.

Kirgisia again and flight home

Across the mountains and lake Toktul

After transiting through Uzbekistan on November 5^th and spending a pleasant night in the truck driver’s hotel near Shamaldy-Say (Шамалды-Сай), I had to return to Bishkek. There are still bus stops along the main road, which is over 800 km long and connects the two largest cities. But buses no longer run, because the road is supposedly too dangerous. So I hitch-hiked like the locals do. At first I didn’t realize that drivers only stop if you want a lift the 500 km to the capital. After about a quarter of an hour, a decent-sized Honda pulled up. The very first thing one of the passengers wanted was my address so he could get to Germany to work - as a truck driver, that’s a frightening prospect given the driving habits typical in Central Asia. I must say, though, that once he took over the wheel later, he drove well. After much deliberation and telephone calls, they found a German teacher among their acquaintances who interpreted a little and passed on the good news that I would be given a ride all the way to Bishkek.

The “wild” Kirgizia 

The route itself climbs gently from the Fergana Valley to a mountain range, past the country’s largest dam before Karakol, the Toktogul Dam. Then it goes past Lake Toktugul, just beyond which we stopped for lunch. We had fried fish from the lake, similar to salmon – even my still-weak stomach could handle that. This is followed by an 80-kilometer climb to the Ala-Bel Pass at 3,484 meters. After that, there’s a plateau where, in the summer, yurts are set up for tourists who prefer a remote setting. The landscape is very attractive, but completely treeless. Four-thousand-meter peaks greet you from afar. After about sixty kilometers, you would reach the Tör-Ashuu Pass at almost 3,600 meters. However, a few years ago, a tunnel was dug that runs 1,000 meters under it. Then the road descends relatively quickly into the plains of Khüy Province, where Bishkek, a hundred kilometers further, lies at an elevation of 800 meters.
The usual fare would have been about 1,500 Som, but the car owner charged me 2,000, which was about half the gas bill for the entire trip from Osh. Considering the comfort of the new car, the pleasant company and the safe driving, this was a premium I was happy to pay. They actually had to drive me to an ATM on Sovietskaya. On the way the driver got pulled over and had to bribe himself out of some imagined traffic violation.

Bishkek, a second time, Nov. 7–12^th

Viewing the Caucasus.

I was able to take it easy for the last few days before my return flight. I stayed at the Sakura Guesthouse, run by a Japanese-Kyrgyz couple. Here, I had the opportunity to speak more Japanese in one week than I had in the previous three years. In these parts of the world, one tends to meet rather unconventional Japanese travellers.

Somewhat annoying – the only time outside of Afghanistan – was the morning wake-up call from the muezzin, which set all the neighborhood dogs howling even louder shortly after 5:00 a.m. Otherwise, in this region, as in Switzerland, you don’t hear any calls to prayer. [A national referendum forbade the construction of minarets in Switzerland 2009]
Since my return flight would have been at 7:00 a.m. had it not been delayed for two hours, I spent the last night at the airport, dropped off by a taxi driver who pretended to have absolutely no change, but then suddenly pulled it out, only a small bill at a time, from some hiding place in the car. Until Istanbul, I was fortunate enough to have a seat by the emergency exit with sufficient legroom. In Munich, I only presented my ID card at border control as a precaution; you never know how people will react to certain stamps …

Food and Curiosities

A few pictures of curious things in Central Asia, plus lots of food shots. [Expanded 2024.] There’s also a collection of recipes I picked up along the way.

German words not needed anywhere in the world: Kühlkette [cold chain], Lebensmittelüberwachung [food safety inspection]. Fresh meat at Osh Bazar of Bishkek.

More pictures of meals in my » Foodporn gallery.

Railway Museum in Tashkent 2014

If you’re already buying tickets at the station, it’s worth stopping by the Railway Museum (музей железнодорожной техники) on the other side of the forecourt [supplemented by pictures of Soviet steam locomotives elsewhere].. It’s described in more detail on the English Wikipedia.

Kazakhstan and Kirgizia, April 2024

Distances: Astana ⇨ Pawlodar 437 km ⇨ Semipalatinsk 333 km ⇨ Almaty 1100 km ⇨ Bishkek 237 km. Bishkek ⇄ Cholpon-Ata 262 km each, Tokmok 76 km. Bishkek ⇄ Kara-Balta 61 km each.

Astana

Exchange rate: 1 € = 450 Tenge (₸)

China has lifted visa requirements for stays of less than two weeks for six nationalities, effective December 1, 2023, “on a trial basis for one year.” Wouldn’t that be a good opportunity to get there “from behind“? Astana with Pegasus is easily affordable at € 240. At first, I didn’t even notice that my booked date, March 31, would be Easter Sunday. No matter, I hadn’t been to that area in ten years and as described above, I’d only seen Kazakhstan for five days in Almaty. I didn’t like it that much back then either. Perhaps the rest of the country is more pleasant? Let’s be clear: it isn’t!

Only in the National Museum does he still hang in 2024: Nursultan Nazarbayev, here as a centerpiece of a tapestry.

Politically, the situation has eased somewhat. A vigorous effort is underway to dismantle the megalomaniacs Nursultan Nazarbayev memory. This began with the capital, renamed “Nursultan” after HIM in 2019, being renamed back to Astana in 2023. His personal museum (Abay Ave. 11 / Beibitshilik St.) also appears to have closed due to the lack of a dedicated dictator. There was no sign on the fence anymore, but several panels with his photos still stood in the park in front of it. In the museum of the “Presidential Center,” all traces of him have disappeared. The National Museum shop is once again selling Lenin pins, but not HIM. Pirated copies of the eight-part documentary (Kazakhstan’s golden man gets the Oliver Stone treatment … The series got its first airing on July 6, a date likely known to every man, woman and child in Kazakhstan as the birthday of Nursultan Nazarbayev – whose state-engineered cult of personality has now been more than a decade in the making. […] Qazaq: History of the Golden Man is ostensibly about more than just Nazarbayev, though. It is being cast as an epic voyage through Kazakhstan’s nomadic history all the way to the present, but with a heavy focus on the role of the man who takes credit for forging the modern-day nation state.
Stone’s interviews with Nazarbayev form the backbone of the documentary, which was directed by Ukrainian film-maker Igor Lopatonok. […] Stone’s tweet prompted a flurry of outraged and sarcastic responses. ’We’ll call him a corrupt tyrant and stop at that, thank you,’ riposted one user. ’How much money did they pay for this propaganda?’ scoffed another. ’Creepy Leni Riefenstahl vibes,’ …” ) with interviews by Oliver Stone: Qazaq: History of the Golden Man (2021), are nowhere to be found online — apparently rightly so. No one has even bothered to create a torrent. These Kazakhs seem to be a thankless bunch of scoundrels; after all, he only kept half of the natural gas and oil profits for himself and his family! Fortunately, at the top of the Bayterek Tower, you can still place your hand in HIS golden imprint, after which the national anthem will play for ten seconds.

I arrived at the surprisingly small and quiet Astana airport early in the morning. I changed money and went to the bus stop and number 10 came promptly. The driver didn’t sell tickets - they haven’t been available for a year. Astana’s public transport switched completely to mobile phone payments. A Kazakh kindly did it for me. It’s a good ten kilometers to the city, most of it along an unfinished, never-completed elevated railway. The person paying got out halfway there and I did the same so as not to be caught riding without a ticket. I still had a good four kilometers to walk with my luggage to the accommodation I had booked. Not the worst idea, as I want to lose weight. It’s a few degrees above zero. The path leads past “collapsing magnificent buildings.” The city was built from the 1990s at record speed. Shoddy construction and decay due to lack of maintenance are already everywhere. I cross a bridge over the still frozen Irtysh. It’s the first time I've seen a completely frozen river. To the right of the bridge is an “embassy building” with numerous representations of European countries, including Germany. On the other side is another one, where, among others, there are offices of the Swiss Confederation. This makes it easy to control these foreigners. A little further on, the Russians have a large presence. Directly across the street is the Military History Museum, with its forecourt full of Soviet-era heavy equipment, which I’ll visit later.

Eventually, I reach the booked accommodation, the Elite Hostel. When I booked online at home, I was asked: “Have you read the reviews? Do you really want to go there?” - “Yes, it’s cheap and I can easily last three days” – definitely a case of “Told you so.” The service had the charm of Aeroflot stewardesses circa 1975. (Some Kazakhs independently told me that the residents of Astana are generally considered rude by the rest of the country.) As I lie down on the assigned bed, the springs poke through, leaving a huge hollow in the middle. No chance of sleeping even ten minutes here. The room is empty, the mattress replaced with a rock-hard one from another bed. Hardly better, but still. There’s a sink, too – just no running water. The kitchen has no ventilation, so the stench permeates the house. On booking.com I made a brief, final assessment:

2.0: Stay away! Good: Nothing except leaving. Bad: Mattresses with springs poking through. Receptionists, all 3, who are graduates of the Aeroflot school of rude stewardesses ca. 1980. 2 of the 3 toilet cubicles had no working doors, one had none. Kitchen with minimal equipment and no window. May be just during my stay, but full of religious zealots (Muslim and Evangelical) who accosted me. On 3 mornings I had to wake the receptionist around 8.30 to beg for a bog roll. Only reason for 2 points is that the cleaner was really thorough. You get what you pay for, which is very little specially since no maintenance to facilities has been done since opening 15 years ago.

Then at night, in the bed above me, there was a guy who had turned off the sound on his cell phone, but had the flashing light on. Every time one of the many short messages came on, I woke up again. The next day, the Muslim fanatics, of which I had two in the apartment, became really disgusting. They were in a bad mood because they were observing Ramadan and they were bothered by the fact that I had drunk a bottle of red wine with a young boy who spoke good English. The 19-year-old, traumatized boy, probably bullied at school as the Fat Kid, had to wait three days before flying to England to study.

The bazaar was nearby and a hairdresser almost hijacked me off the street. I didn’t regret it, for € 1.70 I got a perfect brush cut in seven minutes. I haven’t looked this good in a long time. Buying a SIM card wasn’t a problem, but registering it was, because you absolutely need a Kazakh ID number for that to do it online. Since I was staying only a few days, I didn’t bother to get it activated at a Kazakh Telekom office. Unfortunately, the “residents only” problem continued. The entire bus ticketing system has been converted to mobile payment. This requires a local bank account and ID again. Prepaid cards are also available in a few places. The receptionist sold me one of hers for twice the price, but the problem remained with topping up the credit. There are only a few machines in the center and there’s no guarantee that they’ll work. Three nice Indian medical students explained it to me and even took the time to drive me to a doctor three stops away. Thank you.
Until I solved this little problem, I spent two days walking through the sprawling city, which isn’t exactly known for its clean air. As mentioned, I wanted to lose weight anyway.

Impressions of Astana

Astana in April 2024 

Museums of Astana 

Above are the buildings of the three museums I visited . The National Museum is new and large, but there’s little old in it. The Presidential Center, now without Nazarbayev, is primarily a collection of gifts from foreign potentates, with a small exhibition of modern art. The Military Museum’s interior contains mainly historical oil paintings of legendary khans. I found the Soviet hardware on the grounds to be considerably more tangible.

» Plenty of pictures of Art in Museums of Astana

“Tractor driver,” 1984.

Pawlodar

Pavlodar train station: new benches, all with USB charging plugs between the seats – the only problem is that they are not connected to power 

I arrived early in the morning, gave my luggage into storage and went off for a walk through the city. A first break – the breakfast shops weren’t open yet – I headed to the small park commemorating the soldiers killed in Afghanistan. Small, black steles bearing pictures of the fallen stand tastefully along the sides. Not unusual for the former Soviet Union. At the far end, there’s a memorial. While I'm taking photos, a woman walking her dog is surprised. Three words exchanged: German? “Ah, Gitler kapputt.” She then meets up with her friend; the two of them, along with their dog, who smells my bag with snacks and keeps coming back, walk up and down the short park at least ten times. It soon becomes annoying, but no offense intended.