I spent four weeks in Uzbekistan.
My flight arrived in Tashkent around midnight and instead of dealing with the taxi mafia, I elected to spend the night in the arrival terminal. The next morning I caught a flight to Urgench, taking advantage of the fact that my bike was still boxed.
My plan was to unpack my bike at the Urgench airport and ride the 35km to Khiva. Urgench itself was an uninspiring industrial town in the middle of the Kyzyllum desert. But when I arrived, I didn't expect 1. for the airport terminal to be closed so that passengers were just
dumped on the runway, and 2. for the temperature to be -20C. These two factors caused me to wimp out and hail a taxi for the ride to Khiva.Khiva! What a place! An ancient silk road city that is almost completely preserved, its charm comes from its quiet dusty streets, its Islamic architecture, its ancient city walls, and the groups of old men with white beards drinking tea and socializing in the warming sun. I arrived in the low season (because it was so cold) and several guest houses were closed. Restaurants were also hard to find and I had to self-cater from the bazaar for the 3 days that I was there. The positive aspect of this is of course having the place all to myself. It seemed that many of the souvenir hawkers didn't even bother opening shop at that time of the year.
After a few days the temperature increased +5C and I decided to go to Bukhara, 560km to the east. I took the bus to Bukhara because by bike it would take 4 days through flat featureless desert. I am not one of those hardcore cyclists.
I met one of those hardcore cyclists in Bukhara. Kokoro Ito is a Japanese cyclist on a 4 year
around the world trip and he's been on the road for 17 months. Cycling through rough terrain has given him a Buddha-like serenity. He covers huge distances in a day, yet speaks slowly and deliberately. His blog is in Japanese.Bukhara was pretty interesting with a good representation of Islamic architecture. There's over 100 protected buildings. It's small enough that I can cycle from one end to the other in under 20 minutes. But for me, what's important is that it's got all the touristy comforts.
beginning to appreciate the importance of my mp3 player, but I've also found that many of theI began my cycling by riding 270km to Samarkand. The terrain was flat and mostly desert. I am legit tracks I purchased from Wal-Mart have a DRM license problem. Hence, I am listening to nothing but classical, which is reflective music and not cycling music. When I got to Samarkand, I tried to find an internet cafe where I can somehow update the DRM license. It took me 2 days to find an "INTEPHNET CLUB" with an actual internet connection, as most places were taken over by kids playing counterstrike on LAN. And after I found a place, it was filled with smoke and loud from all the kids shouting as they kill each other. I was finally defeated by a combination of the Russian Windows XP, Windows Media Player 9 (I need at least 10), and various admin software that locks up internet cafe computers.
Samarkand was comfortable enough to warrant 5 days.
I've decided to skip Tajikistan because it's simply too early in the year for the high mountains. Going into Tajikistan would involve a 3500m pass and the route through the country goes through similarly high elevations. It's a shame because I paid $160 for the Tajik visa.
Cycling to Tashkent took 3 days. The terrain was flat and the roads paved so I was able to go pretty fast. Tashkent is a worldly city, with Central Asia's only metro system. It's a Russianized city with wide boulevards, giant public squares, and large parks dispersed throughout the city. It's a pretty decent place to live with modern conveniences and good weather. The opera only costs $1.50. Tashkent is vibrant and worldly enough that when I walk down the street, people don't stop and stare at me. I stayed for 5 days, talking to other tourists and watching CNN.
If your impression of Uzbekistan up to this point is that it's a flat country with uninspiring scenery, then you're absolutely right. But what Uzbekistan lacks in scenery it more than makes up for in culture. I don't mean just the silk road cities of Khiva, Bukhara, and Samarkand. I'm referring to the exceptional hospitality that is a fundamental part of the Uzbek identity. These must be the most hospitable people in the world. Here the dogs don't chase you, the kids don't throw stones, nor do they run after you asking for "one pen." Whenever I stop at an intersection with a quizzical look on my face as if I'm lost, several Uzbeks will come to my aid. I've eaten at least one free meal for every day spend on the bike, and I'm always confident that I'll have a roof over my head because people will invite me to stay at their house. If I wanted a free meal, all I have to do is attempt a conversation with the people around me. Pretty soon a crowd will gather, vodka will probably be imbibed, and I will not be allowed to pay when I leave.
Iam now in Osh, Krygystan, where I've found the fastest internet connection thus far. Sitting next to me is a kid probably less than 5 years old, his feet don't touch the ground, his tiny arms completely outstretched, his chin barely at keyboard level and his butt with such a slight footprint on the chair that it looks like he's about to fall off. The headphones cover his ears and a good part of his chin. He's playing a computer game all by himself. Very cute.
The People
The Food
1. Shashlyk is a staple of this region. There are two kinds of shashlyk. My favorite is the version with pieces of mutton interspersed with pieces of fat. The fat melts and gives moisture to the surrounding meat. The grilling also gives the fat a crunchy outside, and when you bite into it the fat inside is partially melted. The other version has the meat, fat, and spices minced together. Shashlyk is served with chopped onions, sprinkled with seasoned vinegar.
3. Laghman to Chinese people is probably "Lahmein" (pulled noodles). Noodles of varying thickness with a firm consistency are immersed in a mutton based soup. Potatoes and carrots often find their way into laghman and sometimes a spoonful of yogurt is added. Like every other dish, a frisbee sized piece of bread called non (pronounced like the Indian naan), is served alongside. People break the bread into little pieces and put it into the soup to soak up the liquids. They then eat the noodles with a fork and put the bony pieces of mutton and chunks of vegetables on a plate. The soup soaked non is then eaten and the bowl cleaned with dry non. Then the mutton and vegetables are dispatched by wrapping it in the remaining non. All of this is washed down with tea, which is served with everything.
4. Somsa. In the West we would probably call it samosas. It's either filled with potatoes or mutton. I love the food here because mutton is in everything.
