|
|
|
|
Central Asia by Rail
When you think of train travel in Russia, you think of luxury, great scenery and Silver Star service. And in most places this is correct, that is, in Russia itself. However when you start creeping away from Moscow, the state of the rail system starts to deteriorate, just like the under-funded Russian Economy. My travel companion and I were outbound from Moscow, enroute to the city of Tashkent, centre of Uzbekistan in central Asia. Leaving the capital we were exposed to a pleasurable journey, an overnight trip, a second class sleeper cabin all to ourselves. Comfortable bunks, good views, food easily obtainable. The scenery was superb, mainly forest lands and pasture to Samara, then hugging the mighty Volga river toward the endless steppes. After Samara the train headed east to Orenburg, a medium sized city near the Kazak frontier. We had been given a 3pm arrival time, followed by a 4pm departure. Enough time to pick up some food and beverage for the long haul ahead. Russian trains were most reliable…I hoped!The train sped on with much distance still remaining and diminishing time. We finally made Orenburg at 4pm, pulling in to the station to see our next train ready to depart! Rushing from the train we headed to the opposite platform, forgetting in the rush, that we had no food. No time to shop. On the other side, to my disbelief it was the scene from a 3rd world country. The Tashkenta, far beyond its use by date, was a piece of junk on tracks, covered with graffiti, rust and in need of some paint. Hordes of people were pushing their way onto the train, passing bags through windows, a chaotic stream of humanity. Checking our ticket we pushed our way to our carriage. Hoping it might be in better condition, I was sadly disappointed, the same as the rest. We pushed our way up the steps, into a sea of people, mindlessly moving in all directions. Accidentally missing our cabin, we turned back, against the flow. Bad mistake! We had to mow down a stack of people to find our place; which was already fill of people. We had expected a 4 berth sleeper, with a door, but were presented with an open 6 berther. Stashing our gear, we hauled ourselves onto our bunks, as the train moved off. Depressingly I looked around the cabin; people were everywhere including at least 2 others sleeping in the luggage racks! With a combination of sign language and a vague knowledge of Russ/Ukrainian we were able to communicate with our cellmates. As the evening passed we checked our food inventory. For a 3-day trip we had between us 4 muesli bars, 6 packets of chewing gum, 2 packets of glucose tablets and a couple bottles of drink! Great, I’ll lose some weight at least, I thought!! After a long hard nights sleep we awoke and shared our measly rations. The scenery had changed to more desert than steppe. Extremely boring with miles of sand, punctuated by the odd bluff or maybe a herd of camels. The train would stop briefly at regular intervals, where we were able to restock our water and get some food, if only we had some local tenge currency. No currency exchange here, traveller’s cheques, yeah right! At one stop in Aralsk, I sadly looked upon the shallow ponds of remnants of the former Aral Sea, of which this town was once a port. Now over 40km from the nearest coast, the desert hauntingly filled with decaying ships, this was a depressing reminder of the environmental damage caused by man. To think that within a generation, locals will a lake once the size of the Britain disappear forever. The boring landscape continued, as did the heat. The train was fitted with the smallest windows and no ventilation either. One afternoon I walked the length of the train over 15 cars in all, sidestepping people sleeping on the floor, cigarette salesman, and the diabolical smell from the rancid toilets to find there was no restaurant car, and even if there was I wouldn’t eat from it! Our supplies finally exhausted we shared some food with our new friends and were able to pick up some small apples from a town vendor. Peter bought a local drink called koumiss, made from fermented mare’s milk; I took one swig and felt as ill as it sounded! The lack of decent food was causing me no end of pain, stomach cramps that had me praying for God’s help, but predictably getting nothing in return. Thinking of prisoners that have hunger strikes, I thought, ‘for this it isn't worth the effort’! As the hours toward our arrival quickly went by, I was greeted with the superb view of the Tien Shan range in the distance. A great sight of the mighty ranges and a reassurance that we were near home. Promptly we arrived only to be subjected to police and customs interest. "No body comes to Tashkent! By train are you crazy?!" |