Olice In Wonderland

It was surprisingly smooth as I rode the 100kms or so from Angren to Tashkent. I knew the road would be pretty flat, and the road quality was pretty good, so I zipped along quickly. The traffic only really got heavy much closer to the city, instead of for the whole route. Lucky.

Another Capital

Tashkent, the capital of Uzbekistan, is by far the largest city in the whole of Central Asia, and is its main hub.

As I was cycling in to the sprawling place I was thinking of how some things have completely changed for me on this journey.

In my earlier incarnation, cycling into a big Asian city would have had me wondering about routes, about how dangerous it might be, about highway access, about how to avoid traffic, blah blah blah.

But these days I'm so used to it, after the large number of cities I've negotiated on this trip, that I honestly don't even think about it anymore. As I set off I just find a route on one of my mapping apps, and then just ride in.

The busier city centre of Tashkent was actually fine to cycle into also - by Central Asian standards at least - ie. dodgy driving manoeuvres are a given, and you just need to expect that people are sometimes gonna do crazy shit. And actually, right on cue, a young driver nearly wiped me out this afternoon, cutting across me and turning, whilst going through a red light.

I yelled out "fuck!!!" before I knew what I was saying.

He'd accelerated in front of me before he knew what he was doing.

In most countries the driving instinct when something ahead looks dodgy is to brake, and then check out the scene more slowly.

In Central Asia the fallback position is to immediately accelerate through the potential blockage, before you even give yourself (or anyone else) time to assess how dangerous your speeding up may be.

Low hills followed me during the day, but I didn't need to climb any.

As usual, I was never short of food. A little mini van zipped past me in the morning, and pulled over. The whole family got out, and waved me over. The grandpa handed me this big bag of cold grapes, and everyone couldn't stop wishing me luck for my journey. So amazing!

Cold grapes go down pretty well while you're cycling on a hot day, I can tell you.

Could be any of us, but today it was a bird.

Gorgeous power station stacks

This is the straight line the drunk drivers have to walk along when they get pulled over by the drunk cops.

Another gorgeous mosque

I really love the town names

First glimpse of the capital

Beautiful Russian Orthodox Church

And another beautiful mosque, just near my hostel.

At first I thought this woman had had trouble with her nose piercing, but then realised it was just tape on the billboard.

I found a nice hostel that some cyclists had recommended, it was a bit of a way from the centre of town, but in a pretty good location for food and groceries.

I needed to renew/replace my Beeline SIM, and a local woman at the hostel, a friend of one of the owners, was taking a bus to a shopping area that had a Beeline store, so I caught the bus with her and her son. She paid for my bus fare of course.

Local street scenes

Don't ask me where this castle came from

E-buses

I had amazing potato somsas for dinner. They were actually the most delicious ones I've tried anywhere.

It was definitely time to ditch my cycling shirt. It was disgusting. Believe it or not, but I'd washed it in the morning. It didn't wanna die, it put its hand on its heart and pleaded with me to spare it, but I wasn't having a bar of it. I enjoy being a hardarse sometimes. Plus I couldn't bear the embarrassment it was causing me. Not for a moment longer.

I met Jakob and Lena at the hostel on the first night, they're also cyclists, and have travelled all the way from Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia, more often on buses and trains than riding, as they have fold up bikes. They carry very little, and have just cycled some really hardcore routes in Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan, on their wide-tyred bikes, on roads that my bike (and amount of luggage) couldn't handle - particularly given its current relatively thin road tyres.

It would definitely challenge my body too, as some of the roads and passes are higher altitude than anywhere I've ridden so far.

Jakob and Lena are a really sweet couple from Graz in Austria, we hung out and chatted about cycling and travel, as usual, and found an Indian restaurant to get lunch the next day, as they're vegetarians too.

You see a lot of cars like this around.

Old steam trains. They're actually massive, much larger than your average locomotives, because the tracks are wider here, just like in Russia.

The full moon from my hostel balcony

Man About Town

Tashkent is great for food! I've just been munching out on the most delicious vegetarian Chinese noodle dish. You have no idea how great it is to find such things, after a month of being back amongst the standard heavily meated offerings of Central Asia.

Tashkent has the trippiest metro ever, which was built by the Russians in the 70s. The stations are all masterpieces, with hugely interesting art deco Soviet era walls, sculptures and decorations.

Security is tight, because there's been terrorist attacks by Islamic State and various other political groups in the capital, and you can't take any pics underground.

So here's a few pics from the web of some stations.

One day I went by metro to Chorsu Bazaar, the main market in Tashkent.

It was pretty extensive, with some great old architecture

Babuschka with her dolls

Non sellers. Well, they are actually sellers, but they're selling non, the Uzbeki word for naan, or bread.

See the glass of drink on the right of the ledge? I've been drinking this stuff all over the place. As with kvas, women sell it from little tanks on wheels, which get towed away at the end of the day. It's delicious, cold, and tastes a little like creaming soda, a drink I used to drink as a kid. It's made from a mixture of apple and caramel, but isn't too sweet.

Wish I went to this uni instead of my normal ones.

Beautiful random art

Islamic architecture is very domey

The old circus building

Flaking infrastructure

New Tashkent

Shakrizhoda, a young woman who was filling in as a receptionist at the hostel, and who was very keen to practice her English, told me I must go to a shopping mall called City Mall, as they have luxury car showrooms in there. She happens to work in a new car showroom as a salesperson in her real job.

Well, how was she to know that visiting luxury car showrooms was not really my usual thing, but hey, why not, it was on my way home.

City Mall was the ritziest shopping centre I've seen in a long time.

Shakrizhoda told me her story. Her dad's just been put in prison, of all things. She didn't tell me what for, and, despite the fact that she looks rather wealthy, she told me how much her family is struggling. She's the oldest, and the family is now living on her single income. Quite a pressure for a 21 year old.

And what she really wants to do is travel the world, and is absolutely busting to get away and do it right now. But her mum won't let her do anything, she said.

She pines for the freedoms that girls take for granted in some other countries. Before I knew her story I'd already told her that all of my daughters have independently travelled, from a relatively young age.

I told her to be patient, and to make it happen when the time is right. Take the freedoms you need. Her dad's been sentenced to five years, but they've appealed, by writing a letter to the court. The decision is pending.

The life some people are forced to lead ....

Old Tashkent, around my area.

Bye Bye Bewdy

So, after another month of riding all the way from Bishkek, via Osh, I decided to leave my bike in Tashkent and visit a few places by train. Uzbekistan has a really good rail network, it's midsummer and bloody hot, and I was keen to leave all my camping gear behind and travel light for a bit. I'll return to Tashkent pretty soon.

I was super keen to visit Samarkand, one of the most iconic Silk Road cities of all.

So I took the slow train there, it's only about three hours away, and the ticket was cheap.

I didn't get a window seat, so no pics of the view, sorry. It was pretty built up for quite a way after we left the capital, and mainly farmland after that, with the landscape becoming pretty dry and barren as we approached Samarkand.

I was sitting with a lovely Russian couple, Nikita and Franzi, and their ten year old son. Nikita is one of the hordes of Russians I've met who've escaped conscription by moving overseas. He lives in Tashkent, but his wife and child still live in Moscow, Franzi said this is the 7th time she's been to visit him in Tashkent in 2 years.

The Russian invasion of Ukraine is super hard for so many families, on so many levels. A lot of Russians have told me how fucked up it is for everyone, and not just for those whose sons are getting blown to pieces every day. Or for those soldiers who now have permanent disabilities or ailments, both physical and psychological. And their families and friends.

Scientific and business cooperation with the rest of the world has virtually dried up, economic sanctions have bitten hard, putting many professionals out of a job. Quite a few Russians have told me they feel quite embarassed to admit their nationality, because they think everyone hates them. Of course we don't, I reassured them, we just hate the Russian government's military actions in many spheres around the world, including Chechnya, Georgia, Syria, Ukraine, and in many countries in Africa.

I arrived at the Samarkand Railway station around lunchtime.

There was a nice market nearby

And a tramline!

I strolled through some newer parts of town before finally making it to the rundown and quirky old part of town.

Ritzy hotels

With more going up

And finally the humble bricks of the old districts

Neighbourhood mosque

There's loads of cars like these around here too

Eventually I made it to my little hotel, it was the best ever.

Mehroj, my host, greeted me with this selection of goodies. He basically did the same every time I returned to the hotel after being out.

The spacious outdoor dining area. Such a chilled vibe.

Maybe not so chilled for this guy, glued on the wall.

My bedroom. So cute

I freshened up, and went a-strollin.'

My street, a pretty run-of-the-mill one in the old town.

Cut 'Em Off Karimov

A statue to Islom Karimov, the first president of the newly independent Uzbekistan, which was formed when the country finally broke free of Moscow's grip as a result of the glasnost policies of Mikhael Gorbachev in 1991.

Well actually, Karimov was already Moscow's man anyway, he was the First Secretary of the Uzbek Communist Party, basically the head of government, for a few years before independence, and tried to remain part of the Soviet Union, but when he saw the writing on the wall and realised that independence was inevitable, he decided to flip so he could remain leader.

Karimov ruled what is widely regarded as one of the the world's most brutal and repressive authoritarian regimes, until his death in 2016. His rule was characterised by rigged elections, the assassination of political opponents, and the complete prohibition of any dissent. The regime had a blatant disregard for human rights, and engaged in acts such as widespread torture, kidnapping, murder, rape by the police, financial corruption, religious persecution, and complete censorship.

Basically the kind of government that currently exists in Russia, and in a couple of handfuls of other countries.

One of the worst recorded incidents by Karimov's regime, which was documented by Human Rights Watch, was the murder of two Muslim political opponents, whom Karimov had killed by immersing them in boiling water.

Now that'll teach ya.

These type of acts, however, weren't bad enough for Western governments to sanction Karimov in any way. To the contrary, they courted and supported him regularly, as he'd agreed to allow the US to fly from an airbase in Uzbekistan for bombing raids in their "War on Terror," (which should probably be more appropriately named as the "War of Terror)."

Unfortunately things haven't changed much in Uzbekistan since Karimov died. His deputy is still the current president. Elections are still rigged. The press is still gagged, and basically owned by the government. Organised political opposition doesn't exist in any form. No one dares to dissent.

And still life goes on, as if none of that is happening.

Cultural Wonderland

Samarkand is the third largest city in Uzbekistan, and definitely its most iconic. Benefiting from its perfect location on the Silk Road between Europe, Persia and China, the city was at times one of the largest cities in Central Asia, and was an important part of various Persian Empires.

The city was conquered by the Macedonian Alexander the Great in 329 BC, and was later ruled by various Turkic and Iranian rulers, until it was overrun by those galloping Monghols under Chinggis (Genghis) Khan in 1220. Chinggis and his ruthless riders got around, didn't they.

But Samarkand is most famous because it became the centre of what is known as the Timurid Renaissance, when the ruler Timur made it the capital of his Empire in 1370, and the city became the cultural and economic hub of Central Asia.

It was all in the family, as usual, and Timur's famous grandson Ulugbek ruled until 1449, and developed Samarkand further, turning it into one of the most important centres of learning in the Islamic world. The scientists and philosophers there made huge advances in many fields, including astronomy, and had many contacts and exchanges with their Western and Chinese counterparts.

Hundreds of magnificent medressas and mosques were built during this period. These incredible buildings just take your breath away. And it's these architectural masterpieces that tourists, both local and foreign, come here to see.

The centre of this incredibly beautifully crafted architectural wonderland is a place called the Registan, a collection of three magnificent medressas, facing each other across a grand and spacious square.

My first glimpse of the edge of Registan Square. It took my breath away, but luckily I was able to grab it back.

All you lesbians out there, don't celebrate, they're not marrying each other, it was a double wedding, and their grooms were off to the side.

Homeosexual acts by men are illegal in Uzbekistan, and punishable by jail of up to 3 years. But no laws are written about women, so it's technically legal. However the LGBTQ etc community are constantly harassed, and sometimes physically assaulted by random members or groups in the community, and they never go to the cops about it either, because they'll get extra beatings from them.

Such a caring and progressive society.

There's a big international music festival coming up in Samarkand, the Sharq Taronalari, and parts of the square are closed off while they build the stages etc.

But luckily the medressas are still open during the middle of the day.

One of the 3 magnificent medressas, from outside the barriers.

This type of fabric design is very common here, and I've seen it all over Central Asia and even in northwestern China and Laos.

Magnificent Registan buildings from the outside.

I wandered through some beautiful parks, and eventually settled in to a nice café, where I met 2 young Russian astrophysicists, Yael and Artemyi, who've just arrived from a trek in Tajikistan. We had an amazing connection, and chatted for hours.

They also told me how embarassed they were to say they were Russian, thinking I'd hate them because of the Ukraine War. But of course I don't hate them, I love them, and they, of course, hate the war as much as everyone else.

On the way back to the old town, where those guys were staying as well, we walked past Timur's mausoleum, Gur-i Amir, which is stunningly lit up at night.

The Registan on the way home.

Mehroj delivered this to my room when I arrived back late. What a guy.

The most dangerous shelving in history. I nearly gouged out part of my head a few times while I stayed here, when spitting out my toothpaste.

Registan By Day

After the biggest and most varied and delicious breakfast ever, generously provided by my host, I went off to visit the Registan.

The architecture is incredibly magnificent up close, but I won't bore you by telling you exactly what everything is.

Just feast your eyes.

Some of the huge number of buildings currently house stunning and ancient museum items, and explanations of how the medressas, (basically universities), operated.

They used debating techniques to hone their arguments, like pretty much all cultures did.

Magnificent jewellery and headpieces.

Magic lamps and jugs whose wishes have already been used up, and so their genies have retired.

Local crafts

Of course, the city was ransacked at various times, which tends to happen during wars. Some buildings have had to be reconstructed, others just renovated.

Street scenes in the 1930s.

Bibi-Khanym Mosque

After that incredible sensory wonderland I headed down the street for more of the same.

Kitschy tourist fare.

In the 15th Century, the Bibi Khanym Mosque was one of the largest and most magnificent mosques in the Islamic world. It's a considered a masterpiece of the Timud Renaissance.

It's a masterpiece of any Renaissance.

Rather large Koran.

Timur decided to undertake the construction of the giant mosque after he returned from his successful foray into India, where his forces conquered the Delhi Sultanate.

But his appetite for grandeur was considerably more veracious than the available building technology of the day, and the mosque was racked with problems, and required constant upkeep and revision.

By the late 1600s a later Khan cancelled all restoration works there, and the mosque fell victim to erosion, and to earthquakes. Many of the building materials were then plundered by locals.

By the mid 1900s the mosque was only really a massive pile of ruins, but major parts of it were restored in the 1970s, during the Soviet period, a process which was continued after Uzbek independence.

These days all of these masterpieces of Islamic architecture have been returned to their magnificent former glory, but in a way true to most of the original designs.

Well, that's what they say anyway.

Shah-i Zinda Mausoleum

I then strolled over to another stunning mosque,  Hazrat Kizr, which was much smaller, and much more quirky.

Looking back towards Bibi Khanym and the Registan

Incredible roofing. Reminds me of Tibetan and Chinese Buddhist styles.

The ex president, Islom Karimov, that really nice sweet guy, is buried here.

Even the lift is classy

The Shah-i Zinda Mausoleum, up the road a bit, is really next level. It's not just one mausoleum, but many, each holding the remains of all the rulers of the kingdoms that were based here.

It's basically like a Hollywood Walk of Fame, one long laneway jam packed with incredible buildings, each with stones representing the burial places of all the great leaders.

Main entrance

The strip. Each of these buildings is a personal mausoleum for some of Uzbekistan's great leaders.

Most of the mausoleums are incredibly ornate and complex, and others are simpler, but still have incredibly beautiful designs.

There's a simple little mosque in there too

And then you go outside, back into a completely different world - the streets of the old town.

That night I met a bunch of lovely Russians, and we jammed for hours. Fermon, one of the guest house owners, actually went out and bought a nice Yamaha acoustic guitar just for the occasion, it cost him about USD250. Not cheap.

We chatted and partied and jammed all sorts of songs, from Bob Marley and Chilli Peppers classics to Russian folk and rock. It was super fun. They plied me with beer, food and vodka the whole time, and I was fully charged by the time I hit my hard bed in the wee hours, which, after all the booze, turned out to be the wee hours.

The next day I wandered about town, as usual.

Buildings in my hood

Never made it here at night

Soviet style

Um, well, I think I've done that enough times

Even though you've got a, um, lovely wedding dress

Global hairdresser logo rears its hip again

Uzbek Soviet-style art

King Timur watching the world go by, in a roundabout sorta way. He's actually in the middle of one.

Random gorgeousness

Gur-i Amir, Timur's mausoleum, in the dusk light

Ritzy restaurant

Rehearsals for the opening ceremony of the music festival. I got to see the whole thing, although not everyone had costumes. The music and dance was magnificent.

Further West

It's a few days till the music festival starts, so I've decided to head west, to Bukhara, another magnificent ancient city, that I've heard is every bit as beautiful as Samarkand, but not as glitzy.

I plan to come back to Samarkand around the festival time, but it's unclear as to whether or not any tickets are available to the public. Not even the main tourist office knew what was going on for tickets.

In the meantime I'm heading further into the deserts of Uzbekistan, to another ancient capital, the city of Bukhara. It's another iconic Silk Road city.

But who really knows what's actually there.

Not I ❤️

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