UZBEKISTAN

I flew Uzbek airlines to Tashkent in an old army jet that had been repurposed for commercial use, and I felt every minute of the 3000-mile journey in that rattly old box. But to be honest I would have been disappointed to have gone any other way to an ex-Soviet country, and it did go direct to Tashkent from London.

First impressions of Tashkent were that it was very modern-looking city, but a closer look reveals the bizarre attempts to introduce history and legacy into a country that didn’t exist 50 years ago. Statues of Soviet leaders have been replaced by ones of the great 14th century ruler Timor (also known as ‘Tamurlaine’ and other variations – that’s how vast his reach was). It’s interesting that many young people are now taking an interest in him and he has become a bit of a national hero despite his realm stretching far and away from present day Uzbekistan.

We started off in a busy and colourful café or ‘chaikhana’ (literally tea room) for lunch, served with tea as most meals are. This seemed to be a popular destination for groups of local women chatting with their girlfriends. Straightaway I noticed everything was decorated. You see this beautiful china everywhere, and the tablecloth has what looks like embroidery underneath a plastic coating. It was the central Asian love of ubiquitous ornamentation that had brought me to the country.

And that enthusiasm for decoration made the Museum of Applied Arts one of the highlights of Tashkent. The building was a former diplomat’s house and contains hundreds of examples of folk art from embroidery, carpets, porcelain, jewellery, musical instruments to painting. It has a beautiful courtyard too, enlivened by music from a small group of traditional musicians and dancers.

Another highlight – the metro. As in Moscow, some of the stations are very fancy. Officially we weren’t supposed to take photos which is odd but might be left over from paranoid Soviet days. This one is Mustaqillik Maydoni and is probably one of the more modestly decorated of the stations. If I had had more time I would have visited all of them.

Tillya Sheikh mosque, part of a huge complex which was strangely empty of people. It holds the world’s oldest Qu’ran manuscript.

I wish we had been staying at the Soviet-style Brutalist Hotel Uzbekistan because it’s such a cool-looking modernist icon. Its shape is supposed to represent an open book and it proved impossible to photograph.

We went to the Aral Sea, or what is left of it. It was once the third largest lake in the world but, in a relatively short period of time, has all but dried up causing ecological devastation and economic hardship for former fishing communities. While Kazakhstan, on the north side of the sea, has worked to raise the water levels in recent years, Uzbekistan continues to drain it.

The project began in the sixties when the Soviets decided to make the area a major producer of cotton or ‘white gold’ as they called it. Cotton isn’t a native species in Central Asia and it’s a thirsty plant so they diverted water from the Aral Sea to create irrigation channels, and now this once vast body of water is a fraction of its original size. Our lovely, young Uzbek guide, Nilufar, cheerfully told us how she, like most school children, spent her school summer holidays helping to pick the cotton. She didn’t seem to bear any resentment about having to do this as it she was doing it ‘for my country’ – not the first or last time she reminisced about life under Soviet rule.

We drove across the former sea bed for what felt like miles to get to Muynak, a former fishing town but now a dusty outpost. We had lunch with a local family who were friendly and welcoming despite the obvious hardship. The community is trying to find other ways to raise income and they are hoping tourism will be the answer. It all felt very sad and half-hearted, they would much rather be making a living from fishing. We visited a tiny museum and then to see the armada of rusting trawlers that are now stranded on the sand.

The abandoned boats are admittedly very photogenic, but hardly objects of beauty. They represent disastrous ecological decisions made by former and present-day governments. Most are covered in graffitti and are used as climbing frames by local kids.

Later on we went to the edge of the remaining water and it was a stinking mess as you would expect from a lake that is evaporating. Ironically I was given slices of melon to eat as I sat and looked at the mud – another non-native crop that benefitted from the irrigation channels. We camped in nearby yurts, and some people tried swimming in the water, but I found the whole experience depressing and I couldn’t wait to get away.

After a night at Nukus, we went to the Mizdakhan Necropolis, a huge ancient burial site set over several hills, some graves as old as 2400 years. There is much antiquity to see here and I’m sure you could spend a whole day wandering around. I was intrigued by some of the modern graves with iron railings around them like beds and a black stone etching of the deceased’s face.

Our very stylish and smiley guide at the cemetery. He didn’t speak English, I don’t speak Uzbek so I know little more about this place than when I arrived. But it was an impressive site.

On to the Ayaz-Kala complex of three fortresses situated on a hilltop in northern Uzbekistan overlooking the Kyzylkum Desert. The desert is now even dustier thanks to the dried up Aral Sea. We stayed at the nearby yurt camp perched in a nearby ridge.

Every morning the camels go off for a long wander and come back again around supper time. Like most of us, they need a bit of encouragement to get going in the morning. One of the camp herders shoos them off, and as soon as he’s gone back inside, they come back and wander around the camp for a bit. I don’t think many of the locals would agree with me but I think they’re lovely animals. I felt a bit guilty that I had camel milk porridge while we stayed here but it was so creamy and delicious.

The evening meal was served on this grass-roofed platform. It was very dark, I had no idea what I was eating. Suddenly something dropped from above and started running around my t shirt. I would have thought I would be hysterical in this situation, but to my great surprise I managed to stay calm. I stood up and politely asked the others if they could see something crawling on me. The guys opposite said ‘Oh my god it’s a scorpion’, a few people shrieked, someone else said it was a big spider, Nilufar whacked it away with a napkin. It ran off into the darkness and we never established what it was. I don’t know who was more relieved – me or it.

It’s tempting go up to the fort to watch the sun as it’s setting, but I preferred to watch effect of the setting sunlight on the fort itself. So many buildings in Uz turn a delicious pinky orange in the evening light. The name Kyzylkum means ‘red sand’.

Yurting (not sure that’s a word) is one tiny step up from basic camping. The walls are essentially canvas sheets, carpets, rugs etc pulled over a wooden frame. I shared with about ten other people most of whom were strangers. Where I lay I had a big gap right next to me, and a powdery draught blowing through as well as a total lack of privacy. Despite this I slept well.

The campsite is run by Rano a former student of Uzbek literature. She is a real character with a reputation for being quite fierce but I think she would have to be putting up with horrible western tourists turning up and complaining about lack of wifi. Anyway she was a lot of fun and by miles the most stylish person I saw in Uz. I love the ikat print dresses and complementing headscarves (jug – model’s own).

Khiva is near the border with Turkmenistan and I instantly loved it. In fact it was my favourite of the cities we visited. The Itchan Kala (inner city) is encircled by huge, curved, crenallated walls that turn pink at dawn and dusk and enclose the historic centre making it feel small and friendly.

Our hotel was the Orient Star hotel which is located in an old madrasah. My bedroom (and I imagine all the others) was once a small studying cell with little in the way of distraction other than a nook to put your candle in. But the window of the adjoining bathroom opened out onto the city and I enjoyed the view from the bath tub. All the rooms surround a courtyard on the inside. Breakfast was served in a nearby building which had the odd vibe of an English village hall with its large tea urns, square tables and plastic chairs.

The madrasah was built by Muhammad Aminkhan in the nineteeth century, along with the nearby unfinished minaret whose squat shape and beautiful decoration are one of the most recognisable features of the city. I’m amazed the 21st century Uzbeks have resisted the temptation to complete it.

I loved wandering around the 19th century Tosh-hovli palace which consists of three large courts and over a hundred rooms, plus a circular area where the khan pitched his yurt. Ever the nomad despite his fancy palace. There was an area to receive distinguished guests, a hareem and the court of justice all beautifully decorated with majolica tiles and painted and carved woodwork. I am sure there has been some restoration here but I struggled to see it as the modern tendency is to straighten things and this place had a reassuring wonkiness.

The woodcarving workshop in Khiva. The city is famous for the craft and you see carved embellishments and geometric designs everywhere including doors and window meshes as well as the decorated pillars of the Juma Mosque.

Above, the laughing dove – not unique to Uzbekistan but the first time I had ever seen this pretty little thing. So named because its call sounds like someone chuckling.

Inside the Juma Mosque. There are just over 200 columns here that have been carved from black elm over its 800-year history, and each one is unique. It’s very dark inside – that’s my excuse for this awful photograph which shows nothing of the exquisite woodwork.

You see these butterfly-shaped tiles punctuating brickwork everywhere but particularly in Khiva. The shape was significant in Zorastrianism originally, and displayed horizontally. Now they are purely decorative, and vertical. Or is it the other way round? I bought myself a turquoise one to take home.

I love the style of Central Asian women although there is a touch of Monty Python to the white-scarved woman here. The men play it safe sartorially, although every man wears a hat or ‘doppa’ each of which has a pattern that identifies your home town.

One night, I had the very delicious shivit oshi for dinner. Pasta in some form is believed by some archaeologists to have originated in Central Asia although I’m sure the Italians would have something to say about it. But noodles are definitely another one of those foods, like dumplings, that has a tradition right across Asia and into Europe. These ones are coloured and flavoured with dill, served with meat stew and yoghurt.

After Khiva, a drive to another impressive Silk Road city – Bukhara. The hotel here was a definite shock after that nice madrasah: everything was brand new with pink and white fake flowers everywhere and plastic covers on chairs. I imagine it’s where Barbie stays when she’s in town.

A young couple were having their wedding photos done in the lobby. The location and styling of these is hugely important to betrothed couples and their families. They will travel miles to have them taken in the right places. The Uzbeks definitely show no restraint when it comes to embellishment – lots of bling. I was surprised the brides wear traditional western-style white meringue dresses and veils. It feels a bit of a shame considering the rich history of textile decoration in this region, although I’m sure not all weddings are as conspicuous as this one and I guess it’s good to have a choice.

The Chor Minor is one of the most striking sites in the city. It was originally the entrance to a madrasah and the name means ‘four minarets’ although they were mostly used for storage. The front left tower fell down in 1995 after some poor excavation work, and was hastily rebuilt using inferior materials and funding from UNESCO who weren’t happy with the shoddy work. The whole issue was somehow kept secret from tourists and it’s very typical of the Uzbek attitude to architecture – everything can be rebuilt and no-one need ever know.

Likewise the impressive walls that surround the Ark, two metres thick in places, are not entirely original – most either have been, or are being rebuilt. I liked Bukhara a lot, not as much as Khiva, but it has retained its ancient feel despite the modernisatons. I even found a sweet little gallery with lots of black and white photos and bought some postcards of the old city.

The very impressive Samanid Mausoleum. Perfectly symmetrical and cuboid, as you would expect in a region famous for its mathematicians, it’s amazing to think it was buried under silt from a nearby flooding river for a long time. I imagine it must have been wonderful to have unearthed it.

Inside the very beautiful Ulugbek Madrasah, the only madrasah in Central Asia that dates to the 15th century Timurid dynasty and built by Ulugh Beg, famous as a mathematician and astronomer, immortalised by the many star patterns on the tiles.

Later in the evening we had a meal with a view of the famous Kalan minaret from where prisoners were once thrown and I was slightly disappointed they’d stopped doing it. It would have made a good sideshow to the meal.

On our way out of Bukhara, and heading along the Silk Road, we stopped at the Rabat-Malik Caravanserai. Not much survives but the portal is very impressive. Opposite was this very well preserved sardoba where rainwater was collected and stored. The name sardoba comes from the Persian for ‘cold water’.

Finally we drove to Samarkand, a name with such romantic connotations. There’s even a poem written about it. But for me, it was the most disappointing and controversial place from a cultural point of view. So many old buildings are being brazenly knocked down and rebuilt with exact, but now perfect, replicas. I did walk past one old building where the workmen were demolishing a beautiful, but damaged tiled wall with huge mallets without any apparent concern that everyone could see them do it. Bits of old blue tile were flying everywhere, I even took a bit home with me.

Hardly sensitive restoration, and no wonder they have fallen foul of UNESCO. So much craftsmanship has undoubtedly gone into the replacement buildings and I had to admit it was very convincing. But personally, I would like to see the original buildings, properly preserved, no matter how incomplete or shabby, and I sought them out everywhere we went. However, a lot of people do like the new buildings and feel it’s better than losing them altogether to damage from earthquakes for example. And if it’s a ploy to attract visitors, it’s most definitely working – numbers of tourists have risen every year. For me though, it’s just the not real thing and it left me cold.

We visited the Ulugh Beg Observatory. He built it in the early 15th century and everybody who was anybody in the world of medieval astronomy studied here. There is a very impressive building that housed an enormous sextant but it was too dark and narrow to take a good photograph. Above, a portrait of the great man himself.

The Uzbek obi non flatbread is always decorated and the Samarkand version is considered one of the best. Despite appearances it’s actually chewy, and should be torn not cut.

The Shah-i-Zinda necropolis was the highlight of Samarkand. Some of the mausoleums date back to the 14th century and are richly decorated and wonderfully imperfect, although there has also been some controversial ‘restoration’ of some of the tombs. So many tourists come here and it’s easy to forget this is also a sacred site for many Muslims.

Our last meal in Uzbekistan was at a family home/restaurant where, at last, I got to try the famous plov. It’s another one of those meals that has a version across Asia and into Europe via the Arabs – pilau, pilaf, biryani and even paella have the same origins. It consists of sticky rice, vegetables and meat and looks like its name suggests. I would have liked a bit more seasoning or spice in the version I had, but it was definitely a satisfying dish, and the bulb of roasted garlic on top helped massively.

A mixed experience in Uzbekistan. We did a wide circuit of the country and some of the places were magnificent, and some were disappointing. I have ranted a lot above about the insensitve, never-ending building restoration work going on, but there is so much more to see in this country that is very positive. If I were to go again, I would spend more time in places like Bukhara and Khiva and skip touristy Samarkand. And I would spend more time in museums. Everything from clothes, to tiles, to books, are so richly decorated that I could happily spend a couple of weeks just focusing on these.