Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
not live up to its hotel namesake, but Rus-
sian pop music and friendly staff at least
keep it down-to-earth. There's a menu dom-
inated by Russian 'classics' and there's even
a form of espresso available.
Mona¨Lisa¨
CAUCASiAN $$
(gharezsizlik 107; 4500-12,000S;
h
11am-11pm;
E
)
While Mona Lisa may be quite low on
atmosphere, its menu is far more interest-
ing than the standard dishes offered by the
nearby Uzbek cafes, and includes Caucasian
specialities such as
fidzhin
(Ossetian meat
pies) and Georgian stews. Don't come to
eat in a hurry though, but do check out the
'fine for crashed things' section of the menu
while you wait.
Bes¨Qala¨
UZBeK $$
(gharezsizlik; mains 8000-20,000S;
h
11am-11pm)
A welcome addition to the eating scene in
Nukus, this echoey place is divided into two
large, wood-upholstered dining halls, and is
often in use for the celebration of local wed-
dings. When it's not, it's a good place to try
a large selection of Uzbek, Karakalpak and
Russian dishes.
8
Information
There are plenty of black-market money chang-
ers near the entrance to the bazaar. Two good
A¨VISIT¨TO¨THE¨ARAL¨SEA
Catching a glimpse of the notorious Aral Sea's new southern shoreline holds no small
amount of appeal for adventurous travellers. The favoured route these days is traight
north from Moynaq. It's essential to go with an experienced driver with intimate knowl-
edge of the tracks heading north from Moynaq and Kungrad.
We drove wet for awhile along the sea's former shoreline and then set out across the
dried-up sea bed, where oil reineries belched ire and black smoke in an eerie scene
reminiscent of a
Mad Max
movie. After half-an-hour we left the smoketacks behind and
entered the heart of the Aral Sea bed. The part we were traversing had been dry for so
long that already a foret of sage brush had sprouted. Then the foliage petered out, and
we entered a land of interminable salt lats receding into mirages in every direction.
In front of us loomed the Utyurt Plateau, tretching into Kazakhtan to the north and
all the way to the Caspian Sea to the wet. We had a picnic lunch in the shadow of clifs
that once abutted the wetern border of the Aral Sea, before ascending to the top of the
plateau. There wasn't much up there, although it's said to be prime grounds for hunting
boar, fowl and rare Saiga antelope. Our drivers picked out their route then sped across
the top of the plateau, often at breakneck speeds. After about 45 minutes an intensely
blue slick appeared on the horizon. It was our irt sighting of the Aral Sea. Againt the
barren backdrop of the dried-up sea bed and the rocky Utyurt Plateau it looked pro-
foundly beautiful, all the more so for what it represented - the futility of man's attempts
to subjugate nature.
An hour later we drew level with the water's edge. Here, recently exposed bits of sea
bed were rendered in various shades of grey. The bits closet to the water were the dark-
et. They till glitened, like mudlats exposed by low tide, only in this case the low tide
was eternal. The mud would soon dry up and crack. In a few years it might sprout sage
brush and draw oil prospectors. Thus was the future of the South Aral Sea.
Watching the Aral Sea recede before our eyes was moving and depressing. We rode
in silence for another 45 minutes before descending to our campsite near the water's
edge. It had taken us about ive hours to get out here from Moynaq (including many
tops), and it was already getting chilly. Only two of us remained committed to swim-
ming. To do so required wading through 50 metres of knee-deep muck before the
water became deep enough to submerge. It proved worth the slog. The water was salty
enough to suspend a brick. We lay lat on our backs without moving a muscle, buoyant
as corks.
That night we were treated to a tunning harvet-moonrise over the Aral. Conversa-
tion, vodka, a huge meal, and a cold, retless night of sleep in a camoulaged tent fol-
lowed. The next morning I departed about as satisied as one could be with an organised
tour, armed with the following painfully obvious advice: see it while you till can.
Greg Bloom, Lonely Planet author
