Workmen are labouring night and day on a tower to dwarf all the other Turkmenbashi monuments. Plans show a golden structure 70 metres high.

The giant statue on top is backed by what looks like billowing wings. The Turkmenbashi figure will look down on an Ashkhabad barely recognisable as the modest town it used to be.

Beneath lies the most splendid of the residences, called simply Turkmenbashi palace, it outshines the White House in Washington in size and sheer presence. There are credible rumours of an underground passage connecting this palace to an older one nearby.

It is said Turkmenbashi travels by a chair on rails between his homes at the touch of a button. The next building to take shape will be the Congress, a vast complex set under turquoise domes.

The purpose behind all this is two-fold. To glorify the man himself while also giving the impression Turkmenistan is both grand and successful.

Foreign businessmen have benenfited at least from the hotels, but for ordinary Turkmens the show is by no means funny. Life here is dismally poor and many face the winter without proper food, heat or power supplies.

But no-one can speak out. From infancy the Turkmen are made to swear an oath to the leader.