Though we’ve both been sleeping better, I tend to keep waking up around 6am. I debated going out and exploring some of the town before the crowds showed up, but it was quite overcast and not appealing. I again waited patiently for Nicole without poking her. After our breakfast, we went out to explore one last time despite a forecast suggesting a possibility of rain.
We did the reverse route from yesterday morning. There were a decent amount of people out yesterday in the triple digit heat, but today when there was very light rain, people scattered like cockroaches and we found many of the sites almost empty. The dark skies created a moody atmosphere.
The Mercure only granted us a late checkout of 1pm for a 3pm train back to Samarkand. With a 30 min Yandex ride to the train station, we still had to kill over an hour. I passed part of the time by eating another Soviet-style ice cream, but this one came in a cone instead of a straight slab, so was a bit easier for less grotesque consumption.
We boarded the “high-speed” Afrosiyob train with primarily tourists. The other Sharq trains had more of a mix of locals. Everyone was annoying Nicole as they were very active and very cough-y. At points, it was like a stereo chorus of coughs — maybe even Dolby 5.1. Nicole saw one woman stick her tongue out while coughing like Jabba the Hutt. Fortunately this train was a bit faster, but not impressively so — maybe like the Amtrak Acela but smoother. I clocked us maxing out around 170 kmh (about 105 mph).
The rain was coming down harder when we exited the train in Samarkand. It seemed to have crushed the willingness of the taxi hawkers to follow us after our “No”s and “Nyet”s. We battled the Samarkand traffic for almost 20 minutes to the Hilton Garden Inn where Nicole was again welcomed with much pomp and a little bit of circumstance. We received a room upgrade again thanks to Nicole’s Hilton Honors gold status. Our first order of business was to do another load of laundry to ensure we are able to easily cross the finish line of this trip with clean bloomers.
Speaking of crossing the finish line . . . Nicole was excited to look at the track facility across the street from the Hilton Garden Inn. So just after dinner and whilst our clothes were tumbling in the dryer, we went to check it out. As it also serves as the stadium for the city’s league football club, there were gates all around blocking access. A worker (we think) with a shovel motioned to us. In Russian, he told us it was closed. All good, we kind of figured, but then he had follow up questions — all in Russian, so it was hard to fully gauge what was happening. He asked where we were from and then if we were looking to go around the track. I said we were. He contemplated this and asked how long we would be. I said maybe 5-10 minutes and he unlocked a gate for us.
And thus Nicole got to prance around the track for a little bit as numerous Uzbek school children ran around the track oblivious to the two Americans dressed in street clothes. After taking a lap and assessing the long and high jump areas, Nicole was ready. Alas, I thought the guy speaking Russian said we could exit through the same gate as long as I locked it up as I left. Either I didn’t get that right, or someone else locked it up and took the key. I was a wee bit concerned about this. Sure, we could climb the gate, but it was a rather high gate. Nicole seemed quite calm about it all. Clearly we have different feelings about being stuck at a track. She eventually spotted an exit by climbing up into the stadium seats.
It was a bit chilly outside after the heavy rains, and Nicole thought it would be nice to go to the sauna, which we did. Then we were too hot. After collecting our laundry, we set back out into the city. We took a Yandex to Registan Square as I wanted to see it at night. It was still quite the gathering spot at this hour. We had also hoped that because we had seen so many people come out at night in Bukhara that the tchotchke shops on the pedestrian street nearby would still be open. One out of maybe 12 was open, but they didn’t have what we were looking for and we ended up walking all the way back to the Shah-i-Zina necropolis. Google had claimed they were open until 10pm. It was now a little after 9pm, and it just seemed so late to still be open, but we hoped for the best. Sure enough, there was a man working a kiosk also wondering why it was still open given that nobody else was at the site.
I didn’t have nearly enough money for our entry, however. He saw me fumbling with my bills and I only had enough for about half the rate. Nevertheless, the man working the kiosk just wanted to get back to his Netflix and waved us on through. Contrary to our experience dodging tour groups and instagram “models” on our previous visit, the necropolis was completely empty, except for maybe some ghosts.
It was a lot more relaxing the second time around. Furthermore, the Uzbeks have had the foresight to install some lights to provide some illumination at night. It’s a small touch, but one that most other places won’t care to do. The Hollywood sign, for example, is not lit up at night. All in all, it was a successful albeit very busy return to Samarkand. Tomorrow we will be departing Uzbekistan for Almaty in Kazakhstan. I have rented a car there. Nicole asked me if I was ready for that, and I frankly don’t know. Do they have left turn signals? I guess we’re about to find out.
passports & pepto bismol 