06 Aug Almaty Traffic Jams
Almaty traffic jams
After days of desolate desert roads, the massive traffic jams of the city took us quite by surprise. Sarita was unfazed, having survives Abu Dhabi traffic, but for the rest of us, the lack of rules, painted lines, and the Will-named “hornstorms” cacophony.
It took us nearly an hour to navigate to the Holiday Inn where I used points to splurge on rooms for most of us, with the Italians opting for a pirate hotel in a more central location.
When we arrived at the hotel, the guard came rushing out to the gate to wave us off, but when I jumped out, introduced myself and told him I had reservations, he radioed for the manager to come out. This poor guy took one look at our dusty bus and dirty hippie inhabitants and started shaking his head. I the. Told him I’d made reservations online through intercontinental and that I had status with the hotel. Within a minute, he’d regained his composure enough to somewhat warmly welcome us to the hotel. I think every single employee came out to look at us, though!
After a good dinner we made it an early night to enjoy the wifi and a taste of civilization before returning to what Caroline calls “the savage life”.
The road north to our border crossing at Semey will be long, but these eastern Kaz roads can actually be called roads, considering they have paving, lines, and speeds consistent with actual travel.
Will and I talked a bit about route plans and days on the road this am, and he believes that the western route through Mongolia will take more than 10 days, cutting it dangerously close for or teammates who are flying out on the 20th from UB. This route is one never taken by larger vehicles, because the road conditions make travel unbelievably slow for less nimble vehicles like us. We’d been encouraged by the Adventurists to consider the Northern route instead, but we’d hoped to give it a try.
Now, after seeing the reality of how agonizingly slow the bad roads of Kazakhstan made us travel compared to smaller rally cars, we have reconsidered. Frankly, driving at 5mph for days on end is a recipe for madness, and we are all close enough to that place already.
One plus in considering the northern route is the chance to visit Irkusk and Lake Baikal before entering Mongolia. Always a dream of mine, it would make for a nice trade for the westernmost edge of the country.
Also, we’d all be able to finish the rally as a team, arriving in Ulan Baatar together. Otherwise Caroline, Stefano, Sarita, and Pietro would all have to face the difficult decision to leave us in order to make their return flights in time. This would leave but a skeleton crew to inch toward UB in the bus.
Another consideration is potential mechanical damage to the bus due to the terrible road conditions. We need the bus in good working order for the 10 day onward leg to Vladivostok, whereas all of the rally cars stop in UB, so can limp in with considerable damage, as Will and Tommy’s truck did last year.
Fortunately, the suggestion of this new plan was met with enthusiasm by our team, who can see the obvious advantage of getting to visit Lake Baikal and also arriving in UB in time to see a few sights before heading home.
Oh, and the roads turned to total crap. There are no good roads in this country. And three more police stops. The latest was a policeman who just waved us over to stop and began shouting “stroffa, stroffa” which Will says means bribe or fine. He said speeding first, and when Don said no way we could speed in the bus, he then walked to the front to show us that we did not have a proper front license plate. I coaxed him to the back, where Don showed him ours is only there. Then he latched onto that as a violation, pantomiming that rules were different in Kaz than in USA. Yeah no kidding, in USA the cops don’t shout at you for money when they pull you over! Anyway, he brought Don and I back to the police car, all the way I’m giving him my best constant talking talking talking. He gives Don’s license to the senior cop, and I also show him mine, telling him all about how I can drive the bus too, how much we love Kazakhstan, and that our bus came from America. Finally, as Don describes it, their enthusiasm for getting cash from us wanes in the face of my verbal onslaught of relentless cheerfulness and they simply waved us away. Another victory for aggressive American friendliness!
As the day wore on, the scenery became more breathtaking, with sweeping views of valleys and mountains on both sides of the road, and cooler temps as a bonus. About the end of the day, we had the best police interaction of the whole trip: a cop car racing past us with the lights and loudspeaker on, shouting “HELLO!!!” at us as he sped onward.