Tashkent to Samarkand

We started our day with a three-hour city tour with “Svetlana” the Soviet guide and got the Russian view of the city. Jack baited the guide and she left us gladly.
Lunch was greasy schnitzel and $5 beers and a Dove ice cream bar
Note: Average salary is 750soms--- $5/month
It was another long (4-½ hour) drive to Samarkand in the shake and bake.
Jack entertained us with stories of being in the bathroom of a restaurant hearing the chef in the next stall, grunting, and watching him walk out without washing his hands and heading into the kitchen to chop.
Our hotel in Samarkand was a former Communist party hotel. All the doors have been blown off their locks and everything is either unlit or has 20 watt bulbs.
Note: As tourists, you have to keep your official paper receipt until you exit the country.
We dropped our bags and grabbed a cab to town. We ran into Regina, the Aussie, at the outside bar by the Hotel Samarkand. We grabbed a few beers and exchanged cards.
Then we headed to the top floor of the Hotel Samarkand for spectacular views of the city.

It’s supposedly a restaurant, but there was no one there but a group of locals, Tajiks (the doormen from the hotel). We took our chances on some bread and french fries with cold beers and watched the sunset while trying to talk to the locals.
Back to the hotel -for 50 som.

Tashkent

A slow start in the morning.
Our Hotel signs:
* “All the water in this hotel has been personally passed by the management”
* “Ladies in this hotel will gladly flatten your underwear”
We flew to Tashkent on an Antinov 24 turbo prop and checked into our hotel with CNN and a free afternoon.
John grabbed a “Mir burger” for lunch while I was still feeling a little slow.
We headed to the city centre and found all the museums were closed.
We walked to the Hotel Tashkent, passing by the Tamerlane statue with the ironic inscription: “Strength – In Justice”

We found the Salty Dog and passed a few hours drinking beers and reading the paper before buying some wine and cheese and heading home to watch CNN and write postcards.

Kokand

An early a.m. breakfast and we were on the road to Kokand.

In Kokand, we saw the Palace, the Madressa, the Mosque and the Yak airplane in the park outside the Palace.

We had lunch in Margilan at the home of an arrogant silk master who spent the entire lunch telling us how wonderful he is (and his 2 wives and 8 children). Then, when Jack tried to buy a huge piece of his silk, he informed him that it’s not for sale. The Atlas House of Scraps.
Once again, we blew off the group early and had beers in the “garden” by the hotel. Our umbrella blew over and we got beer spilled all over us. We then had a major argument with the waiter about paying for the blown over beers. We finally paid him and told him, “ It’s “bad tourism”.
At dinner, we had wine (only one bottle of red left in the restaurant), cheese, no lights…. We cleaned them out of their entire wine stock—two bottles of bad rose.

Exploring Osh

Another huge meal… homemade jam, apple juice, honey, cheese, french toast

Our Hosts
We walked through the Osh market filled with goods from Turkey, Iran, UAE, Pakistan and India.

Then we headed to Babur’s house. It was an easy trek according to Angela, but James Brown almost died on the way up.

At Babur’s House, we watched women sliding down a rock for fertility. At the top, we met the wise man and got the story of Sulieman.

According to legend, Sulieman speaks more than 18,000 languages. When circling the earth, a light came from this mountain and God told him the wanted it to be one of his palaces, so Sulieman had his 40 giants divert the river and built a palace.

We had our lunch at a teahouse by the river. Sitting on a bed with rugs, eating plov (a fried rice with peppers and garlic, we watched the local Kyrgyz eat it with their hands.
Approaching the Uzbek border, we were stopped 4 times by the police, some within 200 meters of each other.
The border crossing was a breeze complete with a gorgeous border crossing guard. Pretty soon, we were taking photos, exchanging addresses and Jack gave him his “Cindy Crawford” T-shirt.
Finally we got to the town of Fergana and the best hotel in town with boy scout beds, no water when it rains and elevators that you need to jump in very quickly or they close on you and won’t open, no beer or wine in the bar.
We finally got to the bar/disco, found wine. When exiting the bar, the door was padlocked. To get out, you need to walk through the non-existent pane of glass.
Dinner with the group and we retired to our room. Our room was directly over the disco. John headed to the front desk and with a bit of sign language we changed rooms to the riverside.

From Kyrgystan to Uzbekistan - An exciting flight on a Yak

Another group free day. We headed off on our own to the map store and found a small antique store where we picked up a Lenin bust and a cast iron Joe Stalin plate from 1938.
We toured the museum again. Tammy explained the felt and embroidery techniques to us. John bought a Krygyz hat.
We had lunch at a Korean restaurant---Bi Bim Bap.

Angela, Jack and James Brown were all sick and the flight to Osh didn't help matters. We headed to Osh on a Yak.

Entry was through the rear of the plane with no seat assignments, no luggage check-in. All the passengers carry on their own luggage. The overhead bins had no doors, so they couldn't be used. The plane was very overloaded and oversold. The flight attendant grabbed a kid from his seat and made him sit on the luggage in the back. The takeoff was a high-speed flat takeoff. The stew served a few snacky cakes and then headed to the back of the plane. One of the pilots headed to the back, put the beautiful stew on his lap and got very close with her during the flight. He returned to the cockpit seconds before our high-speed landing. The pilots are the first to leave the plane, so all the passengers have to remain seated while they complete their final paperwork—all the while sitting in a steamingly hot plane with no a/c. This tiny prop plane had 5 pilots!

In Osh, we had a home stay with an older Russian/Ukraine couple.
They set out a huge feast of stuffed peppers, potatoes, cole slaw, cherry compote juice, dumplings, fresh tomato juice and home made ice cream. We were the only two well enough to eat and waddled to bed to read and drink wine.
It’s feeling more like we’re in Russia.
The old guy showed us his two dogs--one a German Shepherd and a huge black thing. He calls the black dog his “nigger” and says they’re “good police”.

Uzbekistan Map and Route

Bishkek

Hotel Bishkek—Our wonderfully customer focused receptionist spoke no English, so we finally find “Dinara” in the Business Center to help us check in.
One of the two elevators was broken no a/c, only 5 rooms with hot water.
Taxis in Bishkek aren’t marked.

We walked through Dubovy Park which was filled with strange statues and visited the bust of Felix Dzerzhinsky (founder of the Soviet secret police)
We walked to the State Museum of Fine Arts…. Boring.
Then we headed to the Frunze House/Museum. Fortunately we ran into a Russian girl who studied English for two years who walked us through the museum acting as our personal guide. Her interpretations were questionable (“Fruenze was a great friend of the Kyrgyz people”) but she made great sound effects. Then a local took us through the Fruenze house.
We headed to the Counsel Restaurant (recommendation of the paper bike-man) and found cold beer with an English menu.
We made up names for our group: Angela, the tour guide became “Polly- X-er” (polyanna + X-er).
After lunch we hiked to the Historical Museum. Kids were rollerblading and local kiosks blared rap music at the foot of the Lenin Statue.

The museum was amazing. The second floor was filled with heavy bronze socialist realism. featuring VI Lenin. On the third floor, there were touching Kyrgyz photos and art.
We grabbed a cab to the Issykul Hotel, known for it’s great views of the mountains and great Korean food. We had beers on the top floor with swallows swooping into their nests on the ceiling. When we asked for the menu, it was in Russian. We had traveled to the south of town for the much touted Korean restaurant—only to find one Korean item on the menu “Korean meat" -followed by Russian meat, French meat and chicken fish.
We tried to get a taxi from the hotel. They wanted to charge us 100 som. Since, we got to the hotel for 30 som, we walked out in disgust to the street. A few minutes later, a Toyota van stopped (not a taxi) and offered to take us to the Counsel Restaurant. We give him 30 som and discovered a whole new way of hailing taxis.
At the restaurant, we met an American couple living in Bishkek who gave us some great food recommendations. We had dinner through a huge thunderstorm…then headed home.

Tash-Rabat to Bishkek - Kyrgystan

Sleeping at 9000’ in a pup tent with a too small, too thin and uninsulated Russian K-Mart sleeping bag doesn’t make for a great nights’ sleep. It was rock hard ground and very cold but it was a mercifully calm night.

The local woman told us stories of how she married. The local Kirgyz tradition it that the man sees a girl he wants to marry and kidnaps her. She was kidnapped at 17 from the university.

James Brown quote of the day, “I’m glad I paid $300 a day for this…” (and he got the house to sleep in…. with the real sleeping bag…)
After breakfast, we finally got the group into the jeep for a trip to Tash Rabat, a 15thh C. caravanserai.

Photo courtesy of Flickr

After too much group coordination, we asked if we could hop a ride directly to Bishkek- blowing off Cholpan Alta and Lake Issykul. No problem- so we got our stuff and again blew off the group.
Our guide, Sergei was heard responding to a question about the history of Tash Rabat, “I don’t know anything about history”.
It was a 7 hour drive with a stop a Bob’s yurt for lunch—dried fish and noodles and beer.

We were almost to the top of the pass when the jeep started to lurch and sputter. The driver claimed bad gas, but the tank read empty. We ran on fumes until we got to the top and we coasted 8km down to find the only gas station that we’d seen all day.
Our driver was straight from central casting for a Russian soldier…. steely blue eyes, blonde hair, tall and lean.
The scenery was spectacular—wild horses and yaks, miles of poppies and snow-capped mountains. The new yurts look like tin railway cars on wheels. Lots of hero art throughout the countryside- concrete eagles and deer.
We arrived at Bishkek at 6:00 and headed to the Hotel Dostuk, a deluxe 50’s style suite with hot water, CNN, cold beer and laundry. We ordered dinner and got awful American food at outrageous prices- $51 for fried chicken cheese, bread and 2 bottles of wine.
We crashed and slept like babies—anything beats the tent.
Our floor lady tracked our every move.

Kashgar to Kyrgystan

Heading out of Kashgar, we got to see the local department store employees doing their morning exercises.

The storm left the roads in bad shape…. mudslides and landslides everywhere. We got through the border crossing (after at least 6 passport checks by the Chinese) They hold your passports if you need to use the facilities—as if you’d try to escape? Then we got to navigate the road to Kyrgystan. At the crossing, we ran into a seismologist who told us of the earthquake in Kashgar 1 ½ days ago, a magnitude 6. Most of the quakes are on the northern and southern flanks of the Tien Chien Mountains.

At the Kyrgyz border, we were picked up in a converted Russian army truck.

When we finally made it to the official border check, the border folks had gone to lunch and would be back at 3:00. We sat in the bus with a group of Aussies for 3 hours---drinking wine and eating sandwiches and trading stories. One of the women had to wrestle a goat out of her hotel. We finally got our passports stamped (you have to buy your declaration forms). We have to fill them in- in duplicate- then wait in line to go through document checks. After all that, we walked outside to a snow/hail storm.

It was 2 more hours of driving and we finally got to Bob’s yurts (and tent). The scenery was spectacular- miles of open green fields with huge snow-capped mountains. But there was very little wild life- only a few prairie dogs and, the hundreds of heavenly horses.

Bob’s yurt was next to a small local family house complete with cows, a crazed dog and an open-air “outhouse/pit”. We opted for the tent vs. the communal yurt.

Dinner was with the local family, a feast of vodka, potatoes, bread, great food, and toasts.

Fred, an independent Brit joined us and became the adopted mascot. He got a free ride, dinner and board.

Sergei pitched a two-man pup tent next to the yurt for us complete with sleeping bags on the ground and no pillows. We used our dirty laundry as pillows. A beer and flashlight wrapped up this day.

Kyrgystan Map and Route

Yarkand to Kashgar

Breakfast and it was back on the bus to the Taklamakan Desert. The guide and driver got lost and we drove for 1-½ hours, asking for directions every few km and finally made it to the desert. At Bob’s Big T Desert Jamboree, we walked the sand dunes for about 200-m into the desert.

Local kids showed up and Jack amazed and entertained them with balloons. They were thrilled. We thought we were on our way back when on the horizon a lone camel appeared and suddenly all four of the people (who swore they didn’t want to ride another camel) decided to take their turns being led through the dunes on a ratty ass camel. We opted to read by the bus.

Finally, we headed back for lunch and crafts. Lunch was outdoor dining at its best. It was Children’s Day- so it was a great people watch. Lunch was more noodles and samsa (dumplings with fatty pieces of lamb).
Then it was off to Ray’s Rugs and Frank’s Felts. We tried to get into Sam’ Silks but fortunately, it was closed.
It was a four-hour return with a slight detour due to flash flooding of the river. The river was running at 10’ over flood stage and it looked like it was running at least 30 mph. What was once a small creek when we left Kashgar was now over 200 yards wide. We tried to cross over at the main bridge but the police sent us back. The main bridge was underwater, so we diverted to the next bridge- only to find hordes of people; enforcer police and we were told that it would probably be 3-4 hours (the peak flood stage should be in about an hour and perhaps we could cross in 3 hours).

We headed for the local restaurant to drink tea with the police. An hour later, our guide through personal connections with the top officer arranged for a single vehicle to cross the bridge. It was an exciting crossing over a breathtakingly violent mud-filled river, but we made it across.
We returned to our hotel, blew off the group and headed to the Oasis Café. We did a blind taste test of the local beers….Xingjang beer won over Kashgar beer in two double blind tests. We had more good food and stayed until two obnoxious American couples with children arrived and all the patrons of the restaurant fled. We ordered beers for take out and headed for our room only to find a total power failure. All of the donkeys and the sheep went crazy.

Kashgar to Yarkand

Breakfast and onto the bus. Our first stop was the Idkah Mosque with its’ very specific rules:
Rule #6: Breaking wind and speaking loudly is forbidden.

Outside the mosque, we bought two Uighur fur hats. The backstreets form the old market district. It was like going back to medieval times with food stalls, small wood and metal working workshops and colorful balconies teetering over narrow alleys. We bought a spoon from Chef Mohammed, some silver bracelets.

Then we were off to the Sunday Market. It was one of the most amazing sites we’ve ever seen, a hodgepodge of people, animals, donkey carts, and smells.

The market is filled with old men with white beards in traditional Uighur fur-trimmed hats, long coats and boots, carrying televisions, donkey carts, Muslim women trading for cloth. We bought some raisins and saw all our new friends, the Brits, Mike and his wife (the Scots), Miles the climber and the smelly Germans.

The animal market was spectacular with four-year-old boys riding bareback on huge horses through the crowded market.

We bought some Uighur bread.

A guy trying to sell an ugly Uighur knife followed John through the market. He finally caved at the last minute and we were the proud owners of a really sharp, really ugly knife.

We found a local restaurant with some very fresh lamb hanging and kebabs on the grill. Inside there were two very large tables surrounded by benches filled with Uighurs. They were very surprised to see us arrive and made room for us at their tables. We were definitely the main entertainment that day. Lunch was noodles and kebabs and tea.
We made a quick stop in the jewelry section of the market and bought some earrings while being watched closely by old Uighur men pressing in to see every detail of the transaction.
We couldn’t leave without a quick stop by the largest Mao statue in China.

A local Han Chinese woman forced her baby in my arms to get a picture of the strange white woman.
Then it was off to the mausoleum of the Perfume Concubine (a.k.a. Fragrant Concubine) The mausoleum houses a collection of unmarked tombs.

The “facilities” left a lot to be desire—two boards over nothing. We decided to start a 5 star rating system for bathrooms.
Then, we were on the road again for 4 hours of bounce and jounce to Yarkand and the gloomiest Soviet style hotel with strange smells. We set out to find beer in Muslim land and didn’t have to look far. We headed a block from our hotel and found a spot filled with outdoor cafes and Uighur men drinking beer and playing pool and spitting everywhere.
We caved in and settled for a group dinner then headed back “downtown” to check out the action.

We shared a table with some locals drinking beer and some kind of rice wine. John taught them to say South-Park-ism’s like “Cheesy Poofs and Snacky Cakes and Hi-di-ho. The little girl with the family next door was fascinated with us. We gave her a pen and wrote “Hello” on a piece of paper for her.

Jack headed to the local barber and got a complete shave—they shaved his eyelids, his ears while sticking their fingers in his mouth to get the closest possible shave.