Turkmenistan

Coming from Iran, with it’s simple houses and narrow streets full of life, Turkmenistans capital, Ashgabat caught me off guard. Monumental buildings, all with facades of white marble and gold, wide boulevards and parks with fountains everywhere. The roads almost empty, except for white cars (only white cars), police, soldiers and gardeners. Everything is a world record: the largest single dome mosque, the largest total surface of white marble facades, the most fountains, … Taking pictures is not permitted in most areas. I stayed for two days, couchsurfing and meeting both expats and locals.

On my third day in Turkmenistan I arrived at Darvaza. By the time I got there it was starting to get dark. After saying goodbye to the turkmens I shared the car with (and food, of course) I was sent on my way with biting gestures – warning me of some kind of desert animal. I started my two hour walk through the desert towards the gate to hell, the sun playing its last fading colors on the vast horizon, my mind reciting a poem by Dylan Thomas: Do not go gentle into that good night. 

The night slowly swallowed the sunset, making space for an abundancy of stars. Unexpectedly, on the edge of the pitch black dome, a faint rest of the sunset remained. I realised it was not the sunset but the distant glow of the burning crater pulling me in it’s direction.

And then, as I got closer and the glow grew brighter, the stars, one by one, returned into hiding. I was welcomed by a warm wind. And then I stopped, at its edge and looked down into the burning flames of hell inside the darvaza gas crater.