was​ sitting next to a Coca-Cola sales exec on the flight to Ashgabat. ‘I hope you’ve got the right-sized photo,’ he said. ‘If you haven’t …’ He gave a short, sharp whistle through his teeth and jerked his thumb backwards: ‘Home you will go.’ Arrivals in Turkmenistan can only get visas at the airport and it is a notoriously hit and miss affair. I showed the man my photo. I would have to present it to the immigration officials, along with my letter of invitation and my official fee in cash. He produced his noticeably larger photo. ‘Or maybe you could pay a little extra.’ He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together and laughed. I laughed with him.