Uzbekistan

I hope this finds you well.

We started our tour of Uzbekistan in Tașkent, the capital city of modern Uzbekistan, which only came into being in 1991, with the breakup of the USSR, under Mihail Gorbachev.

It is a city of fascinating contradictions: an extensive subway system with gorgeous, ornate stations and bullet trains linking cities that reach 125 mph, but also hotels where the government shuts off the electricity in the middle of the night. Hotels have generators that kick in, but ALL lights in ALL rooms would suddenly go on at 2 am! Wide arterials 99% full of white cars, 99% of which are locally made Chevrolets, have either pedestrian overpasses or walking tunnels, but the sidewalks suddenly become dirt pathways without warning. Endless ways to drink caffeine, but no herbal teas.

Of course Tașkent has existed as an important, indeed somewhat mystical city, a major stop on the Silk Road, the trading route that brought silk, spices and other exotic goods out of China to the west starting in the 2nd century BCE and brought western goods such as horses, camels, honey, wine, and gold back to China.

It also brought ideas crucial for the spread of religions like Buddhism and early Christianity, as well as the transmission of art, music, and technology. We saw beautiful mosques and madrassas with intricate tile work and busy, working markets selling goods from all over the world (with an unsurprising number coming from China).

From Taşkent, we took a bullet train 2.5 hours to Şamarqand, an even more famous stop on the Silk Road. Samarqand is one of the oldest continuously settled cities in Cental Asia, having first been settled in the 8th century BCE.

The city has carefully preserved the traditions of ancient crafts: embroidery, goldwork, silk weaving, copper engraving, ceramics, wood carving, and wood painting. It became a UNESCO World Heritage site in 2001. Again, we were continuously amazed by the intricate tile work in mosques and madrassas (colleges for advanced Islamic education).

From Şamarquand, we got back on the bullet train to Bukhara. We stayed in the Jewish Quarter in a newly renovated hotel. The highlight here was the Art Biennial, which showed different pieces of modern art in historic settings.

From Bukhara, we boarded a large bus to drive about 175 miles across the Kyzylkum (or Red) Desert, which skirts the border with Kazakahstan. It covers about 115,000 square miles (Uzbekistan, by comparison, covers about 173,000 square miles). We stopped at several rest stops and, once, along the highway to walk out into the desert. After crossing a band of cans thrown by passing trucks, we started to see animal scat and small burrows that led to underground dens. We were not able, unfortunately, to experience the desert silence because of the truck traffic.

We reached Khiva by sunset, and were immediately taken by its beauty. The entire walled city was declared a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1991. Its history dates back more than 2,500 years when it became a vital stop on the Silk Road. It contains more than 50 monuments and is home to over 3,000 inhabitants. Wagon wheels were reinforced with large nails to allow them to navigate cobblestone streets without shattering the wood.

Winter hats were a big thing when we were there because temperatures went down to the high 30s at night and rose to the mid-60s during the day. Even if you didn’t want to purchase one, merchants were doing a brisk business selling the right to have your picture taken in one.

The city is kept meticulously clean by hardworking sweepers, and the government is constantly restoring different sections of the monuments as they succumb to the elements. At one mosque, we were intrigued by a procession led by a young boy. When we spoke with his father, thanks to Google Translate, he told us proudly that his son was 4 years old, and the special occasion was for his circumcision. We were reminded yet again how travel enriches our lives by giving us a window into how others live.

Next we go to Istanbul for a little R&R, before flying home.

Stay well,

Marc