solo travel Archives - Page 26 of 30

Colombia South America

To the Salt Mines

Yesterday was a full day. After another modest breakfast (seriously, i love this hostel, but the breakfasts are monastic in their simplicity), i walked to the closest Transmilenio line.

TheTransmilenio is Bogota’s answer to the subway. Apparently after about 20 years of doing plans and studies on constructing a subway to link the various barrios of the sprawling city, they decided to scarp that idea and instead built the Transmilenio: a network of busses that run on dedicated lanes as set times and stop at dedicated stops. Like a subway, you buy a ticket and enter through a turnstyle to enter the platforms. Like a subway, there are maps with routes listed. It is a really good system and is cheap (about 90c), but the difficult part is i found the routes on the maps very difficult to decipher. It must have taken me 20 minutes just to figure out which one to take. Anyway, they operate on the every man for himself philosophy, which i like; at the stops people push on and off with self-interested force. I much prefer this system to the preposterous, Canadian, queues of people saying, After you. No, after you every time they board a bus.

I road the bus to the Poral del Norte station and then hopped on the firt minibus with a sign that read ZIPA on it, as i was headed to Zipaquira – a town about an hour and a half away where underground in a salt mine is carved the world’s largest cathedral. That is something i had to see.

I was the last person on the bus when the driver pulled over next to a a bung of guys burning garbage next to an old shack with two horses and carts standing watch and told me to get off. I was not convinced that this was the quaint Zipaquira i had read about. There is something exhilarating about finding oneself somewhere, not knowing quite where or where to go, and not having a map or being able to speak the language. So i started walking. Slowly the streets improved and i eventually found myself at a large square presided over by a lovely, and quite old looking church. I saw a sign: Zipaquira. I was in the right place. I walked around there for a bit and had a cigar before setting off again to find the salt mine. It is a small town and this is its biggest attraction so it did not take long.

The salt mine was a working salt mine and in the 1930s the miners carves a small church at the bottom, but it became unsafe. In the 1990s, they decided to build a larger, newer cathedral underground, and it is enormous. There is a walkway with carvings along the way to marks Jesus’s walk with the cross, then there are various small chapels, and finally a huge cathedral with grand, high ceilings and an enormous cross. And it is all carved from salt. It is true. I licked the wall to check. Amazing. I took a tour in Spanish, but i met some nice Colombians from Florida so they translated the important bits.

After the cathedral tour i took the mining tour, which was pretty great and terrifying. We were outfitted with hard hats with lights and led into one of the many tunnels. The tour guide gave a bunch of instructions in Spanish (i had lost my Floridian friends, so i do not know what he said) and then he asked my name. I, being a fast walker, was at the front of the group. We were told to turn off our head lamps, put our hands on the shoulder of the person in front of us and i was to keep my left hand along the wall, as i was the leader and we walked into the pitch black darkness along rocky floors. Those who know me know i am afraid of the dark, so leading a group of people into a black mine was not easy – especially as the path twisted and the ceilings grew lower. I did not think i could do it at one point, but i did. For another part of thr journey, i was replaced as leader by a German guy and i was behind him. Again we were in the darkness, but this time as we walked, the ceiling grew lower and lower until we were crawling. It was fairly terrifying. I’ve seen enough mine-based horror films to know what happens underground (I’m looking at you My Bloody Valentine and The Descent). We also got to take pick axes and chip off large chunks of salt from the walls.

It was all very interesting and frightening.

After that i had a bite to eat with the German guy and we caught a bus back to Bogota (this is easy to do as they have signs and you can just flag them down anywhere).

I returned to the hostel after 5:00, had a rest in the hammock and then went for a cigar and a stroll in the rain. During this walk i was asked to go party with a couple groups of very young guys who only seemed to know the English words for party and beautiful. I politely declined their offers. I ended up at a super charming restaurant, sitting by a roaring fire, drinking vino calliente and eating a vegetarian crepe while listening to live music. It was perfect.

On my way back to the hostel around 10pm, i was stopped by some police on motorcycles who appeared to be concerned that i was out alone. At that point i was one block from the hostel though and i assured them I would be alright.

That was a long post. If you are still reading, thank you.
Today, i am off to market.
later.
d

Colombia South America

Hungry Vegetarian seeks Sustenance on Mountaintop

My first full day in Bogota started by a walk up Calle 7 to a Sunday flea market that i had read about. The walk was great, as the sun was shining, i had a cup of fresh mango and papaya slices and everyone was out on their bikes. On every Sunday, the main streets in Candelaria are closed to vehicular traffic and are taken over by cyclists, joggers and roller bladers. Every Sunday! (Take that, Portland.)

I stopped in to a couple of churches on the way, both of which were mid-mass. It is a bit like Portugal here in that every time i go into a cathedral there seems to be a mass underway. Seldom are they dormant.

The flea market was full of things that were not quite antiques, but junk that was fun to browse through. Lots of military accoutrements, old telephones, books, and toys. A man had a bucket of giant snails and was selling their snail slime as a skin care remedy. There i had a glass of lulo juice – lulo being a fruit native to the area. It is quite tart, but refreshing.

After the flea market i went to the Museo del Oro (free on sundays) and strolled through the impressive collection of gold artifacts and objects from Colombia history. It is a small museum, but impressive and worth a visit.

After the museum i walked for a ways up hill past vendors of grilled meats, blood sausage, corn and religious artifacts to the cable car station to go up to the top of the mountain to visit Monserrat, mountain with a white church perched atop. The church is visible from everywhere in the city and accessible by cable car, funicular, or a steep hike. The church, although very sacred is not that special, and quite plain. What was great was the view of the city and mountains and the stroll through the market, which was selling various crafts and souvenirs. (Nothing that i wanted to buy, mind you.) At that point it started to rain, so i ducked into a hall of food sellers, all cooking up the same dishes, rice and potatos or soup with chicken, blood sausage, pig intestines, and other identifiable meat bits. I was looking to see if there was anything vegetarian i could have when i was approached by the waitress who said something incomprehensible to me in Spanish. I do not know what she said but i blurted out two phrases i know, liked together: I am a vegetarian and i am hungry. She understood and made me a plate of rice, fired plantains, avocado slices, potatoes, beans, and hot peppers. It was huge and delicious and about $3.

After descending from Monserrat i continued to wander, through squares, and down a street of vendors aggressively selling (almost exclusively) pinata fillings, past particularly run down streets where the amount of garbage, dog feces and dilapidated buildings increased, to an area called the Macarena. It is a quasi-bohemian, trendy neighborhood, about 25 blocks or so north, with lots of international eateries and pubs. More upscale by far than Candalaria. I had a cigar on a patio and then hailed a taxi to take me another 50 or so blocks north to the area called Zona Rosa.

Zona Rosa is a fancy neighborhood. The streets are lined with large trees, it is clean and the sidewalks are not filled with dangerous holes. Here i found stores like Zara, Ferrigamo, and Hugo Boss, a movie theatre, a mall, a Hard Rock Cafe, and many fancy looking restaurants, bars and hotels. It feels a hundred years away from Caldelaria. It was pleasant to stroll around and has a couple of streets (Zona T) that are pedestrian and only lined with eateries. It was a little upsacle for my liking, but i sat down on the patio of a middle eastern restaurant and smoked a hookah and had hummus and Turkish coffee until it got too cold to sit outside at which point i hailed a taxi and went back to my hostel, where the kitchen was filled with guests cooking dinner. I was fairly tired after all my walking, so after a good lie down in the hammock i went to bed.

And let me take this opportunity too dispel another stupid warning i received from people and books before coming here. I was told to only take taxis after dark (which i have established as nonsense, as walking is fine), AND i was told never to hail them on the street but only to call for them. This posed a problem as i do not have a phone. But as it turns out everyone hails taxis on the street. They are yellow and licensed and use meters and have GPS and are quite safe. So there, fear mongerers!

Ok, i am off for another day of exploring. Thanks for checking on me.
d

Colombia South America

Candelaria by Night

Last night after my post, i met a couple of guys here at the hostel and went our for dinner. We walked several blocks through streets that were fairly quiet and then stumbled into areas that were filled with people – young people and families and children seemingly out on their own. It hardly seemed dangerous. I’m sure that at a certain point the crowds thin out and perhaps it then gets sketchy, but Calandaria after dark is not the threatening enclave that i had been warned about. Plus, there are police and private security guards on most corners, wearing uniforms and carrying machine guns, so it doesn’t feel unsafe. And it was so beautiful out; cool and breezy and quite pleasant.

I slept well in my bed. It is quite chilly at night, but i was cozy. It does feel a bit like camping as one must go outside and through the courtyard to reach the toilets and showers, but when the courtyards are so lovely, it seems ok.

I awoke this morning to a pounding headache – most likely a result of the altitude, but it is only temporary. Anyway, i had just had the rather modest breakfast provided at the hostel and i will be soon off exploring.

So far so good. I am exceedingly happy.
d

Colombia South America

Bogota – first impressions

I have arrived! I landed in Bogota this afternoon and made my way into the city by taxi. I am staying at the Anandamayi Hostel which is ridiculously beautiful. It is an old colonial house surrounding three courtyards filled with hammocks, little ponds, flowering trees, and hummingbird likd creatures. My room is whitewashed with rustic wood beams. There are shared bathrooms and a rustic kitchen for guests to cook and take breakfast. It appears to be run by young women who are very helpful but do not speak English. This is all very charming and i can’t wait to end the day in a hammock looking at the stars.

After settling in i went for a wander through the Caldalaria district (where my hostel is), which is the historic part of town.

I walked through the Bolivar plaza, which is surrounded by stately government buildings and filled with buskers, protesters, fruit sellers, and llamas. Llamas everywhere! They are probably just brough in for tourists to take photos of, but still: llamas! Not surprisingly i walked all afternoon through the streets of this neighborhood. The streets are rough, shabby, dirty and filled with dangerous holes, but they are also lined with beautifully colored colonial-style buildings with balconies and flowers; many of these buildings housing tiny cafes and bodegas. There are vendors everywhere selling candy, cigarettes, fruit, corn, and fresh juice. I have seen numerous groups of buskers playing what i can old call Colombian style salsa. It is terrific. One of the groups attracted a group of old men in suits who were salsa dancing solo for almost an hour for a crowd of onlookers. It was very entertaining.

I tried a few Colombian treats today. I went to a famous cafe called La Puerta Falsa and had Chocolate Completo, which is dark hot chocolate served with bread and butter and white cheese. You tear off pieces of the cheese and put it in the hot chocolate until it gets all melty and then you eat it with a spoon and dunk in the bread and butter. Marvelous. I can’t believe i have never had this before. I also tried some new fruit. No idea what it was but it was hard and fibrous and orange and served with honey. I didn’t care for it. For dinner i bought an arepa con queso from a street vendor cooking them over coals and had a chicha, which is a type of corn based beer. I don’t like beer, but this is quite different and i thought i should try it. It doesn´t taste anything like beer, but more like a thick fermented bready grog. It wasn´t bad, but i don´t think i would have it again. I smoked a lovely partagas torpedo on a street called the Funnel, which is a narrow, colorful street, filled with bars and cafes and young kids drinking beer and smoking in the street.

The city has so much amazing graffiti. Certainly some of it is just sloppy but much of it is amazing and ranges from whimsical to political. On the note of art, i visited the Botero museum today, which features, Botero’s bright, obese figures but also a good collection of art by Picasso, Ernst, etc. It was small but very impressive.

So far i have not encountered anyone who speaks ensligh, including the women who run the hostel, so i am relying on my rudimentary spanish, complemented by lots of smiling and nodding.

Ok, that is sort of a jumbled introduction, but i have only been here a half a day and am suffering from a combination of mild jet lag and mild altitude sickness, which has manifested itself in a headache. I think i might go out and see if the area is a dangerous as everyone suggested.

I will write again tomorrow. Sorry for the typos. i am not proof reading and it is a weird keyboard.
That is all for now.
Adios.
d

Colombia South America

Choosing Colombia

Recently realizing that I had some cash and some time – but not a lot of either – I decided to go somewhere. Having only 10 days from Vancouver rules out a lot of places, like Africa. There just isn’t enough time. And right now I’m not keen to go to Europe. It’s all starting to feel similar and my sense of wonder has faded, so it’s time to take a break. So I decided to look south. I had good luck with a quick jaunt to Ecuador a few years ago, so I thought why not go to Colombia?

I don’t really know why I picked it, except that I had done some reading on Colombia a while ago, exploring it as a possible destination. (The fact that i recently watched Romancing the Stone is probably just a coincidence.) I’ve never known much about Colombia aside from the usual: coffee, jungles, cocaine, FARC, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, and Botero. Not knowing a lot about a country is always a good reason to visit: you’re guaranteed to learn something and unlikely to be disappointed. Colombia looks awesome with everything from beaches to mountains, picturesque rural areas and modern cities. Only having a limited amount of time, I decided on Bogota and Cartagena. Typical, I know, but there must be reasons that people flock to these cities. They both look dynamic and lively, and filled with history, architecture, music, and markets, and of course, Cartagena also has tropical beaches with hammocks – perfect for lazy cigar smoking.

The thing that most people seem to associate with Colombia, aside from coffee and cocaine, seems to be violence. It is not a reputation that is undeserved, but apparently the levels of murder and kidnapping have been in decline. I’m not concerned about this at all, but everyone around me seems to be, telling me that I’m sure to be a victim of violent crime. (Thanks, well-wishers!) I keep reading that one must keep their wits about them, avoid certain areas at night, and keep an eye on their wallet, etc. But isn’t that true everywhere? I don’t know of a place where it would be advisable to wander drunk on a desolate street in a bad neighborhood, leaving your wallet slightly protruding from your back pocket. When i was in Ecuador, everyone told me Quito was dangerous, but I wandered after dark by myself without issue. Bogota may have some legitimate safety concerns, but I’ll see what it’s like when I arrive and I’ll behave accordingly. My favorite piece of travel advice I’ve read so far is “keep your shirt untucked and over your fanny pack”. Really? The assumption that the readers of this particular travel book wear fanny packs is a strong sign I’m reading the wrong book. Anyway, like i said, I’m not concerned and i look forward to reporting in a few weeks that everyone’s concerns were unnecessary. Either that or i’ll be kidnapped or mugged and then all of my friends can have a good “i told you so” laugh at my expense.

But I’m focused not on muggers, but on mangos, architecture, late night salsa bars, coffee, hammocks, colorful squares, smoking indoors, bustling & filthy markets, and crowded boats & buses to new destinations. I’m sure it will be amazing and i can’t wait.

Asia Uzbekistan

Uzbekistan Photos

Some pictures I omitted from earlier Uzbekistan posts.

Asia Uzbekistan

Miscellaneous Uzbek Trivia

I thought i would post a few random observations that have previously been absent from my posts – Just a few things i found interesting:

Gold Teeth: Many women and men (but mostly women) of abut middle age or older here have a few or all gold teeth. I have been told that it is fashionable. It is quite strange the first few times a women smiles (not at me – they seldom smile at me) and you see her gilded smile. I guess it isn’t any stranger than people in North America getting their perfectly healthy teeth capped. I tried to explain to one guy in Bukhara that in certain sub-cultures in North America, gold teeth are popular (i.e. rap culture), which he seemed to think was very funny.

Car Theft: Apparently care theft used to be a big problem in Uzbekistan (mainly in Tashkent), so the government changed the law so that now, the first time one gets caught stealing a car he gets 15 years in prison. The second time one gets caught stealing a car one gets either life in prison or death by firing squad. (One Uzbek told me life in prison and another told me execution, so i don’t know which is true.) Now car theft is virtually obsolete.

Questions: Every Uzbek with whom i speak asks very soon upon meeting how old i am, whether i am married and how many children i have. They cannot understand that i am single and childless and thing it is even funnier when i say that i want neither marriage or children. Everyone here seems to have many children very early in the twenties. Kids are everywhere, like rats.

Cigars: If you are coming to Uzbekistan and are a cigar smoker, bring enough for your trip, because they seem to be nonexistent in the country. My cigars have attracted a lot of attention (in Bukhara they even became the subject of rumor); had i brought more i could have given them away to the curious smoker.

Vegetarians: Like most countries, Uzbekistan is not a great place for vegetarians. Breakfasts are usually ok and then it is pretty much bread and cheese and fruit for the rest of the day. There are lots of yummy looking bready/samosa-y looking things for sale on the street, but they all contain meat. On the plus side, the bread and fruit are really very good. And the tea is excellent.

Tattoos: I have been told that if you want to see people in Uzbekistan with tattoos, you must visit the jails. Muslims, of course, are not supposed to get tattoos and that rule (unlike the drinking rule) seems to be well-respected. I have worn long sleeves on this trip, but sometimes a tattoo peeks out from my sleeve and it always gets questions. Many people have asked me what they are and asked to take pictures of them. One guy said, “You are like pop star” because i had so many tattoos. I have nopt gotten any negative reactions, just curiosity.

Poverty: There are definitely many poor people here, but i have seen no one sleeping on the street and very few people begging for money.

Animals: Aside from birds and working animals like donkeys, horses, goats and cows, i have seen very few. I saw four cats in Bukhara and i have seen a total of three dogs. I don’t know where they all are.

Safety: Other than my little run in with the police, i have felt perfectly safe the whole time i have been here, even at night and walking alone. I feel the need to mention this because i know many people have other ideas about the country.

Reading: If you are visiting Uzbekistan, bring your own reading material and do not count on finding more. I brought one book (the hilarious and appropriate “Absurdistan”, which i recommend) and then was fortunate enough to trade it for another English book with the girl i met on the train to Bukhara. I read that and then read the one English book a my Bukhara hotel. Now i am without reading material and cannot find more. Because most travelers here are not native English speakers, it is difficult to find books to pick up along the way. I am even down to my final NY Times crossword. It may be a long flight home.

Asia Uzbekistan

Uzbekistan: The Final Day

As it turns out, my crumby day yesterday did not last even one full day.

After my post, I returned to my hotel, the Gulnara Guesthouse. It is on the edge of the old town near the bustling Chorsu market. I cannot comment on the rooms, because, as I mentioned, my reservation was screwed up and the only room they had for me wasn’t really a room, just a cot and electric fan, but I must say that I am quite happy with the accommodations. The owners are friendly and the rooms are all located around a pleasant courtyard with a huge apple tree and laundry strung up everywhere.

It is definitely a backpackers’ place, with everyone there being young and traveling with large backpacks or by bicycle. Almost everyone there seems to be French, although the Japanese girl i met in Samarkand (and saw again in Bukhara) is staying there as well.

Anyway, after my post, I went to my room and spent about 4 hours napping and listening to repeats of Bill Maher and Ricky Gervais podcasts on my ipod, which cheered me up immensely. After that, I went for an evening walk and had tea and a cigar on a busy corner, where I was joined by some Uzbek construction worker with some basic English skills. He said he had only seen cigars “in films”. He asked to buy one from me but I had only one left, so i didn’t sell.

All in all, it was a pleasant end to what started out as a crumby day.

This morning, after breakfast, I walked up to the Khast Imom, which is the holiest part of Tashkent. It is a collections of newish mosques and mausoleums and a small museum that houses a massive and old copy of the Koran. Surrounding the buildings were some very well manicured park areas, which were also home to many large stork-like birds (like storks, but bigger and with more intimidating beaks).

I then walked past many large and largely unattractive apartment blocks to Navoi Park, which is a big park containing some odd Soviet structures and a man made lake with beach areas, little paddle boats and small fair area with rides. I wandered there for a while and had some ice-cream-like frozen substance. I have on this trip mastered the pronunciation of the Russian word for ice cream, which had previously eluded me.

Now I am just sort of pleasantly killing time. My flight is at 9:00pm, but i plan to get there nice and early, as I could not check in on-line. I plan to stroll through the market again, see if i can spend my remaining Sum and then I will probably just hang around in the courtyard of my hotel and smoke my final cigar.

I may post again either from Tashkent or Seoul, internet access permitting.
d

Asia Uzbekistan

Night Train to Tashkent

My last day in Bukhara was pretty relaxing. I just went for walks and read a book and went out for lunch at an Italian restaurant. I know, Italian food in Uzbekistan sounds like a bad idea, and i’m not sure that it was all that authentic, but the vegetarian pizza that i nibbled at (usually i would have gobbled it down, but i am still feeling ill), was actually ok. They best part though was sitting at a proper indoor restaurant and smoking a cigar; it’s just so civilized.

They evening came and i caught the 7:40 night train to Tashkent. It takes about 12 hours, so i had booked a bed in a sleeper car, each of which holds four. Unfortunately i shared my car with four men. There wasn’t anything wrong with them, but sleeping in close quarters with 4 strange men who don’t speak English doesn’t thrill me.

The beds were comfy and it was nice to lie down, but the air conditioning that was allegedly flowing failed to cool me down at all. I spent the whole time lying in a pool of my own sweat and praying that some sort of a breeze would come, but my bunk mates kept the door to the car and the window closed, so no breezes were to come. Plus, i had a terrible case of food poisoning and had to urgently get up often to use the disgusting bathroom. Needless to say, i got very little sleep.

On arriving in Tashkent, feeling relieved, i caught the metro to my new hostel. Unfortunately, as i waited for my car to arrive, a police man or solider (I can’t tell which are which) with a machine gun took me off the platform and to a small room with a table, two chairs and another uniformed, heavily armed officer waiting. I had a moment where I was certain I would be raped. Neither of them spoke English and i refused to speak any Russian, lest i accidentally implicate myself in some crime. They inspected my passport, visa, registration papers, my money and searched my bag. Of the questions they asked that i understood were “why are you in Uzbekistan?”, “Do you have family here or in Russia?”, “What is your job?”, “How long are you here?”, “Are you married?” and “Do you have any children”. But most of the questions were just nonsense Russian to me. I think they wanted a bribe, but they didn’t ask and i didn’t offer. Finally, after about an hour of questions in Russian (no matter how many times i said i only spoke English, they kept speaking to me in Russian), they let me go.

I now know that it wasn’t a big deal, but in the moment, i found it unnerving and upsetting. Being interrogated for no reason by two men in a language you don’t understand is not a good feeling. I felt like i was in a Kafka novel or a movie where an innocent girl traveling ends up in a foreign prison.

Then, i finally arrived at my hostel, where frankly, all i wanted was a shower, a nap, and an hour or so of watching the BBC, but i found out that they had lost my reservation and were fully booked. The only room i could get was a tiny room with a cot and a fan. No AC and a shared bathroom. I really wanted something better, but couldn’t bear the thought of trudging around town popping into hotels, so i took it. It is a cozy little place and my room, such as it is, is only about $6 or $7 dollars a night.

Tomorrow night i fly to Seoul.
On every trip i have one day where i feel tired and fed up. Today is that day. Tomorrow will be better.

Asia Uzbekistan

Yurt Sweet Yurt

After my last post, on my last night in Bukhara before going to the desert, I spent the evening until past midnight drinking tea and smoking peach shisha with the British girl i had met on the train coming here, as well as a couple from Switzerland. The evenings here are really perfect, weather-wise. Whoever suggested that I bring a jacket or sweater for the cool evenings was mistaken.

The next morning after breakfast, I was picked up my my driver who was to drive me to the Kyzilkum Desert (Kyzilkum means “red sands”, i believe). Normally they arrange these desert excursions for groups, but i was just one. I had hoped that others might have decided to go on the same night as me, but alas, I was alone.

So my driver, who did not any English, drove me for 3.5 hours into the desert. The drive was great. I was able to watch as the city of Bukhara and its outlying areas melted away, leaving only rural areas, then just occasional tiny towns, then just desert. As we drove, the cars began to be outnumbered by donkeys and carts. The desert was totally sandy in spots, and in others is was dotted with dry sage colored shrubberies. Often I would see a tribe of goats roaming without supervision, or a few lazy cows.

We stopped along the way at a couple of holy sights, but mostly we just drove in silence (silence except for the driver’s mix of 1990s dance and techno hits, that is).

Finally we arrived at the yurt camp. Twelves yurts arranged in a circle around a fire pit, plus a large dining yurt and a sort of a house (though ‘house’ seems like the wrong word – more of a ramshackle shack) where the family who runs the camp live. There were some outhouses and a couple of sinks that didn’t produce any water. It was all quite in the middle of nowhere. Shortly after arriving, i went on a walk and climbed to the top of the highest sand dune and do you know what I saw? An endless vista of sand dunes marked by the odd, solitary camel.

My yurt was delightful! Large and cozy with rugs on the floor and a little mattress (like a small, soft futon), a pillow and blanket. It was decorated with multi-colored textiles and decorative objects made of yarn hanging from the ceiling, like large mobiles. It stayed relatively cool in the yurt – cool compared with the 40 degrees outside. I had no difficulty napping or sleeping in it.

After resting for a while and enjoying a cigar, My drive took me about a half an hour away to a massive lake! What a surprise that was. The lake was huge and seemed to have a tide. The sand was beautifully soft and i waded out quite a ways into the water. We sat in a couple of old chairs left by the water and i dozed off for a while. After awaking, we stalked a tribe of goats who were at the lake to drink. Every time i got close to them though they ran off irritably.

After the lake we returned to the yurt camp, where my camel was waiting. I went off into the desert for about 2 hours just before sunset. It was lovely. I saw many long-tailed, hopping desert rats and a few rabbits. I also saw this one mud shack in the middle of nowhere with an old women outside. My camel was very docile and I found him reasonably comfortable (no more or less so than a horse).

After the camel there was dinner of vegetable stew, fresh vegetables, melons, and tea. After dinner I had another cigar and watched the stars come out. With no city lights or electricity to get in the way, the stars were magnificent. It was like being at a planetarium. I sat there until i remembered that i am afraid of the dark and then I went to bed.

I slept soundly and awoke when the sun started to slice through the gaps in my yurt’s roof.

After breakfast the next day, there was supposed to be more camel riding, but the camels had apparently disappeared during the night. I should point out that my driver, nor the host family spoke any English, so i didn’t do much talking during this overnight excursion. All i got regarding the lack of camels was “Nyet Kamel”. So we drove back to Bukhara.

On the way back, more desert scenery and silence and 1990s music. When Ice Ice Baby came on the driver and I both “sang” along – I did the verses and he the chorus. Vanilla Ice, bridger of cultural divides.

Yesterday afternoon after I scrubbed the sand and camel off of my skin (my clothes may just have to be burned when I return – I have basically been wearing the same outfit for 2 weeks in 40 degree weather), I spent the rest of the day smoking shisha and reading.

Today I have no plans. I am taking the 7:50pm overnight train back to Tashkent, which is supposed to take 11 hours, but I expect will take longer.

Bukhara has been amazing. It is definitely one of those places that is very easy to just hang around in. The yurt/camel thing was really good. I loved how desolate and quiet it was, but, not being a ‘camper’ by nature, one night was sufficient.