Hello from India. I just finished the Turkmenistan Airlines portion of my trip. The previous post covered the big stuff—the Boeing 777 business class experience and the weirdness at Ashgabat.
This part? The connecting leg on the 737 from Ashgabat (ASB) to Delhi (DEL) was something else entirely. Three hours five minutes. That’s how long this specific journey lasted. But honestly, it felt longer because of everything that happened.
The plane turned around mid-air. Every single seat was filled. I got caught taking photos. And the food? Let’s just say the meal service defied logic.
Here are my raw thoughts before I write the full report.
Why Was the Cabin Packed So Quickly?
Turkmenistan Airlines flies its 737 in a 2-2 config. The seats recline. It’s decently spacious, at least compared to what you get on most US domestic carriers.
No Wi-Fi, though. And the entertainment selection was… limited.
You’ve heard the rumors: Ashgabat is strict about photography. Strict is an understatement. I wasn’t warned on the previous flight. No announcements. No signs. But on this 73-800? A flight attendant screamed from the front row, “Photos are not allowed!” nearly immediately after I sat down. So, any pics here were taken sneaking. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Here’s what made me uncomfortable, though. When I boarded, it was just me and two other people. Maybe thirty minutes passed before the door opened. Suddenly? All fifteen business seats filled up. Like, pop. Gone.
Why the rush?
Oversold economy? Last-minute operational upgrades? Do premium passengers here prefer a group arrival? No one knew.
The Mid-Flight U-Turn
Then came the turn.
We take off. Normal ascent. And then? We spin. One-eighty degrees. We’re heading back to Ashgabat.
My stomach dropped. Was airspace closing? Maintenance issue? A bird strike? I waited for the explanation. Nothing. Just silence and a widening holding pattern over the mountains.
Eventually, we turned back toward Delhi. It turns out we were just holding. Maybe busy airspace above Afghanistan. Maybe technical checks. But flying a loop just to hold for ten minutes? That’s a specific kind of travel stress.
The views were incredible, though. Breathtaking over the rugged terrain of the border region. Hard to feel scared when the planet looks like that.
The Slowest Meal Service Ever?
Now. The food.
The departure was 6:40 AM. I expected breakfast.
A single flight attendant manned business class. Friendly, but slow. On every other airline, you get water or juice in ten minutes. Here, she cleared a passenger’s tray after serving the next person. There were no drinks at boarding.
The menu arrived late.
The options confused me. Chicken breast with cheese sauce and mashed potatoes? In a 2-2 jet, at dawn?
“Is this breakfast?” I asked.
Her reply was simple. “We serve lunch.”
Lunch. At 6:40 AM. When the menu clearly listed breakfast items? Okay. I didn’t argue. I ordered the beef stroganoff, mainly because pancakes with undefined meat didn’t sound appealing in the dark.
While she prepped my seatmates’ food, I watched from across the aisle. It looked like she was assembling massive, frozen-style trays. Paper packaging. Ice packs. Not fresh, warm kitchen plates.
My turn came. 10 minutes before landing.
Wait. 10 minutes before landing?
Yes. It took her that long to serve everyone ahead of me. Because she took her time opening packages and arranging plastic containers.
The “No-Go” Zone on Your Lap
I opened my tray.
It was a marvel of bad spatial planning.
I’m still trying to understand how I was supposed to eat. The main entree, a bowl of cherries, three packages of nuts, a bread roll, a hot item in a foil boat, a plastic fork, and juice? There is no place for it all. The tray table is standard size. This food is cargo-box size.
It was a stack. A precarious tower of sustenance that defied gravity and etiquette.
Was I supposed to eat with the food resting on the packaging? Hold the foil boat with one hand and the plastic spoon with the other? It was messy. It was chaotic.
And the taste? Mid.
The cherries were cute. The quantity was impressive. I appreciate the branding, sure. Every sticker, every napkin, every plastic wrap had that distinctive Turkmen airline logo. But the beef? Standard. Nothing special. A cold salad? Standard. It was the kind of food that is adequate, forgettable, and served by someone who clearly has too much of it.
Is It Worth Flying Turkmenistan Airlines?
Look, I’ve wanted to fly this airline for a long time. So it goes on the list. “Been there. Done that.”
The fares are cheap. You can’t beat the price. And if you’re an adventure traveler who likes odd experiences, you’ll remember this flight. The mid-air turn alone is a story you’ll tell at dinner parties. “We turned around for ten minutes over the Hindu Kush while a flight attendant debated the definition of breakfast with a passenger.”
But comfort? Service speed? Logical menu planning? Those are low bars here.
I was slightly disappointed the experience wasn’t even stranger. If this was the weirdness, imagine if things got worse. But hey. That’s just my unique perspective.
If you fly economy, it’s fine. Bare bones. Expect it to be basic. But if you pay for the extra comfort in business class… you’re mostly paying to sit in a slightly wider seat while waiting for a confusing lunch to be wrapped in plastic fifty minutes before touchdown.
Interesting trip? Yes.
Smooth trip? Absolutely not.
Next time? Probably not. But it’s not like Turkmenistan is closing its doors anytime soon.
