Nothing out there but trouble

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So many locals in many countries warn us about police corruption.It is a problem around the world but as a cyclist its rare you will run into trouble of this kind.It seems that as you don't own a car then its likely you cant afford one,therefore not worth the hassle of finding an infringement.
Unless of course you come to the Baikonur area out in the Kyzylkum Desert. Baikonur is Russia's NASA(they lease it from Kazakhstan for about $100 million a year).Its the place Yuri Gagarin left from in 1961 to be the first man in space.All this is 30 km from the road,out in the desert and in true soviet style is off limits.As are the surrounding towns of Kazali,Jangaqazali,Baikonur and Josali.
Sorry ,say that last one again!
With no other signs to tell us otherwise and 90 km of sandy desert between us and the launch site we've inadvertently found ourselves at the mercy of PC Corruption and his band of hill billies.Thought it was a bit odd when the old hotel owner asked if we took drugs.
The 'cop' couldn't of arrived quicker if I had of said that.He was a right cocky bastard too.Young fellow,plain clothed,flashed his badge way too quickly. So apparently we are in a restricted region and he wants money to make it all better. To be honest we were more concerned with us not being able to afford the ridiculous 9000T room(45 quid) thus missing the big game than going out to this fools car to 'sort out the problem'.Tati went outside to guard our bikes to make sure he wouldn't 'find' anything in our bags. Meanwhile I asked him for his badge number which he wouldn't give,then I offered him my passport,that he didn't want. We were at a bit of a standstill when his mobile phone rang (the Asian Achilles heel is the mobile phone) I took that as problem solved and we did a fat legger in search of the other hotel,never to see him again.
The other hotel cost 4000T,they have a TV room and hot showers which is a big mark up on most Kazakh hotels,where you really don't get value for money.Ran into a real miserable bugger banging like crazy on the bathroom door,I'd been in there five minutes but whoever this was ,was pretty mad.Fearing the police again I got to the door to be confronted by a fat old angry Kazakh demanding I get out.Was Kazakh hospitality a thing they just made up? Really pissed off with these people right now! I told the guy what I thought of his impatience and he slammed the door in my face.
Well the day got worse as we were asked to go to the police station across the road.The hotel owner here says its a restricted zone and since hes not a cop, we believe him.
The cop was young and wore the big hat that they all wear(its a sun shade ,it must be)He went through our papers,front to back several times,looking perhaps for a lost stamp or missing paper.Its all there.No one knows better than us the hardships of being legal in this bloody country.He ummed and ahhed like a drama queen.I would of loved to of said '' mate ,yes or no, do we leave or do we stay'', right now I couldn't care less about the game,we just want a straight answer.It seems hes waiting for us to pay a bribe.Well it'll be a cold day in Josali before that happens.
He wasn't quite done with us though.He returned later with an interpreter eager to get his point across and score some gringo gold.So it was that with a terrible signal I was watching England leek goals by the bucket load while fending off suggestions from the interpreter on one side for a ''present'' for the cop who sat on the other.
''In my country''I told him ''the police(mostly) are there to protect not to harm"
''I understand'' the interpreter said ''but you have broken Kazakh law''
''Wheres the sign that says so''
''There isn't one''
''Then this is unfair''
''How much do you have''
''Enough to eat, 3000T'' I lied
He confirmed all this with plod and after a short discussion he decided to let it go.They even tried to fix the signal for me.It was all handshakes and smiles in the end.I was grateful for his understanding.It could of been worse.We have to leave first thing in the morning though.
''Oh please let us stay another day''.
No ,its an early night for us as England died on their plastic sword in a haze of black and white static.Roll on 2014 for more half hearted fun and games for the over paid , underachieving lions of leisure and roll on 5AM when we can leave this hell hole.
We cleared out good and early,we even saw some of the launch sites away in the desert near Baikonur. Its an interesting place around Toteram with hundreds of electric pylons heading north into the desert to power the cosmodrome. Luckily for Russia we decided not to sabotage any plans for a second space race and instead spent the midday on the main road at the only cafe reliving England's defeat in glorious techni colour.
With a turn in the road to the west and light traffic we flew along this section of steppe,all the while I searched in vain for a pimped Lada but saw only the odd camel with a perm or horse with an earing. Tatis struggling heavily with the heat the distance and corruption and if it wasn't for a bit of old school defiance the desert would of claimed another cyclist.
She pulled through and almost enjoyed the turn north towards Aralsk. Although the 120 km was a headwind it did finally offer us some scenery worthy of the odd bit of admiration.The odd village,hills and dunes filled with camels and horses gave us a great camp for our final camp in the desert on this trip.The Sahara,Gobi and Kyzylkum deserts have been hard, rewarding experiences but with about 6000 km of desert covered on this trip we feel we've earnt our medals and now its time to look for that little holiday cottage in the country.We'll leave the western Kazakh deserts to the real heroes,or mad bastards as they're better known.
The town of Aralsk,contrary to what we heard is a vibrant,cheerful little town in comparison to some of the places we've been through recently.Testament to the resolve of the people who have seen their sea retreat from the harbour over the last couple of generations thanks to bad soviet planning and mismanagement of cotton crops back in the 1960's. Irrigation of the Syr Darya river has now been sorted and once again it flows into the Aral sea.With the help of a multi national dam construction, the waters have stopped leaking into the doomed southern Aral and will fill the north Aral to a sustainable level.They even have a fishing fleet here again.
There are theories that the Aral sea is subject to fluctuations in depth.A mosque that was uncovered from beneath the sea has given that possibility a lot of clout,either that or the fish around here are highly religious.Still 80% of its volume lost in 50 years stinks to me of blatant human error rather than climate change.
Spent some time wandering around the dry harbour looking at the old rusting boats and together with Greg a knowledgeable New Zealander , we took in the small local museum.
They don't have much in Aralsk,the hotel doesn't have a sea view(I asked) but it did have not one, but two pimped Lada's. A cracking job,a real proud moment in human history.
It was a hot uncomfortable hop in the crowded platscarta on the train to Atyrau where we answered questions from how much do you earn? to how much does a small tube of toothpaste cost?I'm not sure that this way of questioning is being hospitable?Don't get me wrong I don't care how much people think I earn(I lie anyway in these countries and round it down alot).To me Kazaks aren't what I would call hospitable,to me they are just nosey.Plain and simple.
Our Koupe ride was much more relaxing,a closed door,air con and a two versus one ratio in the cabin ,to our favor.Fended off some questions about my dreads being real with some pleasant Kazakh girls that spoke very good English and before we knew it we were riding into Aktau and the broken bottle beaches of the Caspian Sea.
If Kazakhstan didn't start well or have a good middle then the end was great.A free rock festival was held in Aktau,s main square,we even got to be groupies with Atyrau's very own death metal band ,Double Face.Had a few pre gig vodkas up in their hotel room.(decided not to throw the TV out the window).
Kazakhstan was a tough gig for us.Hard riding,corrupt cops,little value for money,not a lot to look at and too many contradictions.One day a driver would give us money from his car the next day they would aim at us on purpose to knock us off the road.
One mans nightmare is another mans dream. On reflection the people who don't wear the uniforms or the big hats are decent friendly folk and were simply trying to befriend a couple of desperado's with inquisitive questions. Tough place to cycle through. Hats off to the locals who live on the steppe.
Flew out of there on a plane made of cardboard and chewing gum,wobbling our way west to Tbilisi and a bit of a break.

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Photos

A turn
never a dull moment on the steppe

Kazak gold
The fabled pimped lada

High and dry
Beached boat in Aralsk harbour

Double Face
death metal ,Kazak style