What is Wheels Travels?

Stories about humanity, from around the world. wheelstravels.substack.com

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This podcast is available on 8 platforms including Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and more. You can also use the RSS feed directly.

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Wheels Travels

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by Renee Bruns

3.7(3 reviews)

82 episodes

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Stories about humanity, from around the world. <a href="https://wheelstravels.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast">wheelstravels.substack.com</a>

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Recent Episodes

April 1, 2025

Moldova

October 2024We have another overnight flight from Turkmenistan to Istanbul, Turkey. A short layover in Istanbul, and then another flight to Chisinau, Moldova. We land around 10 am, find a taxi to drive us 45 minutes outside of the city to a winery where we have reservations for lunch.It feels like we are back to civilization, and while it’s definitely not home, there’s a sense of freedom that feels normal. We haven’t slept in an actual bed in three nights, and the exhaustion is overpowering. But…we are in Moldova, and we are not going to miss out on any of the experiences. We order some wine and dumplings, which are very traditional in Moldova, for lunch. We are in a small village, surrounded by fields, and the authenticity of Moldova is seeping through. The restaurant has a feel very different than I expected. The table cloths are colorful, clearly a symbol of their culture. The music is local, and there are cats roaming around. The ambiance is relaxed yet formal.The kindness from the people we encounter at the airport, in the village, everywhere is powerful, and yet, I feel a sadness…a struggle filled with heaviness…from the restaurant staff and everyone we meet. I know that next door, just an hour drive from where we dine, Ukraine is fighting a war. I desperately want to understand what it must feel like for the Moldovans, to be so close to tragedy, their own country at risk, and I also feel a conflicting feeling of gratitude that I don’t have to understand those emotions. It feels selfish and I hate myself for that, wanting to take it all away and give them comfort, something I am unable to do.Moldova is a small country, with a population of no more than 2.5 million people. It’s one of the least visited countries in Europe, and I appreciate that it’s not crowded, it’s culture still prominent. After lunch, we get back in the same taxi, who we had arranged to pick us up and drive us to the next winery.Another 30 minutes or so and we arrived at Castel Mimi. We’re halfway across the country now, having driven just a little over an hour in total. Here, there is a castle, a hotel, and a winery. It feels so elaborate, so comforting. The staff treats us like royalty. There’s wine and chocolates in our room. The beds are covered in plush white sheets and comforters, so different than the cots in the yurt we last slept on.Thanks for reading Wheels Travels! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.We explore the grounds in the afternoon, checking out the pool before our tour of the winery and castle. We have a wine tasting with our traditional dinner. We’re served meat and dumplings and sarmale (rice and meat wrapped in vine leaves) and mamaliga (corn flour, water, and salt – similar to polenta). We have ice cream for dessert, and by 8 pm, we are sound asleep in bed, where we stay for the next 12 ours, exhausted from Turkmenistan.The next morning, we have breakfast and find another taxi to take us back to Chisinau. Once rested, we’re able to spend the day exploring the city, wandering the streets and stopping at cafes and bars. We people watch. We walk. We roam freely. We discuss whatever is on our minds. And we reflect on the world – Turkmenistan, Moldova, and so many other places just like ours and so different. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://wheelstravels.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1">wheelstravels.substack.com</a>

March 25, 2025

The Gate to Hell, Turkmenistan

October 2024Matt, Mike, and I sat in the backseat of an early 2000’s sedan. Our driver and Andrew, our guide, were in the front two seats. We rode for about four hours, crammed in the backseat, on bumpy roads, full of potholes. Our driver did an excellent job at swerving back and forth to miss them, and we swayed along with the movement. The last hour, the road turned to dirt and we bounced around like popcorn in a kettle.When we could, we closed our eyes and tried to sleep. We hadn’t sleep the night before, since we had an overnight flight, and spent the entire day touring Ashgabat. I was overwhelmed, in a curious and good way, and it wore me out. But I also didn’t want to miss what was next – the real reason we came to Turkmenistan.In the middle of Turkmenistan, with nothing surrounding it, lies a gas crater that has been burning for over 50 years. It’s often referred to as The Gate to Hell. Day and night, wind or rain, it burns around the clock. It’s said that 50 some years ago, a worker was drilling for natural gas and the crater collapsed. The worker and all his equipment fell in, and since then, the gas crater has been burning. There’s nowhere else in the world with this phenomenon, and it’s a site to see.The sun was still up when we turned around a corner and saw the crater at the bottom of a hill. We pulled as close as we could, all got out of the car, and walked towards it. The heat came pouring out at us. It felt like a large campfire as we got closer. We snapped a few photos before Andrew said, “Let’s get going. We’ll come back after dark. It’s much better than. But now, let’s get to camp and have dinner.”We drive just a few minutes away to a yurt camp where we stayed the night. Andrew showed us our yurt – three cots, one for each us, were positioned in a U-shape. He pointed off in the distance. “Over there are the bathrooms. They are communal and open all night long.” He looked at me and I raised my eyebrows. There was a path but most of the camp was made of desert sand. “If you want, you can just go in the sand over there behind your yurt,” he said.“Perfect,” I said, thankfully. It felt so…wrong, especially compared to the rigidness we had experienced in the city. But I was thankful that I ‘had permission’ to use the sand instead of making my way over 100 yards in the sand, which would have been virtually impossible.The three of us each grabbed a beer from the cooler and sat near our yurt, around a card table, while Andrew finished barbequing our dinner. We had chicken and another type of meat – I’m not sure what kind. There were some roasted vegetables also, and all-in-all, it was quite a tasty meal for being in the middle of the desert.Andrew joined us for dinner and we asked more about him. It felt more relaxed out in the desert, away from the properness of the city. He told us about his girlfriend whom he hoped would be his wife someday. The custom in Turkmenistan is for the male to ask the female’s father for permission to marry. The male then pays the father, usually around $5,000-6,000 USD. In Turkmenistan, there are two wedding events – one for each family. And they are costly. Andrew went on to explain that he couldn’t afford to pay that much for a dowry payment and two wedding events, so his girlfriend and he were hoping to go to Russia soon and marry there.I was finally starting to experience the people…a little. Andrew, who had seemed emotionless, had a girlfriend. He wanted to have a wife. To have a family. I knew it, that deep down, he was no different than me. He wanted the same things out of life – love, and happiness, and joy.Thanks for reading Wheels Travels! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.As soon as the sun started to set, Andrew told us that we needed to get to the crater. “It gets very crowded, so it’s best to get there early for pictures.”We spent well over an hour walking around the entire crater, taking pictures of this magical hole in the ground that was burning on fire. There weren’t a lot of controls in place to make sure people didn’t fall in, people just respected the edge of the crater. We’d back away and feel the cool desert air, and get closer to feel like marshmallows being roasted.When we were done with the experience, we drove back to camp. On the way, we saw a small animal in the sand. We asked Andrew what it was and he told us it was a hedgehog. The car stopped, he got out, chased after it like a young schoolboy, finally caught it, and brought it over to the car for us. He was laughing and we were laughing. It was another moment where I saw Andrew’s personality come out, and I appreciated the innocence that came with chasing a hedgehog across the desert sand.That night, the three of us slept in our clothes and special sleeping bags to keep us warm. There wasn’t electricity in the yurts, and the desert air was cold. Matt and I slept solid, for nearly eight hours. When I woke up, Mike explained that there was a party in the yurt next door, and it went on all night long. “Those Russians really know how to party,” he said, as he explained that they were up until around 5 am.We made the same drive back to the city that we did on the way there. Bouncy, dirty, and rough. We stopped at a horse farm near the city. The former President adored horses, and they have become a very important part of the Turkmenistan culture. We took a rest in the same hotel before dinner.We ate at a local pizza restaurant where we each pulled out our cell phones. Maybe there’s WiFi here? we thought. About 20 different connections popped up, and within seconds, they all disappeared. We asked our waitress if there was WiFi, and the response was orchestrated, “It’s not working today.” We were back in the city, and that was evident.Andrew took us to another memorial near a park. The sun was setting and there was music with people. Finally some people! He explained that there was a festival that night and the locals were all there to celebrate. Mothers pushing strollers, teenagers on bicycles, children running in the streets. It felt so…normal.I wondered again how much access to other parts of the world these people had. I wondered what their homes looked like. I wondered what they talked about with their families. I wondered so much about their lives. It felt like I was on another planet, and selfishly, I couldn’t wait for my WiFi to start working, so I could know what was going on my world.How is it possible, that on the same planet, places like this, full of marvel and natural beauty and curiosity can co-exist? We are so disconnected from each other, and yet the chasing of a hedgehog can bring a smile to all of our faces. The chance at falling in love is a dream. The connection, while perhaps the most distance of all, is still there. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://wheelstravels.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1">wheelstravels.substack.com</a>

March 18, 2025

Ashgabat, Turkmenistan

October 2024We have a 1 am flight from Istanbul, Turkey to Ashgabat, Turkmenistan. It’s less than a four hour flight, and as we land, the sun is rising in Turkmenistan. I watch the screen on the back of the seat in front of me as we fly over Tehran, Iran, and wonder what it’s like in Iran. Someday, I tell myself, someday I will know.The airport landing looks like no different than any other airport landing. As our wheels touch the ground, I take a deep breath. I am in Turkmenistan! I am in the place that is supposedly the most like North Korea. My heart flutters. I’m nervous. I have no idea what to expect. I flip my phone off of airplane mode. It searches and searches. Nothing. No signal. I’m not surprised. I knew there wouldn’t be access to the outside world here. I turn it back to airplane mode to save battery.The plane deboards and I wait quietly. My brother and Mike walk passed me; I’m excited to have them on this trip, in this new country, with me. “We’ll wait for you in the jetway,” they say as they pass by. I nod my head. I watch out the window and see that my wheelchair is being brought up the steps to the jetway. I breathe a sigh of relief, and a few minutes later, the three of us are walking towards a window with a big plane of glass. On the other side is a man who takes our passports and letters of invitation. To get into Turkmenistan, you must have a letter of invitation. Our tour company arranged this for us. We handed our documents over. “It will be $80,” he says. We pay him with the cash we knew we’d need for this and proceed to the next window. Another man looks at our passports and says, “Ok, $30,” and we pay him. He hands our passports back, each with a sheet of paper that says, “COVID PCR Test – Paid.” I assume we will get a PCR test at another stop on the way out of the airport. I quietly hope that none of us have a positive test. I can’t imagine what the quarantine process is like in a country like Turkmenistan, where I had read that they have publicly told other countries ‘they never had COVID enter their country, only a unique strain of pneumonia.’We walk to the next stop – immigration. We had our passports to the man on the other side of the counter just as a young, gangly man wearing khakis and a polo shirt approaches us. He has a lanyard around his neck with a badge of some sort. “I’m Andrew. I’ll be your tour guide,” he tells us and he communicates in the local language to the immigration officer. He tells us to take any medicine – any kind of pill – out of our bag before putting in on the scanner, which is the next stop. “They won’t take the medicine from you, but you must disclose what you have in your bags.” We each pull out our zip lock bags, hold them up as our bags go through a scanner and us through a metal detector.Once outside the airport, never having taken the COVID test that we paid for, Andrew shows us the car and introduces us to our driver. We drive away, towards the city of Ashgabat, and I look out the window. “Guys, look, the airport is in the shape of a falcon. It even has a beak over the front door!” It was clear already that we were in an entirely different world. The airport was grand, beautiful, stunning. And there were no more than five cars there.We drive for about 30 minutes to our hotel. We hadn’t slept much, nerves and excitement on the flight keeping us awake. At our hotel, we check into our rooms which smell strongly of cigarette smoke and look like they are from the 1980s. It feels like there are cameras watching us, although we can’t physically see any. But they’ll do, and besides, we’re not even sleeping in them. We’ll be driving outside of the city and staying in yurts for the night.We charge our electronics, brush our teeth, and head to the common area for breakfast – eggs, toast, sausage, and coffee. We learn a little from our guide as we prepare for the day. Turkmenistan has a population of six million people and has immense wealth from its natural gas that it exports. The government only allows its people to have white cars, although some appear to be a very light gray. But there are no black, or blue, or red cars. The buildings in the city of Ashgabat are all white. Marble white, and it was all imported in from other countries. Everything is white. Literally everything!There are five regions in the country, and as we learn during our city tour, the five regions are highlighted in everything. A star with five points, a symbol of Turkmenistan. Our guide explains to us that we are not be explore on our own, that all tourists must be accompanied by a guide at all times. This becomes evident during our time in their country. We never eat alone, we don’t roam the streets alone, and we are escorted through the airport, from the moment we cross immigration to the moment we cross back through immigration. Andrew is always with us. While it’s possible to drive over the border from neighboring countries, it is a mandate that a guide meet you and drive with you. Ironically, in these cases, you are allowed to enter with a car that is a different color than white.Thanks for reading Wheels Travels! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.After breakfast, we begin a tour of the city. We drive through some of the most grand streets I’ve ever seen in my life. The sky is bright blue, not a cloud in sight. And tall, white buildings appear to reach to the heavens. There are perfectly pruned bushes in either side of the street, and some of the most gorgeous parks I’ve ever seen. I’m envious of the beauty the city holds. The light posts are perfectly lined along the streets, and there’s not a single piece of litter, anywhere. It feels like we are driving on a road that leads to another world, to a heave of some sort. And…there isn’t a single person in sight.We visit a number of monuments and statues, all perfectly created, clean, and orderly. There are vast areas of park and squares so large they seem to never end. In them, it is just us, and a few pigeons. We all wonder, “Where are all the people? Where are the people that maintain this beautiful city?” We are in awe, and at the same time, it’s so vacant of human life that it becomes creepy and uncomfortable. It’s as though everyone knew we were coming, prepared the area, and then went into hiding.We visit the world’s largest indoor ferris wheel, which is opened only for us, because, well, there are no other people. We ride around, going up to the top, one time, looking out over the city and into the mountains far off into the distance.At one of the parks, there is a security guard with a large pile of bouquets of flowers sitting in front of him. There are probably 50 bouquets of flowers in front of him. Andrew explains that there was a festival earlier that day and that’s why there are flowers. It’s early in the morning and I wonder what time this festival was, given that there were no people or remnants of a festival. The guard approaches me with two bouquets of flowers. He says something to Andrew, who translates for me, “These are for you. They are leftover and you can have them.” They smell amazing, and are the largest bundle of flowers I’ve ever received. I feel special.For lunch, we eat pilav, a common rice dish. It’s delicious and reminds me of my time in Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan. At every stop, Andrew messages someone on his phone, using a messaging platform none of us have ever seen. I assume he’s reporting to his boss, letting him or her know exactly where we are and what we are doing. The schedule is rigid and we are not to miss anything.We ask questions about the war in Ukraine. “Turkmenistan is a neutral party,” is all Andrew comments. I wonder what their media is like. I wonder how much exposure to the outside world Andrew, and the people in Turkmenistan, have. I wonder if he’s allowed to have an opinion. His response feels so robotic, so calculated, so….watched.I want to talk to him. I want to know about him. I want to drink a coffee or beer with a local. I want to know what it’s like to live in Turkmenistan. And I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to. His responses are rehearsed, and there’s no one else around.What is it like, really like, to live in this vacant, white, majestic city? It doesn’t feel bad. It feels safe. It’s beautiful. And the few people – a hotel worker, a waiter at a restaurant, our driver, and Andrew – all appear kind. Is it possible that of all the places I’ve visited, this might be the one that is the most perplexing?I want to talk to Matt and Mike about this, to discuss at depth the feelings I’m having. I want to ask them how they’re feeling. I want to know what they think of this place so different than any I’ve ever had. But we can’t be left alone, and so I write my thoughts in my phone, making a list of things so bizarre and foreign, to be discussed at a later time. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://wheelstravels.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1">wheelstravels.substack.com</a>

82 total episodes available

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What is Wheels Travels?: Stories about humanity, from around the world. <a href="https://wheelstravels.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast">wheelstravels.substack.com</a>
How often does this podcast release new episodes?: This podcast updates weekly.
Where can I listen to this podcast?: This podcast is available on 8 platforms including Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and more. You can also use the RSS feed directly.
Does this podcast accept guests?: Yes, this podcast regularly features guests.

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