At Mangystau, our first two days were thrilling. The third added a delightful coda: a mosque carved through stone, a creamy canyon, and an explosive finish.
Day 3 Western Mangystau
We awoke to a brilliant sun, little wind, a bevy of white swans on the edge of the Caspian Sea, but no water available at the visitor center where we spent the night.
We had done the east and the north. It was time to head to the westernmost part of Mangystau, a large peninsula jutting into the Caspian.
Our first treat was a drive through another thrilling section of the Kampamsay canyon, which we had considered for camping on day 2. But, to start, we ventured inside the rock of the canyon walls to visit Shakpak Ata, a 14th and 15th century mosque carved all the way through a narrow limestone arm of the canyon. It dates from the time of the Golden Horde out of Mongolia, the main cultural origin for the Khazak people.
A set of four chambers issued from a central hall virtually “supported” by ornate columns, with walls replete with graffiti – drawings of animals, hunters, and other figures. The central hall also featured an open dome, carved from its roof for light.
Continuing on the rough road through the canyon, we were treated to other formations of mesas, including slices of varied colors alternating with the shining white chalk.
One ridge rose out of a whipped cream effusion of white stone.
At the end, we climbed at last to a flat top, where troughs offered water for camels, and enjoyed a splendid view over what we had just traversed.
Crossing hours of scrub-strewn plains for our last stop, we kept on westward to a rocky shore of the Caspian. There we found one of the strangest sites of the trip, Cape Zhigyigan. A vision of chaos, the vast bowl before us comprised a jumble of rock formations and strata, as if a huge explosion had broken the mountain there, upheaving mesas at myriad angles.
It was quite a spot to enjoy our last meal with Daniel, a reprise of his toasted bread, hummus, cheese, cucumber and tomato. We shared the large open shelter with three generations of a local family, who were excited to meet us…and learn that Barry was from Boston, the name on the young boy’s cap.
From there, it was an easy drive back to Aktau on mostly asphalt roads, the finish of some 2000 kilometers of tough driving. Our hotel had somehow stored our left luggage in a room that the current staff couldn’t figure out, but a joint treasure hunt finally uncovered our goods.
We said farewell to Daniel, affirming how thrilled we were with our experience, with so much extraordinary scenery and birds to see. The car proudly displayed the mud-spatters we had gathered on the rutted roads in three days, as we took a final photo.
We were more than ready for a hot shower, a bit of relaxing, and the task of repacking for our flight out of Aktau and the wondrous Mangystau.
For more posts from Kazakhstan (including Days 1 and 2 in Mangystau), click here. For more posts from Asia, click here.