navigate:
Tuesday 2004-06-15 - Bukhara, Uzbekistan
Like coming home
A little virtual elastic band ties me to Uzbekistan and especially Bukhara. Last time, two years ago, I found coming here was like coming home. This time, my third in Bukhara, I wake up when we enter the city and it’s no different. When we get to the center of the old town, I recognize the women selling bread from my photographs: they’re still here! Only at the other side of the street, in the shade now. They have a surprise waiting for them.
Our hotel, “Lyabi House”, is quite close to the Laby Hauz complex with its centuries-old pond and trees and the three madrassahs. It’s one of the old Jewish merchant’s houses turned into a comfortable hotel, like many here in the old Jewish quarter. There are tapestries on the wall in each room, one of them in ours I immediately recognize as Turkmen. While I lay down to rest, Carla goes out to change money for both of us and brings back water, cola and cherry juice for me, to help bring back my inner plumbing under control. Later, we walk to Laby Hauz where we have a light meal at one of the restaurants near the pond: delicious and healthy yogurt for me!
Monday 2004-06-21 - Toktogul, Kyrgyzstan
An uncomfortable feeling
After breakfast in a separate building on the sanatorium grounds (also rented out for weddings and other occasions) our camping trip really starts. From Osh the “truck bus” takes us north along the new road around the corner of Uzbekistan that pushes into Kyrgyzstan here: the old main road went right through that bit but is no longer used as a main connection after the independence of the Central Asian states: two border crossings aren’t all that efficient for the mainly freight transport that goes along the road between Osh and the capital Bishkek. We make a short stop at Uzgen where there’s a complex with an old minaret from the middle of the 11th century, with beautiful brickwork decorations, and two tombs, still being restored. Then we go on. In this fertile area there’s a lot of agriculture: cotton, maize, onions, sunflowers and rice - and more that I don’t recognize from the truck.
A little later we turn north into the Naryn valley: the valley is narrow but the river is wide here thanks to a number of dams. The Toktogul basin, our goal for today, is one of the main reservoirs used for hydro-electric power — power from the dams is Kyrgyzstan’s major export product.
It had been dark for a while already, and now it starts to rain. That is probably the trigger: I suddenly start to feel very uncomfortable. This is landslide country and although with this light rain on still-dry ground there’s no real risk I can’t shake the feeling; the signs of past landslides are all around: big rubble cones right up to the road on one side, rubble cleared away by bulldozers on the other. It’s mainly the memories this brings back: we not only got stuck right here three years ago as a result of two landslides, I’ve seen my share of even bigger ones in Northern Pakistan, Tibet and Nepal as well, one covering several houses.
In spite of my discomfort I can’t help admiring the mountains which show a spectacular range of colors here, from gray-green to bright yellow, warm red and a dark, almost purple color, sometimes in striking combinations in the layers — all that contrasting with the bright blue-green color of the water of the Naryn here. Still, I don’t really cheer up until we leave the river valley and a while later reach our first camping spot on the southern shore of Lake Toktogul. We’re camping right on the stony beach (which turns out to be very bad for my hurt foot) and enjoy a beautiful sunset over the lake.
