We left the boarder in the middle of green mountains that we desc 
ndues up the great plain of Central Asia. Turkmenistan has made a vast flat expanse of desert and oasis in which 4 cities were built. 4.5 million people are living above a gas reserve of the largest in the world. The population is a mix of Turkmen, big brown eyes a little flanges, and the blond Russian low-rise jeans and belly button looks.
The only city that deserves attention is the delusional Ashgabat city dedicated to the glorification of the dictator designer, who died in recent months but still very present 
. The city is spread over several kilometers but seems empty part of the population. Avenues still wider and still few cars. They are lined with huge neoclassical palace covered with plates of white marble and gold, before which enthroned \\ portrait or a huge golden statue of Niyazov. The moments of the cities are tricks to the glory of the dictator on which gigantic statues representing the open arms to the people.
Nevertheless, urban planning seems to have been thought Wide tree-lined avenues, large squares, multiple parks, unity in the architecture. Unfortunately, beyond the glorification of the dictator ideuse, Ashgabat is a city in poor taste and seems hopelessly empty. But who knows, maybe in a thousand years, Ashgabat will be considered one of the masterpieces of the 21th century.
power keeps wages very low despite the country's wealth m
ais consumer goods do not cost anything. Full of gasoline costs $ 2 a loaf, a Coke cost 5 hundred a meal 1 or $ 2. The Turkmen live decently and easily but can not leave their country. A taxi to 300 km costs 15 dollars, it is collective 5. Only hotels appear to be relatively expensive.
2 large columns framing the entrance to my hotel. The spacious lobby kept the charm of a more glorious past with its immense staircase. Reception held by a large Russian too Masked hands curled in rings too was only a small counter which exceeded this old blonde head and unpleasant. On the first floor, another Russian voluble but equally large, the curlers in horses accompanied me up to my room, huge. The lights were not working when they were still standing, dirty and broken beds, the bathrooms with a shower without water and without a sink faucet, all covered with dirt and Tatra. The toillettes not working more. But all retained a certain charm of the Soviet empire collapsed.
. The city is spread over several kilometers but seems empty part of the population. Avenues still wider and still few cars. They are lined with huge neoclassical palace covered with plates of white marble and gold, before which enthroned \\ portrait or a huge golden statue of Niyazov. The moments of the cities are tricks to the glory of the dictator on which gigantic statues representing the open arms to the people. Nevertheless, urban planning seems to have been thought Wide tree-lined avenues, large squares, multiple parks, unity in the architecture. Unfortunately, beyond the glorification of the dictator ideuse, Ashgabat is a city in poor taste and seems hopelessly empty. But who knows, maybe in a thousand years, Ashgabat will be considered one of the masterpieces of the 21th century.
power keeps wages very low despite the country's wealth m
ais consumer goods do not cost anything. Full of gasoline costs $ 2 a loaf, a Coke cost 5 hundred a meal 1 or $ 2. The Turkmen live decently and easily but can not leave their country. A taxi to 300 km costs 15 dollars, it is collective 5. Only hotels appear to be relatively expensive. 2 large columns framing the entrance to my hotel. The spacious lobby kept the charm of a more glorious past with its immense staircase. Reception held by a large Russian too Masked hands curled in rings too was only a small counter which exceeded this old blonde head and unpleasant. On the first floor, another Russian voluble but equally large, the curlers in horses accompanied me up to my room, huge. The lights were not working when they were still standing, dirty and broken beds, the bathrooms with a shower without water and without a sink faucet, all covered with dirt and Tatra. The toillettes not working more. But all retained a certain charm of the Soviet empire collapsed.
After 24 hours in this crazy city, I went to Mary, sad and ugly city, built by the Soviet years the 60s. The place was too murky to spend a night, so I negotiated with a taxi to go to the border by making a stop in Merv, the price of taxi is cheaper than a hotel room glaucous.
off I went to Uzbekistan. 
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