The 'Stans - Khiva to Bukhara (2 August 2019)

I woke up bright and early in order to catch the 08:57 train from Khiva to Bukhara. I packed my bags and walked straight through the old town to the railway station - a walk of about a mile. The early start mean I avoided the desert heat, though the heavy backpack still meant I was a sweaty mess by the end of it.

The walk after exiting the old town to the railway station showed the investment being made by Uzbekistan into their historical Silk Road towns. Manicured lawns and immaculate paths were being laid, with a vast number of shells that are soon to be shops and accommodation. 

A helpful sign showing me how far I have left to traverse Uzbekistan:

Khiva railway station was only just opened in June 2019 and offers a comfortable, albeit slow, journey to Bukhara. The Afrosiyob (the Ubzek bullet train), does not currently service Khiva. However, the trains were still modern and clean, just very slow.

After spending many hours in cars in recent days, it felt almost luxurious to have the space of a train carriage. The train was sparse with tourists and I got speaking to an elderly Malaysian couple who were doing their own tour of Central Asia. We passed a good couple of hours until the train arrived in Bukhara.

Again, we go back to taxi drivers. Outside of Bukhara station taxi drivers were grabbing tourists left, right and centre in order to extract as many S'om as possible. I knew the exact distance and the rough price I had to pay, so refused all of the rip-off offers. Eventually, I was one of the few tourists remaining. One Uzbek guy speaking English offered me a good price, he disappeared for about 10 minutes and came back with a different guy and told me to go in his car. This guy spoke no English. I jumped in and we headed to the hostel. The driver asked for the hostel number, made some calls and we started driving in what I hoped was the direction.

After 20 minutes we arrived at the destination. I had booked the Mekhtar Caravan Sarai, this building had a totally different name. It seemed to match the destination in Maps.Me (offline maps - definitely download it if you head to Central Asia). Turns out the hostel did in fact change its name, but did not update any of its details on any of its booking sites. Helpful.

I checked into my dorm - a tiny toom, with two bunk beds. Barely enough space for one person to stand between the bunk beds. No aircon - I didn't realise how much of a problem this would be until later at night.

At this point I am starving. I did not pack any food for the train and didn't expect the train to be delayed. Rookie. I made the walk from the hostel into the centre of town which must have taken 30 minutes in the blistering sun. Today was the hottest day of the trip so far. Eventually I made it into town and tried to find a money changer or a bank to exchange my dollars. No luck. Every bank was closed. Turns out Thursday afternoon is a bank holiday for every bank or money changer.

Annoyingly, I had left my card at the hostel. So back to the hostel I went and picked up my trusty Mastercard. Again, what an error. If you find a cash machine that accepts Mastercard in Central Asia you are a lucky man. Visa is king. So after returning back to town via the hostel, and another 40 minutes of walking, I find that no ATM will accept my card.

At this point I'm raging and hungry. I go back to the hostel AGAIN. Pick up my visa, head back to town and find an ATM that gives me S'om. I'm now delighted that I can eat my first meal of the day at 5pm. I find a highly rated restaurant called Lyabi-Hauz in the area named the same. I order far too much food, but I can't tell you how much I have earned it.

After eating I start talking to my waiter. Akhmedov asks me about my trip and where I am going. He asks if I like shisha. I don't mind a bit of shisha. He then invites me out the following evening to his favourite shisha bar. I take his number and we agree to meet up. Afterwards I head to a café selling fresh fruit juice and knock back a watermelon shake. Perfect for the day I've had.

I then head back to the hostel via the Kalyan minaret to see it lit up in all its splendour.

Finally, back at the hostel I attempt to sleep. Even at night and with all the wooden flaps open, the room is still like a sauna. I jump into the shower for quick, icy blast and head back to sleep. The cold shower is now my air con.