From heaven to hell

The glistening ancient holy cities of Uzbekistan: Samarkand, Bukhara and Khiva have been fought over and conquered many times leaving a complicated and colourful trail of history.  Khans trying to outdo each other in grandeur, building bigger and more beautiful mosques, medressas and minarets each time they were destroyed or damaged by earthquakes.  There is so much history involved, a fraction of which was imparted to us over full day tours in each of the cities. 

In Samarkand, Timur’s chosen Capital, Dilya guided us around the truly breathtaking Registan, the centerpiece of the city, built between the 15^th & 17^th centuries, arguably some of the oldest medressas in the world, anything older having been destroyed by Gengis Khan.  Most of the old dormitory rooms now souvenir and craft shops tempting us with their wares at every turn.

Amir Temur Mausoleum

Wedding at the Registan

Wedding guests in their finest

We do love a group photo

The Blue Steel version

An idiot abroad?

Vicky & Dr Bruce dressing up

Vicky, Mind, Sam, Tan & Rich

Locals having a game of backgammon

Anyone for some fried beef?

An early alarm call to watch the sunrise at the Registan was well worth it, for a small fee to the guard on duty you could enter the back corridors and climb in the dark up a narrow circular stairway. Popping out on top of the minaret in the early morning light, the city yet to wake sprawled out quietly below.

Mark & Rogs sneaking along the hidden corridors of the medressa

Winding staircase up to the minaret

Popping out of the top at sunrise

Stunning views over Samarkand

Sunlight turning the blue tiles gold

Another Dr Bruce wow-a-rama

When not out pounding the pavements, we enjoyed the rather plush spacious hotel lobby area.  With huge sofas, soft carpets and widescreen TV (in between power cuts) we played games and devoured takeaway pizza, delivered to the door, a rare treat.

Rogs posing for his calendar shot - move over Farmers Weekly, this time it's Mechanics Monthly

Rich, Sam and Phill's group effort window cleaning

As our journey continued westward the cities grew smaller but the monuments no less enchanting.  Bukhara was the next stop where Jalol joined us and gave an entertaining and educated tour through the city.  Mid-afternoon our brains were satiated and a few tried to break off, unable to resist the lure of the shops or a quick siesta, but Jalol’s enthusiasm willed us on and we finished the full day tour tired but triumphant as a complete group.

Old water cistern

Linc & Bree

Colourful Bukhara

Hoja Nasreddin

Lisa

Suzie, Sue, Rae & Lisa

Lyabi Hauz, the centre of Bukhara

Old Russian drinks vending machine

The tempting crafts of Bukhara

Beautiful ceramics

Decorative bread stamps

Soviet memorabilia

A quick turnaround at the attractive Lyabi House Hotel in the Jewish quarter and it was time for a big celebration.  Dave’s 60^th birthday, which he also shared with wife Suzie who turned 60 just before the trip but hadn’t celebrated properly.  The theme of hats and headdresses was embellished with a monobrow early on in the proceedings at the pre-dinner wine tasting. The monobrow used to be considered very attractive and many older Uzbek women still draw in a severe looking line to join their brows.  On arrival at the lovely Minzifa restaurant we were complimented on our look, without any hint of sarcasm.  They quite rightly hid us away in a beautifully decorated private room, a local pianist accompanying the merriment with familiar tunes to sing along to.  She even managed to continue when the birthday boy clambered on top of the piano to recline.  We were waited on tirelessly by a young 16 year old waiter, faced with a room full of 24 lively foreigners he was not fazed in the slightest.  Only coming slightly unstuck when he had to report there was no more beer, they’d already cleared the nearby shops of their stocks! We ended the night with some fruity shisha pipes instead.

Hats, head dresses and monobrow time!

Our wine tasting host

Barb, Rae, Tan, Judy & Sue

Vicky & Hels rocking the brow

Bruce & Phill

Suzie giving Jalol a good one

Chris couldn't hide her distaste for that particular wine

Adrian

The calm before the storm

Birthday boy Dave aka Heidi

Is that not real hair Heidi?

Phill tries to tempt Heidi away from Hansel

Linc

Jalol & Tan do the tango

Father and son, Phill & Sam

Hels tinkles the ivories for the birthday couple

Tan goes flying

Rae & Sue

Judy

Our lovely waiter with a handful of cash (from only one table!)

Bukhara by night

Later the same night...

How we felt the next day...

After a free day to rest, recover and explore the rest of Bukhara we set off for Khiva, a full day’s drive, although the road much improved than in previous years meant we breezed along mainly on new tar, what a lovely surprise.

Moving house are we?

The short section of the old sandy road to Khiva

Rogs in his new driving hat

Another quick stop for a fuel blockage

Khiva, smaller still but more intimate, the historic centre immaculately preserved, contained by huge walls with entry gates at the four main compass points.  Our hotel here, the Orient Star, is also worth a mention, occupying the building of an old medressa with bags of character, rooms tucked away along narrow corridors and up steep stone staircases.  Two nights here was just enough to avoid doing too much shopping, the crafts ever more beautiful and Khiva being particularly known for their wood carving skills.

Khiva's city walls

Kala Minor unfinished minaret

Plan of the historical city

Off on tour once again

Peepo

Sundowners on the roof

Looking down over Khiva

More tempting crafts

Wee booties

More decorative bread stamps

The back streets of Khiva

Dr Bruce and his photography fans

Our beautiful hotel

Onwards towards Istanbul

It was on leaving Khiva we had to say a difficult farewell to Dave & Phill who, for reasons unknown, were not granted visas to Turkmenistan.  Leaving their wives behind on the trip they will hopefully enjoy a boy’s own adventure, the first step an overnight train back to Tashkent, before rejoining us in Baku, Azerbaijan.

Phill waving us off

Dave snapping to the last

Our border crossing into Turkmenistan fell on another holiday, we do seem to have planned the trip to coincide with as many national holidays on border crossing dates as possible.  This one worked in our favour as we were virtually the only people there, the border being closed to everyone but foreigners.  No jostling to keep your place in the queue here.  We breezed through quietly and then sat waiting patiently in the sun whilst the truck was searched and paperwork completed.  We also waved goodbye to Jalol, grateful for his wealth of information and sense of humour which had brightened up the tours and left us with a rounded view of the country.

Welcome to Turkmenistan

City of marble and opulence

Entering Turkmenistan fuel prices dropped to 20 US cents a litre, compared to over a dollar for black market diesel out of jerry cans in Uzbekistan.  As well as noticing immediate changes in the culture, people and scenery, we also see a different selection of cars on the road.  In Kyrgyzstan the imported car reigned, Hondas being a favourite as well as Audis and BMWs on every corner, in the more rural areas however the Lada is King.  In Uzbekistan there was an instant shift to the Daewoo and Chrysler, manufactured in the country.  Now in Turkmenistan they seem to have a particular fondness for the Vauxhall.

Sunset over a salt pan near our bush camp

Another animal captured by Lisa

A frosty morning at bushcamp

Our drive from North to South across the Karakum desert in Turkmenistan was completely cloudless giving us super starry nights and chilly mornings.  The highlight of our crossing, and for some of the trip so far, was a visit to the Darvaza gas craters.  The artificial craters, the result of abandoned Soviet experiments, contain bubbling mud, water and the piece de resistance, fire. 

The bubbling mud crater

Rae peering over the edge

Don't forget to turn all the taps off

Another fine desert bushcamp

aka Dead Camel Camp

After preparing homemade burgers and a huge bubbling potato gratin for dinner we boarded a beast of a Kamaz truck, better equipped than Calypso to plough through the soft sand to the fire crater.  The glow appeared in the distance and as we clambered down from the truck we felt a wall of heat.

Wafer-thin potatoes for a delicious gratin

Robbie back on form and in the kitchen

All hands on deck for burger making

A friendly visitor to camp

Our meaty Kamaz truck for the crater visit

Hels and her new wheels

Calypso vs Kamaz

A bumpy old ride

There she is!

We were delighted to find a team of (also not unattractive and very very cool) scientists, geologists and climbers from National Geographic there with ropes rigged up across the crater.  Lisa had gone ahead from the camp on foot and Rich hot on her heels for a run and they were lucky enough to see one of the team winched across the rope in a fire suit which wouldn’t have looked out of place on a spaceship.  Making a documentary to be broadcast in March next year they had lowered thermometers down and discovered the centre was “cooler” than the edges, a mere 50 degrees Centigrade.  The following day at dusk they planned a world first, to lower a man down to walk around inside the crater.  We’ll certainly be tuning in to watch that next year.

National Geographic team

Rogs & Hels

Mark & Vicky

In other news, we have finally got to the bottom of the problem with our fuel system whose blockages have caused us many more stops than we have recorded here and a few more in recent days, they just became too tedious to mention!  The pesky little fuel transfer pump, not used since Kathmandu, had been depositing bits of its disintegrated internal filter in the tank and blocking the pipes.  Hopefully that’s the end of Rogs’s recent twice daily sucking of diesel, yummy.

Movember is now in full swing, the chaps appearing freshly shaved on the 1^st November to begin the moustache growing competition, the follicly challenged need fear not for it’s not just the length of the mo that will win, there will be many more factors in the final judging to be taken into account.

We’re now in Ashgabat for a couple of nights, resting our feet and stocking up in preparation for our Caspian Sea crossing.

No desert is complete without its camels

A taste of Ashgabat - more to come next time!