The 'Stans - Bukhara to Samarkand (4 August 2019)

I wake up again covered in sweat. I'm happy to see the back of this hostel. What makes it worse is that the German tells me an air conditioned room cost an extra $2 a night. Brilliant. I make my way to breakfast in the hostel courtyard.

I have some time before the train in the afternoon, so I head to Hammam Bozori Kord - an Uzbek bathhouse. I try to obtain cash from the cash points but have no luck. ATMs are very hit and miss in Central Asia. I offer to pay in dollars, it looks like I've badly offended the owner. However, he soon changes his mind and takes my dollars. I wasn't expecting anything back but he gave me change in S'om and a half decent exchange rate.

I opt for the full package in the Hammam and go from hot stones, to a good soaking and a massage. It ends with a large man wearing not very much, smearing a ginger paste on my back. I'm then instructed to lie back on the hot stones. I think he forgets about me as im lying on this stone for half an hour and my back becomes hotter and hotter until its unbearable. I get a bucket of cold water thrown on me and the Hammam is done.

At the hostel, I pack my bags and head out on to the main road to find a cab. A couple of cabs try and charge me more than I double, I eventually find a reasonable man and we had to the station. The train to Samarkand leaves at 15:50, but these time I am travelling my Uzbek bullet train - the Afrosayib.

For under $10 for the journey, the Afrosayib is definitely the way to go. Although in true Central Asian style, the train was still late and only hit top speed for a few moments.

We arrive in Samarkand in the early evening and I find a nice taxi driver to take me to Amir Hostel. The taxi driver had a love of 80's British pop and he played me all of his favourites. I check in to Amir Hostel an am impressed with its cleanliness and modernity. It feels like the first hostel I've stayed in which hasn't been basic and it has curtains on each bunk - privacy at last!

I take an evening walk to the centre of Samarkand to see the Registan in person. A long walk in a straight line via new Samarkan, through a park with a massive flag pole (more on that later).



The Registan of Samarkand was as spectacular as anticipated. Although annoyingly was closed in the evening due to some sort of dance recital, with the band stand partially blocking my view. The park by the Registan was heaving with locals, enjoying evening snacks and drinks.

I grab some grilled meat for dinner and head back to the hostel. Taxi drivers seem a lot friendlier and cheaper in Samarkand, I manage to grab a ride in only a few minutes.

The 'Stans - Bukhara (3 August 2019)

I wake up saturated. My new air con didn't help much. As soon as I lie in the bed, I begin sweating. But up I get to explore Bukhara.

Five minutes from my hostel is the Chor Minor, so I make this the first stop of the day. The Chor Minor is a tiny mosque, with sky blue tiled minarets.

As I walk around Bukhara it feels noticeably less busy that Khiva.This may be because Khiva is far more compact and all the tourists (still only 10s) are squeezed into this area. In Bukhara it feels as though the entire town is on holiday.

Of all things, I find a German bakery (Cafe Wishbone), which served a reasonable coffee. I miss nice coffee. It's been impossible to find so far. The coffee tastes like an instant coffee, but it'll have to do. Afterwards I head to the market to do some souvenir shopping. I find Bukhara bird scissors, hand forged in the many steel workshops in the market.

There is more walking and a visit to Bukhara State Architectural Art Museum. Not the best museum of the trip. At least I get a better view of the city walls.

Its get to evening time and I start chatting to a Belgian and a German guy. The German and I go for dinner and discuss every European's topic of the moment - Brexit. We walk back to the hostel taking in the now lit up Bukhara in the dusk light.

Now, let's cast our minds back to lunch yesterday. My waiter, Akhmedov, offered to take me to shisha. The time had come. We met in the Lyabi Hauz square and he asked whether i was hungry. I declined and we jumped into a cab to the shisha bar. The cab went a far way out of town, in the back head of my head I was planning how I would escape if I was going to get jumped.

We arrived at the Golden Dragon Bukhara. So far, all legit. The best was to describe it would be as half club, half sealed off shisha room. The tunes were pumping in the 'club', which consisted of solely Uzbek men sitting on sofas around the edge of the room and two Uzbek women dancing on the dance-floor. A 95:5 ratio. We went straight to the shisha area, a closed off air-conditioned room where it was just me and Akhmedov. He ordered me a beer and a fruit juice for himself and we went through an hour or two of shisha, whilst he live-streams the events to his IG following.

After a while we headed back into town. He 'ran out of money', so I paid the dollar for the cab. He suggested keeping the night going, but I called it a day.