Tashkent, Uzbekistan

Buldging watermelons were placed under shady parasols, stacked on top of each other in a great mound. I followed the flow of people to a blue tiled dome, expecting to find the main market, but instead, I discovered a collection of spice vendors. I walked around the maze of tables and back into the outdoor stands. The sun was piercing, as it beat down upon the stalls of clothes and toiletries. Expecting to find a section of handicrafts and local fabric, I continued to wander. I was unsuccessful and found the Chorsu Bazaar to be dissapointing, with little of interest to someone with no desire to purchase a broom or a synthetic tshirt. However, the people were quite charasmatic, only noticing that I wasn't local when I brought out a camera. There is an Asian look to the people, with a strong Russian influence.



Compared to other Uzbek cities, begging has become quite noticable in both Samarkand and Tashkent. I wonder how much of this is due to tourism, with small children being taught to ask for money and how many tourists have previously handed them a note, so that now they come to expect it from foreigners. As I walked around the entrance of a mosque, I was followed by a young boy and a girl, who grabbed at my arm and skirt, asking for money. There were no signs of desperation, the girl seemed quite indignant about getting something. I was surprised at the mothers attitude, seemingly completely calm about her children pestering a tourist, as they stood waiting at a bus stop.

Tashkent seems such a vast city, that taxis are an essential mode of transport. It is too hot to walk for any distance. We are staying at the Hotel Grand Orzu, which is perfectly acceptable, but nothing special. The swimming pool was a dissapointment. A tiny plunge pool with cloudy water and a guy trying to skim away the dead flies, in an attempt to entice us in. Considering that the hotel is located on the edge of the city, it seems to lack reasons to stay there, since it is so far from the metro station or any of the old sites.

Last night we all went out for a group meal, as three of us are leaving the tour tomorrow. Our guide recommended the Sim Sim Cafe, a great restaurant with an extensive menu of local dishes. I ordered a vegetable salad, which they did very well, and a green shi soup. I was puzzeled that my soup was infact red and seasoned with paprika, nothing like the parsley flavoured green shi that I had eaten in Samarkand. I gave the soup to Jallel to eat and ordered some fries with ketchup, which arrived with chilli flakes in. The rest of the food in Uzbekistan has been surprisingly chilli and paprika free. A disco began in one of the rooms downstairs while people ate, although the dancing wouldn't begin for many hours. In another room, a cabaret act began to set up.

Tonight, a few of us are going to a Syrian restaurant, known for providing some of the best cuisine in town. I think after eating so much greasy kebab meat, we are all longing for a delicious dinner.

Samarkand, Uzbekistan

I have to admit that I found Samarkand a little dissapointing, after the atmosphere of Khiva and Bukhara. The city does have some beautiful architecture, mainly consisting of Registan square, with a collection of mosques and medresses, but surrounding that is a busy road and with modern buildings, all slightly dirty. There are a few parks with trees and concrete pathways, which provide shade and a hang out for local teenagers but the area lacks the relaxed feel of other Uzbek cities. Many aspects remind me of a typical Asian city, with run down buildings and dirty food stalls, except Samarkand has retained an exquisite center piece, with a few ornate buildings scattered amongst the monotonous sprawl of grey.



We are staying at B&B Private Hotel Furkat, which is so bad that I felt compelled to photograph it, as on the first night, a few of us sat around laughing at how terrible it is. The good news is that a lot of building work is going on and there are plans for a restaurant and proper rooms, so perhaps in the future it could be really nice. The staff do try their best and are quite accomodating with the resources that they have. Unfortunately, we have been staying there for the last few nights. Upon arrival, the first room we were given was in line with the afternoon sun, furnace like inside, with no sign of the tired airconditioning unit even switching on. In the last few hotels, we have had the hottest rooms and we were getting a bit fed up of it, particularly at the previous hotel, when I spent the first night sleeping on a table in the court yard because I couldn't bear sweating all night and not feeling any breeze. We were moved to another room on the ground floor, with a toilet so fowl smelling, the stench was visable even when the door was closed. With the thought of being here for three nights, and the smell a permenant result of blocked drains and the road being dug up on the other side of the hotel, I asked if there was another room we could be moved to. I had a tour of the hotel, as I was led into five different rooms, trying to decide the things we could live with, such as a clear glass door to the bathroom, if a room had air conditioning, or the smell of sewage if the electricity worked. In most of the rooms either the bathroom smelt horribly or power lines were not able to run the airconditioning. Eventually the best option was a dark and dingy room, with hideous fifties decor, containing a working air con unit. The bathroom door was unable to close completely and would have looked more inkeeping on an industrial fridge, with a hole in the floor for the shower to drain, yet with a flat floor, taking a shower with a door that wouldn't close ment that the bedroom would be flooded. A quarter of the bathroom was taken up with a ridiculous looking boiler, which was most uneffective. The main door to our room in unable to close also, with no facility to lock at night, so I sleep with my bag of valuables and hope for the best. At least I have a room mate and we are above the ground floor. Our local guide reassures us that the next hotel is a nice one.

Aydarkul Lake, Uzbekistan

After a few dodgy stomachs, we got on the truck to head to a yurt camp between Bukhara and Samarkand. I faired pretty well compared to some, with only minor aches after eating at the local pondside restaurants. I think that the salad and noodle dishes didn't do any favours.

We arrived at the yurt camp in the afternoon and a few of us took a camel ride through the desert. It was a brilliant experience and my camel had a pleasant temperment, providing a smooth ride across the sand. I was lead by a young boy, who knew exactly how to handle the
fearsome beasts, one of which continually huffed, as another screamed out in protest, suddenly sitting down after being led just a few meters. It was a memorable way to spend the end of the afternoon, as long shadows formed on the sand and the sun lowered in the sky, as our camels meandered back to camp.

The yurts are beautiful, with colourful fabric covering the wooden framework and comfortable mattresses placed on the floor.

A meal was prepared for us, with a wonderful salad of grated carrots, beetroot, cabbage and potatoes, accompanied by a local vodka which was recommended to stop us from getting ill. Our guide told us that the local people always drink vodka followed by green tea during a meal, so I am doing the same.

I had a good night sleep in the yurt, under several blankets. The following morning we got up early and drove towards Samarkand, stopping at a beautiful lake along the way. Some people swam and a few of us wandered across the sandy hills, for a stunning view of turquoise waters in the middle of the desert. It was a very tranquil place.

Bukhara, Uzbekistan

Bukhara is another gorgeous city, with a walled part, housing its historic city, with beautiful mosques and medresses. The ornate archways lead to shady retreats, often revealing handicraft stalls and carpet sellers. We stopped by one today and a lady asked us where we were from, and upon replying England, she proceeded to talk to us, keen to practise her English. We discussed many things, such as comparing the cost of living, her marriage to her husband at the age of nineteen and how she was unable to travel to America, despite paying one hundred dollars for a visa. Travel really does seem very difficult here for local people, even if they can save up the money. The lady thought that once she reaches thirty five, getting a visa to travel will become easier. Perhaps things will change slowly, although international news websites appear to be blocked in Uzbekistan.



Yesterday we had a walking tour of the city, by our guide, Jallel, an intelligent and witty character who has sussed out the group dynamics very quickly, noticing who wants to eat together and the few people that we would rather loose. We went to a street cafe last night and ate beef kebab, which arrived on an impressively large skewer. The seating area is raised from the ground and resembled sitting on a large bed with a table in the middle. Underneath us, an assortment of cats, geese and a the occassional dog wandered past the tables. Occassionally a fight would break out amongst the animals and a goose would run past, scattering my flip flops across the cafe floor. It was a fun experience, and Jallel, our local guide came and sat with us in the evening as we chatted. It feels like I am learning a lot about local life through the poeple being so friendly and honest.



This afternoon we visited a tea house and enjoyed a relaxed atmosphere, sampling local tea flavoured with herbs and spices, accompanied by various sweet treats such as sultanas and sugary seed cakes. I wandered through market stalls and bought a few local items to bring back and found an internet cafe that works, as things like internet and mobile phone signal seem to be very tempermental here.

Khiva, Uzbekistan

Upon arriving in Khiva, it felt like I had found what I came on this trip for. A city guarded by solid sand stone walls, with baked bricks forming medresses and minerets, decorated with turquoise tiled conicals. It really is completely magical, and our hotel is right in the heart of the old town. From the roof terrace, there is a fantastic view of Islamic styled architecture, from ornate mosaic tiles to plain, sand coloured domes, as local boys ride bicycles and men push carts on the road below. Although this city was restored a few years ago, it still holds a lot of charm and te people here are keen to say hello, seeming genuinely happy to see us and speak a few words of English.



On our first night, the hotel prepared a fantastic meal for us, as the table was adorned with bread, nuts and dried fruit. Our host brought out small bowls of bean and beetroot salad and another dish of fried vegetables, with tomatoes and aubergine. Our starter consisted of a watery soup, with a few chunks of meat, floating next to potatoes. The main course was peppers, stuffed with meat and rice, accompanied by more potatoes and a selection of vegetables. Plates of watermelon and apricot were dispersed amongst the table for dessert. It felt like quite a feast and I was very happy with all the fruit and vegetables, after what felt like a week of snacking on crisps and packet marble cake, in order to satisfy my hunger. It seems like the variety of fruit available here is good.




We went for an evening stroll, and as we passed peoples houses, small children would wave and say goodbye to us, which was quite funny, so we said hello and the child looked quite confused, and eventually smiled and said hello. As we continued walking we then said 'bye'. The streets felt completely safe as children could play in the street after dark and old ladies would smile at us. We ended up in a tea house, sitting on low down furniture, sipping our choice of lemonade, beer and tea. It was a good end to the day.

The morning we had a delightful breakfast of bread, fried egg, pancakes and jam in a large dining room, before setting off, for a tour of Khiva. We have a new guide, who is enthusiastic and opinionated, putting great energy into telling us about the city, which is the oldest in Uzbekistan, interspersed with jokes and great insight into an observation of religious trends of new Islam, and whether the country is ready for religious freedom. He has a great mind for such topics and seems to take a very pragmatic approach to life. It has been interesting, listening to him talk about such subjects, particularly regarding young people who get into Islam without understanding the true values, which trying to combine a modern lifestyle with old traditions, in a way that isn't always successful.



We visited many wonderful medresses, in a city surrounded by an astounding display of architecture, each with their own embellishment of hand painted tiles, forming star shapes and circular patterns. We exit through wooden doorways, with carvings as intricate as the patterns on the walls. The city is so peaceful, with just a handful of tourists, discovering the secrets of central Asia, the architectural delights remain absent from the minds of most Westerners, whose idea of a holiday consists of little more than a beachside villa on mainland Spain, rather than something more adventurous. Khiva feels like an entirely different land, far removed from the Western world in both style and culture, having developed on a seperate path from the heritage that I am familiar with. I am looking forward to seeing more of Uzbekistan. Already, this is a place that I would like to return to, with people to share the experience with. It utterly preceeds my expectations, and runs only in parallel to Cambodia, for a place so visually stunning with likeable, easy going people.

The Karakum Desert, Turkmenistan

Since leaving Ashgabat, the following two days consisted of a long drive through the Karakum Desert, with sand dunes and heards of goats, scavaging for food. On the first night, we set up camp and pitched our tents as a family of wooly brown goats wandered over. I hearded them away from the cook group, who were trying to prepare dinner, and towards some discarded watermelon skins, which they happily chomped on. Despite being in the middle of nowhere, a few men on motorbikes passed through the dust track, and waved to us, all inquisative as to what we were doing. We must look quite an odd sight to locals, with a big orange truck and our dome tents.



As night fell, it was arranged for an old Russian truck to pick us up and take us to a flaming gas pit, with eruptions of fire, in a huge gas crater. Spurts of gas seemed to escape from the edges of the ground, creating swirling twisters of dust. Moths swooped over us, diving towards the flames in this apocalyptic vision of hell.



Taking the truck to and from the pit was an adventure in itself, as we stood in the back, griping onto a rickety bar, as the truck reved up, over sand dunes and ducking sharply down the other side, with a short beam of light providing the only warning of our unpredictable terrain. We clung on, during a journey that resembled a rollar coaster, hoping that such a primitive vehicle was up to the task of negotiating bumpy sand hills. It was an amazing experience, especially the gas crater, the heat that it produced and the contrast of the flames against the surrounding blackness.

The following night, we bush camped near a river, where some people took a swim, while dinner was prepared. The camp meal usually consists of potatoes, tomatoes, meat and anything that can be found at the local markets and cooked on our gas stove. Tonight the guys cooked us a meal of pasta, with onions and sausage in a tomato sauce. There was a beautiful sunset, which we watched dissapear being our tents. A camp fire was made, and we sat around what has been dubbed the 'bush television', eating our dinner and chatting away until we were sleepy enough to go to our tents.

Ashgabat, Turkmenistan

In the morning we drove to Ashgabat, passing Turkmenbashi Ruhy, the second biggest mosque in Asia along the way. It had glimmering gold domes, and a pool of fountains in front of the entrance. It was an impressive sight. The city of Ashgabat is quite a surreal place, built to indulge the fantasies of one man, as white marble buildings line the streets, with gleaming domes of blue and gold. The layout is grid like, with impossing marble building running in parrallel, and gardens blocked into rectangles. Golden statues and tranquil blue fountains are the normality here, and we accended the arch of neutrality for a birds eye view over the Sim City-esque creation. We tried to take photographs of the main square, but were stopped, the guards presuming our cameras were wide angle, capturing the forbidden presidentual buildings. We had to cross the roads precisely on the white lines, and where there were no lines, we were waved to the subway. Police and military guards continually stood on duty, around the city and even said hello to us.



On our walk around Ashgabat, we paused at the theatre and sat in the grounds, as local women gathered for a performance. Their dresses were so colourful and they smiled as we looked over, so I approached a few groups and photographed them. This seemed to cause much amusement, as the ladies laughed, revealing gold covered teeth. Many people seemed to know a few words of English.




A golden statue of Turkmenbashi on top of the Arch of Neutrality - there are lifts that go up to viewing platforms where you can photograph the city below.

We discovered the Russian market, with huge stalls, including an enticing display of homemade cake, so I sampled one with layers of rich chocolate and vanilla sponge, which was huge. The same portion may have served three people, in England. So all caked up, we returned to the luxurious hotel, to relax in an air conditioned room. The following day I enjoyed swimming in a beautifully clean, outdoor pool, as temperatures reached forty degrees.



In the evening we went to the English Pub out of curiosity as much as to make the most of a steak dinner, before heading off into the desert. The steak was good, although the tiramisu was a bit disapointing. They had an extensive drinks menu and did good cocktails. By eleven pm, a disco began, so we joined the locals on the dancefloor and enjoyed a lively night, with a Russian football game on the big screens, and dancers celebrating as their team won. We took a taxi back to the hotel in the early hours, for a few dollars. The eleven pm curfew seemed relevant to the streets, rather than being in a restaurant or club, particularly being seen walking infront of the presidentual buildings, so we made the most of a good night out.

The following morning we visited the Ashgabat market, a few km out of town. There was a lot of interesting jewelery, traditional Russian hats, fabric, carpets, clothes and just about everything that a community would need. The market stretched across a huge distance. I bought bags of fresh bread and a watermelon for the journey. I also managed to find a pretty wooden necklace for myself.