New writer: Daniel Chapman Daniel recently graduated from the University of New Orleans with a degree in urban planning but grew up in the UK. He is currently planning to move to Mexico to teach English before beginning his real career of championing intelligent city design.

The city of Norilsk lies 320km north of the Arctic Circle in the frigid tundra of Siberia. It is the second largest city north of the Arctic Circle (after Murmansk), and the northernmost city in the world with a population over 100,000. It also holds an unenviable spot among the ten most polluted cities on earth thanks to the massive nickel mining operation in the area.

Due to pollution, not a single tree grows within 45km of the largest of four nickel smelters, Nadezhda¹, and it’s estimated that Norilsk contributes 1% of all sulphur dioxide released into the earth’s atmosphere.

The city itself was built with Gulag labour under the direction of Joseph Stalin, and in true Stalinist fashion, the cityscape is dominated by massive apartment blocks spaced along wide boulevards.

In 1953-54, prison labourers assigned the task of building the city staged what has become known as the Norilsk uprising. The “uprising” was actually unarmed, so the term settled upon by the authorities was “mass insubordination”. While dissent was common in the Gulag system, the uprising in Norilsk was the largest such rebellion under Stalin’s iron-fisted rule.

Many thousands of prison labourers died in the extremely harsh conditions while building the city: Norilsk is covered by snow between 250 and 270 days a year with temperatures as low as -58°C having been recorded.

After reading all this, you’re probably about ready to book your next holiday to this lovely utopia. Not so fast. Norilsk is closed to foreigners without a really good reason to go, and travel to the city is restricted even among Russian nationals. The reason for this could be to cover up the massive scale of pollution, or it could have something to do with the many ICBM silos nearby. Any other theories?

There’s more information about Norilsk at Wikipedia.

High up in the Italian Dolomite mountains, 90km north of Venice, the Vajont Dam was the scene of one of the 20th century’s worst engineering disasters. The tallest dam in the world when it was completed in 1959, at 262m, it was beset with problems from the beginning. On October 9, 1963, before it had even been completely filled, an enormous landslide (the 2km-long scar of which can still be clearly seen) sent 260 million cubic metres of mountainside into the lake behind the dam, causing a wave of water 250 metres high to spill over into the valley below.

The giant wave completely destroyed five villages, killing almost 2,000 people, maybe even more. Strangely, the dam itself was relatively undamaged and still stands today, with the upstream face largely buried beneath the landslide. Although the communities (the largest of which was Longarone) have been rebuilt, they are very different places than before the disaster. Many of the survivors were relocated to a newly built town 35km away, also called Vajont¹, and the valley is now home to many more industries. Apparently this has been a source of controversy in the area: the victims were offered tax breaks by the government to help them rebuild their lives, but many of these privileges ended up being bought from them by large corporations.

Not long after the disaster, it became clear that it had been avoidable. During construction of the dam, cracks and movement of the mountainside were noticed on several occasions, and the owners (the electricity firm SADE) were warned that the geology of the site was unstable. Still they went ahead with filling the lake, even after a smaller landslip occurred, three years before the fatal collapse, which required an artificial gallery to be built before filling could continue. Despite all that emerged, it seems that the firm escaped with fairly minor punishment.

There is lots more information and pictures of the dam as it looks today on this site, and, as ever, at Wikipedia.

Thanks to Andrea Barbarino.

The Alameda Trench is a 16-km train route which runs 10m below ground-level through the centre of Los Angeles.

Trains descend into the trench near Greenleaf Boulevard in the south and rise back to the surface at 25th Street to the north. It runs parallel to Alameda Street, from which it takes its name.

Before the trench was completed, trains up to 2.5km long would have to slowly pass through around 200 grade-level crossings (i.e. no bridges or tunnels), which resulted in considerable traffic holdups and pollution from stopped vehicles. Since the $2.4billion construction project was completed in 2002, the trench has significantly eased congestion through central Los Angeles.

The struts across the trench – clearly visible from above, and on street view – are intended to maintain the integrity of the concrete walls during California’s frequent earthquakes¹.

The trench is part of the Alameda Corridor which takes 30-60 trains per day from the ports of Long Beach and Los Angeles to locations across the United States – accounting for up to 1/4 of all consumer products imports. Design and construction is underway for an expansion to the east, into San Gabriel.

Somewhat surprisingly, given the number and length of trains which pass through the trench, none are visible on Google Maps. We can, however, see some on Bing Maps’ Bird’s Eye View. And this Youtube video gives you a sense of what it’s like to travel through the trench which is only used for freight traffic (though some ceremonial passenger trains did run through the Corridor on its opening day).

Sayano–Shushenskaya was – until a recent accident – the largest power plant in Russia, and the sixth largest hydroelectric plant in the world.

The main feature of the power station is a dam 245 m high and over a kilometre long. Construction was completed in 1978, though spring floods caused moderate damage in three of the ten following years. However, the accident on 17 August 2009 was much more serious, with at least 73 people having died, a large oil spill into the river, and severe damage to several turbines and other parts of the facility, leading to a total shutdown.

While some operations could restart in the near future, complete repairs could take 4 years and cost over a billion dollars. Youtube has a video of the accident¹ and English Russia has a couple of sets of photos of the aftermath: 1, 2.

The power station near the dam distributed 6400 MW of power to 2 double sets of lines (clearly visible on the high resolution images) which head north through wide sections of cleared forest before dividing into east and west routes.

The Eastern route heads to the town of Sayanogorsk which is most affected by the loss of power.

Following the cables and pylons north of town they eventually run to one of the world’s largest aluminum smelters. It is unfortunately partially obscured by cloud, but you can zoom in to see trains, storage tanks and assorted industrial buildings.

This smelter consumed up to 30% of the power generated by Sayano–Shushenskaya, and will see a long-term 50% drop in production as limited power can be diverted to it from other sources.

The city of Ashgabat – capital of Turkmenistan – is dominated by monuments to one man’s megalomania – former President-for-Life Saparmurat Niyazov. Take, for example, the 75m tall Arch of Neutrality, which he subtly topped with a 12m gold-plated statue of himself. Not content with just a normal statue, he had it created such that it would rotate through the course of each day so it was always facing the sun. ¹

The Arch is an indication that this former Soviet republic declared itself permanently neutral after the Soviet Union fell apart. While this foreign policy initiative had the potential to be positive, internally the country was facing immense hardships, human rights abuses and intense poverty, all while one of the world’s worst dictators spent lavishly on monuments to his madness. Niyazov claimed the title of President-for-Life after an election in which he hand-picked a single candidate for each electoral district.

To the south of the Arch of Neutrality lie the President’s Palace, another large palace for his family, and the Ten Years of Independence Park, one of several lush expanses of green in an otherwise arid city – use of water being just one way in which Niyazov showed his power and spent his money². The park features a large fountain statue of 10 horses, and another gold statue of Niyazov.

One of Niyazov’s more outlandish “achievements” was his authorship of Ruhnama, or Book of the Soul, commemorated in the south of the city with a monument and more fountains. The large replica of the book opens and closes on special occasions (when the motor isn’t burnt out) to reveal video screens showing scenes from his life. The monument is the small circle to the left of the huge white stage / performance / fountain area.

Amongst other marvellous powers, Niyazov claimed the Ruhnama could guarantee entrance to paradise for anyone who read it three times, and heal those suffering from illness after he closed all the hospitals outside the capital. Knowledge of it was essential for any job with the state, and even for taking a driving test. The text is available online in 22 languages if you are in need of enlightenment or struggling with your driving skills.

In the same park as the Ruhnama Monument are the Independence Monument (inspired by tents and headwear; topped by a giant gold spire and fronted by yet another gold statue), a Museum of Turkmen Values, a significant network of ponds and fountains, tributes to past Turkmen heroes, and (seeming rather out of place) a shopping mall inside a huge 5-legged monument which features cascading sheets of water and five-headed eagles, though not many shops apparently.

To the south-west of the city is the modestly-named Turkmenbashi³ Eternally Great Park, starting point of Niyazov’s ‘health walk’ – a strenuous 8km trek which ministers were forced to walk regularly, while the President himself would take the rather less strenuous helicopter option – landing at the top in time to welcome the front-runners and berate the stragglers.

The monument at the base is made entirely of white marble⁴, the glare from which caused serious problems for the satellite camera. Near the end of the walk there are large writings on the hillside, presumably inspirational texts to help you on the final push to the summit. There is also a longer route for those in need of additional health.

Finally, to the west of the city, where Niyazov built the largest mosque in Central Asia, partly as a memorial to the village where his mother died in the 1948 earthquake which devastated the region. The spectacular building is somewhat confusing, with quotations from both the Koran and the Ruhnama.

Niyazov died suddenly in 2006. Since then the people of Turkmenistan are seeing more freedoms, but residents of Ashgabat doubtless spend their days wondering at the folly of what was left behind.

Thanks to Birdseed, Catherine and Hamish.