March 31: Turkmenbashi Seaport
I went to the seaport in the morning and promptly had a visa-expiration scare when the guards told me that bad weather on the Caspian meant that there would be no ferries for an unknown length of time. They motioned me towards the empty waiting room. I calmly reminded myself that the difficulty of traveling in Turkmenistan is one of the reasons for coming here in the first place – it’s not for the faint-of-heart but such obstacles often make for the most entertaining stories for friends. After deciding that it would be too risky to try to get back to Ashgabat and fly to Baku in one day, I walked timidly up to the customs guards who were manning the seaport. In the typical mix of broken Russian, English, and Charades, I managed to convey my dilemma: if no ferry arrived by the next day at noon, my visa would expire and I would officially be effed. Turkmenistan was probably the last country in the world that I wanted to be stranded in.
After a few minutes of suspicion of the foreigner standing pitifully before them, the guards thankfully took a liking to me and assured me that if there wasn't a ferry by the time my visa ran out, I could just cross the x-ray machine, get my exit stamp, and wait on the other side of the room (i.e. technically through customs). I breathed a huge sigh of relief and settled into the metal benches in the waiting room, not really caring how long it took.
Thankfully the TV in the room was in good working condition and on a Russian sports channel; I got to wait long enough to watch the World Figure Skating Championships, 2 NBA games, European football, biathlon, and highlight reels. The guards, notably in charming sailor uniforms, brought me tea throughout the day and evening and even a dinner of fried fish, fresh from the Caspian (I hate fish but was so appreciative of their hospitality that I didn’t dare turn it down).
A ferry finally arrived at 8 pm and it took another 6 hours for all of the passengers and transport trucks to get through customs and board the boat, for a total of 15 hours waiting time. The cabin crew offered me a private room with a bathroom at no extra charge and without me even asking for it – a nice send-off from Turkmenistan. I fell asleep before the ferry even left the port.
April 1: Ferry to Baku (Azerbaijan)
The ferry took a comfortable 14 hours across the Caspian Sea and I thankfully had no problems with motion sickness. When I ventured outside of my room into the smoke-choked ‘lounge’ area, I was immediately taken in by some friendly young Azeris with whom I explored the top decks of the ferry (and subsequently got in trouble and sent back inside).
As we neared Baku, they disappeared into their rooms and later reemerged looking like entirely different people – the men decked out in tight Dolce & Gabbana shirts and the women in knee-high boots, short skirts, and makeup. It was clear that Azerbaijan, while still familiar enough as a former Soviet republic, would be markedly different from the Central Asian ‘Stans.
