Robbins - In Search of Kazakhstan: the Land that Disappeared

A welcome antidote to the made-up world of Borat The Times

Fascinating Daily Mail

Beguiling Reveals an extraordinary land and amazing culture Observer

Displays both a sure and light touch Daily Express

A fascinating read extremely entertaining and informative hilarious poignant rich and diverting Daily Telegraph

Robbins lucid prose won my confidence hes terrific company Guardian

Breezy but intelligent an insightful introduction to a country rich in history and beauty Steppe Magazine

Robbins proves a likeable and empathetic narrator Times Literary Supplement

A superb piece of travel writing a reminder that, in an age when travel writers go for gimmicks and gags, there is still no substitute for fine writing, detailed research and a carefully considered emotional and intellectual response to the country Sydney Morning Herald, Australia

Captures the tolerance and the resilience of the dignified Kazakhs with great empathy. One of the finest travel books of the year Sun-Herald, Australia

Press acclaim for The Empress of Ireland

Endlessly funny and brilliantly colourful. Something of a masterpiece, in fact. Simon Callow, Guardian

Funny, shrewd, absurd and somehow moving it is a classic of its kind. William Boyd, Daily Telegraph

Both moving and genuinely hilarious. I laughed out loud. Gyles Brandreth, Sunday Telegraph

A beautifully written memoir William Shawcross, Sunday Telegraph

A delightful and often hilariously funny memoir also an endearing rites-of-passage book sparkling. Craig Brown, Mail on Sunday

Deserves to become a classic Christopher Silvester, Sunday Times

CHRISTOPHER ROBBINS is the author of Assassin, a non-fiction book on political assassination, two non-fiction books on the Vietnam War, Air America and The Ravens, and the biography of the war hero, Nazi hunter and language teacher, Michel Thomas, The Test of Courage. His most recent book, The Empress of Ireland, is a memoir of his friendship with the Irish film director, Brian Desmond Hurst. Empress received wide critical acclaim, was chosen as the Film Book of the Year by the Cork Film Festival, awarded the Saga Prize for Wit in 2005 and picked as a Book of the Year by the The Times, Guardian, Daily Telegraph, Sunday Telegraph, Daily Express, Observer and Sunday Times.

THE LAND THAT DISAPPEARED

CHRISTOPHER ROBBINS

Text illustrations and map by Bob Gale
Cover design by Jonny Hannah

This paperback edition published in 2008

First published in Great Britain in 2007 by
Profile Books Ltd
3A Exmouth House
Pine Street
Exmouth Market
London EC1R 0JH
www.profilebooks.com

Text Copyright Christopher Robbins 2007, 2008
Illustrations copyright Bob Gale 2007, 2008

1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

Designed by Geoff Green Book Design, Cambridge

Typeset in Quadraat by MacGuru Ltd
info@macguru.org.uk

Printed and bound in Great Britain by
Bookmarque, Croydon, Surrey

The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above,
no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or introduced into a retrieval
system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both
the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978 1 86197 109 8

This book is printed on FSC certified paper

For my Kazakh friends

A very ordinary man was seated beside me on the flight from London to Moscow, and when I look back and try to remember him I realize he was spectacular in his ordinariness. He had a round, podgy face with timid eyes, and balanced upon his almost bald pate was the sad construct of an artfully coiled combover. He wore a thin anorak of dull brown synthetic material, polyester trousers a shade lighter in colour, and a cream, short-sleeved, nylon shirt with a row of ballpoint pens in the breast pocket.

The words of mumbled greeting as we sat down placed him as an American from the South. At first I took him to be an engineer on his way to Russia to ply his trade in some rust-bucket Soviet-era factory in need of Western know-how, but as the plastic dinner trays were placed before us and we made small talk it became apparent that my travelling companion was a man with a story.

He had already flown that day from Atlanta, Georgia, but his home, he told me, was Little Rock, Arkansas. I guess everybody knows thats where Bill Clinton comes from, he said with a laugh. Little Rocks not a bad place if your luck holds and the creek dont rise. His luck, it soon became clear, had not held. The creek had risen. His wife had fallen ill, remained ill for a long while, and then died. The medical bills wiped him out. But it was the solitude of his grief, not the debts, which brought him to breaking-point. Lord, I was lonesome.

Abruptly, the gentle but unworldly redneck stopped talking, as if instinctively sensing that revealing such intimacies broke one of air travels unwritten rules. He only continued when I encouraged him to take up the story. The world as he knew it had disappeared, he said, along with his wife and his savings. Life lost its point. Drank a good bit. Then one day driving past the Greyhound bus station I saw this homeless guy with a supermarket trolley piled high with everything he owned. And it struck me thats where I was headed and it shook me. I didnt want to end up homeless with my stuff in some shopping cart.

So he worked and worked and worked, not as the engineer I had imagined, but as a lowly factory hand. Double shifts. Graveyard shifts. Weekend shifts. All the hours the good Lord created. Must have done that for five years. And I paid off those medical bills and even began to put a bit aside. I wasnt spending nothing. So my life got back in order but you know what saved me?

I braced myself. Out of boredom and as a distraction from tasteless food, I had been happy to hear the strangers tale, but now it seemed I was going to pay the price. I was about to be told how he had been saved. I dreaded what would come next the Lord, Alcoholics Anonymous, Islam, line-dancing

The Internet, my companion announced unexpectedly. Thats what saved me!

The Internet? I said, somewhat relieved.