Initially we were supposed to have gone on a train today to Samarkand at 830 am. However, given the late arrival of the plane and all the other issues, I thought it better to make some alterations to our itinerary to allow for some sleep. This didn’t necessarily help Nicole who maybe managed only three hours or so. Nevertheless, we grabbed a breakfast just before they closed up, and then sat in the Courtyard of the Mercure until it was close to our checkout time. You see, we would rather have just booked two nights at the same hotel, but Thursday night seems to be at quite a premium and we struggled to find anything available. Nicole was able to get us a room at the Swissotel just a couple kilometers away, and they let us check in a bit early.
After resettling in, we began our exploration of Tashkent. We walked toward a metro stop as the Tashkent subway is apparently quite ornately decorated as are most subways from Soviet times. When we tried to do this, however, we found that they only took cash, and my money from the ATM gave me only large bills and the ticket machines told me I wouldn’t get change. No more subway. I couldn’t justify a subway ride for $20. On the way to the stop, we walked by the Hotel Uzbekistan, another relic of the Soviet era — a rather Brutalist piece with maybe a nod to some middle-eastern accents. It’s actually a good metaphor for this country that seems to be having a bit of an identity crisis. I was brushing up on my Russian prior to this trip because almost everyone here (in Tashkent at least) seems to know it. However, everyone also speaks Uzbek (unless you’re Russian and refuse to learn it). So starting this morning, I did a crash course on some basic Uzbek phrases. Central Asia is a bit of a crossroads — a little bit Asia and a little bit Europe, yet not enough to be part of Eurovision.
With the subway becoming a bit irrelevant to us, we continued to use YandexGo, whose cars are insanely cheap. Our most expensive ride today was about $3. First we rode up to a Japanese garden to the north of the city for the grand some of about $1.30 including tip. The garden itself was not particularly Japanese looking, but it was a popular place for the local populace to hang out. We sat on a bench for a spell where I drank a sprite moxito, which is a mojito-flavored Sprite. It was made specially for the Uzbek market which has apparently shown preference for minty lime flavored drinks as refreshments during hot summers.
From there, we walked to the Minor Mosque, which is named for the district of Minor where it was built, and not because it’s particularly insignificant as a mosque. It is of modern construction and both Nicole and I found the large digital signs on the outside a bit distracting from the otherwise nice architecture of the mosque. We had both worn shorts today, but Uzbekistan seems to be fairly lax about the dress codes even though Uzbeks themselves seem to prefer to go business casual even when it’s 90º.
We then hopped in another Yandex over to the Hazrati Imam Complex, which is the location of the world’s oldest copy of the Quran. It was quite the complex indeed, with multiple buildings, libraries, a museum etc. There was quite a lineup for the museum, which I presume would have led to the Quran, but Nicole was getting flashbacks of the Uprising Museum in Warsaw. I cannot imagine this copy of the Quran being particularly large, so it was probably dozens of tour groups swarming over a small book. We elected to admire the architecture from the outside instead.
I had one last stop to check out before we retired back to the Swissotel. It was a little bit silly, but I wanted to see a statue of Yuri Gagarin, world’s first human in space. In the statue, he’s standing on the earth and holding Sputnik in his hand. I thought he looked a little sassy in this statue, more like an Olympic gymnast finishing their floor routine than the first man in space.
Our last Yandex was a slow slog through Tashkent traffic back to the Swissotel. It was not particularly far, but took us probably 30 minutes. All could have been resolved with left turn signals at traffic lights, which do not appear to exist here — requiring drivers to eventually force their way across in front of other cars whilst also blocking a lane of traffic that desires to go straight. After finally getting back to the hotel, we walked to a nearby pizzeria to get Nicole her first margherita pizza of the trip, but certainly not her last.
After dinner we lounged by the indoor pool and hammam and sauna of the hotel. Every hotel in this country seems to have such a setup. The sauna here was only set to 90ºc for comparison. BARELY even tepid some might say. I found the hammam a bit oppressive on the other hand, even though it was set to 48ºc — the humidity really hits, but I also felt like I needed to infuse that into my system due to the dryness of the climate.
With a deficit on sleep and a need to get up early tomorrow morning for the train to Samarkand, we called it a night.
passports & pepto bismol 