Ashgabat, a white utopia, or just a nightmare?

Part of: Turkmenistan – Where Crazy Is Normal

When a dictator wants to impress the world, there are many options.

One of them is to build an entire capital city in white marble—and make sure everything else follows.

Ashgabat is often described as the whitest city in the world.

White buildings. White monuments. White cars.

At one point, even car colour became policy. Owners of darker vehicles reportedly found them towed overnight, repainted, and returned—for a fee. Whether entirely true or not, it says something about the place.

A city built to be seen

The city is wide, clean, and strangely empty.

Boulevards stretch out with very little traffic. Apartment blocks rise in neat rows, but many are said to stand partially unoccupied—too expensive for most people, but important to have.

Ashgabat feels less like a city that grew, and more like one that was decided.

The world’s largest indoor Ferris wheel

The Alem Centre proudly hosts the world’s largest indoor Ferris wheel.

From the outside, it’s hard to understand the point. Inside, it’s not much clearer. The views are limited, the experience slightly underwhelming—but that may not be the point.

The record is.

The book, the myth, the message

Türkmenbaşy, the country’s former president, didn’t just build a city—he wrote himself into it.

His book, Ruhnama (“Book of the Soul”), was required reading. In schools. For exams. Even for a driving licence. It was placed alongside the Quran in mosques.

A large monument of the book stood in the city, opening every evening as people gathered to watch.

After his death, it stopped.

Legacy, on a larger scale

Towards the end of his life, Türkmenbaşy built an enormous mosque.

It stands outside the city centre—large, impressive, and, when I visited, almost empty.

One unusual detail: inscriptions not only in Arabic, but also in Turkmen—praising the man who built it.

Not everyone appreciated that.

Utopia—or something else

Ashgabat is clean. Extremely clean.

But what you notice most are not the buildings—it’s the people maintaining them. Women with brooms, constantly sweeping streets that already seem spotless.

There are few crowds. Few signs of everyday chaos.

And that’s what makes it feel… unusual.

Turkmenistan – Where Reality Feels… Controlled – Silver Queer Travel light