Heading to Hamburg tomorrow to paint the walls of Club Ego - thanks to Mr T.
Wednesday, 27 July 2011
Unknown Fields Division: Aral Sea to Baikonur
We get a call, Baikonur the Russian Space Centre built to service the space industry calls us that a un-maned satellite rocket launch will take place at 8 am the next day and did we want to see it. Jumping straight back onto the coach after the 33 hr train ride from Almaty overnight across the moon like surface of the Kazak desert to the Baikonur launch pad and witnessed the jet rocket named Spekta 2 launch. Initially you see the smoke blast from the rocket silently, this is quickly followed by a gigantic roar, all cackling soundwave streams washing over and past you whilst the rocket soared and curved away. The non believers were left jaw dropping.
Unknown Fields Division: Almaty - Aral Sea
Overnight flight delayed which meant by the time we arrived in Almaty at dawn we had missed our train connection - a 33 hr ride across the Kazakhstan desert to the Aral Sea. Plan get a cab to the next station and try and catch up the train. After waiting nervously for our bags at the airport which seemed to take forever we sped off in the cabs at full speed. Kazak roads are a death trap - narrowly avoiding a dead animal, x 2 over taking coaches and countless other near misses whilst our driver had to pump the air in the tyres and take a leak. Result: we missed the train and had to wait 8 hours for the next. The subsequent ride was smooth, the pace of the train just right letting the track noise slowly shake you into a deep slumber after some ice cold soda's in the buffet car.
Finally getting to the washed out planes of the Aral Sea, the sea now long gone after being continuously drained for the past 20 years to service the cotton fields. Dreams of a forgotten past now hang from the fishing boats on dry dock as we look out on what should been the harbour busy with boats and action.
Finally getting to the washed out planes of the Aral Sea, the sea now long gone after being continuously drained for the past 20 years to service the cotton fields. Dreams of a forgotten past now hang from the fishing boats on dry dock as we look out on what should been the harbour busy with boats and action.
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