KRASNOVODSK. 169 



day following we were disembarking on the landing- 

 stage at Krasnovodsk, the point of departure of the 

 Transcaspian railway, with whose clean-looking white 

 houses, pretentious railway - station, and forbidding 

 setting of bare brown hills previous wanderings had 

 made me familiar. There is no cause to envy any one 

 whose fate dictates a sojourn at Krasnovodsk. Just as 

 oil is the raison d'etre of Baku, so the necessity for 

 the Transcaspian railway having a starting-point some- 

 where is alone responsible for the existence of Krasno- 

 vodsk. They have another point in common — namely, 

 entire absence of fresh water, and in both towns the 

 whole population is supplied from a huge distillery. 

 Of course, there is not a blade of grass or sign of vege- 

 tation of any sort, while it would be difficult to imagine 

 a spot into which the noonday rays could beat down 

 with greater fury, or where you could receive a more 

 vivid impression of a land parched and stricken by the 

 sun. If, as is commonly reported, you can cook eggs 

 by merely laying them on the sands of Baluchistan, 

 you should find no difficulty in frying bacon on the 

 pavements of Krasnovodsk ! 



Towards evening the white carriages of the train, so 

 soon about to start on its wonderful journey, drew up 

 alongside the platform, and a short inspection revealed 

 the fact that innovations had lately been made. Until 

 quite recently there were no first-class carriages on the 

 line, and loud have been the complaints by travellers of 

 the inconveniences they have suffered. Now, however, 

 I found a first-class carriage and restaurant car attached, 

 and as we steamed out of the station punctually at five 

 o'clock everything promised well for a comfortable jour- 

 ney. The blue waters of the Caspian remained in 

 sight till dark, and then we turned east and held our 

 way steadfastly for the heart of Asia. 



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