Partying with the Professor

A quick update from the East, we felt our Caspian crossing deserved a blog all of its own.  Firstly, we are delighted to share that we were once again reunited with our old friend Professor Gul.  The Professor ploughs the route between Baku and Turkmenbashi loaded with train cargo or trucks.  There may have been some subterfuge involved in securing him for our passage, complimenting the ticket officer at the port on what a fine ship he was and stalking his movements on the Marine Traffic website.  

Baku

Baku Old Town

The Maiden's Tower

The morning had started at 6am for the crew with a quick check on Marine Traffic, Gul was arriving into the old port, we leapt out of our beds to walk to the old port and greet his arrival.  Then took a taxi to the new port where the ticket office is, initially we were told a flat no, arms crossed in front of the body, there was no ship today for us.  Our forlorn faces could not disguise our disappointment.  Suddenly something changed, and there seemed a possibility there was a ship today.  It was with disbelief a few hours later we had tickets in hand.  There was a glint in the ticket lady’s eye when we asked which ship we would be on, she shrugged her shoulders and said “the Professor Gul of course, as you wanted”.

Baku Port

The ticket office of course!

By 1pm the group were all at the old port where Penelope awaited the customs officer.  The waiting began.  The hours ticked on and a sweepstake was made on our departure time, the optimistic betting between 8-9pm and the less so from 2-3am.  At 4pm we were on our way again to the new port where we would eventually load and depart from.  At 7pm the Bunkerovski “buggered offski” and Professor Gul arrived into port.  The group had their first glimpse and seemed a little unimpressed.  The rusty exterior, at first glance not dissimilar in looks from the Dagestan, belies the comparative luxury interior.

The waiting begins

Jackie enjoying her birthday at the port!

Sue, Anita & David picking white mulberries

The Dagistan - no thank you!

At least it has lifeboats...

The Bunkerovsik moves on

And in comes Professor Gul

Waiting at port

Jackie, Dave, Sue & Hels

Slowly does it

With the ship in port we could begin immigration formalities and one by one were called in to a small office where the immigration officer and his peli-case office stamped us out of Azerbaijan.  The cargo, thirty or so trucks containing frozen fruit, vegetables and meat, began to load, each container reversed in and then un-coupled. Darkness fell but things looked brighter, small vouchers issued earlier we had thought for a cup of coffee in fact entitled us to a three course meal in the canteen alongside the port workers.

Professor Gul ready for loading

Dinner time in the port canteen

 Big Dave delighted with the spread

It was finally our turn to board the ship, we climbed the steep, narrow metal stairs inside and along the deck to our cabins and private lounge.  We were to be the only passengers aboard the ship, apart from the crew.  It was noted that at 00:32 we set sail from Baku, watching the lights disappear slowly into the distance.  Ross won the sweepstake for his 00:49 guess.  Exhausted from the day we were soon horizontal in our cabins for a good night’s sleep on the calm seas.

Penelope on board and looking tiny beside the refrigerated cargo

Home sweet home

Goodbye Baku

The next day the captain indicated we should expect an early afternoon arrival into Turkmenbashi, land was even in sight.  There was an air of disappointment amongst the group who wouldn’t have minded spending a little longer on the private ship. 

Looking around we realised we were surrounded by an armada of tankers and other ships, the anchor rumbled out of its reel and down to the sea bed!  The president was in town, which means ships are not allowed in or out of port, and there is no indication of how long this situation might be for.  Towels went back down on the deck and the books came out.  A greasy chicken and chips from the ship’s kitchen for our first evening meal and then once the group had eaten their 24 hours worth of food and snacks the truck rations were brought out.  A cucumber, tomato and salami sandwich has never tasted so good.  Aside from sunbathing on the deck, napping in the cabins or reading in the newly found luxury velvet lounge, David an ex-engineer in the merchant navy blagged himself an official engine room tour.  Others had a more unofficial tour later on in the evening.

Please can we come in?

The bridge

David surveying the equipment

Anchor down!

Ships all around

David & Jackie find the quiet lounge

Rogs up in the crows nest

Sneaking out

Anita and Sue helping Tom work out on deck

Hels feels left out with no beard

Rogs, David & Tom

Crew successfully fishing from the ship

What you looking at?

Evening drinks turned into an amusing group court hearing.  With judge Tom ruling, assisted by Sue & Big Dave.  Heinous crimes were put forward, such as the McLean’s waking up too early, Jackie for eating all the cucumber, David for just being Welsh, Sue for refusing to marry a Georgian winemaker and the crew for not partaking in shots of Chacha.  Big Dave was not immune from the judge, he was charged with pronouncing the Georgian word for thank you Macklobar instead of Madlob.  Even Judge Tom was eventually brought before his own court, for the offence of wearing too short shorts and scratching inappropriately in public, he was duly charged with a large shot of Absinthe.  Enough punishments were issued to see off most of the bottle!

The court proceedings begin

Judge Tom reads out the charges

Jo-Ann is charged

Iain contests his charge

Maggie in the dock for being too polite

Judge Tom brought before his own court

The Offending, offensive shorts

The sun sets on another day on the Caspian

Time for the unofficial engine room tour

Hope the door doesn't close on us

Ooh I wonder if we can get some laundry done whilst we're here too?

Hels fixing something in the room where they fix things

We woke to another day on board with no idea when we might be moving, enforced relaxation.  The housekeeping lady was even persuaded to open a shower for us, hot showers no less!  At 4pm we heard the clang of the anchor being brought up and smoke appeared from the stacks.  It didn’t take long to get on the move and at 7pm we docked, at the third attempt.  A single tugboat had its work cut out stopping our 150 metres of ship being blown out of port each time we attempted to maneuver in.

Sunbathing on deck

Hels spying a way to escape overboard for a dip

This might be needed too

For twenty-four hours we had been officially nowhere.  Stamped out of Azerbaijan and not yet admitted into Turkmenistan, thankfully the entry process went smoothly and we finally belonged.  Just to take the shine off our showered, tanned and rested smug freshness we opted to spend the night at the port, otherwise risking a hefty fine for driving after 11pm and a struggle to find a bush camp in the dark.  We pitched tents in a corner of the car park at midnight.  Trains rumbling and clanging past on rails metres from where we slept, trucks being coupled and loaded onto our ship for the return trip and strong winds made sure to work in unison to keep us alert for much of the night.

Coming into port

Turkmenbashi port

Ross and Judy

The Gayrat does its best to nudge us in

Lining up the tracks

An un-glamorous camp for the night

Early departure the next morning

The bumy 600km road to Ashgabat

Even so, we do feel like we’ve had a holiday within a holiday, if you call overlanding a holiday that is, the last couple of days prove it is definitely also an adventure.