January 19, 2023
Once On This Island on Broadway: There is an Island…And It’s Pure Magicby Randi / November 30, 2017
The ancient city of Bukhara, thought to be founded in the 6th century B.C., is like a small outdoor museum of its history. Important as a stop on the Silk Road and as a trading and cultural center before that biz ever started (so old), Bukhara’s city center is listed as a UNESCO world heritage site. The whole city center. I think you can guess by that fact that Bukhara is not exactly the most modern place to visit. So in the previous post, about Tashkent, I mentioned how our next stop of Bukhara was like stepping back in time like whoa, and I realized afterward that I was thinking about Khiva, one of our subsequent and much more impressive stops, when I said that. Still, Bukhara is hella ancient too, and I don’t think the center has changed in a long time, except for the tiny shops getting new kinds of soda and stuff. Full of mosques and madrassahs, dust and ashes, Bukhara seems to have preserved history. remarkably well. But with that comes, well, a bit of a hard time for tourists. Despite recognizing how important this place and its history were, we were kind of over it really fast.
But first we have to get there. Our train from Tashkent, our first Uzbek train, seemed promising – another overnight train where we had a cabin to ourselves, no strangers sleeping and snoring above us – except for its super early arrival time of about 6am. As long as we got some sleep we’d be fine, and without strangers in the cabin we’d surely get some sleep, right. Wrong, so so wrong. The couple in the cabin next to us were the loudest, rudest people of all time OF ALL TIME. The Uzbek trains were a little Miss Havisham looking in their old-fashioned decor, but they went all in on one piece of modernity – televisions in every cabin! Cool! We didn’t watch anything since we wanted to sleep, but the people next to us REALLY did. They put theirs on and found the most annoying Uzbek MTV sounding channel, and turned the volume up all the way, as high as it went. I knocked after a bit and asked if they could turn it down. They said okay. LIARRRRRRRS! They kept it as loud as possible, but they added to it their RAUCOUS loud insanely obnoxious laughter, which the thin walls did nothing to keep out. It was enough to (almost) put me off TV entirely, and you know how much I love TV. I mean there’s no way in hell that anything on Uzbek television was remotely as funny as they found it so like they were surely overacting to make us mad. They are helldaemons that I hope are back there. I tried to find a conductor or any kind of attendant to complain to but none were to be found. I knocked again at like 3am to ask if they could finally for the love of god just shut up but they didn’t open their door and instead just laughed harder and harder. It was incredibly rude. We started screaming through the walls out of pure despair, which they thought was hilarious. Those fuckers I hope karma gets them.
hard to see in the dark but this is where we spent 7 hours screaming at neighbors
When we finally landed, I put a pox on the houses of the neighbors and we went to find, egads, another taxi to take us to the guest house. By this point in our travels, we’d had maybe one good experience with a taxi. Not even good, but neutral. The rest were enough to provoke such rage that I probably could have picked up and thrown a taxi. This ride would be no different, and in fact with top the charts of forking shirtballs. The driver said he knew our guest house well, the Hotel Jeyran, and he kept saying “Jeyran Jeyran da Jeyran” so we were like okay at least he knows where he’s going. OF COURSE HE DIDN’T KNOW WHERE HE WAS GOING. We had to direct him like we did the others. FFS he didn’t even know when we would name huge landmarks to head towards. When we finally got to Jeyran, he had the nerve to ask for more money than we agreed to, despite his not being able to find the place on his own and lying about it. We told him to go fork himself.
Despite being called a hotel, the guest house we were staying in was more like someone’s house, with an extra room or two upstairs. It was fine, the couple running things/living there was nice, but alas, we arrived at 7am and check in wasn’t until noon. We sat in the front room for a while, while the guy watched his stories on his TV, as we just tried to decompress from the horrible night and horrible cab ride. Luckily, a tiny little baby cat lived there, and despite being allergic, I played with him because omg, tiny little baby cat. He was sooo cute and he just wanted to sleep on us.
After about an hour of just sitting, we decided to go explore and try to find a cafe with wifi. The man in charge pointed us in one direction, and when we found what he meant, it was an enormous restaurant, and it wasn’t opened yet. We continued walking around the newer town, where we were staying, and found nothing, literally nothing, not even a shop, so we went into the old town, the tourist area with all the mosques and dust and stuff. What we found was not cafes or wifi (what were we THINKING, expecting that here) but, naturally, more construction! And the kind of sweeping, all-encompassing works that put the construction we encountered previously in the ‘stans to shame. SHAAAME. We had to walk around rubble, delicately choosing our routes so as not to fall from like 10 feet into more rubble. It was not so good. All the places that looked even a tad like they might not be mosques or madrassahs were closed. Forget wifi, we’d given up on wifi; we just wanted somewhere to sit maybe that had something to drink or eat. We weren’t picky. Just something that wasn’t a pile of dust and rock. On one particularly construction-y section of the old town, we saw a tea house located up a set of stone stairs, and a little girl out on the path in front. We yelled up to her asking if they were open, and she ran inside. Cool, we thought. Luckily she had gone to get an adult (smart kid!) who came out and told us to come in come in please come in! We asked, are you open? And she said yes yes come in. They were not even a little bit open, we realized when we went in, but she was willing to make us tea (it was a tea house) and give us the little sweets that come with it, so it was really nice. Literally the nicest person we would meet in all of Uzbekistan. I had ginger tea to try to settle my stomach, which always hurts if I don’t sleep, and they brought us little dishes of nuts, halva-like treats, nutty other treats, and a pile of pure sugar rock candy. What a breakfast. It was really nice inside this place, and is probably wonderful after a day of sightseeing.
After our tea stint, we got a feel for the town as we meandered back towards the guesthouse. It was weird. Everywhere we turned, it kind of looked like Mars, or x other unknown, dusty dry sunny planet. As the place started to wake up, there were hordes of old ladies working like a prison chain gang all over town. It was really disturbing and I really hope they weren’t actually prisoners but it really looked like it. These old lady gangs were everywhere, hoeing little patches of garden and what not. I wanted to ask them if they were okay but a) I didn’t know how and b) they looked like they would happily cut a bitch.
The weirdest thing we’d noticed throughout the stans was continued in strong form in Bukhara – the constant ground watering. Every day for the past month, we’d see people watering the ground – not soil, just the street and cement and brick paths – with hoses or watering cans. Not something you see in England every day. I assume it’s to prevent too much dust buildup or it has to do with the heat, both good reasons, but it’s still quite odd to see someone watering asphalt when you were taught that shit only grows when you water soft ground. Anyway.
After we finally checked in and showered, I want to say we napped, but I don’t remember (probably because I was sleeping whaaat) and it doesn’t really matter what we did on which day (we were there for several, and too many) so let’s just get to the sights. We started (or not! who cares!) with the Ark of Bukhara, or the Bukhara Fortress, mostly because it’s the most important site to actually go into, but also because it was closest to the guest house by being situated kind of halfway to the old town center and not in it like everything else was. Side note, probably best to stay in the actual old town so you don’t have to walk the creepy streets at night. And so you’re near stuff. We were not near stuff.
ninj ninj who dat ninj, who dat who dat who dat ninj
The Ark dates back to the 5th century AD. How this city survived for so long without one I’ll never understand! It was a military structure at times, and a whole town with royal courts inside at others. According to a legend, the ark’s creator was the hero Siyavusha, who fell in love with a girl and the girl’s father was like, “I’ll let you marry her if you build a palace on this piece of land that is bounded by bullskin.” He meant that as a way to stymie the boy since it sounds impossible but the boy was like, how bout I just cut the bullskin (and we cut the bullshit HEYOOO) into thin strips and connect them instead of doing what I hope you’re not implying, which is to build a palace inside a regular-shaped skin of bull. I don’t know it all sounds ridonk. Needless to say, the Ark as it stands is hella big and I don’t doubt that every aspect of a functioning medieval town could fit inside the walls for a bit. Honestly I can see everything in modern day Bukhara fitting inside this fortress were it not full of museums right now.
improvement works going on even inside our places of interest
Inside the Ark, we ran into our first tourists in a long time – lots of French oldies 98s. French people were all over Uzbekistan, we’d find later. These guys were kind of annoying. I don’t remember why, but I’m looking at my phone notes, and I wrote “annoying French people”, so, let’s leave it at that. On site, there was a toilet, as you would hope to find in museums and the like, but this total random man charged 1000 som to use it! He didn’t seem to legitimately work there at all, and when I left the toilet, he was nowhere to be found, so like I think it was a scam. But that is I think like a few cents so it wasn’t a big deal it was the principle of the thing. Everywhere in Bukhara, we quickly learned, there would be random people outside the big sites asking for an entrance fee that wasn’t posted anywhere. It never seemed any more legit than it did at the Ark toilet. As soon as we approached a door of a mosque or something, someone would run up to us from nowhere and demand 6000 som or something and we’d be like, hey who are you.
Can you tell how blindingly sunny it was here? I was so burnt I hated it
rubble literally everywhere we turned even on the Ark
The square around the Ark is called the Registan. It’s where the public floggings would occur! The big story around Bukhara is that of two British officers named Stoddart and Connelly who were beheaded in the Registan in the 1850s. Colonel Stoddart was sent to Bukhara in 1939 to make nice with the legendarily cruel emir, Nasrullah. Instead of becoming friends with him, Nasrullah imprisoned the Englishman instead. Didn’t see that coming! No everyone did. Stoddart was in solitary confinement for three years, until another Englishman joined him! Fun! Not fun. Captain Connolly was sent to get Stoddart released. Great plan guys! Instead the emir tossed Connolly into the ‘bug pit’ with Stoddart and then publicly executed them to publicly shame England. What a guy and what a place.
After we saw everything in the Ark, we made our way fully into the old town, to see all the mosques and stuff because Mohammed knows we haven’t seen enough mosques lately. The most important, I want to say so I’m saying it, is the Kalan Mosque, from 1500s. It can hold 12,000 PEOPLE. That is a lot. Not even a drop in the bucket compared to the Penn State football stadium, but still, a lot for a mosque built so long ago. Unfortunately, we were not two of those 12,000 because when we went to enter, a rando sauntered up and said the entrance fee was 6 (SIX) times what it said in our guidebook and on the internet, clearly a scammy sammy, so we skipped it. Fortunately, this was one where the outside was impressive so we weren’t upset. We went in so many mosques lately and the rest of our time in Uzbekistan would be mainly seeing more mosques so no tears. The mosque sits across the main square from the Mir-i Arab Madrassah, so it makes for a really impressive, historically important square, though hard to remember which witch is which. At the risk of being even more disrespectful to the Uzbek people, I’m going to admit that I’m not hundo p about these pictures actually being what I’m saying they are, but I’ma do my best.
I want to say this is the madrassah
The whole mosque complex in the town center was like one enormous building, all seemingly connected and hard to distinguish. There are sooo many important buildings to see that after a while it’s like okay, didn’t I already see you, enormous sandy white building with some pretty blue tiles?
One I was excited about was the Kalyan Minaret, or the Grand Minaret, or the Tower of Death. No I didn’t know that last name when I was excited about visiting it; I just wanted to climb a tower. We like climbing things. The Tower of Death apparently got its name because criminals would be executed by being thrown from the top. So economical? Minarets’ usual function is for the muezzin to climb up in order to call err’one to prayer, so it had to big a bit taller than the mosque everyone’s going to. But the Kalyan Minaret passed the mosque and then was like you know what, I’m gonna keep on trucking, and it kept going up and up so now it’s the second tallest in all of Central Asia. We read quite a few things about how the architects of this or that monument were killed (never be an architect) because the rulers who commissioned the buildings didn’t want the architect to ever make anything more impressive. People cray. Anyway I have a vague memory of the minaret’s architect being thrown off because the wife of something important got him in trouble.
I want to say this is the mosque
The Kaylan is so impressive that it’s said that during all his conquering, Genghis Khan (my ole pal Chingis!) left it standing instead of destroying it!
Once it got to be an actually human hour of the day, the city center got a little crowded! Other people here, who would have thought. Oh we learned another story about the minaret! A young woman was to be executed after she married a local businessman. Unclear if the reason for her execution was related to the marriage. Anyway her last request was that she be allowed to wear the dress her husband bought her for her wedding day. So the official went to her house to get the dress but he a man he didn’t know what dress so he brought all forty dresses she owned. The woman put all forty dresses on instead of choosing the one, and they cushioned her fall and she lived! What an amazing place to get to keep living in. Because of that, now it’s a Bukharan tradition that all men give their brides 40 new dresses as a wedding present. And that’s why I have so many dresses!
We made our way to the base of the minaret to climb it but alas, the door was padlocked shut. On to the next!
other people! eureka!
Next we visited the Chor Minor, which is to the east of the city center so not one of the most visited sites. Built in 1807, the small lil guy was the entrance to a madrassah. A proverb says that if someone can climb up the stairs of the Chor and then back down without getting bitten by snakes, he is considered sinless. Really there aren’t snakes around (I mean I didn’t see any…) so I guess we’re all sinless? The Chor Minor has four blue turret domes that are pretty cool.
My favorite part of Bukhara by far is Labi Hauz, which is roughly pronounced ‘lobby house’ which is what we called it. And we called all the males around it lobby boys. Back in the day, Bukhara was covered with little pools and ponds used for laundry and washing horses and drinking water and all kinds of stuff so obviously they were full of disease like whoa and the Bolsheviks finally were like ‘shut this all down SHUT IT DOWN’ and drained the pools because hella disease except for the Lobby House, because so pretty, and it’s been maintained ever since, the only one still full of water and no disease.
GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY LOBBY BOY
You can see why it was my favorite. It was like an oasis in the middle of all the dust. I love water and this pool looked so gorgeous surrounded by the old buildings and camel statues. Of course there was construction happening at one end though. There was a cafe or two along one side that would have been perfect for sitting and relaxing if you needed it. I would have loved more like that around the pool instead of most of it being tout shops.
My second favorite place in Bukhara was the old synagogue! It’s a tiny little place, not only smaller than all the synagogues I’ve seen in my life but smaller than all my past studio apartments too. But apparently one of the Torahs it holds is 1000 years old! Mostly it’s nice just to know that there are still jews trying to maintain a presence here and because there are so few they are sooo happy to have guests. Naturally being old religious men, the guys there were more excited for my husband’s arrival than mine because men > women in 99% of the world, even though he’s not jewish, but alas, it was still very nice. It’s free to visit but they ask for donations and you should donate. The best part was the picture they had framed on the wall of their most important visitor before us – Hillary Clinton. Oh man I actually started to cry right there, thinking about a) how I was standing in spot where Hillary and like NOBODY else in the world had stood, this tiny little hole in the wall synagogue in a tiny old town in Uzbekistan I mean come on we’re basically bff Hillz, and b) I was just so sad that she wasn’t president.
After we simintoved and mazel toved it up, we explored the city center more. Just a few meters from the main mosque, where we were just hours before, a wifi cafe had sprung up out of absolutely nowhere. We spent sooo long looking for you all our first morning, damn cafe! And now you’re just advertising your wifiness all over town! It just appeared out of nowhere like Brigadoon! Also appearing out of nowhere in that main area was a Kapitalbank ATM that spits out US dollars!! Amazing!! And, next to the ATM was a gorgeous little courtyard with 1000 som toilets in the back that actually were worth it, not squats but big and clean! It was a lovely little surprise block of happiness.
to be fair, this makes it sound like there’s NO wifi. free from wifi.
my favorite sign!
We haven’t even scratched the surface of historical sights in Bukhara but I’m getting tired. Here are some more beautiful buildings that are important to go look at.
madrassah?
M. C. Escher mausoleum?
Doesn’t it look like Tatooine??!! It really did!
So many cool things right? Just for some reason it didn’t really add up so that the sum of the parts were greater than the whole, know what I’m saying? Lots of interesting buildings to look at, but like, that’s it. There was a lack of life to the place to it fun to be there and not just interesting to look at.
There was a lack of gas too! Like, the entire town, old and ‘new’ parts, had a gas outage while we were there so the restaurants could only grill food for us! And there was little hot water because of it. Such a weird sad thing to add on top of all the other weirdness. Luckily some of the places could make me salads, which I always liked. And Bukhara seemed to have beans on hand, which is nice. I can recommend finding salads at Minzifa – which was playing the X-FILES THEME SONG when we were there, and Saroy, both right along the Lobby House. Most of the other central restaurants will happily offer you grilled eggplant and red peppers, which you KNOW I LOVE. eye roll. I also got a heap of white rice with a happy face, see below.
vegables!
BEANS
So Bukhara had some great sights and I was super happy to have beans and salads but mostly it was kind of boring. The people we met in the restaurants and sites were kind of mean and put us off the place. The people are really what make places special when you travel so to be surrounded by mean people as the majority for the first time really ever was disconcerting enough to tarnish our Uzbek travels somewhat. Still, I’m glad we got to go to this historically important place and I’m glad I don’t have to go back.
Related Posts
Ireland’s Beautiful Countryside: County Cork (and Ballymaloe)
You know why Ireland is so green? Because it is ALWAYS RAINING. That’s what we learned anyway on our trip through the Irish countryside, on our journey from Cork to Dublin. We spent most of this time exploring County Cork after flying into and enjoying the city of Cork, because the region is home to two of the very special places we had to see: Blarney Castle and Ballymaloe. Also, as Husbo says to everyone going to Ireland, you don’t go for the cities; you go for the countryside, the gorgeous, green-as-heck, rainy-to-make-it-all-so-green countryside. And if I can so enjoy myself when it’s so cold and rainy and my shoulders shoot up so high that I get bodybuilder neck (i.e. no neck) then it must be a special place.
After leaving the city limits, Ireland was almost hilarious in how green it was. I felt like I was on set in a young adult novel from the 1800s. All dem rolling hills! There are tonnes of castles and forts of note to see in the vicinity, but there’s one at the top of every list: Blarney Castle. Drawing tourists by the busfull, Blarney Castle dates back to about 1200AD. It was destroyed and rebuilt in the 15th century but it still counts to say it’s from the 1200s. Over all this time, the castle was besieged and captured and attacked and regained and bewitched and bothered and bewildered and everything that castles should expect to experience, over and over, so now it’s mostly a ruin. But some parts of it are still accessible to tourists, including the thing everyone is coming to see – the Blarney Stone.
This is not the Blarney Stone this is a sign with spelling that I enjoyed
The Blarney Stone, I’ve since learned, is part of a machicolation, which means it’s a floor opening in battlements through which shit like boiling oil (yikes) or stones could be dropped down on attackers. But that’s a much darker context than we’ve all accepted. The acceptable history of the Stone is that this limestone block above the floor opening of a particularly high battlement will give those who kiss it the gift of eloquence. And that’s why strangers for centuries have shared germs on an old piece of rock. The real legend says that the 15th century rebuilder of the castle, Cormac McCarthy (fork I thought he looked old for the earth but I guess he’s aging remarkably well), was involved in a lawsuit and sought assistance from the goddess Cliodhna. (Pretty.) The goddess told the beloved author to kiss the first stone he saw on his way to court, and lo and behold he was supes eloquent and he won his case, and the Pulitzer Prize. The Stone was then built into the castle walls.
Another story has to do with Robert the Bruce, apparently gifting the stone to Cormac for his help in a battle that occurred like way before the latter was born at a time when neither of them would have been alive so we’re going to table that one for now.
Obviously all the stories are a load of bullshirt; the real reason we share stranger germs on a stone is because it’s The Thing To Do. So we did it. And this is not just some stone you can walk by and kiss as you tour the castle. Remember I said before, it’s part of a floor opening in the battlements. The Blarney Stone is across the open bit from where you stand, and it’s not on the ground floor. So to kiss it, you sit down on the edge, an assistant holds your torso, and you lean backwards and down so you Spider-Man kiss it while like in a wheel pose. It is super awkward to get into the right position and understand what you’re supposed to do with your body. And it is VERY scary. I am not scared of heights (not more than is necessary) but I was very shaky when I performed this yoga of the insane.
See it was pretty high! and so pretty!
“Oh okay this isn’t so bad!”
“wait WHAT am I supposed to do?!”
I’m glad I did The Thing but damn if I ever want to relive that.
To let you get your breath back afterwards, the castle features a beautiful garden on its grounds, perfect for strolling around in the rain.
And to remind you of the crazy thing you just did beforehand, all the plants are deadly.
|
|
|
So fun! Don’t eat poison!
We carried on our way through County Cork (I love saying that like the cast of The Ferryman) to another so fun and so Irish Must Do Thing – a stay at Ballymaloe.
Ballymaloe House is a hotel and restaurant, and nearby they have a cookery school (that’s how we say it in the Isles) and a grain store and the most incredible garden I’ve ever seen. Like every single vegetable you could want, they have growing out there. Meanwhile my windowsill basil died. Ballymaloe is a beloved historical treasure, which Myrtle and Ivan Allen opened in 1964 to show off to the world Irish Country cuisine and hospitality. It’s the best place to stay when you’re out in the countryside because it’s like The Place, historic and beloved. Our room was so sweet and cozy and it felt so appropriate to stay there while in Ireland.
peep those bottles of water tho!
Ballymaloe is renowned for its five-course dinners and its roster of high caliber chefs and cooking students, so dinner was pretty nice. When we went, they weren’t super used to vegan accommodations but said that they of course could feed me. They started me off with a vegetable soup that was lovely (as really any vegetable soup is) and a salad with pomegranates, so even if it ended here I would have been happy.
|
|
There was also great bread (more on that later!) so like, reals happy. As for my main course, it was a nonexciting but nonthreatening rice pilaf with spinach and roasted squash and a cranberry chutney jawn that did not really go. It was fine (I’m fiiine), but I think going back now they would be able to whip up something much more exciting.
And I did get a good dessert! Oh first up I got a palate cleanser of fruit sorbet, which is fun. You don’t get that all that often.
My real dessert though was a chocolate carrageenan pudding! Carrageenan is a seaweed that is used as a thickener. For the pudding, an Irish classic as we were told, they cook the seaweed quickly and then let it soak until it exudes lots of jelly-like substance (fun! not gross!) and then you take the jelly and mix it with milk and sugar and stuff. Mine was chocolate yay and topped with strawberries and dark chocolate ribbons.
Overall it wasn’t the most interesting meal, but considering it was an accommodation at an institution, I was fine with it. It’s the whole experience you go there for, not just the food. At dinner that night, Myrtle Allen was seated right next to our table. She has recently passed away, so it was really special to get to meet her.
I was so excited about the carrageenan pudding being a real thing that I bought little bags of carrageenan in the Ballymaloe gift shop! We also bought a signed copy of Myrtle Allen’s cookbook (which I included a picture of because I had one). The best part of the gift shop was obviously the best part of anything on earth: the shop doggie. I pet the doggie for a while, along with two children that I did not talk to.
We also made a visit to the cooking school a few kilometers away. The grounds are lovely but pretty vast, and it wasn’t so lovely when we had to retrace all of our many steps to find our lost keys! The gardens there and on the main Ballymaloe property are real goals. I almost snatched some of the chard because it’s hard to find in London but I didn’t.
i snatch you!
My favorite thing we did at Ballymaloe was take a cooking class! They have a few on offer and we decided to do the bread making class because we love bread so g-d much. It was so much fun. We made a few loaves of Irish soda bread to be served at that day’s breakfast, so now I know how to make that up right good. I should make that today. The recipe they use wasn’t vegan though, so they also had us made a really great brown bread so that there was bread I could eat at breakfast too. It was a suuuuper liquidy bread batter and they had me mix it by hand so it was hilarious but also like I was wearing long sleeves. I guess that was my bad though. Anyway bread is great. I was sad that we weren’t making loaves for our own taking but we still had several days of travel left so I guess it’s okay.
more like Edward GROSShands AM I RIGHT
“What do you mean we have to share our bread with other guests??”
FACE MAN’S BACK!
So our time in County Cork was loverly, a great opportunity to disconnect from our day-to-day and enjoy nature. And rain. If you’re going to Ireland, you’re going to Blarney Castle probably, and if so, you should pay Ballymaloe a visit.
This tree is TOO TINY FOR TWO BIRDS!!!!
Khiva, Uzbekistan: More Ancient Sandy Sights and History
After our lovely time in Samarkand, we ventured to our next Uzbek stop of Khiva. Khiva would resemble Bukhara more than the others, in that it’s a contained little ancient town full of minarets and mosques and the whole damn thing is a UNESCO World Heritage site. Also, it was similarly dusty and dry and boring for modern travelers but interesting to see for history purposes. It’s unclear when exactly Khiva was established, but historians say it probably came about after Jesus was born like as a birthday present for him maybe. (Not that last part.) But in the past thousand or so years, the town has gone through several different ruling classes from various cultures. I guess they all kept thinking like I did, going ‘hmm this place seems interesting let’s rule it up oh wait everyone here is mean and it’s kind of blah let’s bounce.’
But before we bounce, we have to get there. From Samarkand, we had a midnight-ish train to Khiva. The lovely staff at L’Argamak Hotel in Samarkand let us hang out until we had to leave, even though that meant we were keeping everyone up. They were so nice I missed them immediately upon leaving. Our train was actually to Urgench, a city large enough to have a train station, because Khiva is a little wee sandy baby that is not and does not. Once at Urgench, we had a car waiting for us, arranged through Sultan at the Advantour tour company, who arranged all our Uzbek transit (recommended; you don’t want to deal with Uzbek train tickets or taxi drivers). I honestly don’t remember this overnight train, which means it had to be okay, right? Or I just was so traumatized that I blocked out all memories? No I think this one was uneventful, and uneventful is good.
The next morning, we met our driver for the ride to Khiva, and he was the best driver and communicator yet so I wished we had him for more than just a 30 minute ride (‘whether bright or melancholyyyyy rough and ready finely spun’ anyone??). He told us about Urgench and how many people live there and what they do and grow and it was nice! I think there’s cotton there.
So Khiva was originally full of Iranian people speaking an Iranian language. But then the Turks, those darn Turks, took over power in the 10th century. After the Turks got tired of all the mean people in the restaurants and all the French tourists, the Astrakhans had their turn. Then the Astrakhans went back to their preferred job of imprisoning wizards and Khiva fell into the hands of Russians, under General Konstantin von Kaufman in the 1800s. Russia was soooo nice though and let Khiva act in a quasi-independent manner, kind of like they are doing to the USA right now! I guess this is why you can get by speaking Russian in Khiva, although no that’s not it because it’s pretty regular all over Uzbekistan so maybe it filtered in otherwise; I’m sure they took over at various points in time and space. Anyway Khiva was part of the USSR in the 1900s and then it became part of the Uzbek Soviet Socialist Republic and now it is part of Uzbekistan and yes I am getting all of this from wikipedia but my husband donates to it (unlike the rest of us who see that message ‘we just need a dollar from you and then you can keep having access to all this knowledge that you regularly use just give us a dollar’ and we just click that black ‘x’ on the box and are like byeeees am I right up top) so I think it’s okay.
Khiva exists in two parts – the ‘modern’ part of town where people live and where there are like roads (barely) and markets (found one) and stuff, and the ancient inner town completely surrounded by walls. The inside walled part is the historical center, the important part for tourists, the World Heritage area. It’s called Ichan Kala, the walled inner town, and it contained more than 50 monuments of historical importance that honestly are like heavily unmarked so I don’t really know what I’m going to be sharing pictures of, just know that they are the historic important things. Luckily, wiki tells me that the most important parts of Ichan Kala are the walls and the gates, and I can’t mess up identifying those! Above is a gate! Wheee!
Right on the other side of the gate was our guest house, the Qosha Darvoza which no I don’t know how to say either but I do love u-less q words. I highly recommend this guest house for Khiva visits because the location is perfect – right outside that (north?) gate of the old town so it’s very close but not inside the ancient walls, which is important because inside is like an immediate uncomfortable trip back in time and you don’t want to sleep in that kind of place. Also who knows if there’s electricity? So the Qosha cabana is a great choice. The man working there was also one of three very kind Uzbeks we met during our time in the country so you will want to meet him because that’s like a unicorn in these parts. Also it had such a cool desert-chic vibe.
The courtyard/breakfast area, with the rooms surrounding it
outside the Qosha cabana
I loved the Qosha’s location because as soon as you left those front doors, you were surrounded by the sights. First, across the street was a beautiful garden that we enjoyed walking through as we went back and forth to the old town. It was the only pretty thing in Khiva!
omg why are you laughing you look like an idiot
I’m sharing this super embarrassing picture (where’s that PPK thread when you need it) because it’s so cool how you can see the ancient gate and walls of the city in the background! Once you enter those gates, it really is a whole other world, and Uzbekistan itself is a whole nother world too so when you’re in the Ichan Kala it’s like so many worlds removed from earth know what I’m saying. Once you enter the gates, it’s like a little bit of Mars or maybe Tatooine right? Here’s that same girl in the same dumb hat on the other side (I’m on the east side, I’m on the west side, I’m on the one side, I’m on the other side).
Note to people who like to not be broken, climbing these walls is a bit treacherous! You can pretty much scramble your way up to this first level and take a few steps, but don’t go too far because it is like from the 8th century and is not exactly a ‘path’. Also climbing up to the higher levels would require more than just the willingness to scamper; I think you’d need rope. Kinda skir kinda skir!
A few steps beyond the gate, we ran into construction on one of the major buildings, because we were in Uzbekistan and that’s what we learned to expect all over this country so why should this tiny protected town be any different.
According to the signs around the construction site (this they sign well but of course none of the historic sites have plaques or any info eye roll), a Chinese company was overseeing this work. We seriously considered going in without hardhats and seeing if they could feed us (god we missed Chinese food/non-Uzbek food).
After this point, the Ichan Kala land becomes a complete maze. It is full of winding little alleys and no street signs (they aren’t streets!) and buildings that all look the same, lather rinse repeat, so following a path or keeping hold of any sort of intention with your wandering is impossible. And filling all these alleys are children who have learned how to say ‘WHERE YOU FROM’ in the languages of the main groups of tourists who come here – English, French, German – and they will chase you and harass you and shout WHERE YOU FROM as long as they want. Kind of annoying! And they see how lost you look because who can follow directions in this sort of confusing sandy maze! So they will chase you and ask you if they can help you and ask for American money and we were like ‘we don’t have any American money we are in Uzbekistan!’ and they won’t care and will just keep repeatedly asking you for it and chasing you. If you persevere, you’ll make it through the shady part of the alleys and into the opening up of the tourist center.
screaming from the minarets
And if you make it into the tourist center of the old town, you make it to all the minarets and mosques and unmarked other buildings and LOTS of French people. This is the one place on earth I’ve been where the touts don’t lead with English, guessing that regardless of where you are from as a white person, you probably speak English, playing the odds that English will work. Here the odds are higher that French will work! They lead with French because the tourists here are mostly French! It was kind of cool to notice that difference. And to not be bombarded with nonstop shouts of ‘where you from’ and ‘here buy this souvenir’ in English was fun.
FRENCH PEOPLEEEEE
Strangely, despite how barren this section of the country seemed, the very center of the center of the old town was full of tourists and LINED with touts and souvenir stands, which was quite surprising. And kind of blew the whole ancient historical vibe that is the purpose of a visit to Khiva. And if you didn’t catch what I was saying before, everyone was kind of mean, except for our guest house man and like one guy at one restaurant we ate at. Over three days! It still is cool to see this old town center and all the buildings, but you could honestly get your fill in a few hours, not a few days, and preserve some of your sanity, patience, and good will towards men (although that’s no longer necessary, haven’t you heard, men are over).
screaming from the minarets
Some of the buildings are pretty cool! As you can see! But we’ve been looking at similarly blue tiled mosques for like yeeeeears now. They all have names and stories but they weren’t well marked and we were kind of over it, I’m sorry to say. But it happens with long-term travel! Or even short-term travel! Don’t feel bad!
We mainly wandered around the old town, got lost, got hot, got thirsty, and looked on with appreciation at all the old structures. We were planning to climb the minaret but the random lady who came out of nowhere and approached us as the guardian of the minaret (a suspicious thing that happened at least five times a day so far since arriving in Uzbekistan) gave us a price for the climb that just wasn’t worth it. But it was super hot anyway so pictures will suffice.
what you see what you see what you see what you see is human
My favorite thing in the old town was honestly this map of the Silk Road. It was exciting to see how far we’ve come, how much we’ve seen. And it gave us some much needed boosting in terms of morale to remember how epic this trip was.
I also liked this statue, of Al Khorezmi. Khorezm is the name of the region surrounding Khiva, and Al Khorezmi was a scholar who I’m gonna guess is the same as Al Khwarizmi, the famous Persian mathematician who is considered the founder of algebra. He does indeed look like he’s thinking hmm why on earth am I foisting this shit upon the world. No just kidding algebra is great.
Oh I want to say that this is the Jame Mosque, a) because I know that the Jame mosque has over 200 columns and this looks like it could be it and b) I just want to be able to name something in this post considering what a shit job I did of recognizing what anything was in the first place. The Jame mosque’s pillars date back to the 10th century, and you can walk among them while enjoying the one single space in town that provides respite from the heat and sun. Apparently there’s a carriage in here that was a gift from Tsar Nicholas (old friend!) to the khan but I don’t see it, do you.
As for food, I was able to navigate the same-old same-old menus in the old town’s tourist-friendly (but not actually friendly, as we’ve established) restaurants. The place I was excited for turned out to be the world because of the staff. I think it was called Cafe Kheizem, right at the main central toilets (yes there are toilets in the center!). It was disappointing because the waitress didn’t write down our order and so my most-wanted dish of stewed cabbage never came, and when I asked the staff about it (she was long gone by then) there was no receipt or anything to point to. UGH. Listen, if you are in the restaurant business, it is not impressive at all if the waitstaff can remember your order without writing it down. It’s literally the stupidest thing to try to do to impress us, because if it works it’s keeping things at base level competence, and if it doesn’t work well then your customers don’t get their food. JUST WRITE IT DOWN. I really wanted that cabbage too. I did have a salad of course and a cold noodle salad thing that we shared and they were fine but like so boring.
Khorezem Art restaurant, on the other hand, is the only one I can recommend because like I said before, the guy working wasn’t outright mean to us. And it was fine. And they have beans! I got all the little accidentally vegan dishes on the menu and it made a very satisfying meal.
So, we basically saw everything there is to see and then another three more times in one day. The next day, we slept super late and didn’t go back to go see the same things again till late in the day, which was nice. We spent some time enjoying Uzbek television in our room. The only thing we could understand was a children’s program that was teaching English. And yet we watched it.
We were set to leave super early in the morning, in another car booked with Sultan, to take us to Nukus (we will talk about that in the next post!). We checked out the night before since it would be so early, and told the Qosha Darvoza guys that we wouldn’t need breakfast that early since it would be too early for humans to eat. They were so nice that they wouldn’t let us skip breakfast, and instead they packed us a giant wine box full of an insane amount of dumplings (not for me but still, nice), water bottles (def for me!), bread, cucumbers and tomatoes (I know), pears, and cake. How sweet is that?! Yay for nice people! And it saved us from having to buy stuff for our train that night.
Everything else was bullshit though, and we’d have even more rudeness in our next stop. We were so sick of this country and how badly it wanted to screw with it, apparently, so we were kind of dragging ourselves from place to place and going through the motions. What a shame to feel this way when traveling in such far away, seemingly cool places! Well not everything can be a winner, and at least we saw some nice mosques and minarets and other old things.
