After sharing my accomplishment of having entered Uzbekistan, the immediate response from several of my family members where: "Let's hope you can get out again!" But I was not going to worry about that just yet. I wanted to enjoy the treasure chest that is Uzbekistan. Located on the Silk Road, the Uzbek cities are brimming with ancient mosques, mausoleums and madrasas of amber and blue. Unfortunately in Tashkent, the capital of Uzbekistan, many of these were destroyed during an earthquake in the sixties so I wanted to venture further into the country.
Walking the streets of Tashkent
Statue of the Uzbek hero Amir Timur (center) and the (for some reason) famous Hotel Uzbekistan (left)
I spent my first night in Uzbekistan at a hostel in Tashkent, where I met a guy from northern Kazakhstan. We teamed up and spent half a day hitchhiking to the city of Samarkand. Our first lift was a middle-aged man and his business partner heading towards some of their cotton fields. Our driver was a charismatic man with one hand on the wheel while holding a cigarette in the other. More importantly, he was a generous man. On the way, we stopped at one of the many melon stands along the road (that sometimes literally went on for more than a kilometer) where we got a lot of free taste samples and our driver bought us an entire melon as a gift as well as some deliciously dark red pomegranates. Our second and final lift was a young couple that had studied languages and now work as tour guides. They stopped next to one of the many cotton fields on the way and let us examine the plants. Upon hitting the busy roads of Samarkand, the couple were kind enough to drop us off all the way at our hostel.
Melon-tasting while hitchhiking from Tashkent to Samarkamd
Endless cotton fields
The ancient city of Samarkand, another entry on UNESCO's World Heritage List, is filled with old mosques and mausoleums decorated with intricate mosaics in all shades of blue. I spent the greater part of a cold but sunny day walking from one place to the next. Most places were open to enter for a small fee like the Shah-i-Zinda necropolis consisting of the most beautiful tomb monuments. Another place, the Afrasiyab Settlement, had limited access. Here, being a foreigner was an advantage as we were allowed to go in after a very short wait and without paying. Inside, signs stating no photography hung on the ancient walls and we were steered around the area by guards.
Gur-e-Amir complex
Registan
Registan
Registan is a popular spot for wedding photos. I don't know how many brides passed through in just ten minutes
Bibi-Khanym Mosque
Shah-i-Zinda
Shah-i-Zinda
Shah-i-Zinda
Shah-i-Zinda
Afrasiyab Settlement (the only photo I was able to take before the no photography signs began to appear)
That evening, I headed back to Tashkent in a marshrutka (a shared long-distance taxi) hoping we weren't going to crash as our driver raced over the dark, bumpy highway. Back in the capital, I met up with the girl from Hong Kong that I had met for the first time in Almaty a few weeks earlier. We walked around (and got lost in) the giant Chorsu Bazar tasting sweet treats and looking at colorful pottery, visited the Khast Imam Mosque and rode the city's metro. Yes, that last one is a Tashkent attraction. Not only is it the oldest metro in Central Asia but it is also incredibly beautiful with every stop decorated with gorgeous mosaics and intricate stone work. Furthermore, it is very clean (I know, shocking for a metro) and very safe with guards at every entrance checking bags. However, as a foreigner you are directly passed through.
Kosmonavtlar (Космонавтор) station
Kosmonavtlar (Космонавтор) station
Paxtakor (Пахтакор) station
Since Uzbekistan opened up its borders less than a year ago, the country works hard on making it easy and enjoyable for foreigners to visit. Still, border crossing is always a bit of a questionmark. My next stop after Tashkent was Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan and to get there, I got on a 13 hour bus that would take me through Kazakhstan on the way. At the Uzbek-Kazakh border with my registration slips from every hostel I had stayed at in hand, I marched up to the passport control desk and handed the Uzbek guard my papers. It always takes a while for them to figure out my passport. European sure, but which country? When I had bought my bus ticket, the salesperson initially could not even find Denmark in her system and honestly, I do not know if she ever did. But the guard eventually figured it out:
"Dania?"
"Da!" I replied.
Then he handed me back my passport having barely looked at my hard-earned registration slips but so what! I had managed to get out again!
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