Azerbaijan > Finally Turkmenistan

During the night, there is movement on the Berkarar. I feel the engines vibrating and the water swaying. We are crossing the Caspian Sea. The next morning, land comes into view. This time, it is indeed Turkmenistan. The drivers also look pleased at the sight of the coast. Their mood changes when they hear the anchor. "Not good," says one of them. There is still no space in the port. We will probably have to wait another four hours before we can enter. In the afternoon, the engines are finally started. Will we still reach Turkmenbashi today? The ferry enters the harbor agonizingly slowly. It seems quite shallow. The Berkarar backs in, assisted by a pilot boat. Perhaps the "waiting" onboard was meant to get us used to Turkmenistan. Even now, everything proceeds extremely slowly. To get our passports back, we first have to pay a fee for the bridge. This seems to be some kind of port tax. With our passport and proof of payment, we go to the hold. However, the hatch is still tightly closed. It’s not clear why it won’t open—probably everyone must first pay their port tax. When the ferry hatch finally opens, it is already nearly nine o’clock. The first customs officer seems a little nervous. A car is arranged, which we must follow. We drive across the port area, with no idea where we are going. After a few minutes, we reach the customs building. Here, we also see other passengers waiting without their own transport.

Azerbaijan - A camel on the road in the Turkmen desert

For some unclear reason, we are allowed to go first. We start with the passport control. "Welcome to Turkmenistan," says the officer kindly. “Do you have a visa?” Then we have to pay $14 at the window next door. Back to passport control for the stamp. Booth number four is for the car. The man struggles to fill out the registration form. Corrections must be made on all carbon copies with white-out. I think I understand that we are paying some kind of road tax and a price per kilometer. Fuel is subsidized in Turkmenistan. Tourists pay a surcharge based on the planned route. The amount runs over a hundred dollars. Meanwhile, Chamrat, our guide from Stantours, comes in. With his help, the form is completed. Then a stamp in the little room on the left, and another in the room on the right. At the payment window, I pay $125 as step seven. Back to the registration officer. He refers me to customs. Customs fills out a new form for the car. Then, step ten, I have to pay four Manat for the territory. Chamrat fronts the money. Back to customs. Customs refers us to passport control. They refer us back. It turns out there is still one window I haven’t been to. Here, all my documents are stamped again. "Finished," says an officer laughing. Now only the registration at baggage control remains—step fifteen. All the booths and windows are maddening. The baggage check is still something of an ordeal. Many suitcases have to be opened. If we had to take everything out of the car, it would take several more hours. The man at the checkpoint only registers the car and the number of people. He does not talk about checking. I seem to be finished. Chamrat gestures for me to quickly drive the car to the other side. Unfortunately, I must stop again. The motorcycles and the car are still being inspected. It seems as if all the officers come outside. Most are just curious. A few boxes must be opened, with explanations about the tent and the jerrycans. The ritual at the border is almost always the same. The same questions are asked every time. Then, at last, it seems we are allowed into the country. At the gate, the guard checks our passports as the seventeenth step. "Welcome to Turkmenistan," he says as he opens the gate. It is now past midnight. We follow Chamrat to the hotel. The restaurant and bar are already closed. We haven’t eaten anything since the afternoon. With some muesli bars, I go to bed.