Ever since late October Christmas had been on my mind. I was apprehensive about it. I thought it might be the event that finally pushed me to feel properly homesick. I was expecting to feel sad. As it got to mid-December I had stopped thinking about it so much, being preoccupied with navigating Kazakhstan and all of the new experiences. I had several options on where to stay for Christmas and I was struggling to decide what I wanted to do - staying with a host through the facebook page ‘Host a Sister’ (a really lovely community of female travellers), a host through couchsurfing, or a hostel. After talking it through with a friend over the phone I realised what I wanted - to have my own space to have the Christmas I wanted, so a hostel it was!
Kazakhstan doesn’t celebrate Christmas. The majority religion is Islam, followed by Orthodox Christianity (which celebrates Christmas on the 7th January). As in all post-Soviet countries, any Christmas celebrations were crushed and the focus was moved to New Year instead. Despite this, there were a huge number of Christmas decorations around the city, including several Christmas trees (dubbed ‘New Year’s trees’).
A day of preparations! I did a Christmas food shop and treated myself to all sorts of goodies like lobster flavoured crisps and Ferrero Rocher. But my main mission was buying ingredients for a dessert. I had moved into a hostel this morning and it didn’t have an oven, only hobs, so my original plan of making brownies was scrapped and replaced with rocky roads. Back at the hostel I listened to Christmas music as I baked, having a wonderful time. The Irish couple I’d met back in Georgia were also in Almaty for Christmas and we had arranged to meet for a Christmas Eve dinner, deciding on a highly rated Indian restaurant. It was really lovely to catch up with them and compare our Kazakh experiences, and the Indian food was delicious. We spoke about what we’d usually be doing on Christmas Eve, and how we felt about spending it away from home. We met up with some others from my hostel for a pint at a bar and I was finally starting to feel a little bit Christmassy.
I woke up in my hostel dorm bed and smiled to myself - what an odd place to spend Christmas. I didn’t feel very Christmassy, but I didn’t feel sad so that’s something. I did some yoga in the common space, with the hostel kitten joining in providing a very cute start to the day. I went for a snowy walk in the park nearby, listening to more Christmas music, and then to a nice cafe for a coffee and pistachio croissant for breakfast. At home we always have croissants for breakfast at Christmas, so it was a nod to that tradition. It was strange to not wish the barista ‘Merry Christmas!’ and for her to not wish it to me. I read my book and journaled whilst I savoured my coffee, feeling really thankful for the opportunity to create a lovely Christmas day for myself. As I got up to leave the cafe, the barista placed a drawing of me on my table. It brought some Christmas magic to the day, and brought a huge smile to my face. I slipped the picture into my bag and strolled out onto the snowy streets feeling excited for the rest of the day. Back at the hostel I took my time getting dressed up like I usually would on Christmas day. Through a very tangential link, I had been put in contact with someone who was studying a masters in Almaty, and she had invited me along to her friends’ Christmas lunch. It was really wonderful and a whole lot of fun. It was a big group of masters and PhD students (and one erasmus student from Oxford, you can never truly escape it seems!) from the UK, Ireland and the US. Tara (the host) cooked up an amazing meal: beef wellington, roast potatoes, stuffing, gravy, the lot! We polished off numerous bottles of Soviet champagne and wine. My rocky roads went down a treat, alongside a huge spread of other desserts. The party continued until midnight and whilst it lacked trivial pursuit and cold turkey sandwiches, it was a very pleasant way to spend Christmas day and I was shocked at my luck to have found this group of people! Back at the hostel, I had a quick call with my family (them being 6 hours behind meant they were still enjoying their Christmas evening) and it was lovely to at least virtually see their faces.
It was a Christmas day of two halves. The first half I spent alone, really enjoying spending the day in my own company and appreciating the unusual slow and quietness of the day. The second half I spent surrounded by new friends, celebrating in the usual way. It was the most perfect Christmas Day away from home, and I feel so lucky it turned out that way! Just more proof that everything really does work out in the end.
It turns out that Christmas lunch was the just beginning of lots of adventures with this new group of people. I woke up the earliest I have ever woken up on Boxing day ready to meet some of them for a day of skiing at the nearby ski resort - Shymbulak. It’s only a 30 minute bus ride from the city which is so cool. We arrived at 9am and hired all of the kit, catching the gondola up to the resort. What followed was a full day of amazing fun. I’d never skied before so the day also included a lot of falling over for me, but that didn’t detract from the fun for a second. Even when I was being dragged along by one leg by one of the strange ski lifts, unable to unhook myself for quite some distance… The weather was ideal, bright sun and blue sky. As much as I love the traditional Boxing Day walk back at home, I might have to say that this was an even better way to spend the day! Exhausted from the full day on the slopes, we went out to a Georgian restaurant for dinner and the familiarity of the food brought back so many fond memories. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was. It was one of the best days of my trip.
Fast forward a week and it’s New Year’s Eve! I’m still in Almaty, having being persuaded to stay by the lovely people from Christmas. I was staying with Oksana (thank you again!) and she decided to host a Russian NYE feast. I’ve been missing cooking so I was very happy to help. The entire afternoon was spent boiling every vegetable imaginable, then chopping them up, the basics of all Russian cooking it seems. Everyone seemed to enjoy the food so I’d say it was a success, and the Irish couple also joined which was great! At midnight we watched the Kazakh countdown and did both the Spanish (one of the guests was Spanish) and Russian traditions, making it a very stressful last 12 seconds of 2022. The Spanish tradition is to eat one grape for each of the last 12 seconds, and the Russian is to write a wish on a piece of paper (if you have very keen eyes you might be able to make out mine and Teresa’s wishes from the photo), burn it at midnight and place the burning paper into your champagne and drink the ashes. We forgot to factor in the fact that we were drinking from plastic cups however, so it was a bit of a disaster… But we made it to the new year - so happy 2023 everyone! We went out to a nightclub and were shocked to find it had snowed heavily whilst we’d been eating, so there was now around 20cm of snow on the ground. It was beautiful. We marched through this to the club, and I had my first taste of Kazakh clubbing. It’s the same as clubbing anywhere else, but with more russian music.
I can’t believe it’s 2023. The year I start my job as a lawyer (finally!). But that’s still 8 months away, with a lot more travelling in between. I didn’t think about making any New Year’s resolutions this year, but as I write this I think I will make one. To be more present. To appreciate each day and not worry about the next. I can feel the time flying by and I know I’ll be flying back to England before I know it, so I really want to enjoy the time I have left travelling whilst I’m out here! Something about the holidays has made me want to be extra mushy and say that I’m so thankful for all of my friends (old and new) and the effort they have put into staying in contact. Being away from them has made me appreciate all of them so much. I hope all of them have an amazing 2023 and I can’t wait to see everyone again this year!
No one is more surprised than me that I didn’t feel homesick over the Christmas period! I guess having no expectations about how the day would go, and being happy to just make it a nice day spent alone, might have helped. However, waking up hungover on New Year’s day did see me a tad homesick. My family were in Cornwall, swimming in the sea and walking along empty windy beaches - my absolute favourite thing to do in the winter. I wanted to be doing it with them. I missed getting soaked and cold and sheltering in a pub, drinking a pint of ale, eating a packet of crisps, and defrosting by the open fire. I missed hurrying around seeing friends before we all went our separate ways again. Once my hangover had worn off a bit, and I’d done some yoga and gone for a snowy walk and drank a nice coffee, I’m happy to say the homesickness had vanished. I’m glad I had one morning with its presence. It means the return back home in 7 months’ time won’t be all sad!
The people
Kazakh people are without a doubt the most friendly, happy and kind people I’ve met so far. People walk around smiling. People will go above and beyond to help you, and in a way where you never feel like they have an ulterior motive. I would return to Kazakhstan just to spend more time with Kazakh people.
The scenery
Not quite as desolate as I thought! The steppe is enormous in it’s bleakness, and this is something you really appreciate when travelling across it by train. But beyond the steppe there are a lot of natural features. There are pine forests, mountains, lakes, canyons. It would be worth visiting in spring to see the tulip fields, the rare birds and the greenness of it all.
The food
One word: oily. Everything is so oily here, and it did not sit well with my stomach. Ever since the disastrous experience in Albania my stomach hasn’t been quite right (a whole lot of bloating, fun) but Kazakhstan is the first time I’ve had more serious issues… Even the rice here is oily! Meals are basically meat (sometimes horse) with rice or broth or dumplings. Not a big fan. In Almaty there is a lot of Uighur cuisine, such as laghman (a noodle based dish), and also Korean cuisine. But I won’t lie, I thoroughly enjoyed the international cuisine on offer in Almaty!
The vibe
I’m so baffled by Kazakhstan. It seems to have lost its identity, making it impossible to get a clear impression from it in a short time. I couldn’t sum it up in one sentence, and I wouldn’t even know where to start in trying to describe it. It’s not the easiest country to visit. Hardly anyone speaks english, it lacks tourism infrastructure, it’s cold. To the ordinary person I’m not sure I would recommend visiting. Beyond the wonderful people, it doesn’t really have any other draws.
The religion aspect is interesting in Kazakhstan. It’s a muslim country in the same way that the UK is a christian country - in name and general belief but not really in practice. Women do not cover their hair, people drink and smoke, people do not go to mosque. But pork isn’t eaten and muslim holidays are observed. It was really refreshing to experience a relaxed muslim country, especially after the impressions I got from the very strict muslim areas of Turkey. But part of the reason for this relaxed approach isn’t pleasant of course, with it being from the ban of religion under the Soviet Union.
The cold
After the fear people were giving me, I was almost annoyed at how fine the cold was here. The coldest it got for me was -15 degrees, but this was first thing in the morning and it had warmed up to -9 by the time I was out and about. Even at the minus temperatures it was totally fine! The cold is a dry cold, which is different from England’s wet cold I’ve discovered. Yes it is a lot colder, and you can feel that when you’re outside, but it doesn’t make you as cold as when in England. The coldness doesn’t seep into your bones in the same way. I’d be quite toasty warm even after hours outside, but any exposed body part would really feel the cold. My eyelashes would feel icey against my face as I blinked. Breathing in, you could feel how cold the air was in your lungs. But it was perfectly manageable!
I flew from Tbilisi to Aktau on the 13th December. I knew I wanted to spend Christmas in Almaty so that gave me around 10 days to travel across the entire width of Kazakhstan. I decided not to venture up to the north, mainly because the only thing up there is Astana which doesn’t seem like anything special and it’s -30 degrees celsius. Here’s how I chose to spend those 10 days instead.
Route:
Aktau
This is the town I should’ve arrived into by boat from Azerbaijan. Instead, I arrived at 3am after my flight was delayed by 6 hours (!!!). Just another reason not to fly. I had one day to spend here before my overnight train to Aralsk. The town was quite nondescript so I walked down to the shoreline of the Caspian sea. It was surprisingly beautiful. There was ice all over the rocks and the water was clear. I strolled along the newly built boardwalk and enjoyed how happy all of the other boardwalk users were. I went down to one little beach and had a paddle, in homage to the Caspian sea that I should have sailed across, and because I knew I wouldn’t be near the sea again for months. I wished I’d brought my swimming stuff, but after having my feet in the water for a few minutes I was slightly glad I didn’t…
Aralsk
There’s already a full blog post on my time in Aralsk so check that out to read about the Aral Sea and the delightful brothel I stayed in.
Turkistan
What a weird city. After the dump that was Aralsk it was a huge shock to walk around this ultra modern and well maintained city centre. There was a huge shopping complex complete with a lake and boat water feature, an 8D cinema inside of a golden egg, and hidden speakers playing upbeat turkish sounding music. It was also completely empty. Most of the shop fronts were empty and there was hardly anyone around, giving it a ghostly feel. Across the flat, open centre was the reason I’d come to Turkistan, the Mausoleum of Khoja Ahmed Yasawi. It was my first taste of Silk Road architecture and it was beautiful. I loved the plainness of the front with its cement looking wall and beams of wood protruding from the arch. The bright blue mosaics covering the other three sides were of course breathtaking. And the dome, only visible when you were further away from it, was a delightful surprise. The inside was less exciting. I spent most of my two days here sitting in the sun and reading my book, always with a view of the Mausoleum. I remembered I had a tripod with me and put it to good use, having a bit too much fun taking some photos with the mosaic as a backdrop. I had a nice interaction with two young waitresses in one restaurant, who were very excited that I was from England and travelling alone as a woman. A third waitress jumped in front of me as I was leaving, blocking the exit and almost tackling me in doing so, so she could also speak to me and shake my hand!
Shymkent
Shymkent provided the in between vibe of Aralsk and Turkistan. It was a city but it was a bit of a dump too. I stayed with a lovely lady and her family from couchsurfing, enjoying homemade Kazakh cooking (meat and rice, or meat in broth… I miss Georgian food). I didn’t like Shymkent. I visited the botanical gardens, the ‘old’ town (it’s been renovated to give it a fake disneyland vibe, similar to the strange shopping centre in Turkistan), the soviet occupation museum (nothing in english) and just wandered around. There’s a strange mixture of modern areas, soviet monuments, and dirt roads with dilapidated buildings.
Aksu-Zhabagley national park
From Shymkent I somehow managed to get myself to the Aksu-Zhabagley national park. I contacted a guesthouse in the town of Zhabagley and the owner gave me very detailed and helpful instructions on how to get there. But of course it wasn’t as simple as it seemed. I got a taxi to the marshrutka station but it became apparent that there was not a marshrutka going to where I needed to go. Luckily, everyone was very keen to help me! One man drove me, for free, to a place where I could get a shared taxi to where I needed to go, and he arranged a place for me. The shared taxi cost 1000 tenge (£1.80 - so cheap!) and it took 1.5 hours to reach village number one (Vannovka). After asking around I eventually found the next shared taxi to Zhabagley, my final destination. Both cars were dumps and I’m surprised we made it but I did! I didn’t arrive until 12pm and it was too late to do my planned activity for the national park, so the owner organised it for tomorrow instead and I spent the rest of the day curled up on the guesthouse sofa doing some travel planning and reading, watching the snow fall outside. The owner of the guesthouse was very interesting. He was a Ukrainian biologist specialising in birds and was a scientist during the Soviet Union. He was sent to Turkmenistan to study waterfall birds and remained there for most of his life. He said being a scientist in the Soviet Union was pretty good - he was paid well, there was good collaboration between the Soviet states, and he got to go to interesting conferences held across the Soviet Union. He showed me a lot of photos he’d taken of birds, and his photography set up in the garden, complete with a camouflage tent.
My planned activity was, very excitingly, a horse trek. The guide brought the horses to the guesthouse and we set off a bit past 10am. It was just the two of us which was a very peaceful experience. The trek began with a boring stretch of road into the national park, but once inside it was stunning. We were trekking along little paths covered in snow. We went over little rivers, and through big snow drifts (this was my favourite part). We had all of the weather - snow falling with grey sky, everywhere white and grey; blue sky and sun brightening up the white landscape; and everything in between. We trekked until about 1pm, stopping at a little house. We gave the horses some lunch and walked on foot a short distance to a viewpoint of a waterfall. The water appeared and disappeared behind an ice wall. The scenery was stunning and the atmosphere was so peaceful. We ate lunch in the little house (cold pasta and peppers and sausage, bread, and gross chocolate. Washed down with tea). I took my boots off and rubbed my toes to get some feeling back in them. After several hours in the cold I was surprised that they were the only part of me that was cold! But they were very very cold. We trekked back the same way. Thankfully the view of the mountains surrounding us, the valley on one side, the hills we passed over, and the bushes covered in snow meant the scenery could never be boring. We took a short cut to skip some of the road when we were almost back, crossing through thick snow in a field instead. At 4:30pm we arrived back, I was shocked that so much time had passed, it had gone so quickly! I patted the horse goodbye and, with my completely numb and freezing feet, waddled inside to warm up.
Almaty
Almaty provided a breath of normality. After my interesting night in the anti-war Russian shelter (see my train blog post for details) I spent a few nights in a hostel where there were other travellers! I spent Christmas and New year’s here, but there’s a separate post on that. The city of Almaty felt much like a normal city - big streets, lots of shops and restaurants, lots of parks. I did very normal things here - went out for coffee and pints with people, went to people’s houses to watch a film with a takeaway, did some baking. I also did less normal things, taking advantage of the opportunities that winter in Almaty offered, like ice skating on the biggest, highest ice rink in the world. Whilst I was disappointed to discover my rollerskating skills did not translate onto ice, I was very happy to see the mountain backdrop of the huge Soviet ice rink. I also tried out skiing for the first time at the nearby ski resort, Shymbulak, which is only a 30 minute bus ride away from the city. As a much cheaper alternative to European skiing (the day pass cost £20) it was the perfect place for me to try it out. I enjoyed it even more than I thought I would! The whole experience was wonderful and I went a second time before I left, even managing a proper slope. After my initial time at the hostel, I moved to staying with the friends I made at Christmas which was so lovely. As they were a group of masters students, I really felt like I was back in London as a student. They were all styding post-soviet studies, which was ideal for me, meaning I finally found people who were as interested in talking about the USSR as I am (perhaps even more so)! It provided a little bit of contrast to travelling and was really quite nice. I’ve had the most amazing time with this new group of people, and want to give a shoutout to Teresa, Lucie, Oksana, Tara and Ari for making it so amazing (and also the guys!).
Almaty provides a great base for exploring the surrounding area too, allowing me to go even further east to Kolsai lake and Charyn Canyon. I did this on a day trip with a local tour company. The lake was frozen over and we could walk on it, going to see the ice fisherman. We stopped at several different points along the canyon and it was quite pretty, but it didn’t blow my mind too much. I definitely preferred the lake, and also the drive to the lake which was across the steppe, with snowy mountains acting as a boundary around it.
I had one more interesting experience in Almaty, which was going to speak at a Kazakh school. A guy contacted me through couchsurfing asking if I would come and speak to his students and I agreed. I was picked up in a taxi and driven 45 minutes outside of the city to a small village. I spent two hours with around 10 students ranging from 13 - 17 years old and it was a very casual conversation style talk. I introduced myself and then answered their questions on a huge variety of topics. They asked me about England, about travelling, about university, about my impressions of Kazakhstan. They asked me about the gender differences and dating in England, about my views on bride kidnapping in Kyrgyzstan, about the Russian-Ukrainian war. I asked them about their relationship with the Kazakh language, about how they view Kazakhstan, and how they feel about me only speaking one language. It was an enriching experience for all of us! They gave me some Kazakh food to try, including both horse and camel milk. Both were terrible, but the horse milk was definitely worse. They also gave me a gift of a traditional Kazakh hat which was very lovely!
The first hurdle to using Kazakh trains was trying to book one. This proved unbelievably difficult. But this is what travelling is about, having to expend a huge amount of time and energy and problem solving ability to do a seemingly simple task. And I kind of love it. So the train ticket fiasco. All of the travel blogs gave me huge optimism, you could book online using a website with a great english interface! I agreed, the interface was great, but it kept declining my card. I tried all 5 of my bank cards (yes I’m slightly over-prepared on that front, but the number of people I’ve met who’ve lost their one and only bank card makes me feel like it’s justified) and all were declined. I got out my russian google translate skills and started the most painful whatsapp conversation with the customer service number. After a week of back and forth they eventually informed me that the website doesn’t support foreign cards. Giving up on this website I turned to the Kazakhstan official train website. It had an english option but when I searched for the train I wanted (and knew existed from the other website) it drew a blank. After some more googling I saw that although the website is in english, you still had to search in russian. Back to google translate, but still no results! I was losing the will to live at this point. I couldn’t even moan to anyone because this was during the silent retreat… Then I remembered that in the nice english website the train station that came up when I searched the place name wasn’t the same as the place name itself. More googling and I realised that lots of train stations in Kazakhstan do not have the same name as the place, but instead have kept the original soviet name the place used to be called, or something completely different. Finally an answer - I had to research the old name of the towns and translate this to russian then bingo! At last the train came up and I was able to book it. Now I’m building a bank of Kazakh train station names in russian so if anyone needs these you know who to contact.
After continuing my train research I saw that the older style soviet trains did not have a dining car or any food available on board. What they did have was a samovar which dispensed hot water. Everyone therefore recommended bringing along a bowl and mug, and instant noodles and tea etc. After a big hunt in Tbilisi I was able to find the perfect bowl/mug hybrid (a big coffee cup style thing) and a stole a spoon from the hostel (don’t tell anyone). I bought instant noodles and instant porridge and tea. I was feeling very prepared!
My first train was of the modern high-speed variety, a Talgo. I bought the cheapest ticket which was a bed in a 4-bed cabin. The train was very quiet so I had the entire cabin to myself which was wonderful! I settled in for a peaceful evening of writing, reading, watching netflix on my phone and enjoying my instant noodles. On exploring the train I found this one did have a dining cart, and a rather fancy one at that! It also had cold water as well as hot. In the morning I even had enough space in my little cabin to do some stretches before enjoying my porridge. I felt a bit motion sick in the evening, but other than that it was a very enjoyable ride.
Journey: From Aktau to Aralsk
Time: 18 hours
My second train was of the older, slower, soviet variety. I again bought the cheapest ticket, this time a bed in a 40-bed carriage. When I stepped on the train I was hit by a wall of chicken smelling steam, and a grease film immediately formed over my entire body. Ventilation was definitely lacking. At least it was warm. But a bit too warm for my liking! As I ‘excused me’ down the narrow space between beds, hitting bare feet with my rucksack with each step, I felt the eyes on me. When I reached my bed I smiled at the man in the top bunk next to mine, and he looked curiously at me, before breaking into a smile and being insanely friendly and helpful. He helped me put my bag up on the shelf above my top bunk, and with all of my other questions (where did I get the sheets etc). Soon enough our bunk mates had returned and suddenly we were all being introduced. So many smiles! Word travelled down the carriage that I was a tourist and lots of other men came to say hello (it seemed to be 99% men on this train). I felt so looked after. The men snuck me some of their contraband beer, with us hiding it after every sip. They gave me their sandals to wear as I walked along the train to get hot water or go to the toilet. They offered me some of their chewing tobacco. When we stopped for longer at one station they took me outside with them to smoke. They laughed at my amazement of a coal cart being used to top up the coal on the train, used to heat the carriages. We spoke over google translate and gestures, and they asked me all sorts of questions. From if I was married, about my family, if I was an MI6 agent… The usual stuff! I asked them about their main language (Kazakh and not russian), their religion (muslim) and make up of Kazakhstan (Turkish and Mongolian history). They all wanted photos with me, to prove to their families that they really had met an english girl on the train. It was all very entertaining! And took my mind off of the horrible conditions of the train. The grease layer had become several layers at this point. When I finally got into my top bunk (with a leg up from one of the men) I realised I couldn’t sit up in it, so had to slide myself into a sleeping position. I slept very badly. Unsurprising with the intense heat and the grease, the man playing candy crush on loud next to me, the chorus of men snoring in the carriage, the occasional opening of the window by my head which provided much needed fresh air but also froze my scalp giving the strangest sensation of wind brain freeze whilst the rest of me sweated. When my alarm went off in the morning I welcomed it. I bid goodbye to my new friends and clambered back down the tiny corridor and off the train.
Journey: Aralsk to Turkistan
Time: 14 hours
This more modern soviet train had cabins rather than an open carriage filled with beds. I chose the cheapest ticket of course, and this provided a bed in a 6-bed cabin. How do they fit 6 beds in a cabin you ask? Triple bunks! I was on the middle bunk which was a new experience after all of my top and bottom bunk sleeps in the hundreds of hostels I’ve now stayed in. The conditions were much more pleasant than on the last train. A normal temperature, no chicken grease in the air. My cabin mates were two Russians, one of which was an english translator (how lucky!), and a Kazakh guy. A Kazakh woman joined us later on after spending most of her time in the train bar, so she was quite drunk. We spoke until late into the night, with the usual questions and surprise over my trip. I tried lots more Kazakh snacks, including Kazakh chocolate, and it was a really pleasant night. I also slept really well. The two Russians were travelling to Almaty to do a visa run, planning to nip across the border to Kyrgyzstan then return back to Kazakhstan. They were going to stay at a house in Almaty which was a shelter for anti-war Russians, providing them with free accommodation and a safe space. They invited me to join them, after checking it was allowed with the administrator of the shelter, and I accepted thinking it would be a very interesting experience.
Journey: Shymkent to Almaty
Time: 15 hours
We arrived at the big house with tight security and were given a tour. Upstairs there were several rooms with lots of airbeds set up. Downstairs there was a large dining room and kitchen, and another large lounge room. There were 24 people staying there, including some children. Everyone was Russian (obviously) and was very confused at what I was doing there (also unsurprising). Not many people spoke English so I felt a bit awkward at first. But once word spread that there was an english person in the kitchen, the people that spoke english appeared! And everyone was very friendly and lovely, they made me lunch and we chatted all afternoon and evening about the situation in Russia and the war. I learnt so much and felt so privileged for being able to travel at this time. The people here varied in age, but I was surprised at how many were my age or younger. One of the people who spoke english was Nastia, a 20 year old girl from Moscow. She had left Russia after being arrested and tortured for taking part in an anti-war walk (they don’t refer to them as protests). There’s a BBC documentary on her and the other women involved called Finding My Torturer. The situation in Russia currently is of course insane, and it was very interesting to hear these people’s views on it. My opinion on the Russian invasion of Ukraine is uncomplicated - it is completely wrong and there are no excuses or good reasons for it. My opinion on Russian people is more complicated, but the conversations I had here made me have even less sympathy for neutral or pro-war Russian people who have left Russia.
I only stayed here for one night, deciding to move to a hostel in the city centre for Christmas Eve and Christmas.
As I journey from the very West to the very East of the enormous country that is Kazakhstan, I made my first stop in an old harbour town on the Aral Sea. This name might be familiar to you from a geography lesson back in your youth. It’s the lake in the middle of Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan which almost completely dried up in one of the world’s worst man made environmental disasters.
What happened to the Aral Sea?
The Aral Sea was the fourth largest lake in the world. Under Stalin’s five-year plans, the two major rivers which fed the Aral Sea were diverted for irrigation for cotton farming. The Soviet plan was to make Central Asia the biggest producer of cotton in the world, which Uzbekistan became in 1988. Experts foresaw that doing this would cause the Aral Sea to disappear, but none wanted to speak against the plans. As expected, in the 1960s the two rivers dried up before reaching the Aral Sea, meaning the water it lost to evaporation as part of the natural water-cycle was not replenished. It was reduced to 10% of its original size.
The consequences of this:
There is some restoration work happening which is having some success. For example the Dike Kokaral Dam on the Kazakhstan side.
My experience
I walked a short distance from the town to explore the sea bed. It was immense in its desolation. It looked like a wasteland. The only hints that something else once filled the area were the salty smell of the air and, if you looked closely, the shells covering the ground. I reached the mouth of the old harbour, and the wreckage of a barge. Only the very bottom was left and it was filled with frozen water and rubbish. Behind it I could see the old cranes that used to work in the fishing port, still standing on the edge of the past water line. In the other direction there was nothing. A deeper channel, I assume where boats would enter the harbour broke up the otherwise homogenous landscape. It was frozen so there must’ve been some water left there. I walked along the channel, my face covered with my snood to fight against the smell as much as the cold. I spotted a herd of camels roaming around. I was so excited to visit here, but the excitement had died down. It was just sad. To think about this huge area once being a sea, filled with fish and life. To think about the human actions that directly, and knowingly, led to its demise. To think about this happening elsewhere in the world due to climate change. Looking back at the town, it was sad to think about its fate. It was once a prosperous fishing town. Now it had nothing. Most people had left when the fishing industry collapsed. The ones that are still here face all of the awful health issues I mentioned above. I’m really glad I came to visit. It’s something that will stick with me forever. The power that humans have over our natural environment and the lives of others.
Beyond the dried up sea Aralsk didn’t have much to offer. There was a museum, but it was closed. The town wasn’t quite as awful as I’d prepared myself for. The houses were all one storey and shabby but they were colourful. Most of the roads were dirt but it was very clean, no litter. In the train station there was a soviet mosaic which excited my soviet-history side. It depicted the fisherman of Aralsk coming to the rescue on Lenin’s orders and sending fish north to save the famished Soviet Union. What a lovely thing the soviets did to repay them, drying up the lake like they did.
I didn’t have many interactions with locals during my short stay here. I really wish I spoke russian so I could’ve attempted to ask them about their thoughts on it all. The only interactions I did have were locals stopping in their cars as I walked along the dried up harbour to (I assume from the gestures) ask what on earth I was doing, and to offer me a lift if I needed it. I replied with gestures that I hoped communicated ‘just looking around’ and ‘taking photos’ and they seemed quite bemused.
Logistics
It was very easy to get to Aralsk, the old harbour town and the main place to visit the Aral Sea in Kazakhstan. I caught a high-speed, 18 hour night train from Aktau. Before arriving here I’d emailed a man called Serik about it, as I found his email online as a helpful contact in the area. He told me that there was a hotel near the train station that I didn’t need to book in advance and offered me a tour of the Aral Sea. The tour was way too expensive for me (around £150 for the day) so I turned him down, planning to explore alone instead. When I got off the train I spotted the hotel he mentioned, but it was closed. Luckily there was one right opposite so I went over and asked about a room. The lady behind reception didn’t speak english but with google translate she quoted me the price for one day. I nodded in agreement, saying yep just one night. She looked confused and asked when I’d be leaving. I replied with tomorrow’s date and she went ‘ah’ overnight, and quoted me a different price. It was still cheap so I agreed, wondering why on earth I’d only want the room during the day. Then it dawned on me - brothel. I had seen in some hotel reviews here that people had experienced the same. Never mind, the room was fine, very spacious but not very clean. I was happy I had my sleeping bag to use! In the evening my suspicions deepened as there was a lot of activity in the hallway, lots of footsteps coming up the stairs and knocks on doors. On one occasion someone tried to enter my room but I just ignored it. I can’t say I felt very happy there but I slept fine and it was only for one night. The restaurants weren’t plentiful but the one I ate in was fine, food was cheap and fairly tasty. The toilet was horrendous however. Definitely not the nicest place to visit, but I didn’t think it would be!
It’s finally time to cross into the ‘stans and I thought I’d catch you up on how the planning for that has gone. Lots of people have been asking me how I feel about it, so I’ve touched on that too.
Contents:
After deciding I wouldn’t stay in Gomarduli for Christmas it was time to prepare for the ‘stans. The first step was working out how I’d get there. My original plan was to cross into Azerbaijan and take the cargo ship which accepts passengers from Baku to Aktau, Kazakhstan. The big problem was that Azerbaijan still hadn’t opened their land borders, and it didn’t look like they would anytime soon. This meant I was going to have to fly, at least from Georgia to Azerbaijan (so annoying!!!). The big question was whether the land borders being shut affected the cargo ship. I want to illustrate how hard I tried to find this information out: I contacted a total of 18 people/shipping companies/embassies/hostels in Baku to try and get an answer. I pestered 6 contacts on whatsapp; 6 contacts via email; 3 contacts via social media pages; and I posted on 3 reddit and facebook pages. I trawled through hours of blogs and forums. Did I get a clear answer? No. (The title of this section is two quotes from more definitive replies.) From my in depth research my conclusion is that it was possible to cross up until October/November but then they stopped it again, requiring ‘Special State Permission’ which isn’t really possible to get (I couldn’t find even find out where to get it from)! By the end of my hopeless search, I realised a flight directly from Tbilisi to Aktau (where the ship would’ve docked) was actually shorter than a flight from Tbilisi to Baku, and it was cheaper. So I resigned my quest and booked the flight to Aktau. I was disappointed, the cargo ship crossing was one of the things I was most excited about and I was looking forward to the challenge it presented. That’s why I spent so long looking into it, not wanting to give up on the idea. But that’s life, things out of our control happen and there’s nothing we can do about it (I’m looking at you Azerbaijan). And some positives came out of it - I got to visit Armenia and realise I don’t like it, I got to spend longer in Georgia, I didn’t have to visit Azerbaijan. So my overland journey ended sooner than I hoped, but having got to Kazakhstan having only flown for 1 hour is still pretty cool. And maybe I won’t have to fly again… (yeah I’m not too hopeful either, looking at you Afghanistan and Myanmar).
“I’m off to Kazakhstan next”. Look of concern from them. “That’s going to be cold!”. People were starting to freak me out about just how cold it was going to be. One guy warned me to check my shoes for any leaks because if water gets in it would freeze and give me frostbite. I was panicked. Especially because I wasn’t very prepared, I still didn’t have any proper gloves! I should’ve had my parents bring me some from England, like my Dad suggested, but I’d been so sure I would easily find some in Georgia. My Dad was right, like Dads often are, when he doubted this. I hunted all of Tbilisi for a pair of proper mittens and found only giant men’s ones or tiny children’s ones. In a moment of exasperation I did ask one shop assistant if he thought women didn’t have hands when he told me they didn’t stock women’s gloves. Eventually, on my last morning in Tbilisi, I found a pair of junior mittens which just about fitted my hands. Not perfect, but close. I’d hate to know how much time I’ve spent trying to find gloves. I’d managed to find thermal leggings and tights over the last few months, and I found a snood (or buff) and a balaclava in Tbilisi. I felt as prepared as I was going to get for the cold! Where I currently am in Kazakhstan it’s -6 degrees in the day and I’ve been toasty warm in all of my layers. It was -15 in Almaty last week but it seems to be warming up there so hopefully it’ll all be fine… I think the lowest I’ll experience is -20!
I’ve been travelling for over 7 months now, and I’m comfortable and confident when doing it. But there’s something different about heading to places that no one seems to visit. I know I’ll survive and make it through, but I don’t know how enjoyable it will be. That makes me nervous. I’m nervous about the cold, about the language (and alphabet) barrier, about the completely unknown culture, about the lack of other travellers, about actually travelling alone. I know this is completely normal. It’s normal to want easy, enjoyable experiences and to be apprehensive about the opposite. But I’m also really excited about all of the same things. I set out wanting a challenge, wanting to push myself and see exactly how strong and independent I really am. This is where I find that out. And the harder it is, the better in a way. Being nervous about the challenge isn’t a bad thing, because the challenge and the nerves are what this part of the trip is about! So I’m okay - nervous and excited. Ready for the challenge and intrigued to see what this part of the world is like.
Armenia is the first country I’ve visited and not liked. I went with another volunteer from Gomarduli, Vilte from Lithuania, and we had a nice time but the country didn’t do anything for me. I will caveat this opinion by saying winter is not the best time to go to Armenia! But I think even in the summer I wouldn’t like it. After giving it some thought these are the reasons why:
This resulted in my gut feeling of Armenia to be one of dislike. Which I really realised when we returned to Tbilisi and I felt so much happier and in love with my surroundings. I will concede that Armenia has a good reason for most of my points. The fact cities in Turkey felt like Armenian ones are because they were Armenian cities, taken by Turkey in the 1920s after the Armenian Genocide in 1915. And the food is similar, Armenians would argue, because Turkey stole it (but it doesn’t matter either way, it’s still not distinct). Additionally, Armenia has a good reason for people to not be happy. They’re in an active conflict with Azerbaijan and their economy is not doing well. According to a tour guide, lots of people lack the certainty of being able to feed their families. It’s also just had a bit of raw deal in modern times. Horrific genocide in Turkey that was swept under the carpet, then invasion by Turkey, then a war with Azerbaijan, and most recently a revolution which saw the Government being thrown out in 2008. Out of its 4 borders, only 2 are open. So I’m not blaming Armenia for its unlikeableness, just being open about it.
We spent 5 nights in Yerevan (the capital) and 2 nights in Gyumri (the cultural capital).
We tried out couchsurfing for the first time for our first 3 nights here. Couchsurfing is an app where you can get in touch with people about staying with them for free. We stayed with Maria, a lovely 21 year old Armenian girl who lived with her older sister and niece. I was impressed with how easy it was and how enjoyable the experience was, and the additional insight you get into the culture. It was socially quite tiring, because after spending a long day exploring I’d have to then socialise with Maria and her friends when sometimes I just wanted to rest. One funny interaction was when they asked me if I knew where they could sell pictures of themselves (I’m still not sure if they meant that sort of picture or not!). I will definitely use couchsurfing again though! Sadly, despite Maria’s lovely sharing of Armenian culture it wasn’t enough to salvage my opinion. Some things even added to it, for example she told us that anytime she had a job interview she was asked if she was a virgin. Insane! Yerevan was utterly soulless. It had a strange, faux luxurious centre with a big shopping street with fancy shops and fancy restaurants. The other streets were brown and depressing. There was no historic feel. This is because at the end of each era everything from the old one was destroyed, and the whole city centre was newly designed and built in the mid 1900s. The old town has been squeezed to one small corner of the city and it’s more like a slum than an old town, but at least that had some soul. The main structure is the Cascades, basically just some big stairs. There’s no historic meaning behind it, it was just built to link together the Opera theatre and a park. We really struggled to find cheap places to eat that weren’t fast food, there were no cheap little family run Armenian restaurants. The only part of Yerevan I enjoyed was going to the ballet at the Opera theatre one night. We saw Spartacus which was a fun one to watch. The interior of the building was beautiful too. It was a very enjoyable way to spend an evening!
Lake Sevan
We visited Lake Sevan from Yerevan, trying to use public transport to get there. It was a disaster by all accounts. We started by getting a taxi to the marshrutka station and I almost got beaten up by the taxi driver after I accidentally tried to rip him off. He settled for shouting aggressively and kicking us out. At the marshrutka station another taxi driver told us there was no bus going to Lake Sevan and the ticket lady said the same. But Maria and the internet were sure there was so we persevered, with a really lovely Armenian girl helping us out. Eventually we were on a marshrutka going to a different city but stopping at Lake Sevan! Before we got on this, we triple checked there was a marshrutka going from Lake Sevan back to Yerevan. Finally arriving in Lake Sevan felt like a miracle, and it was beautiful. Two churches on the hill and a huge lake. When it came to return it wasn’t a huge surprise to us to find that there was actually no marshrutka heading back to Yerevan from here, it was that sort of day. So we had to get an expensive taxi 10 minutes down the road to Sevan city where we then caught a bus back to Yerevan. Was it worth it? Maybe not. Would like to say a huge thank you to Vilte for paying attention to her russian classes at school because without that it would have been even more of a nightmare! And I am now desperately trying to learn russian ready for the ‘stans.
Monasteries
I went on a day tour to two monasteries and a pagan temple. After the fiasco of visiting Lake Sevan it seemed like the best idea if I wanted to see anywhere outside of the city, and the tour was surprisingly cheap (£22 for a full day)! I did enjoy this, the monasteries were both pretty, especially Geghard Monastery which was cut into a dark rock cliff surrounded by the sides of the gorge. Armenia was the first country to declare Christianity as its religion. The pagan temple looked really cool, and was in a great location, but it’s not actually that old. It was destroyed in an earthquake and rebuilt in soviet times. Khor Virap was the other monastery and is where St Gregory the Illuminator (the guy that brought Christianity to Armenia) was imprisoned for 13 years. Usually there’s a great view of Mount Ararat from here, but alas it was too grey and misty. If you think Mount Ararat sounds familiar you’re right, it’s the same mountain I was next to in Turkey (on the other side of it). It used to be part of Armenia however, and the Armenians are very attached to it, still referring to that part of Turkey as West Armenia. You might also remember that it’s where Noah’s Arc supposedly landed. Well in Armenian, Armenia is called Hayastan, which means ‘Land of Haya’. Haya is Noah’s grandson.
Gyumri was definitely better than Yerevan as it kept its historical buildings, but still unbelievably grey. The buildings are all made from black stone, and some have orange trimmings which looked quite nice. The only things to see are churches and a fortress, which has been converted into a medieval theatre maybe (who knows, there was no information up there!). One church was under construction but when we popped our heads in the construction workers encouraged us to enter. Not exactly a peaceful place to pray! The only enjoyable thing here was the Mariam and Eranuhi Aslamazyan gallery. These were two sisters that were artists during the soviet period and they travelled all over the world, something that was quite unusual for woman in that period. It was very female focused and very empowering. Our guesthouse was quite pleasant here, and we enjoyed watching our first Christmas film of the season one night (Home Alone - Vilte’s favourite)!
Logistics
Easily the best food of the trip so far. Georgian food blew my mind. I’m going to share just five dishes with you, but every single dish was deserving of a blog mention. The cuisine is very distinct, none of the foods were familiar to me from the balkans (only exception being lobio stew but it was quite different) or beyond, and nor were the flavours.
These two are warming and delicious and the perfect comfort food. Flavours are pretty unexciting, but yummy.
Khinkali
Georgia’s national dish so they deserve to be mentioned first. They’re pretty iconic. Dumplings filled with soup and meat and herbs. The meat can be swapped out for mushrooms, or potatoes, or cheese, or cheese and potatoes… You eat them by holding the knot and taking a little bite and then slurping the soup out of them, then eating the rest. If you succeed in not spilling a drop of soup it means you’re a good kisser. My all time favourite khinkali were the fried ones with blue cheese (dambalkhacho) from Cafe Daphna, Tbilisi.
Khachapuri
Georgia’s most ubiquitous dish - bread and cheese. Each region has its own variation and the most famous is the adjarian one (from Batumi in the west). It was also my favourite variation as it was slightly less bread heavy than the others! It’s definitely the most photographic with its boat shape and the egg in the middle. The rest are circles of bread with a cheese filling in between. My all time favourite khachapuri was the one the old lady (Dodo) made for me in Svaneti, but I didn’t actually eat that many of them!
These two showcase the variety and depth of flavours in Georgian cooking.
Ostri
A soupy stew with beef and vegetables and potatoes. When placed in front of you it looks like an unassuming warming stew. But once you take your first spoonful, oh wow. This shows off what Georgian food is really all about, taking cosy Eastern European style food and injecting it with Asian flavours. It’s like eating a Tom Yum soup with its tang and umami flavour and spice, but more tomatoey and full. On a cold day it was perfect, warming you up in every sense.
Kharcho
This is comparable to a curry. A thick sauce over beef or chicken (I had chicken), made from ground up walnuts, tomato puree and spices. The flavours were full of depth and perfectly balanced. A little spicy, so tasty and almost creamy. This was my absolute favourite dish. I had it with Elarji which is a cheesy mash sort of dish, made from cornmeal and Georgian cheese.
I just have to mention this one again…
Svaneti salt on tomatoes
I’ve been thinking about it ever since Dodo served it to me in Svaneti. The flavours from the ‘salt’ blew me away then and they’ve held their own as I’ve enjoyed the rest of Georgia’s delicacies. The dish itself is so simple you can hardly call it a dish, but it’s so delicious I couldn’t write a Georgian food post without mentioning it!
This is the old capital of Georgia. I only spent a morning here but it’s worth mentioning because it is quite pleasant. It’s small, but there are several monasteries and convents to explore, and a cathedral in the middle. The capital was moved to the 15km to Tbilisi for defence reasons.
The new capital and a lot bigger and more exciting than Mtshekta. I really liked Tbilisi, spending about a week here in total. It has lots of different areas to explore, all filled with nice restaurants (that are cheap unlike Yerevan) and cool cafes (like Kvarts coffee where they draw your portrait on the cup!). Along the river Mtkvari there are lots of modern structures, like Peace bridge, which add a contrast to the soviet style buildings in the centre and even more so to the old town. The old town is gorgeous, filled with dilapidated and characterful houses, often very colourful and covered in grapevines. You can feel the life spilling out of the cracks, both literally with the grapevines and metaphorically. I loved exploring it on the walking tour and then by myself afterwards. My other favourite spot was the Queen Darejan Palace where we had the place to ourselves and could enjoy the view of old town and the Mother of Tbilisi (a huge soviet statue on the hill). I also enjoyed the cable car! I spent most of my time in Tbilisi socialising, seeing people for coffee or dinner or drinks. I met up with old volunteers from Gomarduli, people from the hostel, and people I’d been put in touch with from friends of friends! I felt truly at home, popping out for coffee dates and trying out new restaurants.
I really loved Georgia. It is so unique. It has its own language, its own alphabet, its own cuisine, its own truly distinct culture. It has regions which are just as unique, like Svaneti. The people are funny and strange and interesting. The scenery is beautiful. Go to Georgia.
