Sara – Page 25 – Nearly Neutral Travel

Banned Soviet art in Nukus

As we mentioned in our last post, Nukus didn’t exactly come highly recommended by the Lonely Planet. But we needed somewhere to break our journey through western Uzbekistan and to be honest, we were a little curious about how bad it could really be! We also read that it has a world-renowned collection of proscribed Soviet art on display at the Savitsky Museum.

Although you’ve probably gathered by now that neither art nor museums are our usual style, it seemed silly to miss the main thing that brings most visitors to the city (although still not a great deal of visitors – after all, it is 22 hours by train from the capital, Tashkent). In another departure from our usual style, we decided to hire a guide, since we are totally clueless about art and anticipated that otherwise we might just wander around blindly, occasionally uttering a perplexed, “Huh”. Ahmad did a great job of bringing the museum to life (and told us some good stories of his own, including the time that he sent Elon Musk a private message to say that he would help him launch Starlink!)

In general, we were surprised how few paintings were openly critical of the Soviet Union, yet had still been banned. This picture was an exception, mocking elements of capitalism (top half) and socialism (bottom half), and was cut in two by the painter when he was released from prison to avoid further persecution. The print underneath showed the original painting, including the bottom half.

Igor Savitsky was a man on a mission. A painter himself, he had travelled to Karakalpakstan in the 1950s as part of an archeological and ethnographic expedition and came across many avant-garde artworks hidden away because they didn’t conform to the socialist realism style that was all but required by the state in the 1930s. Determined to save them, he dedicated (and risked) his life to amassing a huge collection of more than 82,000 pieces and giving them a safe home. Apparently, only 5% of these are on display at any one time, and that’s when both buildings are open (one was closed for renovation when we visited – a bit of an ongoing theme in Uzbekistan).

The collection doesn’t just include paintings, but all sorts of other Karakalpak artefacts from textiles, jewellery and ceramics to Zoroastrian ossuaries (below right). I had a bit of a shock when Ahmad explained to us that the red outfit (below left) would have been worn by young women, and the white outfit by elderly women aged over 40. When I tried to clarify if this really meant that I would become an elderly woman the day after my 40th birthday, he unapologetically agreed that yes, this would indeed be the case!

Despite this shock, we really enjoyed Ahmad’s humorous and accessible style – he described the painting below of animals at a water trough as an ancient gas station.

The painting below apparently depicts the different stages of drinking – in case you didn’t guess, it was around about now that Ahmad produced his story about Elon Musk…

I loved this painting – it is a family portrait by Serekeev Bazarbay. The baby in the centre is the daughter of the painter and now works at the museum – how cool to have a family portrait on display where you work! Apparently she sometimes does tours and people never believe her when she says, “That’s me!”

Ahmad told us at the start of his tour that he would point out his favourites when we got to them (having been brutally honest about some others of which he wasn’t a fan!) and brought us to this collection of paintings of the Aral Sea. Due to a combination of poor land management (for instance, diverting water to grow cotton in Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan, countries that have poorly suited climates) and climate change, the Aral Sea has all but dried up. For a combination of reasons (time, distance, not wanting to gawp at others’ misfortune), we’d decided not to visit Moynaq, but we’d seen plenty of pictures of ships beached in arid desert (in fact, I think it’s shown on Race Across the World). It has been described as one of the biggest environmental disasters of all time, and seeing these paintings of such a thriving fishing town really brought home what a catastrophe this was. Apparently these two painters, who had devoted their lives to painting the Aral Sea, stayed in town after it had retreated and each poured a container of water on the dry sea bed every day as a symbol of their hopes that it would return.

On a happier note, these were some of my favourite paintings and really got me excited for the Silk Road cities that lay ahead.

Overall, Nukus was a pleasant enough city and not at all deserving of Lonely Planet’s searingly disparaging description – I wonder whether the authors have visited many grim British towns as they could definitely give it a run for its money! We did read that there had been some sprucing up in recent years to help shake off Nukus’ reputation, so this might explain it.

It was time for us to head east towards our next stop in Uzbekistan. We did this via one of the most chaotic transport interchanges I have ever experienced (and I see myself as a bit of a connoisseur!), the marshrutka station at Nukus’ main bazaar. This is a view of it from above, but it does little to convey the sheer chaos that was unfolding below.

There’s something really humorous about seeing these tiny minivans zipping about everywhere – they are driven so aggressively, almost as if to counter their cute appearance. Oli is a big fan!

By some small miracle, we managed to cram ourselves onto the correct marshrutka and were on our way to the Silk Road city of Khiva.

From one Stan to another (Kazakhstan to Uzbekistan)

Aktau is a city in the far western reaches of Kazakhstan, a long, long way from anything else. It is on the coast and is where our ship would have docked, had we been able to stick to our original plan of crossing the Caspian Sea, so it was an obvious place to pick up our overland route and begin our Central Asian adventure. We landed right in the middle of the night and finally got to bed at about 5.30am – we are way too old for this kind of thing! We’d chosen to stay in our first proper international hotel of our trip and it was a real treat to have a couple of days of predictably bland decor, breakfast buffets and American-style customer service. Obviously, the novelty of this would have worn off very quickly but we enjoyed it while it lasted!

After a very long sleep to recover from our night time adventures, we ventured out just before dusk to walk along the coast and see the statues and monuments that are an essential part of every Soviet-era city.

I loved these huge murals on the side of the apartment blocks. Elsewhere in the city there are more that depict Kazakh “national fathers”, but these ones were much more visually interesting.

Aktau’s main reasons for existence are uranium, oil and gas, and there’s not a lot in the way of tourist sites (other than its beach, which was a bit bleak at this time of year – I’d be curious to know how different the atmosphere is in the summer).

However, we did read about Koshkar Ata, a necropolis in a village in the desert not too far outside the city, so we decided to check it out. The below is what we could see from Google satellite view when planning our excursion – it covered a huge area and certainly piqued our interest!

We had to take a taxi (there’s not a lot of public transport in the desert) and our driver was incredulous that we wanted to visit an area that he said was just a couple of graves with nothing to see. I think the chap at the hotel reception thought the same but hid it rather better (IHG service standards, after all)! If anything, this made us want to visit even more. I love this about travel – things differ so much across the world that one person’s boring graveyard is another person’s exciting expedition.

When we arrived, it didn’t disappoint. The necropolis stretched further than we could see and was filled with endless sand-coloured mausoleums of all shapes and sizes. It was like a miniature city (which makes sense really, given that necropolis literally translates as city of the dead).

We were interested to discover that in the vast majority of mausoleums, even when the exterior was large and ornate, the interior contained a very simple grave marked by a pile of earth and plain headstones and footstones.

Of the hundreds we saw, the below was the only one that had a highly decorated interior. The exterior wasn’t more grand than others – just somehow different, but sadly we could only speculate as to why.

Overall, we liked Aktau way more than we expected and probably more than was justified – it somehow felt both very modern but also right at the end of the road. It was definitely an interesting place to spend a couple of days and we ate some decent food while we were there (including at yet another Georgian restaurant – I think we have problem).

Our next move was into Uzbekistan by train (we’ll return to Kazakhstan later), and so we headed to the station to begin a marathon 26-hour journey. We boarded at about 15.30 and got settled in our second class compartment, and the train departed as scheduled at 16.18 on the dot.

We’d read that the best strategy was to try to sleep straight away, and so we followed the lead of our compartment buddies who made up their beds soon after they boarded. Admittedly, it was a rather early night, but this was important for later! We woke up to have a Big Bon Max (pot noodle) each for dinner, filling them from the samovar at the end of the carriage, and then went back to sleep until we arrived at Beyneu around midnight.

We managed to snag seats in a crowded waiting room, and Oli went off to buy some much-needed chocolate bars and more Big Bons (sadly not Big Bon Max this time – perhaps their tagline could be, “Just as uninspiring, but in a smaller package”) for lunch the next day. He reported back that there was a proper party atmosphere on the platform, with music and dancing, but when I went out to investigate there was nothing happening so I assume he was just delirious…

Eventually, we boarded our second train, which would cross the border into Uzbekistan and then head towards Nukus, a city in the Republic of Karakalpakstan in the remote west of the country. The border formalities started almost immediately and continued until it was light outside, when we could finally settle down to get some sleep. This was a bit tricky as we were in the open sleepers of third class, and there was near-constant chaos. The ladies seated next to us were in hysterical giggles almost the whole way and it was pretty infectious so it wasn’t all misery, though. When it was my turn to speak to the border guard at the end of the carriage, they took great delight in conducting their own interrogation of Oli about our relationship and broke out into more giggles when they found out we were a couple. When I returned, they didn’t want to speak to me – they’d already got all the goss they needed from Oli!

Our second class compartment on the Aktau – Beyneu train had had probably the comfiest beds we’ve ever had on a train, and this only served as a reminder of quite how big a difference there was between second and third class! Our new beds were much smaller and lumpier (and most sad of all, much grubbier), and Oli’s feet kept poking out into the aisle, ready to be bumped by the incessant stream of people wandering up and down the train. These included three little girls in adorable matching pyjamas and two ladies who had boarded shortly after the border and were selling clothes and toys on the train. They chose our compartment to store (and regularly unpack and re-pack) their wares, and at one point I woke to find they were keeping things on my feet as I slept!

We spent basically the entire 15 hours baffled at what was going on around us, but it did serve as excellent entertainment as we rolled past mile after mile of dry, featureless desert.

Eventually, at around 18.00 on the day after we set off, we drew into Nukus, described promisingly by the Lonely Planet as, “one of Uzbekistan’s least appealing cities”. We were ready, as they put it, to sample the “general sense of hopelessness and desolation”. Lovely!

Falling in love with Yerevan

We’d read lots of nice things about Yerevan and it’s been on my to-visit list for a while, but I was still a bit surprised to find that it turned out to be one of those rare places we’ve visited where we both agreed that we could happily live.

We arrived from Dilijan on our wedding anniversary without any firm plans but with a few restaurants in mind for a fancier-than-usual dinner that evening, and immediately found out that even Monday evenings in Yerevan are lively! We eventually found a table at Abovyan 12, another excellent recommendation from our Tbilisi – Yerevan train friends, and proceeded to order half the menu. I was pretty confident we could handle it all until the waiter finished writing down our order and then asked whether we were expecting anyone to join us. Whoops! Anyway, it was a really nice meal and we washed it down with a bottle of pomegranate wine, an Armenian speciality.

The next day, we set out to explore the Cascade complex, a rather unusual area of central Yerevan that combines an enormous flight of 750 steps, terraced fountains, and an underground art gallery. Dotted around the whole complex are a huge number of art installations, and from the top there is a panoramic view of Yerevan, and on a clear day, across to Mount Ararat. In typical style, we didn’t make it to the top until fairly late in the day, and the afternoon haze meant we could only see a faint outline of the mountain. Still, it was an excellent view and a fun area to explore.

We spent the rest of the day walking around central Yerevan and appreciating the beautiful rose-coloured stone from which much of the city is built.

At one point, we found ourselves in the English Park. We’re still not quite sure what gave it its name (confusingly, it is sandwiched between the French and Italian Embassies) but I did lose Oli for a minute…

On our second full day, our main agenda item was to visit the Armenian Genocide Museum and Memorial, which sits on a hill overlooking the city. We spent a sobering few hours learning about the events of 1915, the historical context that lead up to the atrocities, and the events following. It was truly horrendous and there are many lessons that we still need to learn today. Like visiting other similar museums and memorials around the world, it didn’t make for a fun morning, but it did feel like a very important part of understanding Armenia and we were glad that we had taken the time to visit.

Anticipating that we would need some mood repair, Oli had planned a very different activity for the afternoon, and so we made our way to the Yerevan Brandy Company for a tour and tasting. Planned is actually quite a strong word, since it turned out that we should have booked online, but thankfully the staff took pity on our sad little faces when they told us this and managed to squeeze us onto a tour.

The company have pledged to open this barrel only when the Nagorno-Karabakh dispute (with Azerbaijan) is resolved peacefully

The tour itself was super slick and I really enjoyed it, but everyone knows these kinds of attractions are all about the tasting, so imagine my alarm when I discovered that I really, really don’t like neat brandy! I think Oli was ashamed to be seen with me and quickly finished off my glasses as well as his own.

Our flight to Aktau was departing after midnight so we had lots of time to kill on our third day. We began at the Blue Mosque, Armenia’s only remaining mosque. We’d read that neighbouring Iran has been given access to restore and run the mosque, and in a reciprocal arrangement, Armenia has been able to restore several churches that sit on Iranian soil. We were welcomed warmly and even met a couple of resident cats in the beautiful garden courtyard.

After a lunch of Georgian khinkali (we just can’t get enough), we headed on a walk through the Kond Pedestrian Tunnel to reach the Hrazdan Gorge. Based on what we’d read, we were expecting lots of couples out for romantic strolls, but actually it was just quite dodgy! It was very dimly lit, the sides of the tunnel were bowing slightly and there were some small areas where it had actually caved in – I was very pleased to get out the other side.

Once again, Yerevan surprised us here. As well as the rushing river and autumnal trees in the gorge, we came across the Children’s Railway, a miniature station building, trains and track that were built in Soviet times to allow children to learn about engineering. Like many things in Armenia, it embodied faded grandeur (or maybe in this case, more like faded fun) and was in need of some love. But still, it was an amazingly inventive facility and apparently is still in use during the summer months, despite being a little rough round the edges. We certainly had a great time nosing around the train carriages, admiring the bird-themed stained glass windows in the station building and wandering along the track.

Finally, after some drinks and dinner at the lovely Mirzoyan Library and some time watching the dancing fountains in Republic Square, we reluctantly headed to the airport (we genuinely were not very enthusiastic about the thought of flying after a relaxed few months on ground transport).

Joining the ranks of stupid things that formerly frequent flyers have done at airport security post-Covid (I’ve heard a few good stories from people), Oli unintentionally brought through a Swiss army knife AND a full picnic cutlery set in his hand baggage. The security staff were not impressed (unsurprisingly) but somehow in the end didn’t confiscate them! I can’t say this gave me much confidence for what else people might have been able to bring onto the flight…

Luckily, as you can probably guess, we lived to tell the tale and were very excited to be off to Central Asia! First stop: Aktau, Kazakhstan.