What’s the quintessential sound of Kazakhstan? Trains!
Like distant howling caterpillars, Kazakh trains bravely tackle enormous distances throughout this sparsely inhabited country. Trains transporting people, of course, but more importantly oil and gas for thirsty cars and trucks.
Soon after passing the Russia-Kazakhstan border at Kotyaevka, trains will cross your path, mostly at a serious distance that makes them appear as segmented crawling creatures. Consisting of up to 80 wagons, many of them must be nearly 1,6 km long. And, although their speed is low, they’re heading faster than any overlander on the road to Aktau or Beyneu.
A distant howling caterpillar – Southwestern Kazakhstan
In many parts of Kazakhstan, trains and planes are the only ones that cover distance in a somewhat linear fashion. Cars are often in search of the least unfavourable of many options, driving the illusion of being able to avoid the worst potholes or bumps on what in theory should have been a straight road. This was certainly my experience between Beyneu and Nukus, and from Taldiqorgan to Öskemen. The big frustration is that the track you didn’t choose, always seems somewhat less potholey than the one you’re on.
Being perseverant is an overlander’s duty. In Kazakhstan one manages to tackle enormous distances while greeting camels on both sides of the road, or being delighted by herds of grazing horses in vast plains without fences. Yes, the absence of fences is a real pleasure for the eye and the mind. Overlooking these distant views feeds the feeling of freedom. In Kazakhstan, it’s clear that one has entered the land of nomads. The spirit of Central Asia draws ever closer. Although a modern Kazakhstani lives in a house or an apartment, one can feel the history of this region’s nomadic past by reading the landscape. Take the cemeteries for instance, lonely and scattered all over the plains. They are proof of a people that once didn’t live in real settlements, like villages or cities. Home was nothing else than the land in its totality.
Requiescat in pacem. But, where’s the cemetery? – Southwestern Kazakhstan
As an overlander, it’s always inviting to convince yourself you’re a nomad as well. In a Daily 4×4, the height of your seat is somewhat similar to riding on horseback. Under the bonnet a herd of horsepower is driving you forward. Furthermore, the amount of wheels on the ground is similar to a horse’s hoofs. But, I admit, on the level of nomadic existence I sometimes feel like a rookie. Even a coward. Especially when I see people riding real horses, disappearing towards an endless horizon.
Several thousands of kilometers further, soon after leaving Almaty, we enjoy the flawless tarmac heading north to Öskemen. While the land slopes softly, we once again enjoy the feeling of endlessness in the ever changing colours of the setting sun. We find a perfect overnight spot between sturdy grasses and bushes, a few kilometers off the highway in the noise shadow of the road. There are large and far too intrigued mosquitoes everywhere. It’s hot and somewhat difficult to fall asleep. I spent a substantial part of the night listening to distant trains and the subtle changing rhythms of thundering heavy metal.
Heavy metal north of Almaty – Kazakhstan