The Mighty Aral Sea

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It is a beautiful morning. Seven a.m. and the sun is shining on the plains. Birds are chirping in the brush, and dirty flies are sitting on my face. I wake up and feel intensely relaxed. Before the others get up I quickly sneak out to take some pictures of the slumbering station. Soon we are sitting on a blanket in the shadow offered by the car having our token noodle, tea and bread breakfast, spiced up with some canned meat and tomatoes.

We head out into the plains for the final leg to the coastline and I am beginning to get a bit plagued by the heat again. There is not a single cloud about and already and the car is turning into a sauna. The trail turns to gravel and we head down from the plateau and for the first time I can see the Aral Sea close up in all its blue glory, its water sparkling in the sunshine. We pass through a checkpoint pass that leads to more destroyed military installations and drive down onto the beach. Here we meet the second jeep, already on its way back.

I later learn from Otabek what they have been up to. Apparently upon coming back to the mining station they were first refused to stay until they were finally given a small room which turned out to be too hot for five people at once. They had instead moved up onto the roof and spent the night there, which had been a rather chilly ordeal. They went up before first light to photograph the sunrise down at the beach.

For now though the salty lake is all ours, and we disembark from the car and walk around. The beach is quite jagged and rocky, the water looking quite inviting though. We walk by a big trench and Rustam explains how it made an American traveller 1000 USD lighter last year, which was the fee he had to pay to have someone help tow his Landcruiser out of the mud. Rustam and Otabek quickly get into the water while I remain a bit skeptical. I give in to curiosity though, but the rocks are rather slippery and the bottom is covered with a thick layer of mud which catches me off guard and I manage to dip my camera into the water. After that incident I decide to remain on the shore and scrape salt off the camera housing.

Upon returning to the jeep to wash off the salt and dirt we make an interesting discovery - the mud is extremely sticky almost like some kind of industrial waste. Having just cleaned my feet and put on my shoes I carelessly step into it and it sticks to the soles of my shoes like some sort of malignant evil entity. It stays there for quite some time until the dry air can finally kills it powerful grip.

Well, it was a long journey to get here, and in less than an hour we are already on the way back. Today's slog back will be through the same grassy plains, although we move a bit further inland where the grounds are not so bumpy, making dramatic improvements to our ground speed, now nearing 80 km/h. Rustam is continuously on the lookout for animals but they elude him completely. We soon make contact with and overtake the second jeep and continue the long drive back to the end of the plateau. However, this time we are going to use the shortcut across the seabed.

The seabed mainly consists of dry sand and mud that has cracked into a beautiful mosaic pattern. At almost unnaturally regular intervals there are small green bushes about. Not having driven very far we are suddenly stopped by a minor technical problem. A wire has been severed and needs to be replaced in a field repair. It doesn't take more than ten minutes for the drivers to fix it and soon we are on the way again.

The scenery isn't as impressive as yesterday and we are all a bit fatigued from the journey, yet our mood is still high and we spend most of the time talking trash. Late in the afternoon we make our way back on more solid ground and happen upon a small village on the way to Moynaq. Amusingly the paved road here is in even worse condition than the desert roads. I'm starting to feel rather worn in my more noble parts from all the constant parrying and bouncing. My right arm is also wonderfully sunburnt from its proximity to the window.

We roll back into Moynaq around five in the afternoon and stop at the bazar to stock up on some more food and water. I have been spending film like crazy and am happy to find some fresh rolls of film in one of the shops. Not wanting to be a bad sport I decide to buy only four of the five available rolls. Everybody is running low on CYM and I am the only one with just a few thousand left.

Soon we arrive outside the Oyabek Hotel again and move into our new twin rooms. The Tashkent photographers had first intended to spend the night as well (getting crowded) but after having suffered two breakdowns including one tyre change they've had enough and head straight back to Nukus. Otabek and I sit down in our strange rooms, inspect the slightly disturbing colours of the various stains on these new beds and decide not to do too much research into their origins. Instead we make use of the water boiler again and whip up some nice... wait for it... bread, tea and noodles with canned meat, together with a big bag of cookies that we've just purchased.

Rustam comes back after having washed the car, but our gear is still covered with a fine layer of dust and sand. We have supper and discuss the plan for tomorrow, which will mainly be a return trip to Nukus. Outside the window I can see a family pushing a Moskwich car across the big yard, the man in the front seat and a dozen women and children pushing it. The tea always tastes wonderful in this city.

In the evening we can hear an unfamiliar voice speaking English from the outside. We walk down and find a French backpacker who has just arrived by the local bus from Nukus. She's been touring the region for the past months and her accounts of really low budget travel seem quite masochistic to me. Drinking tap water, swimming in the rivers and sleeping in the parks doesn't exactly tickle my fancy.

As darkness falls we retire to the rooms for the mosquito swatting ritual. Our rooms are completely crowded. I would assume that around 50-60 little buggers are now part of the wall decor, and it is getting hard finding a nice piece of blue wall not bearing the scars of civil war. The mantis are clever enough not to try to get in, but the occasional fly and a cricket are not so lucky. The climate is just as horrible as last night I spent here, and trying to sleep is an exercise in keeping moist by constantly sprinkling water all over. I am starting to get tired of these nights and wish I was back in the desert again.

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Photos

Sleep well, dear?
Best night I ever spent in this country!

Bread and noodles, refugee-style
At least I got the toothpaste out of my hair...

Last obstacle before arriving at the beach
This used to be a manned checkpoint

Remnants of a military installation
Everything was destroyed when they pulled out

Landcruiser + mud = big hole
1000 USD + tow truck = expensive experience for American traveller

I think I prefer the seabed
The trucks have grinded most paved roads into a near impassable moon landscape.

Back to base!
The familiar silhouettes of Moynaq

The Battle for Moynaq (detail)
Two platoons of mosquitoes, supported by crickets and mantis were succesfully repelled.

Comments

[Jen]

Watch out...
Hey guys. Looks like you're having a ton of fun. But as I am sitting at my pc, researching for my presentation exam on the Aral Sea next monday, it kinda got me worried. Dunno if you would still think the shoreline looks inviting if you knew what is in all that sand, mud and salt - never mind the water. I can tell you, there are more than enough reasons for the missing fish in that sea. But eh, enjoy your stay! Have a blast - just don't swim too much... Thanks for the pics, they're great! Jen