I was very excited to be in Samarkand. It's the city I was looking forward to visiting most on the trip. The buildings sounded amazing and the history as a major trading city on the Silk Road makes it sound so special. I wasn't dissapointed! The hostel was full of other travellers including Damian and John, I'd met in Bukhara and Marc and Camille again. Was great to see them and we had a few days to wait over the weekend until my package arrived. There were about 12 other cyclsists there, Samarkand is on everybody's route through Central Asia.Over the weekend we visited most of the sights. The Registan with it's huge medrassas and tilting minarets, a huge mosque, the tomb of Timur and an avenue of tombs with amazing mosiac tiles.
One night we bribed the gaurd to let us up one of the minarets in the Registan at sunset. It was an amazing climb up a spiral staircase in the dark and then there was only room for us to poke our heads out the top one at a time for an incredible view over the ancent city. I read a poem in the lonely planet guide which really captured the moment and the jourey so far. Apologies - I'm not usually into poetry but this one was perfect for that moment!
"We do not travel for traffiking alone
By hotter winds our fiery hearts are fanned
For lust of knowing what should not be known
We take the Golden Road to Samarkand"
My parcel finally arrived on Tuesday and Paul and me planned to leave the next day. I got stung by a bee and my arm swelled up and was very painful especially when I cycled over bumps in the road. We had a goodbye meal with Marc and Camille and a Swiss couple and left early the next day with a Portuguese couple who were also on the way to the Pamir highway.
The ride out of Samarkand was beautiful, quickly the road started climbing up a moutnain road with small villiages and people everywhere. We stopped at a shop and bought eggs to cook for lunch then slept for a couple of hours during the hottest part of the day. Over the top of the pass, the road was amazing, looking down we could see it snaking its way down to a plain to the cirty of Shahrisabz, Timur's birthplace. Paul and me stopped for a Chai before riding down to the city where we arrived at dusk. We were offered a place to sleep by an old man who we followed on our bikes to his beautiful house. They grew all their vegetables in the garden and had a cow for milk. His wife quickly made us some food although we'd already eaten and we slept outside under grape vines.
After an early breakfast we went to Timur's tomb, which was built for him but he wasn't buried in it because the mountian pass was covered in snow when he died so he was buried in Samarkand instead. There was an amnazing mosque and ruined palace with the same architecture as Samarkand, but unrestored. We headed out of the city across the plain and again slept through the hottest part of the day. The next couple of days were great. We didn't cover much distance but ate lots of food and drank huge amounts of Chai! One night we stayed in the garden of a Chaihana, and the next in a farmers field. All the time people offered us food and one even gave us money despite our protests. On the last full day in Uzbekistan we crossed an amazing desert near Boysun, with rock formations, canyons and huge mountains. It was a tough day with lots of climbing but 100km later we arrived at the farm, having been given 3 melons, 6,000 sum (about 3 dollars) and some bread.
The next day we set off at about 5 and passed the city of Denov, a bustling market town which was infuriating. I looked after the bikes while Paul went to get his passport copied for his Kyrgyzstan visa which he needed to get in Dushanbe tomorrow. Within 5 minuted I was surrounded by a crowd of about 200. It was unbelievable. They were all over the road and the cars couldn't get past. They just stared at me until some policemen came and moved them away. It was only so they could have a look at the tourist though! Not many cyclists pass this way because most cross the border between Samarkand and Penjikent. It's closed at the moment though so we had to detour this way.
After this unpleasent experience we escaped from the city and got to a Chaihana 10 km from the Tajik border. My love of Uzbekistan was restored when we were invited over by 3 old men who bought us a huge lunch and tried to give us vodka although we resisted!
10 km later we were at the border and crossed it easily, with no fine for our lack of registration papers.
Uzbekistan was an amazing experience. Infuriating at times but on the whole great. Lovely people, amazing cities, desert, mountains, good cycling company, visa sucess and unbeatable hospitality (unless you go to Georgia!). The downside was intrusive staring, being treated like an attraction rather than a person, unbelievably bad driving, bad food, terrible heat and illness. That's travel though and the good definately outweighed the bad!
One night we bribed the gaurd to let us up one of the minarets in the Registan at sunset. It was an amazing climb up a spiral staircase in the dark and then there was only room for us to poke our heads out the top one at a time for an incredible view over the ancent city. I read a poem in the lonely planet guide which really captured the moment and the jourey so far. Apologies - I'm not usually into poetry but this one was perfect for that moment!
"We do not travel for traffiking alone
By hotter winds our fiery hearts are fanned
For lust of knowing what should not be known
We take the Golden Road to Samarkand"
My parcel finally arrived on Tuesday and Paul and me planned to leave the next day. I got stung by a bee and my arm swelled up and was very painful especially when I cycled over bumps in the road. We had a goodbye meal with Marc and Camille and a Swiss couple and left early the next day with a Portuguese couple who were also on the way to the Pamir highway.
The ride out of Samarkand was beautiful, quickly the road started climbing up a moutnain road with small villiages and people everywhere. We stopped at a shop and bought eggs to cook for lunch then slept for a couple of hours during the hottest part of the day. Over the top of the pass, the road was amazing, looking down we could see it snaking its way down to a plain to the cirty of Shahrisabz, Timur's birthplace. Paul and me stopped for a Chai before riding down to the city where we arrived at dusk. We were offered a place to sleep by an old man who we followed on our bikes to his beautiful house. They grew all their vegetables in the garden and had a cow for milk. His wife quickly made us some food although we'd already eaten and we slept outside under grape vines.
After an early breakfast we went to Timur's tomb, which was built for him but he wasn't buried in it because the mountian pass was covered in snow when he died so he was buried in Samarkand instead. There was an amnazing mosque and ruined palace with the same architecture as Samarkand, but unrestored. We headed out of the city across the plain and again slept through the hottest part of the day. The next couple of days were great. We didn't cover much distance but ate lots of food and drank huge amounts of Chai! One night we stayed in the garden of a Chaihana, and the next in a farmers field. All the time people offered us food and one even gave us money despite our protests. On the last full day in Uzbekistan we crossed an amazing desert near Boysun, with rock formations, canyons and huge mountains. It was a tough day with lots of climbing but 100km later we arrived at the farm, having been given 3 melons, 6,000 sum (about 3 dollars) and some bread.
The next day we set off at about 5 and passed the city of Denov, a bustling market town which was infuriating. I looked after the bikes while Paul went to get his passport copied for his Kyrgyzstan visa which he needed to get in Dushanbe tomorrow. Within 5 minuted I was surrounded by a crowd of about 200. It was unbelievable. They were all over the road and the cars couldn't get past. They just stared at me until some policemen came and moved them away. It was only so they could have a look at the tourist though! Not many cyclists pass this way because most cross the border between Samarkand and Penjikent. It's closed at the moment though so we had to detour this way.
After this unpleasent experience we escaped from the city and got to a Chaihana 10 km from the Tajik border. My love of Uzbekistan was restored when we were invited over by 3 old men who bought us a huge lunch and tried to give us vodka although we resisted!
10 km later we were at the border and crossed it easily, with no fine for our lack of registration papers.
Uzbekistan was an amazing experience. Infuriating at times but on the whole great. Lovely people, amazing cities, desert, mountains, good cycling company, visa sucess and unbeatable hospitality (unless you go to Georgia!). The downside was intrusive staring, being treated like an attraction rather than a person, unbelievably bad driving, bad food, terrible heat and illness. That's travel though and the good definately outweighed the bad!
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