Day 19 and 20: The Gates of Hell

Miles driven: 485 miles

Time in Car:11 hours

Borders crossed: 1

We drove out of Ashgabat after doing a final sightseeing tour via our car, Stevie. While the previous post explained Ashgabat in detail, I still can’t believe that city exists. Just the weirdest place I’ve ever been. Another rally team who has a teammate who’s visited North Korea said that Ashgabat trumped North Korea in the strangeness department. I don’t have reason to doubt that guy because it’s going to take a lot to out-weird the capital of bananalands itself, Ashgabat. 

Our next stop our our Turkmen tour was one of the more famous places along that Mongol Rally route, the Darvaza gas crater or more commonly known as “The Gates to Hell”. To get there, we hopped on the road heading straight north and drove for 4 hours bouncing up and down as we sped across the buckled highway. Just before the town of Darvaza, there was a small turnoff onto a dirt road. Our maps.me app said the 5 km off the highway would take almost an hour. We knew the road was dirt and sand and that other teams often needed locals in 4x4s to tow them out in case they got stuck, but we pressed on anyways. There was one Australian team that we were convoying with so we figured we could help each other out if need be. Soon after we turned off the highway however, we noticed a few locals on motorbikes tail us as we made our way. I guess even though we were confident in our abilities to transverse the terrain, they were not. It was packed gravel for 1 km, but soon we met our first challenge: a 100 m downslope through soft sand. We and the Australian team exited our vehicles to scope out our path. There were two options to take: right or left. Not much difference between them but still one had to choose which path to take. The locals on their motorcycles looked on as if they knew our fate was predestined. Tanner at the wheel, we took the route on the left at second gear. 25 m in and we sunk to a halt with sand spraying from our spinning tires. Enter the locals. They sprung to our aid digging out sand from our wheel wells, laying down brush in front of tires for traction, and pushing our car from the rear. After 15 min or so, we gave Stevie enough push to get her onto more stable ground. Meanwhile, the Australians who watched from the top of the hill of how not to drive this section of sand, they took the route on the right with a much more speed and pedal-to-the-metal. They made it no sweat. Lesson learned here: in soft sand conditions, maintain speed at all costs. The remainder of the road to the gas crater was off-road gravel but manageable, we made it to the crater in 15 minutes. 

Stevie stuck

Stevie and the pit in daylight

Upon arrival, we came upon a gigantic hole in the middle of the Karakum desert. It was roughly 70 m in diameter or so and probably 30 m deep. Around the the rim of the pit and at the base, flames burned from the natural gas that was lit nearly 50 years ago in 1971. Originally, Soviets wanted to drill the area for oil. But after a collapse of the drilling rig, they tried to burn off the methane gas that was poisoning the surrounding towns. It hasn’t stopped burning since. There was a rudimentary fence around the pit but that did not stop anyone from getting to the pit’s edge to gaze at the fire and flames beneath. The heat was intense, hot enough to make a s’more. Too bad we forgot our jet puff and graham crackers back in the US. We got there around 5 pm, and between us and the Australian team, we were the only people there. We set up camp away from the wind to avoid the heat and gas and waited until dark and for other rally teams (particularly from our unfortunate ferry ride) to arrive. 

While the gas crater was incredible to witness during daylight, when darkness fell across the desert, the gas crater lit up bright orange and red illuminating the desert landscape like something out of this world. It was absolutely incredible. Without a doubt, it’s one of the most surreal sights I’ve ever witnessed. When the sun fell, more and more rally teams trickled in to the crater. We rendezvoused with everyone at the crater’s edge with beers catching up about the strangeness of Ashgabat and our trials and tribulations we faced on the Caspian Sea. The night was like one gigantic bonfire at a cabin up north - sharing stories, libations, and laughs over an open flame in the dead of the night, except the flame was a gigantic fire pit that has been burning for 50 years. 

The team in front of the Gates of Hell

By 7 am we were all up, not by our own accord but because the Karakum summer sun was already blazing in the sky. We bid our farewell to some ferry rally teams that were heading back down to Ashgabat and onwards to Samarkand and began our convoy to Konye-Urgench, the northern border crossing of Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan. We had heard the road was terrible at parts to the northern border so we knew we were in for an uncomfortable ride. The ride itself was 6 and half hours but only covered 188 miles. The first 4 hours were manageable with steady speeds, constant bouncing, and pothole avoidance. However the last 2 and half hours to the border town was the worst driving of the entire rally. It was only 46 miles and they were hard earned. The road was pure garbage. I think it was paved in the 1970s and then upon completion, it was mortar shelled by the Turkmen army along every inch of tarmac. The “road” alternated parts of gravel and destroyed pavement. The “road” was tense, slow, and bumpy, very bumpy. We used the entirety of the road zigging and zagging to avoid gigantic potholes. The pavement sections often were so sunken by semi-trailers that there were unavoidable bottom outs. Each time we scraped the ground, we tensed up and held our breath but continued on (our sump guard was working). After 2.5 hours, half a dozen bottom outs, and suffering minor whiplash, we made it to the border crossing. Although that was the most terrible driving of the trip, I do not doubt that we will face those types of roads not only more often, but with worse severity as well. 

The Turkmen-Uzbekistan crossing only took 1.5 hours, a piece-of-cake compared to our 12 hour fiasco it took getting into this country. I think our team was glad we got to see Turkmenistan. It offered bizarreness at the highest degree. But at the same time, we were all glad to leave Turkmenistan behind us. With our 3 team convoy, we drove for about an hour or so in Uzbekistan (on much better roads) before we wild camped near some train tracks and a lake. We had a quick swim in what I hope was not a very dirty and polluted lake, ate a back-to-back dinner of instant ramen, and called it a night. Tomorrow we head to Khiva, one of the crowned jewels of Uzbekistan and the Ancient Silk Road. -FWY

Wild camping in Uzbekistan

Day 18: The Devil in the White City

Miles driven: 356 miles

Time in Car: 7 hours

Borders crossed: 1

It had been going in for what seemed like hours. We were exhausted, but it felt like we really didn’t have a choice in the matter. We had left that luxury back in Baku. This was Turkmenistan after all. Outside of North Korea, the country is probably the most secretive and isolated place in earth. Things are different here. And so, with arms getting tired, we smiled and waved back to what seemed like the millionth car filled of curious, excited Turkmen. In a city composed of beautiful, sculpture-like marble buildings and filled with white, sparkling clean cars, Stevie stood out. In a country that only lets in a handful of visitors a year, we stood out (only 5000 visas are provisioned each year). The Turkmen people were genuinely thrilled to see us. Drivers would come up to us, match speeds and smile and wave to us. Even the border guards and the police seemed excited to meet Americans. 

Thursday. August 8th. Around 11 am. It had been nearly twelve hours since we got off the boat. We had spent nine of those hours waiting for Tanner and the other drivers. The port was glistening white, filled with immaculately polished marble, reminding us of the inside of some battle station from Star Wars. Unfortunately for the building clearly designed to impress new arrivals, the extreme inefficiency of the border crossing caused the novelty to wear off shortly. The waiting room was an ice box. Miserably cold. The vast majority of the few chairs it contained were taken by Turkmen. We could sit against the wall, but we’re forbidden to lay down. If we drifted off to sleep, we would be promptly awoken. We had no contact with Tanner and the other drivers. We had no clue what was going on or how on earth they could keep a building at such a low temperature. We stared at a giant tv, showing us some propaganda video that highlighted the music of the country. There was no sound. We watched a handful of people continuously mopping the floor over and over again. We waited. Finally, the first wave of drivers came. Pure elation. We went outside into the warmth (previously we would be frantically ushered back inside whenever we tried). Spirits high, we saw the cars trickle in. No Tanner. The ushered us back into the frosty, ninth ring of hell to wait some more. The second wave came, no Tanner. Finally the third wave came. Again no Tanner. This time however, the police and the workers seemed to think that all of the cars had come. After a few chaotic moments of trying to argue with them, we were shoved into another teams van and forced to drive off. In the one country where we didn’t have cell phone service, this was problematic. Luckily, Tanner was waiting at some roundabout a few minutes away. Some confused cop had apparently prevented him from joining in the convoy. We switched drivers, and we were on our way to Ashgabat.

Unlike Azerbaijan, the Turkmen desert was fairly pretty. The landscape changed from mountains, to sand dunes, to salt lakes and back again. The wide highways were deserted except for the occasional truck, the rare car, or the numerous (and rather fearless) camels. We made good time and made our way to the white city. 

Ashgabat is beautiful. It is one of the most impressive cities any of us had ever been too. Grandiose marble building after marble building. Everything was accented by gold. Even the sidewalks were granite. The landscaping across the entire city was expertly manicured. It’s breathtaking. It’s an oasis in the middle of the desert. It’s a paradise. It’s the result of an extremely corrupt government/dictatorship having access to some of the largest gas and oil reserves in the world. As beautiful as the city was, we were constantly reminded of just how unnatural it was. There were cameras and police everywhere. There were screens showing  videos of the city at night. Guards were in front of every building protecting it, seemingly, but from whom? There were massive, Putin-esque portraits of the current president everywhere, and gold statues of the previous president. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were paid people just to drive cars around the city making the streets appear “busy”. There was an 11:00 pm curfew. The only people walking in the sidewalks were street cleaners and landscapers. The beautiful parks were also empty. No graffiti, no litter, just marble. 

Buildings in Ashgabat. The gardens were perfect and also empty.

The Monument of Neutrality - or a spaceship with a golden statue of the former dictator atop that rotates throughout the day to always be basking in the sunlight. Little known fact, that same dictator banned gold teeth but was ok with gold statues of himself.

At the time of writing this post, we currently lack internet so are unable to supplement this with any additional information. To put things into perspective, it may be useful to google the Turkmenistan government and read about the previous president. For example, he renamed days of the week after family members and pets...the level of control the government has is astounding. Ashgabat is the result of his control and the egos of the rulers. And yet the people were colorful and lively. And friendly. While you’re at it, also look up the current president (who is NOT dead). He’s an expert marksman, avid cyclist, nature enthusiast, and a brilliant scientist, allegedly.

Olympic Village complete with the mascot

We checked into The Grand Turkmen (rumored to have been a Ritz before the government took it over) and then took a cab to explore the city and check out some monuments. We grabbed some food and called it an early night. After sleeping in the next day and a quick breakfast, we drove around the city a bit. We drove around the Independence Park which had stunning monuments and amazing gardens and no visitors. It also seemed to lack an entrance so all we could do was marvel beyond the fence as we drove around it. Next we drove past the Olympic Village. For the sports buffs out there, Turkmenistan hosted the Olympics not once and are not scheduled to host it in the near future. Still, it hasn’t stopped them from constructing an immaculate sports complex complete with a monorail to navigate the Olympic sites. It even had the Olympic Rings plastered on the buildings but just ever so slightly off center so that the IOC wouldn’t sue them for copyright infringement. Lastly, we checked out the Palace of Marriage. It was gigantic building with a gigantic globe hoisted in the middle with the outline of Turkmenistan on it. Apparently, all weddings are legally registered here. The building also serves as a huge wedding reception building. However, if you do get hitched here, it is mandatory that the couple take a photo with a giant portrait of the Turkmen president. How charming. Next we head into the desert and sand dunes to find the famous gates of hell. -FWY

The Marriage Palace

Day 15 to Day 17: The Caspian Sea

Miles driven: 0

Time on Ferry:71 hours

Borders crossed: 1

**Blog was written incrementally as we were on Ferry so we decided to bucket it into one post. Be advised, it’s long**

Day 15:

In our last blog post, we were thrilled that on the day we arrived to Alat that we would be boarding a ferry only 7 hours after our arrival. We claimed one of the last available slots on the Turkmen operates ferry and joined with the Rally team campsite that had formed in the ferry parking lot. Some teams had been waiting days in the parking lot. We only had to wait hours. What luck we had! We had budgeted five days for the ferry based on past experience of other teams. Getting on the ferry immediately would give us so much flexibility going forward. Our team was still cautiously optimistic but we couldn’t afford but think about the extra days we may pick up in the Pamirs or in Kyrgyzstan.

Then we boarded the boat. That’s where all optimism began to fade. At around 11 pm all of the rally teams (about 10 or so in total) lined up for customs before heading to the boat. I wouldn’t call it chaos but it was the most unorganized customs process we’ve been on this trip. After clearing Azerbaijan customs, we entered the port and were effectively in “no-man’s land” until we landed in Turkmenbashi. A customs official said we had to X-ray all of our bags and boxes on our roof once we entered the port. We tried to find the X-ray but since A) no one knew where the X-ray was and B) unloading our entire contents of the car would have been a major pain in the ass, we just decided to get on the boat instead. We were finally on the boat - the Bagtyyar, an Uljanik-manufactured boat that was an ugly box of a ship. Optimism was still high but things were going to start looking bleak soon. 

Dinner

Tasteful interior

We grabbed our sleeping gear, backpacks, a few provisions of food and left our car and made our way to the passenger level. It’s hard to describe, but let’s just say it’s nothing like a Royal Caribbean ship you’ve sailed to Mexico. On the passenger level, there are three main rooms. The room towards the stern is a large room with airplane style seats in three large columns. In the middle room, there are L-shaped couches that hug the walls forming a sort of lounge area which encircles the reception desk. The front room is the dining room and kitchen. Not knowing what to expect, we immediately claimed an L-couch as homebase. However, soon after laying claim to our couch space, a Turkmen women took our spots and shooed us to the floor. We tried to hold our spot but our attempts were in vain. Eventually we ended up with a bit of couch and some floor space to set up our sleeping pads. Our neighbors to to our right thankfully was a German rally team while to our left was a group of Turkmen women who often made jokes at our expense in a language we couldn’t understand. Once we had our spots, we began our check-in process. The check-in involved a guy transcribing by hand our passport information into a spreadsheet, collecting our boarding passes, and taking down our car information. One would think that this information could have been passed to the ship crew when we purchased our tickets at the port office, but that sounds too efficient. At 5:30 am we were checked-in and went to bed. We still hadn’t left port (original departure time was 11pm).

Our wake-up came at 9:30 with some foot nudges from our Turkmen neighbors gesturing that one of our two guaranteed meals was being served in the dining hall. Happily, we noticed our ship was moving and had been since around 8:30 am. We had finally left port. After a very bland breakfast of hard boiled eggs and unidentifiable sausage in a plastic wrapper, our boat came to a halt at around noon. Here is where optimism really began to fade. The winds were strong and the waves were choppy. At Alat, Monday’s forecast called for 45 mph winds. We had heard rumors that we could be anchored for 24-48 hours but no one had any clue. In our few hour journey, we had travelled north hugging the coast. We had anchored 10 km out from Baku. 

Do you remember when you were a kid during the summer and a rainy day forced you to stay inside thinking of ways to stay busy? That’s what the rest of the day consisted of. We played card games with other rally teams - up and down the river, BS, spoons, shitheads. Settlers of Catan surprisingly was on the boat so we played that too. We’re the only American team amongst several UK teams, one German team, a Spanish team, two Portuguese, etc... so we had no problem trading conversations about life back home. Dinner was a bit better but still bland - some boiled barley and a chicken thingy. We ate, played a few more card games, and called it a night. Almost 24 hours on the boat, we went to bed hoping the boat would be moving by morning. 

Day 16: 

When we woke up the next day, the boat wasn’t moving which wasn’t great. Still we floated outside of Baku along with 30 other ships anchored as well. Azerbaijan’s coast was visible from our boat. The dining hall was also charging 15 Manat, around ~8 USD, for breakfast which was astronomically overpriced for the breakfast they were serving. Looked like if you wanted to eat, we now were going to have to pay. Mike wandered upstairs looking for a shower and through some Google translate and a friendly Russian crew member, we ended up with a key to a private cabin and shower in second deck. We shared the key with the rest of the rally teams and we all enjoyed a shower - a small victory as we floated on the Caspian. After showering, we got another small victory, breakfast now was being served for 1 USD - a much more reasonable price for 3 fried eggs, sausage, and very dense, dry piece of bread. However, the short victories paled in comparison to what we heard eating our breakfast: our boat’s earliest departure time was Wednesday night. That means the earliest we can be on Turkmen soil is Thursday midday. And given that Turkmen customs are a hellish nightmare, it could be Friday morning before we’re officially through. Through bits of cell service we picked up on our phones, we heard that teams waiting for the next ferry were screwed as well. It sounded like the next ferry wouldn’t leave until Wednesday or Thursday due to weather. Many teams still in Azerbaijan had to ditch the Caspian Ferry altogether and drive through Russia around the Caspian Sea into Kazakhstan. Had we still been on soil in Azerbaijan, we’d probably have considered going through Russia as well by car, but that decision didn’t really matter as we floated in the Caspian waves. 

More card games, more route planning, more conversations. We taught two British teammates how to play Euchre (following suit is still a learning point). We also spoke with some truck drivers about our route through Turkmenistan and the drive to Darvaza and the Gates off Hell. Long story short, the roads are shit. Oh, and the last remaining bit of couch space we had in the lounge area was overtaken by our friendly Turkmen neighbors. Sleeping on the floor it is. Last but not least, the shop that sells chips, 1.5 liter waters, and coke seems to have prices that vary like the stock market. Yesterday a water and chips was 5 Azerbaijani manat. Today, 7 manat. Tomorrow who knows. Sometimes they accept USD. Sometimes only Turkmen Manat. Usually they try to rip you off for any purchase in any type of currency. Who knows. 

At the end of the night, after a surprisingly tasty fried noodle dish and chicken thingy, we learned some news that changed the entire boat’s mood. Weather was clearing up and we were planning to resume course to Turkmenbashi by morning. Jubilation spread through the dining room. We capped the night off with a marathon game of salad bowl. A Romanian rallier was passing out his homemade grappa. It was plum flavored but tasted like jet fuel. The entire 1.5 liter bottle was emptied. After a fun-filled night of games we went to bed happy knowing that our boat would soon be sailing again. Even our Turkmen women neighbors who each day have closed in our personal space and tonight had shut off all AC vents turning our sleeping area into a sweat box couldn’t bother us. Tomorrow *hopefully* we would reach Turkmenistan. 

Our neighbors in the middle room sleeping area

Day 17:

At around 8:30 am, even though our Turkmen lady neighbor friends were already boisterously chatting about who-knows-what, we heard the engines turn on. In about 15 minutes, we were finally moving. Turkmenistan here we come. 

After another $1 breakfast, we spent the day lounging around. The sun was shining as we cruised across the sea. It was refreshing to see our so-called “express” ferry overtake other ships as we raced to Turkmenbashi. We heard rumors that back in Alat, AZ that several rally teams (upwards of 40) had stockpiled in the port parking lot. Ferries filled up while teams still waited; they couldn’t even leave the lot without losing their spot in line for a ticket. Upon hearing this, the team sighed in relief that they got a ticket to this ferry. Being on the ferry trumps being in a parking lot never knowing what ferry you’ll be on. 

More games. More books. More conversation. More incomprehensible conversations with Turkmen passengers. We even heard through verified news sources that Turkmen president, who had been rumored to have died, was in top health and was seen driving trucks in Darvaza and bowling strikes in a local alley. The day flew by, ironically, as we discussed our route once we got off the boat. With the 10 teams or so aboard, most of us are planning to spend a day and night in Ashgabat, the capital city of Turkmenistan, aka Bizzaroworld. After Ashgabat, our caravan will head north to Darvaza and the famous, still burning natural gas crater that lights up the surrounding desert landscape earning itself the nickname, “The Gates of Hell”. 

Land ho

After dinner, rumors swirled in the dining room that our arrival at port would be 9 PM Turkmen time. We believed it half-heatedly as all estimated target times were horribly missed thus far on our journey - “I’ll believe it when I see it” attitude. However, as we saw land on the horizon and as we noticed our Turkmen lady neighbors pick up their small caravan of goods, we looked at ourselves and realized, “we’re actually leaving this boat tonight”. Turkmen customs will be another story and problem once we disembark the lovely Bagtyyar, but still leaving the place we called home - the hard ground in a crowded, crappy boat with intrusive neighbors, lousy food, and staff the ripped you off - was a sentimental thought. As we pulled into Turkmenbashi as the sun set across the Caspian, I couldn’t believe we were about to enter the country of Turkmenistan. I couldn’t still believe we just crossed the Caspian Sea, a body of water I’ve always wondered about since reading the Chronicles of Narnia book that bore its name. Clichè as it sounds, I think we’ll look back at these past three days (a longer time we have spent in any city during the entire rally), and be glad with our choice of being on this ferry. Had some great conversations and laughs with other teams. But most importantly made some great friends with other teams we can hopefully convoy through the -Stan’s with. Goodbye, Bagtyyar, while you weren’t perfect, you weren’t entirely shit either. See ya never. -FWY

Author’s note: While the ferry landed at around 10:45 pm, we are still waiting for our final team member to clear security as of 5:32 am.

Out the back

Day 14: Azerbaijan, goodbye Dan, and our wait begins

Miles driven: 233

Time in car: 9 hours

Borders crossed: 1

On Saturday night in Tbilisi, we had heard rumblings that there may be a ferry departing the port city of Alat for Turkmenbashi on Sunday evening. So come Sunday morning, we booked it out of Tbilisi (a city drawing high praise from all team members) and made for Azerbaijan.

When we got to the border, we were expecting a 2+ hour fiasco. We were quick to learn that lines don’t really work here in Azerbaijan as we were cut by several other people while we queued for customs. After forming a 3-wide human barricade to protect our spot in line, we made it through customs in about an hour. Tanner, who has to go through an entire separate customs process as the registered owner of our Skoda, also made it through customs in about an hour and a half, much to the delight of the team. While we were into Azerbaijan with no issues, we knew that the worst of it was yet to come. We had heard and read from multiple sources that Azerbaijan has very strict traffic laws and that cops are well-known to pull over rally teams for minuscule offenses only letting you go after a cash bribe (preferably in USD) is handed over. So before we hit the highway in Azerbaijan, we put all of our wallets in our bags and only stashed a “dummy” wallet filled with 20 bucks in the glove box. The thought was, if we couldn’t avoid a cash bribe by feigning dumb, we would use the dummy wallet to show them we only had a small amount of cash and can’t afford their $200 request. 

On the road, the driving through Azerbaijan was miserable. The first 100 km in Azerbaijan are on a 2 lane highway where posted speed limits topped out at 60 kph. Intermittently, the posted speed limit would jump to 90 kph for a brief section of highway before abruptly changing to 30 kph - right at section of road where there would be speed cameras conveniently placed. Mike and Dan, to their credit, followed the speed limits carefully and navigated the 100 or so speed radars and 2 dozen cops and got us to Alat without being pulled over once. As for the scenery on the drive? Without a doubt - worst on the trip thus far.

We pulled into the Alat around 4:30 PM and within 30 minutes we had our tickets for the Turkmenbashi ferry. Better yet, the ferry left tonight at 11 PM. Timing could have not have worked better in our favor. From years past and reading about the ferry, often teams are stuck in Azerbaijan waiting for the ferry for days. Last year a team had a 6 day stay in the ferry parking lot. 

Needless to say, we were pretty thrilled about arriving in Alat just as the ferry was departing. Sadly however, this also meant that we had to send Dan to Baku, alone. Unfortunately, Dan’s rally terminates in Baku as he heads back to California and resumes the “real world”. Baku is the capital city of Azerbaijan and is supposed to be a modern marvel of Eastern Europe. We were planning to spend a night in Baku before catching the ferry. But, we couldn’t afford to miss this ferry as the timing for the next one’s departure is very much a TBD. So we said our goodbyes and Dan was on his way to Baku. Dan was a valuable asset to the team and he’ll be missed dearly. As for the remaining three, we are currently sitting in the parking lot waiting to board a ferry that is supposed to leave in 7 minutes but I don’t think we’ll set off until 1 or 2 am. However once aboard, it could be days before we actually disembark onto Turkmen soil in Turkmenbashi. We’re hoping for a smooth, safe, and most importantly short journey across the Caspian Sea before we get our 5 day visa to explore one of the worlds weirdest countries, Turkmenistan. - FWY 

P.S - no cell coverage in Turkmenistan so it might be a few days until our next post. 

Godspeed, Dan

Day 12 and 13: Tbilisi

Miles driven: 233

Time in car: 7 hours

Borders crossed: 0

After a night in Batumi, we woke early to begin our drive to Tbilisi, the capital of Georgia. Much of the drive consisted of Georgian drivers whipping past us at breakneck speeds, barely avoiding the oncoming traffic or the random cows on the highway everywhere. Despite a few white knuckle moments, we quickly made it to our first of two pit stops: The Legend of Star. A team from a previous year told us about the very blatant Starbucks rip off, so we added it to our list. After a surprisingly decent coffee and a quick lunch, we were back on the road. Our next pit stop was a small town called Gori.

Gori was the birth place of Joseph Stalin. For those of you who might not be history buffs, Stalin wasn’t exactly the nicest of all guys. The museum in Gori dedicated to him was built shortly after his reign. The blatant propaganda in such a heavily anti Russian country (parts of Georgia are occupied by Russia and the two went to war in 2008) is really weird. Unfortunately (and ironically) the museum charges a fee, so we decided to skip it. We did get to see the house he grew up in as well as his railway car. 

Lookout from the Tbilisi fort

After a quick drive to Tbilisi, we checked into our Airbnb and went to Racha for dinner. Racha is a small, underground establishment known for serving some high quality local food. We split more Khinkali, a roasted pork dish, a garlic chicken dish, a couple of beef stews, some beers and some chacha. Chacha is a local grape liquor that taste as if someone crossed a bottle of grappa with a barrel of jet fuel. I’m sure it’s apparently good for our stamina or something like that, but let’s just say that you won’t be finding chacha in any American store anytime soon. Naturally, the chacha was served to us out of a recycled sprite bottle. We finished the night with some drinks with a few teams that we have gotten to know.

The following day started late (thanks in part to the numerous $3 half liter carafes of wine). We fought our hangovers with some freshly baked Georgian bread from the bakery down the street and then sought out some more Georgian food. After another heavy meat and carb based meal, we climbed the hill above the city to check out the ruins of the old fortress as well as the Mother of Georgia statue (huge statue of a woman that was built to commemorate the 1500th anniversary of the city’s birth). The climb allowed us to view the next tantalizing attraction for us to explore: the famous Sulphur baths of Tbilisi.

In our defense, the Turkish bath we had in Istanbul was a great experience. It was strange, sure, but we were all glad we did it. Of course we had to check out the Georgian version.

Glad we did the bath? Sure. Cleaner for it? Questionable.

The Georgian version is very different. First of all, it uses water that naturally has a very high amount of Sulphur in it. The entire building reeked of Sulphur. The water smelled even more strongly. If you don’t know what Sulphur smells like, take an egg. Put it outside in the heat. Wait a couple of months, then open the egg. It smells like that. Now imagine taking a shower in water that smells like that. Now imagine taking that shower next to 15 older Georgian men, in a dimly lit room, everyone in their birthday suites, water is screaming hot. Add a hot tub and the hottest sauna on earth to that image and you basically have the Georgian Sulfur bath. It’s one of those experiences that are truly once in a lifetime. Once, not because it’s hard to get to Tbilisi, but because we personally do not feel the need to ever do it again. It was cool to experience what was clearly part of the Tbilisi culture (based of the surprised Georgian we kept getting and the lack of English, most tourists just skip it), and the two elderly Georgian women at reception seemed excited (and surprised) that we were trying it. It just wasn’t our cup of tea. To each their own. We finished our self guided tour by checking out the new cathedral and then took much cleaner showers before dinner. 

For dinner, we went to Shavi Lomi. Famous for being one of the best restaurants in Tbilisi, Shavi Lomi is a rather bohemian place that specializes in the meats and stews that make up the more rustic parts of Georgian cuisine. It was a welcome change from the same Khinkali and bread we had been having. We split some appetizer consisting of four different spreads, a tomato and avocado salad (I never thought I would crave fresh veggies until three days of Georgian food), a lamb dish, two chicken dishes, and a beef shank. Each dish had sauces flavored with walnuts or wine or even rosemary. It was all very unique, but at the same time very approachable. Georgian food in general had been among our favorites of the trip. Although bread and salt fatigue is a real thing we all began to experience after our second Georgian meal, we’ll all be seeking out a Georgian restaurant in the states to relive the gooey, fatty, cheesy joy of a first bite of khachapuri. We ended the night by meeting up with several other rally teams at Fabrika - a square full of bars and $1 beers. We met several teams who would be trying to catch the ferry with us in Azerbaijan. We went to bed relatively early, anxious about the supposed bribe solicitations awaiting us in Azerbaijan and the infamous ferry to Turkmenistan. The easy part of the rally had ended. -FWY

The gang overlooking Tbilisi

Fabrika - Tbilisi’s local socializing spot for young bar-goers. An open air square surrounded by trendy restaurants and bars.

Holy Trinity Cathedral of Tbilisi - one of the largest religious building (by area) in the world

Day 11: Georgia on my Mind

Miles Driven: 60 miles

Time in Car: 2 hours

Borders Crossed: 1

Our longest border crossing of the trip thus far was had Thursday morning at the Turkish border with Georgia. While Mike, Joe, and Dan walked through customs, Tanner had to man the vehicle through the Turkish-Georgian car crossing protocol. After roughly an hour or so though, we were in Georgia and only had a short ride to Batumi, our destination for the day. 

The Golden Arches

Batumi is Georgia’s resort city on the Black Sea. It’s often referred to as “The Las Vegas of the Black Sea” due to it’s economy being driven primarily by gambling. While it doesn’t hold a candle to Vegas, Batumi may be more appropriately named “Bonvoy” as Marriott properties dominate the skyline. Batumi in general is currently in process of an architectural facelift. All around Batumi, a number of modern hotels and condo buildings are under development replacing the 1980s Soviet eye sores scattered throughout the city. Not too far from our Airbnb was likely the coolest McDonald’s we’d ever seen - it resembles a glass spaceship. 

Find a Georgian restaurant and eat this.

In Georgia, we had two preconceived notions confirmed: 1) the food is cheap and amazing and 2) the drivers are crazy. The former we discovered in a $15 lunch in which we ordered three Khachapuris (cheese filled bread boat topped with a fried egg), two orders of Khinkali (dumplings), and six beers. The latter we discovered soon after the Turkish border. Drivers interpret two lane roads as three lane roads. Passing is always allowed. Traffic laws are suggestive in nature. We’ll be eating lots of carbs in Georgia but we’ll also be practicing our defensive driving skills.

With our day in Georgia, we checked out one of the many rock beaches to escape the summer heat. Afterwards we walked the famous boardwalk along the sea to downtown before taking a gondola up to a bar that overlooked the city landscape. There we enjoyed beers, the sunset, and traditional Georgian dancing complete with Mike learning some moves to bring back to the states and try out at the bars. Dinner brought more Khachapuri (to the displeasure of no one) and Georgian wine. At 10 bucks a bottle, it was our duty to get two and it was a nice change up from the lager beer we had drinking all trip. Today, we head to Tbilisi, a city with a lot of hype from this team. It’s the birthplace of wine, a bustling party town, and full of restaurants worth visiting. Until then - FWY

Batumi skyline at sunset

Day 9 and 10: Göreme

Miles Driven: 485 miles

Time in Car: 11 hours 

Borders Crossed: 0

On Tuesday we had planned to sleep in a bit (8 AM) after logging a long day of driving in the car. However everyone was up at 7 - the Cappadocian sun was already beating down relentlessly making our tents like steam boxes. Checking the weather, we saw that 98 degrees was the daily high- it was gonna be hot and sweaty one for us four midwesterners. 

What better way to beat the heat than enjoy a 2 hour leisurely breakfast served Turkish style. In the comfort of the shade, we ordered two full Turkish breakfasts (each fed 2) from a cafe up the road from our campsite. Needless to say, when our waiter brought us our food, we were shocked. The entire meal could have served 8 easily. Still, we didn’t let that bother us as we did our best to finish the breakfast while continuing the overeating American stereotype, much to the shock and awe of our waiter. What is a Turkish breakfast you may ask? Lots of breads and lots of spreads (also much better than English breakfast).

Fitting the sump at our campsite.

Returning to the campsite and chilling out in the shade, we gave Stevie a bit of an upgrade to help her tackle some of the terrain we will see in the -Stan’s and the Pamirs: a sump guard. Murat, our savvy campsite owner had a makeshift car repair ramp onsite and had two mechanics custom fitting metal sump guards for multiple rally teams. After an hour’s work, Stevie’s underbelly (oil pan, etc..) is now protected with a metal sheet guard instead a plastic one. We’ve read and heard that many teams have made it successfully to Mongolia with no sump guard, but we didn’t want to risk it. The sump guard and meticulous pothole avoidance should get us through Mongolia no problem.

In the heat of the afternoon, we checked out the Göreme Open Air Museum. Although it’s a UNESCO World Heritage site and was largely dominated by tourists, it was a cool place to see. The Open Air Museum is former Christian Monastic complex that grew in size during the 10th, 11th, and 12th Centuries. In this monastery, the Christians built churches, chapels, and homes right into the rock. What’s more impressive is that all of the churches and chapels retained major portions of their column and done structure as well as their intricate frescoes that are still in great shape on the rock walls. Furiously sweating, the team headed back to camp to chill in the shade until sunset. Before sunset, we drove over to Dervent Valley, or “Imagination Valley”, to witness Göreme’s famous chimney rock formations in the setting sun. The views were incredible and the crowds had died off; the rock formations seemed other-worldly resembling a lunar landscape. 

Imagination Valley

On Wednesday morning, we were up at 4:30 AM to catch the Göreme sunrise as well as the myriad of hot air balloons that would be flying. We had actually tried to reserve a balloon tour for Tuesday, but all flights were cancelled due to wind  speeds. Instead of forking over $300 for a Wednesday balloon ride, we opted to catch the views from Panoramic View Point instead. Like many photographs you’ll find from a Google image search of “Göreme” sunrise, the views were stunning - a hundred or more balloons of all colors floating in all different directions against the pinkish-blue sky as the sun lights up the mountains and fairy rock formations below. It was truly a site to behold. Again, pictures don’t do it justice but here are a few. 

The rest of Wednesday consisted of the lengthy and slow drive through the Pontic Mountains to a campsite 130 km east of Trabzon. The drive through the mountains was suspect at times - loose gravel, narrow roads, tight hairpins - but the views were incredible. At 8 pm, we landed at our campsite. Tomorrow we aim to cross into Georgia, a country high on everyone’s list. Our first stop is Batumi, the bustling city of the Georgian Rivera. -FWY