Samarkand, Uzbekistan

After an early breakfast in Tashkent and a short taxi ride, we were at the main railway station for our ride to Samarkand. We had expected a long wait at security for baggage checks but after the bags were x-rayed we were waved through. The Sharq, is an old Russian train but it was very comfortable with aeroplane styled seats and tray tables. Half the seats faced one forwards and the others back so there were four TV screens for the passengers to watch some local TV drama. Part way through a group complained about the sound being turned down and another group wanted it turned up. We were not allowed to photograph at the station or the train.

Out the window we could see a few towns with huge factories for storing grains. Some of the areas were lush from the irrigation while others had broken irrigation channels and looked very sandy and dry.

The four hour ride went quickly. When we arrived we zigzagged our way through the taxi mafia until we found a quiet taxi driver who quoted us half the rate the mafia did. They bunch up in the gateway and hassle you as a group. I can see how some tourists will just accept the overpriced offers for some peace. John had spent some time on line looking at blogs and articles about Samarkand so he could work out what was reasonable. The station was quite a way from the old city.

The B & B was in a quiet lane near the mausoleum of Amir Timur. It was a three storied wooden building with an open central area and lots of colourful wall hangings and carpets. Our room had two single beds and a bathroom with hot water pipes under the tiles so it dried out quickly after every shower. The aircon was efficient but the wifi was annoying to use as they had a different code for each device which you got on slivers of paper.

The breakfast however was wonderful with rock and watermelon, grapes and nectarines, three kinds of cheeses, salami, bread and jam, and rice or oat porridge. It was so nice not to have eggs every morning.

After some research on Tripadvisor we found a restaurant a few minutes walk away. It had a large outdoor area, a covered gazebo area and an indoor area with a dress code. The menu was huge and the food really lovely with beef and veal with cream and mushroom dishes. We have not seen anything like these dishes anywhere before in Central Asia. It also had local draught beer and it became our favourite restaurant for our whole stay until we found it closed one night and we had to find somewhere else to eat.

Everyday loads of buses and tourists would arrive to visit the Gur E Amir mausoleum. It contains the graves of the Uzbek hero Amir Timur, who died in 1405, his two sons and two grandsons. Tourists would return in the evenings to photograph the place its different moods. The local families would sit around the walls with their children to eat ice cream and cool off before bed.

Amir Temur Mausoleum 

Inside

                                                        At night

There were signs all over the city advertising the Sharq Taronalari Classical Oriental Music Festival to be held over several days at the famous Registan. The city was busy being painted, weeded, washed and repaved in time for the event. We had been told by other travellers that the Registan was closed as groups rehearsed for the event. It was frustratingly difficult to find out if tickets were available and when the Registan would be open to the public to visit. On the website there was no information about buying tickets. The festival was a competition with four prize groups and the grand prize was for $10,000US, with 31 countries participating including a group from Australia. One afternoon we saw streets blocked off and hundreds of police and plain clothed officials. We could not walk on the main streets and had to walk through back lanes in residential neighbourhoods. Black bullet proof cars sped through the streets taking the president and five other Republican state presidents to the festival.

There was a big screen on the corner opposite an intersection and we could see some of the presentations. Sadly there was no sound so we could not hear any of the music. When the camera showed some of the audience, they looked quite bored. It seems the show was for the elite. It ran for six days and the winners were a group from Azerbaijan. We later met a French couple who were offered tickets by a guard at the Registan. They were told to wait and were ushered to the front row VIP seats on the day after the president left.

Once the president had left, the Registan was open to the public from 11-4 when it once again closed for more rehearsals. The temperatures in the day are getting quite hot above 33 degrees by early afternoon. The Registan contains three madrases, educational institutions, the world's oldest. The rooms were used for classrooms and dormitories. Chingis Khan destroyed older ones. The buildings were rebuilt in Soviet times. In the public space royal proclamations and executions were held. On our visit it was set up with speakers, props and lighting from the festival.

The beautiful gold fluted ceiling


















Beside our favourite restaurant was a small stadium where rehearsals were being held every evening for the Independence Day celebrations on September 1st. We met a group of ballet dancers after their practice run and they were very excited to be in the celebrations. We could hear marching music for the soldiers as well as traditional songs.

One day we caught a local bus to the huge Siob bazaar in an older part of the town. A few elderly people sat on the footpaths begging from bazaar visitors. A new stainless steel walkway was being installed over the four lane road below and we were not allowed to cross so had to ignore the whistles from the police as we skipped through the grass verges past the trademen cutting paving to reach the road to the Afriosab Museum. On the other side was the Hazrat-Hizr mosque which was built in the 8th century but burnt to the ground by Chengis Khan. It was rebuilt in 1854 and then restored by a wealthy Bukharan in 1990s. It was closed to visitors as it was being titivated for the anniversary of the previous prime minister's passing.

The Afrosiab museum houses treasures unearthed during excavations in 1965. The most interesting was a 7th century fresco showing the Sogdian King Varkhouman receiving ranks of foreign dignitaries astride camels, horses and an elephant. There was also an excellent film made by the French animating the fresco figures to show what they would have been doing at the time.

On our way back from the museum we could not ignore the police again and they sent us off through the cemetery to get back to the bazaar. A lot of the modern headstones have beautifully etched portraits of the deceased. There were lots of quite dark-skinned women and children in the cemetery washing down the marbled graves for money. Part of the cemetery was for Jewish graves. There are about 50 Jewish residents in Samarkand, with numbers decreasing all the time.

We were impressed with all the medals this                                   man had.

A newly paved and well laid out walkway area led us to the Bibi Khanym mausoleum and  mosque which was pretty busy with tourists photographing them from all angles. Lots of new souvenir shops lined the walk way and continued on to pass by the Registan. A lot of money has been spent on developing the area for tourism.

Some of the detail on the Bibi Khanym                                         mosque

The evening before the Independence Day celebrations saw some of the streets by the rehearsal stadium closed and swarming with soldiers. We also heard from a Polish couple who had read on their Polish news that there had been about 3700 people arrested in Urgench, in the west of the country. It seemed they were held for 'walking aimlessly' at night. One poor man had been told by his doctor that he needed to walk more as he had heart disease. He found it too hot during the day so walked at night and got locked up. Apparently, the local police were a bit anxious prior to the celebrations and unlawfully arrested these people. He was later charged with having no ID on him. We religiously carry our passports and registration slips from our accommodation but as yet have never been asked for them.


Next stop further along the Silk Road - Bukhara ,Uzbekistan

Tashkent, Uzbekistan

Our guide book warned us that the crossing to Uzbekistan would take a long time and we would need to prepare well. We were told there are several banned medications in the country and when we looked at the website to see what they were -there were 200! We listed all ours and their uses to make life easier. We were also warned that they would look at our photos to be sure we did not have any pornography or photos they deem unacceptable. We had to fill in a declaration of how much money we have and they kept one form and we have to present the other when we depart. At the border they were not even interested in looking in our bags so we passed through in no time.

Patient John was able to grind the taxi driver down to a reasonable rate to drive us to Tashkent an hour and a half from the border. We ended up with a Tajikistan man joining us. He worked in China for a company making leather jackets and was heading for the airport in Tashkent.

It was instantly noticeable that Uzbekistan has a better economy than Tajikistan. There was a well constructed double lane road and lots of new and partly constructed two storey buildings along the side of the road. The shops were well made of baked brick and with modern pvc double glazed windows. The place was buzzing with builders.

The green plains between towns were mainly cotton plantations with food crops filling smaller spaces between the huge fields. Like all through Central Asia the locals had their melons, sweet corn and vegetables stacked up on the side of the road for sale. Often there would be a steel bed nearby where they would take a nap between sales or weeding and harvesting. Their animals would be tethered nearby eating available grass along the drains and road edges. We did pass some huge plastic growing houses with hydroponics and solar panels that looked very impressive.

John had to use the phone map to direct the driver around the old city roads to our bed and breakfast near the old bazaar of Chor-su. The place only had a small sign on the gate and no other signage on its huge steel door. We had booked a double room with air con and an ensuite but the owner informed us there had been some problem with the room and we would have to take a bed in the dorm room with three others for the night. That was fine by us and we shared with a young French English teacher and his 79 year old grandmother. They had been 40 days in Central Asia visiting every antique, silk, ceramic and carpet shop or factory that they could find. They had bought so much stuff that there were bags everywhere in the small shared room.

The B n B owner Mirzo entertaining us on his datur- two stringed traditional instrument, one evening.

The other person in the room was Anna from Italy and she was trying to get a transit visa to continue onto Tajikistan. She had been to the embassy the day we arrived in the city and was going back the next day. We have heard from several travellers about how difficult it is to get a visa for Turkmenistan. They offer 3 day or 5 day transit visas. If you want a longer stay you have to book a tour and have a guide. We found a Turkmen travel agency online who firstly issued us with a LOI which is a Letter of Invitation. We then had to book a tour with them as they were one of several government approved tour companies whom you could book through.  We booked with them and are are now going to the 5th Asian Indoor and Martial Arts Games in Ashgabat. Once the LOI was paid for we had to join Anna in the queue at the Turkmen embassy to pick up the visa. Ours was issued on the spot but Anna's was rejected as they are no longer issuing transit visas. Of course they want visitors to take a guide and a tour and they are promoting the games as being bigger than Beijing's opening and closing ceremonies.

             $100 US dollars in Uzbek somoni!

Uzbekistan has a dual currency or official and black market rates for Euro or US dollars. The B and B owner changed our dollars for 1: 7700 against the official rate of 1:4500. All accommodation must be paid in US dollars so all travel, food and other things we can pay in somoni. We later changed a hundred dollars at the market and got it all in 1000 somoni notes which took up a lot of space in our backpack. It reminded us of when we used the Bolivian black market to convert dollars to peso to buy airline tickets and they filled a big backpack!
 
Getting about the city has been easy on the metro. We had to buy a plastic token for each journey. Guards checked our bags on entering the subway and then again before entering the turnstile. Photos cannot be taken of the inside of the metro as they are deemed to be military installations. Each station has a different theme and they are decorated with glazed tiles and domed ceilings. The glazed tiles are works of art. The platforms are old but spotlessly clean. There is advertising on the walls of the escalators, but none on the platforms other than advertisements on a tv screen. One night we saw an Asian tourist take photos and in no time a guard and policeman arrived to get him to delete them. There are security cameras everywhere. The lines are not very far underground and at times we have felt the trains rattling under the footpaths as we walk above ground. We felt very old travelling the metro because every time we entered a carriage the locals, both men and women, would give up their seats for us.

One night we met a Couchsurfer called Yulduz. She responded to our public message to meet up. She is a 22 year old Uzbeki student learning Korean and playing the Korean drums in her spare time. We met at a Turkish restaurant that had three floors for dining and an outside garden area with its own children's playground. I doubt there is one like it in NZ. She also invited Jacky, an English woman who lives in the Gran Canaries. Jacky told us about her very interesting trip in a Russian icebreaker to the North Pole. They could not get off right at the pole as there were polar bears nearby.

Another night we met with Farruh who had invited us to stay with him. Unfortunately Uzbekistan has a rule that means all guests have to be registered and you cannot be registered in a private home. (Well, not easily). We caught up with him in a park and ate at a Russian restaurant. He recently returned from studying in the Uk where he did a masters. He is an English teacher. He also did some travelling for a year and a half and taught English in Mexico. He wants to travel more but has the responsibilities for his retired mum who has had a hip operation and for his younger sister who is studying, because his dad died in his 40s. We called him the Uzbek hippie. He teaches his students at a table in the restaurant even though he has been offered work at friend's schools, as he wants to do his own thing.


Farruh was most surprised at the changes to Tashkent in his year and a half overseas. There are streets of bars, cafes and classy European looking restaurants with outdoor seating and even water misters to cool the guests.




The lively Russian restaurant.


One day we went exploring and found a city tour bus by chance. It was not listed in the top 10 things to do in Tashkent or on posters anywhere. The upper deck of the bus had an area that was airconditioned and a part that was open. We toured all the main sites for two and a half hours stopping at some to walk around and take photos.

Amir Timur on his horse. A Muslim military leader, born in the 1320s. Under the Soviets he was a villain but the Uzbeks see him as a hero and honour him.

The city was hit by a huge earthquake in 1966, leaving 300,000 homeless.

This monument to the Russians who helped rebuild the city after the 1966 earthquake. 20% of the houses built were given to the Russian volunteers, much to the annoyance of the city's residents causing street brawls.

Our guesthouse was in the old city where there are still mud brick homes and narrow lanes.

This is part of the huge Chor-su bazaar just down the road from our B n B. It is also where we would

find money changers with their black plastic bags of money. The place is enormous where you can buy anything you need. We got caught in the frenzy of produce arriving in the early morning and stall holders bargaining and choosing their day's fruit and vegetables. Absolute chaos. When we returned late in the evening we would walk through stalls closed up covered with sheets and local stall holders asleep on the ground or on their trolleys, but the grounds would be swept and clean.

A monument and park with the Museum of the Victims of  Political Supression in memory of those who died under Stalin.

Part of the city is leafy with lots of parks and modern stores and called the European section while part is noticeably Russian era with tall blocks of residences.

The new white mosque where we saw a funeral taking place.

Independence Square/park was closed to the public as the structures were washed and the gardens replanted and watered. Sept 1st is when Uzbekistan celebrates 26 years of independence from Russia so there will be big parades.

Storks above the gate to Independence Park. We were unable to see the statues of the Crying Mother, honouring the 400,000 Uzbek soldiers killed in World War 11.

One day we went inside the TV tower to get a view of the city but being a military structure we were unable to take photos of the view.

We spent a hot day cooling off at Alisher Navoi National Park  - he was a poet from 1441-1501.

In the dome above his head is written ' Know all human kind: The greatest curse in enemity: The greatest blessing is Amity.'

The park is huge with canals, where we saw teen boys jumping off the bridges and racing each other, kids with their parents on the funfair rides, and courting couples in the shade of the conifers. The park houses the House of Representatives, the Wedding Palace and the Istiklol Palace. It is wonderful how much green space the city has.

The art gallery.

The brides love the Cinderella dresses and this one had a lot of trouble getting her dress into the waiting stretch limo.

We have enjoyed the restaurants and food in Tashkent. If only the other places in Central Asia could learn from their restaurants.

Khojand Tajikistan

The hotel owner organised a shared taxi to meet us at our hotel after breakfast which was really great. He insisted I sat in front with the driver. Our bags were tied to the roof rack on top and we headed out of town for about half and hour where we stopped at a farm house to pick up loads of sacks of produce and three passengers. We didn't get very far before one of them had motion sickness.

When our guide book was written the road was bad but we found it very smooth and fast. Rather than landslides and potholes these were the hazards.

We wound through some small villages in the valleys beside the road. If a spring ran down the rock then milk, kefir and soft drink bottles were lined up under the cool water to keep them chilled. If the pipes ran into the drain outside houses then women washed their dishes and clothes beside the drains on the edge of the road. It seemed odd to see someone fill up an electric jug from the pipe over the drain meaning they had electricity in the house but no running water.

We drove through a long curved tunnel and when we came out the other side the geography changed from mountains and valleys to plateau. The small hills had small bushes and dry grass while the plains had miles and miles of cotton plantations as well as other food crops.

The new bazaar building

Khojand is the richest and second largest city in Tajikistan. There is not much to see here either. We spent some time in the main square people watching. It was the only place in the whole of Central Asia where we saw drunks. A small group of drunk old men were arm wrestling on a bench not far from us.

Photographers with big cameras hounded any families or young couples to have their photos taken and within 20 minutes the poor quality prints were ready for pick up.

All sorts of electric children's vehicles were for hire and this guy looked very pleased with his choice of tank.

Bread seller
We watched a poor frazzled mum with her son who looked like he had some kind of syndrome. He  threw about three tantrums as she would not let him get on the motorbikes. He lay on the ground screaming, threw stones at his mum and ran off and helped himself to a bike. The business owner got him off and when he was distracted with a new little customer the boy started up another bike and headed off. A man sitting on the same bench as us felt sorry for the boy and paid for him to ride the bike. After the boy got off he jumped into the sidecar of a bike that another kid was riding and never gave up trying to find another way he could keep riding.

 

When in Dushanbe we met a Dutch woman who works in Tajikistan helping apricot growers. She gave us a contact in Khojand for a man who had rented her an apartment. We contacted the guy and met him when we arrived. He took us to an apartment near the bazaar. It is in an old Soviet era block. 

We are on the third floor and have a white balcony. We have managed to find a supermarket and organise food for ourselves. John has been able to take some antibiotics and recover from his diarrhoea.

Visited the citadel which was the site of Alexander the Great's original settlement. The fort's mud walls have eroded away in the background and the foreground shows the rebuilt walls housing the museum.

 

 The Cultural and Historic Museum.

  In the lower floor of the museum is a whole room dedicated to Alexander the Great. A local artist has used different coloured stone in the mosaic display showing Alexander's life. This scene shows him being instructed by Aristotle

Another scene shows him marrying a Tajikistan woman and tin the final scene he has died aged 33.









Surrounding the area is a lovely park which is popular for brides to visit for photographs.

 Outside the park was this statue and after some research I see we have one in Hamilton at the Hamilton gardens as well.

Next stop

Tashkent Uzbekistan.

Penjikent, Tajikistan

The hotel we chose in Penjakent was really great. The owner designed the larger rooms against his architect's advice so we were able to enjoy the space for our three day stay. The wi-fi was erratic but we could automatically switch from it to our phone data and run our netbook on our mobile hotspot. We have learnt a lot about this sort of technology over time.

There is not a lot to see in Penjikent but we needed somewhere to wait for our Uzbekistan visa entry date to click over. When we organised the visa early in the travels we did not know how much time we would need for each country.

 Somoni 

Fifteen  kms outside of Penjikent are the ruins of Sarazm, a 5500 year old site and one of the oldest city sites in Central Asia. It was the largest metallurgical center where turquoise was obtained from nearby sources. It later became an important agricultural region and both wheat and barley grains were discovered from the site. A farmer found a dagger sticking out of the ground in 1976 and a Russian archaeologist and a French team excavated it in 1977. As they are now only ruins, and we had seen the findings in the Dushanbe Museum, we decided not to bother to visit the UNESCO listed sight.

We visited the local Radaki Museum and were shown around the exhibits by a local woman who was told by her school that she needed the English speaking practise. She really just read out the signs already on the exhibits ' ceramic vessel', 'terracotta vessel'. However we were at least able to ask some questions about the exhibits.There were lots of replicas of the findings from Sarazm including some of the wall murals and a burial grave of a wealthy woman with her lapis beads and seashell bracelets. The woman stayed with us around the eight rooms and when we got back to reception the souvenir stall holders were hanging out for us to leave so they could go to lunch.

We ate at a cafe recommended by the hotel owner but the meals lacked variety. The beefsteak was a minced meat patty served with spaghetti, mashed potatoes, kibbled wheat and topped with an egg. Stroganof, was tenderly stewed bits of beef, served with exactly the same accompaniments and a lot of oil. John, the meat eater, went for the shish kebab options with raw onions. Unfortunately after our last meal here John ended up with terrible diarrhoea.

 Lenin

We walked around the city a couple of times visiting the parks and back streets. We saw a huge construction site and the sign said it would be a school and the drawings looked impressive. An old Soviet era fire engine rushed to a house fire one day while we were out and had it out in no time. The local stadium was being renovated near the river and looked a long way from finishing.

The new style of apartments alongside the Soviet era apartments.

We often see vehicles from Europe still with their country of origin advertising. This had a Tajik registration.

We often see locals putting their cash into these machines, as it is where they can pay for their telephone, internet, gas, electricity, loans and other expenses. They would never work at home as they would get stolen for the cash.

We took the time to catch up on correspondence, pay bills, and catch up on accommodation reviews and update the blog.

Next stop Khojand, Tajikistan

Iskander Kul and Fan Mountains,Tajikistan

Through our hotel in Dushanbe we organised a driver and car. Habib turned up at 8.30am in his Rav 4. First we had to pick up a permit to travel and this took quite some time as some of the roads under construction were closed and some of the offices were also closed.

As we headed north out of the city beside the Varzob river, we passed by many huge houses built into the rocks beside the river. Many of them had little outdoor seating areas overhanging the river with curtains or awnings for privacy and to block the sun. It seemed a popular feature of the riverside homes. The road was pretty narrow and winding to stop for photos.Towards the end of the river ribbon developments was the president's huge holiday complex with new buildings under construction.

We climbed up the Anzob Pass at 3372m and drove through many tunnels and solid concrete galleries protecting the road from falling rocks and scree.

Saw lots of honey trailers stacked high with bees hives on the side of the roads.

A Chinese company was rebuilding the road. Huge trucks passed us hauling coal from the mines in the hills.

Continued on the rough dusty road to Takfon and stopped at a roadside eatery for laagman (noodle soup). Habib has limited English so he took over all the discussions about food and we just chose the dishes we recognised.

We stopped briefly beside the river and saw a couple of policemen in a rubber raft trying to probe for a car that had ended up in the river. The locals drive far too fast at times.

The dusty road took us through little villages and orchards down to Iskander Kul lake. The policeman at the check point gave John a laminated sheet of charges to enter the lake area. John gave it to Habib who returned it to the policeman as it seemed to be his way of getting lunch money!

A Soviet era camping ground and cabins with a communal canteen were beside the lake where we saw tents and tourists and their bicycles camped.

Further around the lake was the President's dacha (holiday house) with its own helipad. Across from it was a small park and a clear water spring with several inlets.

 Habib spied a cup hanging from a tree branch so we sampled the cool sweet tasting water. Pipes ran from it under the road to the president's house.

We arrived at a homestay at Sarytag village a tiny rural place with one shop and about 20 houses. We had a room for eating and a bedroom. It looked like it had been used as a self contained batch with a small kitchen with modern appliances. These were all covered with dust covers and not in current use.

After the welcome tea we met Joel, from Begium but working in Luxembourg, who was on a 10 day trip with a guide and driver. He was suffering already from diarrhoea and had lost 5 kilos. He threw down some pills then had more that his guide had and set out eating and drinking beers from the villages only shop. He proudly told us he had been to all 45 European countries and travelled 103 countries in total. He was quite a character and in his early 50s.

Joel's guide informed us that Habib had divorced his first wife then remarried but also had a second wife on the go. He said he had children to all the women. We wondered how a driver could afford to look after so many people on his income.

There was an old mud brick building to house the sheep and goats beside our room and a group of men were demolishing the roof to rebuild it before winter. The dust was horrific and smelt stale. We decided to go for a walk while it was going on. There is not much to see or do in the village and we saw about three other homestay houses.

In the late afternoon we saw young girls chasing their cows home after grazing outside the village and an old man on a donkey dragging his reluctant billy goat home. He had his horns tied up and well anchored to the donkey. The goat never let up his stubbornness the whole way.

Dinner was served to us in our own place and Habib joined us. The mutton and vegetable stew was followed by fresh, peaches, grapes and apples from the family orchard.

In the morning we headed back around Iskander Kul where Habib lead  us up a trail to hike up to look down on Snake River. A local was fishing there and there were a couple of rubber rafts for paddlers. From here we continued to walk to a waterfall called Fann Niagara. You could hear the roar before you saw it. A steel platform had been built over the edge of the falls and Habib was a bit hesitant to get on it.

We continued north through a dusty narrow canyon to Ayni, a transport hub, and a lunch place for goat soup. There are loads of places to eat as there are so many huge trucks passing through.

Headed up the Zerafshan Valley through lots of irrigated cropping land, the most fertile we have seen so far. The new road from Sarvoda ended when we turned off to head up to Shing in the Fan m
Mountains and we were back in narrow dusty roads again. There are seven lakes on the Shing River and on our way to our next home stay we passed by four.

We rounded a corner near Nofin and Habib spotted our homestay owner Jumaboi sitting on an outcrop chatting with his friend. He piled in and we headed down the valley.

The home stay was on a sloping piece of land with the main house at the top and an outdoor kitchen. A new stone building was under construction nearby and below the vegetable garden was another long building stone building recently completed. We got a room in the old house. There was  mains electricity and solar power.

Around the edge of the property were four tea beds where groups would hang out and have their meals. Habib slept in ours at night. Jumaboi had an English menu and we could chose from three dishes what we wanted. His is a popular homestay place and a small group from German speaking European countries arrived just on dark. They were starting their tour here and then going onto the Pamirs.

After breakfast we were given a packed lunch and hiked along the road through the local villages from the fourth lake to the sixth lake. The local kids wave and say hello as we pass. The women stare and carry on washing clothes in the river and the bathing children play. It's not unlike every small village we have seen so far. Apricots brown up as they dry on the hot rocks or dusty roofs. All family members cut grass with their sickles and leaving bunches to dry up before gathering them up to carry home to store for the animals' winter feed.

In a curve on the main street and set out on plastic sheeting was a display of new shoes and clothing for sale and locals came and went with their purchases. The women love the long heavy velvet dresses with matching pants under. There also seems to be a trend for mothers and daughters to wear the same clothes.

We had our lunch beside the sixth lake on the grounds of a tourist camp with cabins. A woman called to us and when we said we just wanted to eat our lunch she said OK all in sign language. We watched the local birds but had trouble trying to photograph them as they were so fast. We had so much lunch of fried potatoes, tomatoes, cucumbers, apples and apricots that we gave all the leftovers to the woman and her large family and she was most grateful.

On the walk home we met a young Israeli couple heading up in the afternoon heat without any food or water and with no idea that their planned walk to the seventh lake would take 4 or 5 hours each way.

The weather was a pleasant 25  DegC in the late afternoon with a gentle breeze so all the dusty clothes got a wash and were dry after dinner. A large local family group had arrived while we were out and they had hung a whole sheep up from the tea bed and proceeded to eat their way through it with pots on the boil and the charcoal brazier smoking up a storm. They gave us grilled liver, salads, watermelon, cucumber in soured cream, and then our plov (rice) dinner arrived. They cleaned up, packed up and headed back to the city of Panjakent two hours away.

As they left a father and son from Belarus arrived with a local driver and guide. They ate some fish from the lake and then partied on into the night on their beer and cognac.

We drove out of the valley the next day to Panjikent where Habib took us to look at two hotels and we chose one to stay at.