So, after a long pause in updating that has left all of you I'm sure hanging in suspense, I am back online to complete the tale of Uzbekistan.
We arrived in Khiva with a mix of different kinds of transport. We took a bus to Burani, a town north of Khiva, then took a shared taxi to Urgench, and then another shared taxi to Khiva. Transport plus waiting for taxis to fill up ended up being most of the afternoon, but we spent 7000 sum each instead of 20,000 each, which a non-shared taxi door-to-door would have cost from Nukus to Khiva. We opted for price rather than speed, since of course we were on vacation and were not in any rush.
Khiva is a beautifully preserved old city, complete with city walls, mosques, medressas, and minarets. Lonely Planet complains that all the life has been squeezed out of it as a result of all the restoration that has kept the old town looking as good as it did, but I think that it's just the opposite. Many locals live in the Old Town and go about their normal lives in among all the mosques, it was easy to imagine ancient days with the hustle and bustle of market day.
Immediately when we got out of our shared taxi, a man stepped out of another taxi and recommended a homestay to us. We didn't have any preference, and for $10 per person per day with breakfast, it sounded like a great deal. And it really was a wonderful guesthouse. We had a private Western bathroom, an air conditioner (that really didnät work) and our own balcony, and there was a rooftop terrace with an amazing view of all of Khiva. We had dinner in the guesthouse on the roof and watched the sun set over the old fortifications and the minarets.
It was quite hot, and we spent two days just wandering around. We didn't pay to go into any museums or mosques, because we'd already seen our fair share of souvenier-shop-filled old brick buildings. But even just walking around the Old Town there was a lot to see.
We spent our last day in Khiva not even in Khiva. We got a taxi for $40 to take us around to some old forts in the surrounding desert of Khiva, about 1.5 hours from the Old Town. The driver knew where to find the forts, which are spread around a large area of desert. Archaeologists believe that there may be 50 forts in the area, and it is therefore named Elliq Qala, which means, of course, 50 Forts. We went to three forts, 2 of which we could walk around. They were quite well preserved, and even though they are more or less just different shaped piles of packed dirt, part of the fun was imagining how different it looked in its prime. We also stopped at lake Ayaz, which is a salty lake right in the middle of the desert. We had wanted to swim, but when we got to the lake and saw that it was quite gross-looking, with deep stinking sand/slush and lots of flies, we decided to just dip our feet in. It was still strange to see a bunch of seagulls in the middle of vast expanses of sand!
We then took a bus to Bukhara, where we spent a few days when we were in Uzbekistan in winter, but at that time it was so cold that we really didn't see everything there was to see. We spent most time in our hotel room watching satellite Arabic girls dancing around trying to get men to call in. This time, I was determined to do more sightseeing, even though all the tourists we'd met said that Bukhara was the hottest place they'd been. We were directed to a hotel by our taxi driver, who of course wanted us to stay in his friend's hotel. It was quite a swanky one, with a great courtyard. Tourist season was over, so we got a double room that was normally $50 for $25 including breakfast, satellite TV (broken), an air conditioner (not broken!!) and a shower with HOT WATER. Not too bad. I did the bargaining myself too, which made me feel quite good considering I usually hate it and I'm pretty bad at it. Mike is the master at haggling. I'll just leave it up to him whenever I can.
The thing we spent most of our time doing was looking at antique pieces of Uzbek fabric. I had wanted to buy one in Khiva but didn't, and then it turned out that the pattern I had really liked was unpopular and most of the people I talked to in Bukhara had thrown out their fabric in that pattern because no tourists wanted to buy it. But I learned from different salespeople the exact description and origin of the pattern I wanted, so it was quite easy to go from stall to stall saying I wanted Urgutskie suzani, and it makes shopping so much easier when sellers don't try to interest you with this and that that you really don't want. It was in-and-out, and finally I was able to find exactly what I wanted, and get them for amazing prices. I was even congratulated by the owner of our hotel for getting them so cheap! He asked how much I paid and I said 15,000, and he said '50,000? Good price!' and I said 'No FIFTEEN' and he couldn't believe it. He said it was local price, and that tourist price is MUCH more. So Bukhara was a good place for my haggling :)
In Bukhara we found a nice restaurant that had the first good fried laghman since we left Bishkek, and we found the mauseleum where Somoni was buried, the man who the Tajik currency is named after. Both Bukhara and Samarkand are predominantly Tajik towns, so it's not surprising for him to be there. We also found yet more medressas that we hadn't seen the first time around. It was really hot, but not as bad as we'd been expecting after all the stories.
We took a night train to Tashkent, and it was probably one of the most uncomfortable nights I've ever had. The train was HOT, and it was a newer sleeping car so instead of windows that pulled down to open, the tilted out, so there was barely any breeze. A bunch of policemen took up the sitting room under our beds, so we had to lie in bed the whole time while they were all underneath drinking and doing crossword puzzles. When we arrived in Tashkent I was terribly sweaty, tired because I hadn't really slept, and super dehydrated. When we arrived in Tashkent the hotel we wanted had no double room, so then I really wanted to cry and not have to find another place. We decided to go to a Lonely Planet guesthouse that it said was hard to find, and we got a taxi driver who looked at the map and seemed to have some idea where he was going. He didn't of course, and didn't believe when I told him he was going the wrong way. Finally we just got out because he couldn't find it, and luckily we weren't too far from where we were supposed to be. We found a nice driver who knew the place exactly and dropped us off there for free. It was $15 per person per night, but it had air conditioning and breakfast and I was way too narky to want to find another place.
I took a nap and a MUCH needed shower, and then we wandered around Tashkent some more. We spent 6 days in Tashkent in total in winter and Mike really didn't want to have to go back, but I thought there were still some things we could see. It was the hottest it had been the whole trip so we didnt feel like doing much, but the best thing was Aqua Park, possibly Central Asia's only worthwhile waterpark. Lonely Planet said it was 3000 sum ($2), but the price had gone up to 15,000 sum for 3 hours. We paid it and dogeared the page as yet another complaint to write to Lonely Planet about, but really enjoyed a few different swimming pools and some much needed tanning time.
We repacked our bags and caught an early morning flight to Istanbul. I worried that I might have some problems at the airport, as I had a felt rug, 2 antique pieces of fabric and a bullet from the Tajik-Afghan border in my bag, but it turned out that Mike was the one with the problems.
In his words...'At the airport in Tashkent, I went through all various checks until I go to the Passport Control. The guy behind the desk looked at my passport for a split second before telling me in Russian that there was a 'problem.' My passport, apparently, didn't work and I needed to pay the guy some money to get through. I suddenly lost all ability to understand anything he said at the mention of money and played dumb. I knew my passport was fine, just as it has been for the last 10 years. The guy called his supervisor who then tried to tell me I didn't have a visa. I pointed it out to him. Then he told me that I didn't have the correct stamp. i pointed it out to him. Finally, he dragged me off in the direction of a third guy. This one spoke some English and then tried to tell me that the picture in the passport wasn't me. Usually, this is an understandable mistake. The picture was taken when I was 16, I have short hair and no beard. This time, though, I had shaved my beard off and had an haircut so for the first time in years I actually DID look like my passport picture! I explained how time works and that no man is left unaffected. This didn't deter them... now it was a challenge. I wasn't going to pay them a penny, but they couldn't put so much effort in for nothing. Their last trick was to claim my passport was fake. I stood my ground and told them I'd wait for them to verify. Finally, they gave in and threw my documents back at my with contempt. '
Thus ended almost one year in Central Asia. All in all, it was a great experience, but I can't say I'd recommending life in Bishkek to anyone.
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