<b><u> If its Wednesday it must be Rishtan </b></u>

The Fergana Valley is also famous for its ceramics, and the city of Rishtan, where potters make up nearly a tenth of the population, is one of Uzbekistan's oldest and most celebrated ceramics centers. Known for their unique vibrant blue hues that range from cobalt to turquoise, Rishtan ceramics have been in high demand since the days of the Silk Road. This art is more than 800 years old passed down from father to son.

Rishtan is halfway between Kokand and Fergana and we plan to stop at the homes of two masters this morning - Alisher Nazirov and the very famous Rustam Usmanov. Rustam's name is mentioned in every guidebook, while I read about Alisher on the Uzbek Journeys website. Dinora lets us know as we head out that while she will take us to Alisher's workshop, she doesn't regard him very highly and his work doesn't hold a candle to Rustam's. All right then, expectations are set. We breeze through Alisher's workshop, watch a potter "throw" a bowl at the pedal operated wheel, see the pottery being dried and finally painted. As we leave, we take a look at the pieces for sale and are not terribly impressed. Dinora was right - although I think it helps to see the average pieces and check out prices before seeing the high quality work, so we have a good frame of reference.

Rustam’s ceramics studio is located just behind his house, next to a pretty courtyard with fruit trees, grape vines and lots of flowers. It is here, with the help of his son and team of apprentices that he produces some of the most beautiful ceramics in the Fergana Valley. We watch a young man shape a bowl and vase on the wheel using local red clay, there is so much care and precision involved even in this demo. The pieces are then dried for 4 days at room temperature before being dipped in a white clay mixture called angup and fired in a traditional kiln. A couple of painters nearby are painting intricate patterns on tiles (the patterns are transferred over by dabbing a powder filled pouch over the stencils), using natural pigments made from minerals and mountain plants and grasses. It takes about 25 hours to paint a large platter. Finally, the platter is glazed with a special kind of blue-green glaze called ishkor that has been used since the 10th century and the results are the lustrous, green and blue hued plates and bowls that we then drool over. His work is on display at several museums in Russia and Japan.

We also check out his small but lovely collection of vintage pottery. Since it's going to take us a while to pick out the pieces we want to buy, we decide to have lunch first. The Usmanovs offer lunch at their home and this can be included if you're visiting the studio. Rustam's wife and a few other women have been busy in the kitchen all morning and have already set the table in the courtyard while we've been wandering around the studio. The first course is several mezze - beets, kidney beans with cumin and onions, rolled and stuffed eggplant, sour milk and bread. This is followed by soup or shorva with beef and vegetables (I add a dollop of sour milk and fresh coriander to it). And, finally two types of layered manty stuffed with pumpkin and meat. The lunch is outstanding and what's wonderful is that it is a home cooked meal. The manty especially is so delicate and flavorful. For dessert, there is cookies and apples.

We agonize for several minutes over which pieces to buy and end up getting one large platter, two plates, two bowls and a mug for $125 - I consider that a bargain for the quality of workmanship. The platter was painted by Rustam himself. There is no bubble wrap in Uzbekistan, so the pottery is wrapped in thick paper. We carry it back in our hand baggage and are able to get it home safely. If you plan to buy a lot of pottery, carrying bubble wrap with you may be a good idea.

We then head to the tailor to pick up my dress and jacket. The dress only requires a minor alteration and the jacket is perfect. For anyone else reading this that may be interested in doing the same, the quality of the stitching and seams (nothing that's visible on the outside) is not the same as in the US, but for $20 it's totally worth it. While I try on each outfit and check them out in the mirror, a somewhat large crowd gathers outside the shop. I get big smiles, several thumbs up and nods of approval from them all. This has been a fun process.

Of course, now that I get a sense for what is possible, I have to go back to Fasliddin's home to buy more fabric. I pick out 2 more patterns for pencil skirts (that I will take to India to get stitched) and as I am leaving, he convinces me (not that he has to try very hard!) to buy a stunning pattern in the softest silk, for a dress. I have to run out of there before I do more damage to our wallets. I am not a big clothes shopper, but it's hard to find really good natural fabrics in the US anymore (so much of it is polyester), that I'm sure I'll treasure and wear these pieces for many years.

Before we go back to the hotel, I tell Dinora that I want to check out the Khonakhah mosque in Margilan. I had seen pictures of it in the guidebook with its two storied and pillared iwan with painted ceilings in the Fergana style. Unfortunately, the older structure is being torn down, and prayers are held in the newer building across from it. We are able to peep inside and check out the massive carved wooden ceiling. The Toron mosque close by would be a good alternative, but we didn't go there.

The Fergana valley was once home to over 300 mosques and several madrassas, but most all were either destroyed or closed by the Soviets or used as factories, prisons and store houses, as they attempted to suppress Islam and thwart the strong uprising in the valley. Which is why there isn't much left to see, sad really. After independence in '91, there was a period of re-Islamicisation of the country as a way to recover their old identity. But, that has changed, with Islam Karimov (who has been president and autocrat since independence) imposing restrictions not just on Islamist groups but on the practice of religion itself in the hopes that Uzbekistan doesn't become another hotbed of religious fundamentalism and militancy like the Middle East. The valley is more conservative and deeply religious compared to other parts of Uzbekistan, so the issue of fundamentalism is of particular concern here. Which explains why we haven't heard the haunting call to prayer that is ubiquitous in every other Muslim country. The other surprise is that we don't have to cover our heads and shoulders (like we did in Turkey and Morocco) when we enter a mosque, even though I do it out of respect.

Dinner tonight is at Cafe Bravo again. This time, we meet Aibek, the brother of the owner. He is a lawyer who lived in Southall when he was studying in London, and we have a long conversation with him about similarities between Hindi and Uzbek words and foods. He recommends a dish not on the menu, so we get that along with the usual angry chicken and salad. The dish translated into English simply means home style meat with potatoes, and the meat is very tender and flavorful and the thinly sliced potatoes cooked just right. We are so appreciative of it that he brings the chef over so we can thank her in person. This is our last night in Fergana so we linger again over some beers. Aibek brings over some kurut for us to try (they're dried salty yogurt balls and a popular Uzbek snack with beer), but it is too strong and stinky that we have to apologize and put it aside.

Tomorrow, we stop at the Kumtepa market near Margilan in the morning, before making our way back to Tashkent.

Hi thursday - Yes, we did eat quite well, as you will see in this most recent installment as well. And we enjoyed most of it. We were definitely happy with MIR and the guide Dinora. Though she was very chatty and talked a lot about her family (sometimes, you just want quiet time to take in the surroundings) which is the only constructive feedback I'll be passing along to MIR.

I hear you about downsizing. The one bedroom apartment is what keeps me in check. I limit our purchases to hand crafted items that the country is famous for, usually small pieces that will fit in our home and bring back fond memories of our trips and encounters with people. And hopefully, in some small way support these artisans and keep them in business. Turkey and Uzbekistan have been the only places where I've gone a little overboard perhaps. lol.

Just lovely. I'm into ceramics as well, and would have put a dent into my wallet at the studio. Glad you made it back with the pieces unharmed. Do they not offer shipping services?

Shipping is very expensive from Uzbekistan, tripplanner. We asked around. Carpet factories are the only ones that offered shipping services, as far as I know.

<b><u> The fantastic Kumtepa bazaar on the way back to Tashkent </b></u>

Ajit and I both love markets, whether food, animal or household goods, textiles and crafts. They are always vibrant, chaotic, a sensory overload and you feel immediately transported into the culture. On this trip, I organized our itinerary so that we would be able to catch the Thursday market at Kumpeta in Margilan (though Sundays are bigger) and the Sunday market at Urgut near Samarkand. We start early at 8 this morning so we can spend at least 2-3 hours at the market before driving back to Tashkent.

The bazaar is large and spread out. We start at the furniture section which is where Uzbek families purchase the many items of furniture that have to be presented as part of their daughter's dowry. Traditionally, they also buy 2-3 large chests and fill it with more gifts for the newly weds. Across from here are a row of chaikhanas getting ready for the lunch crowds. Next, we walk through the main market where there is stall after stall selling colorful bolts of Ikat fabric in every possible shade, though it's hard to tell from a distance which are handwoven and which machine made. They also sell regular clothes, embroidered jackets, traditional chapans for men and paranjas for women, sequined wedding dresses, veils, flamboyant hats and pretty head scarves. I try on a few hats to the delight of the women and girls around me. They clap when I add on a veil. I'm left with glitter all over my face and arms that takes me the entire day to get off. Since I spend so much time trying on the hats, I feel it's only fair that I buy one, so I get a canary yellow feathered hat for $4. I'm thinking I'll wear it to a friend's birthday party back in NYC.

Everyone wants to know where we're from, preferring to refer to India as Hindustan. The acknowledgment is almost always followed by the mentions of movie stars, more so the ones from the 60s-80s. It's the usual suspects but we are surprised to hear Mithun Chakravarthy mentioned! Though, he was quite the rock star in the 80s. Indians reading this will understand what I mean. On the other side of the wedding dress section is (of course) the babies section, where traditional handcrafted wooden cradles are sold, along with the accessories to collect baby pee. Very interesting. Then, there's back to school stuff - bags and uniforms.

There are still more stalls selling bolts of cotton, bedding and home goods. Dinora checks out a dinner set with a deer pattern looking for a piece to complete her set at home. The alleyways are very narrow, so we're dodging people and making sure we don't lose each other. In the more enclosed sections of the market, we can barely hear ourselves over the din - of women chatting with each other and laughing. Market day is about so much more than shopping, it's a chance to gather and meet old friends, share stories and gossip.

From here we walk a short distance to the fruit and vegetable market. Melons, melons everywhere - green, yellow and white. There is quite a bit of fresh vegetables as well as bread being sold out on the dusty grounds. We see a strange looking orange fruit and buy it, but don't know how to eat it. Nor does Dinora. Oh well. Women with weathered old faces and grinning gold teeth want their pictures taken. And shriek when they see themselves in the viewfinder. So do fathers and sons. And, mothers and daughters. Some are shy to start off with, but join in when they get curious. The covered market sells rice, nuts, spices, bread and other cooking ingredients. Then, there is the meat section with several butcher shops selling really fresh meat, including the very popular horse meat.

As we're walking through the market, an old man looking very troubled approaches me and talks to be in Uzbek. I acknowledge him but not understanding a word of what he is saying, I keep walking. He follows me, repeating a question over and over and looking so earnest that I call out to Dinora who is walking ahead and ask her to translate. Apparently, the man had read in a newspaper a while back that a popular Indian actor (Rajesh Khanna) had died and he just wanted to confirm if in fact that was true. I felt so bad telling him that he really was dead. The poor man. Kumtepa is also where we first hear locals call us Ishaani and Ranvir, though we have no idea who these people are at the time. Often times, we are also asked if we "speak Ruski?" with obvious disappointment when we say No, since it means they can't engage in much conversation with us.

We could have easily spent another hour here, but it's almost 11:30, so we have to pull ourselves away and make our way to Kokand for a quick lunch at a chaikhana. Ajit has mampar, a soup with meat topped with a fried egg while I have a dumpling soup, along with the usual salad, bread and tea. We also order a few Turkish style samsa with meat and save it for our ride. We say goodbye to Dinora here (she will be guiding a group of Italians later today) and begin our drive back to Tashkent. Dinora is nothing like what we expected an Uzbek woman outside of Tashkent to be (mostly due to our ignorance) - she's modern (while still traditional in some ways), wears short dresses and doesn't cover her hair, is outspoken (a fire cracker really), very opinionated, independent and confident. She's 28, met her husband in language school and married him soon after and has 2 young kids. Though she was sometimes a little too chatty for us, our experience with her is very refreshing.

It's been cloudy all morning, but on the drive back, it starts drizzling. The passport control checkpoint that was relatively quick on the way in, is excruciatingly slow on the way out. We wait in line for more than an hour, breathing in the toxic fumes from the trucks and cars around us. It's a relief when we make our way across, though traffic moves slowly for another hour along narrow one lane highways. Around this time, it starts raining heavily - the scenery with dark heavy clouds against the rain soaked craggy and golden mountains with the mist rolling down it revealing snow capped peaks is stunning. We relish every moment of it.

We get dropped off at Jahongir at around 5. It's been a long day and we have a train to catch tomorrow, so we take a shower, repack our suitcases so we can leave one behind at the B&B, and head out to the roadside restaurant to have dinner. Ajit starts feeling nauseous around this time (he thinks the fumes from the afternoon are the culprit). We order a laghman and chicken kebab, but Ajit only has a few slurps before he can't eat any more. We order a Pepsi for him to settle his stomach and get back to the room so he can go to sleep. His stomach is indeed upset and he wakes up a couple of times during the night. We always carry Imodium with us, so he takes it and drinks lots of water and hopes to feel better by the morning.

The markets sound amazing; I could probably spend the better part of a day there. And thanks for answering my question about shipping.

This is a fantastic TR. Following along, as the Silk Road is on my list. I love that you got to tour the country as quasi soap opera stars. Hope Ajit recovered quickly.

Very interesting. Thanks.

Thanks for reading along, crosscheck and Marija. I've been busy for a few days and had guests visiting over the weekend, so finally had a chance to continue writing this evening.

crosschek - Yes, Ajit did recover quickly. Thanks for asking.

tripplanner - Sounds like we are kindred spirits. You will love the markets and shopping.

Next segment follows.

<b><u> Onward to Samarkand...and our "Did you say the Registan is closed???" moment </b></u>

Our high speed train to Samarkand departs at 8am, and we have been advised to get to the station 45 minutes early, which means it's another early morning for us. Ajit is feeling better (phew!) especially after eating some bread and jam. He has another Imodium for the road and is back to normal by mid morning. Taking the metro to the station would have been the best option but given how Ajit is feeling, we ask Feruza to call us a taxi for $7. It's Jamaluddin who shows up at the gate so we catch him up on our travels so far as we drive the 15 minutes to the station. We are there very early and even with the multiple passport checks and bags being x-rayed, we end up waiting a half hour for the train to pull in.

The Afrosiyob train service between Tashkent and Samarkand started in 2011 and now runs daily taking 2 hours. The trains are Spanish Talgo, very comfortable and they offer a snack of croissant, juice and tea. You can also pay for a hot meal (eggs etc.). When we arrive in Samarkand, we head outside to find a taxi. We find one who agrees to 15k som, but once we sit inside, goes off to find another passenger. We get a little annoyed when he doesn't return in a few minutes so I go find him and tell him we need to leave. As we drive to Antica, he changes the radio station so we end up listening to Lionel Richie's Hello. We much preferred the Uzbek pop he had going on earlier. The newer parts of Samarkand look like any other mid sized city in Asia, but that all changes when we get dropped off in front of the old city gates next to the gorgeous Gur Emir mausoleum. We then drag our suitcases a short distance through a narrow uneven street to the massive carved wooden door hiding the eden that is Antica.

Aziza and Khubira are sisters who run the B&B out of their ancestral home that sits around a wonderfully lush courtyard with apple, pear and mulberry trees and many different flowers. Kubira greets us at the door and offers us tea, bread, a variety of jams including mulberry (that I haven't had since my childhood) and yummy zucchini fritters. As we sit under the gazebo covered in grape and pumpkin vines and decorated with vintage suzani, tassels and skull caps, I let out a deep sigh. This is just our kind of place and feels like home. Our room is in their 19th century home next door, on the second floor with a balcony. It's supposed to have a view of Gur Emir but we can barely see the dome through the trees and surrounding rooftops. The room is large and simple, the bed has a very thin mattress, and some of the bathroom tiles are cracked, but (for us) the decor with the vintage textiles and the serene courtyard more than makes up for it.

Samarkand, the fabled oasis at the edge of the Kyzyl Kum desert and called the Garden of the Soul and the Pearl of the Orient by its many admirers through the centuries, cemented its status as one of the greatest Silk Road cities and pinnacle of art, culture and architecture during Amir Timur's reign. Tamerlane chose Samarkand as his capital and over the next 35 years brought in renowned architects, masons and craftsmen, and the most prized materials from regions he conquered as far away as India, Iran, Iraq and Syria, to create his paradise. These countries also lent their poets, scholars and theologians to help create this oasis of culture.

Our first stop is the Registan, once declared the noblest public square in the world, and a ten minute walk away. As we approach the square, we notice that it is completely cordoned off and setup for some kind of event - there's a large dais, speakers and lights, stand for seating and lots of international flags flying. We understand from the police that a music festival (we later learn it's the Sharq International Music Festival) is going on and the Registan is closed for the day. We ask when it will open again and in typical developing country fashion, get a variety of answers from the cops - from it'll open tomorrow to it'll open on 2nd September (the day after we leave) to it'll open after 10 days. With each answer, my voice and questions get more desperate, but it's clear they don't know. This is our WTF?? moment of the trip, though Ajit appears to be much more zen about it. I'm so frustrated and can't believe we've come this far only to miss this most amazing sight - seeing it from the street is just not the same and who knows if or when we'll be back. Since there is no point standing around, we walk around to the back, find an entrance that's open and manage to get a little closer to the madrassas before we encounter the barricades again. We sit around and admire the fluted turquoise dome covered with mosaic tiles looking so elegant and before we wallow some more in our self pity, decide to make our way to the Bibi Khanum mosque.

We walk along pedestrian Tashkent street that's littered with boutiques and galleries and leads to the Bibi Khanum mosque. Along the way, we stop at a couple of shops and check out the suzanis on display. Buying some vintage suzanis is on my list of Samarkand to-dos, and looking at beautiful textiles never fails to make me happy. Next door I see a shop selling bags and clothes made with beautiful fabrics and I somehow think this is place that I had read about where the owner also tailors clothes. I don't know the name of the store, just that the owner's name is Nargis, so I ask for her and out comes a woman who I assume must be her. I take out Fasliddin's beautiful ikat and ask if she can make a dress for me. We go over the design in very basic English and she asks that I come for a fitting the next afternoon. Ok, I think I'm feeling better now.

Next door is the Tourist Information center so we stop to ask them about entry to the Registan. They're not entirely sure either but have heard that it'll open on the 1st. Since we leave for Bukhara at noon that day, this gives us a sliver of hope of maybe possibly seeing the Registan, and we'll take that for now. We ask if we can buy tickets to the festival and are told that they are usually reserved for VIPs (diplomats, government servants).

A few paces away is the Bibi Khanum - completed in 1404 after Timur's conquest and plunder of Delhi and named after his favorite wife, the mosque was built by thousands of slave artisans using Indian marble transported over land and mountains by 95 elephants. The mosque fell into disrepair over the centuries due to overly ambitious construction techniques, earthquakes as well as Bukharan emirs and Soviet officers who stripped it down for building materials and metal, and what we see now is mostly a modern reconstruction. Despite this, it is still impressive and a reminder that it must have been a mosque without parallel in grandeur as Timur envisioned it to be. In the center of the courtyard is a massive marble Koran stand that once held the 7th century Osman Koran, one of the oldest in the world. We get a chance a see it in Tashkent later on in our trip.

For lunch, we eat at a restaurant right next to the mosque. As we sit on a topchan with a view of the mosque and stretch our legs, I notice a store that's part of the cafe with the name Anargis Art Studio. My first thought is - Dang, this is the shop that I was looking for! Followed quickly by - Uh oh, I wonder who the tailor is that I dropped off my lovely fabric with. And I hope she doesn't mess it up! Anyway, it's too late and after the morning we've had, I'm ready to just chill out and enjoy a good meal. We order tea, bread, beetroot salad with sour yogurt, noodle soup and dumpling soup. The food is flavorful and light, but the restaurant definitely caters more to a western palate. After lunch, we step into the store and meet Nargis (owner and designer), who's delightful, speaks good English and patiently shows us lots of suzanis from her collection. She has suzani scraps as well as pieces in a variety of colors and styles - Samarkand, Nurata, Sakhrisabz, Bukhara and Fergana. The pomogranate is Bukahara style, teapot is Urgut and so on. She also tailors dresses, kaftans and jackets from silk ikat (bought from Fasliddin in Margilan) as well as vintage block print fabrics. Her designs are fabulous and tailoring quality very high - with prices to match. Reversible hand quilted jackets made with silk ikat are $200-$550, depending on the length. She travels to the US every year for the Santa Fe folk art festival as well as NY gift shows. Side note - In fact, Rasuljon, Fasliddin and Rustam have all participated in the Santa Fe festival. We take pictures of the suzanis and note down prices, so we are well prepared before we head to the Urgut Sunday bazaar.

On the other side of the mosque is the Samarkand's main bazaar. This is a covered market and we walk around the stalls selling nuts, lots of colorful local sweets and halva, fruits, vegetables and barrows of non bread in varying patterns. Before leaving, we pick up some sesame halva. It's a good thing we did. Our last stop for the day is the Gur Emir next to our B&B. As we walk back hoping to catch the mausoleum during the golden hour, we realize that entire streets have now been blocked off and what would have been a 10 minute stroll ends up being an almost half hour long walk winding through old Samarkand's residential neighborhoods (that remind us so much of India). We are miffed and our feet are a little tired!

We are thankful to eventually get to the Gur Emir while there's still light. The delicate tile work and stalactite carvings in the portal and the imposing heavily ribbed blue dome rising 32m above the mausoleum are breathtaking. Just as spectacular is the mausoleum interior painted royal blue and gold with carved niches and onyx tiles, housing 7 tombstones including those of Timur, Timur's sons and his grandson Ulug Beg. Gur Emir would be the precursor for the Mughal era tombs in India including Humayun's tomb and Taj Mahal. Around 7, the security guards ask us to leave indicating that the complex is being shut down for the President's visit. Ah, it all makes sense now - the road closures and the extra security in the evening. Karimov is here for the festival.

Back at Antica, we talk to Khubira about the Registan being closed. Our venting only elicits a "What can you do?" shrug from her. In the earlier years of the festival, locals and tourists could get tickets and enjoy the festival, but these days it's only limited to VIP guests, which is sad. We also learn that fearing his own assassination, Karimov always keeps everyone guessing about his visit to the festival, so even the locals didn't know until this evening that he would be in Samarkand today. Such is the life of an autocrat!

It's pleasant, so we sit in the courtyard and chat with another guest Naima, from France. She tells us that it may be possible to show our passports and get in to the festival tomorrow. She heard this from one of the cops at the Registan. Ok, we shall give that a try. If it works, score 1 for tourists, 0 for locals. As we talk about having dinner and realize that it's going to be hard to get anywhere tonight given so many roads are closed, Naima offers us half a non that she had saved from dinner and we accept with many thanks. Back in our rooms, we sit in the balcony, eat our bread and halva (it's a great combination btw) and listen to the faint sounds of music from the festival. By the time the fireworks go off, we are already in bed and almost asleep, wondering what tomorrow shall bring.

I'm very interested in your comments about textiles. I have lots of ikat from SE Asia.

Your account of Samarkand, between the bazaar and the Islamic architecture, is really capturing my attention. Hope you eventually had the opportunity to see the Registan up close. It's one of the view images I have in my mind when I think of Uzbekistan.

Tripplanner - I'll keep you guessing for a few more days. ;-) Have been at a conference so hope to get back to writing tomorrow.

Kathie - The Uzbek ikat patterns are different from the SE Asian Ikats and from the Ikats in India. I'll post pictures of all the fabrics as soon as I can get to them.

In the meantime, for those of you interested in Ikats and are curious about the dress I got stitched in Margilan, I wore it to the conference today.

https://culturesconnected.smugmug.co...om/i-KqSg9f3/A

Gorgeous dress. I like the design and the colors very much.

I would have been devastated to arrive in Samarkand and think I couldn't see the Registan! Did MIR know your dates for Samarkand? Sounds like this festival is an annual event they should have known about.

Seems the trains have greatly improved since I looked at taking them in 2004!

thursday - MIR kinda knew the dates since I had to provide the itinerary to get the LOI, but they may not have realized it since they weren't planning the entire trip.

Advantour's website mentions the Sharq festival but makes no mention of the Registan being closed.

The festival happens every two years so if you are travelling in the August/September timeframe, I would highly recommend checking the Sharq website to make sure you don't visit Samarkand from about 10 days before the festival to a couple of days after, giving them time to clean up.

<b><u> A full day of sights in Samarkand ending with a magical evening </b></u>

I do miss the breakfasts at Antica, they had some of the best food and variety of offerings. This morning, we have kompot (sweetened fruit juice), tea, bread, jams, rice cooked in milk, cutlet with cottage cheese and potato, zucchini pancakes and blackberry cake. Just delicious.

We exchange $100 getting the same rate we did at Jahongir and ask Khubira to book a car and driver for us to go to the Sunday bazaar in Urgut tomorrow. Khubira suggests we also visit a park called Platan as well as a popular pilgrimage area for the locals nearby. We plan to leave at 8am and get back by 3. This will cost us $45. You can also take a share taxi from the main Registan street (you will see several drivers standing by the roadside yelling Urgut as you walk by) which would be a much cheaper alternative. Antica offers home cooked dinners for $10pp, and given how amazing their breakfast is, we sign up for dinner tonight. It's crazy that we've barely finished our breakfast and are already dreaming of dinner.

We want to photograph the Bibi Khanum in the morning light, so that's where we head first. But, not before we try our luck at the Registan - unfortunately, it's still closed and when we enquire about festival tickets, are told that there are none available. Deep breath. Walking on.
After the Bibi Khanum, we spend the rest of the morning walking through the old town including the Jewish neighborhoods and ending up at the Samarkand Bukhara Silk Carpet factory. We have no interest in buying a silk carpet but are keen to check out the carpet making process and their collection of suzanis. Samarkand's old town is curiously hidden behind recently constructed walls and gates just off of Tashkent street - while we love the architecture in Samarkand, this separation of the old town from the main boulevards that connect the historical sights makes it feel less organic to us. The sights somehow feel disconnected from the city itself and its people. The old town is a series of narrow alleyways flanked by simple mud brick homes. We walk past a pretty mosque, Samarkand's main synagogue built in the 1890s by a millionaire trader, a hammam and a school. Of the 20 to 30,000 Jewish people that lived here, only about 40 families remain that worship at this synagogue.

I'm wearing an Indian outfit today (I don't get a chance to wear them as much in the US so this is a treat for me, I have a few more pieces packed for this trip), and realize that this gets a lot more attention from the locals, especially women and girls. It's a great way to make conversation and chat with people who might otherwise not approach us. It's hot and very bright so it's a relief to finally reach the carpet factory and head into the cool indoors. Zainab, the owner, is an exile from Afghanistan, it was her father who setup the factory in 1992. They are known for very good working conditions and pay for their (mostly women) employees and have had dignitaries like Kofi Annan and Hilary Clinton visit. Using natural colors and vegetable dyes only, they produce gorgeous carpets of a very high level of quality. Usually, two girls work each loom - the patience and focus required to knot the silk is astounding. Zainab is lovely and willing to share her passion and knowledge of carpet weaving with us so we really enjoy our time with her. And, there is absolutely no pressure to buy. She tells us about the time a couple from Seattle placed an order for 400 carpets! Wowza. We also check out the suzanis they have for sale, but most of them are new and don't appeal to us. You can read more about Zainab's family and the factory here - http://www.uzbekjourneys.com/2014/08...c-carpets.html

We walk back the same way and end up at Anargis again for lunch. There are limited eating options near the main sights, so that's something to consider as you plan your day. We try a couple of other soups on their menu - noodle and vegetable with meat. After lunch, I check out suzanis in the shop across the street. The have a nice selection so I take pictures for now. Next, we walk north and across the busy road to the Khazret Khyzr Mosque - its richly painted wooden iwan is just so elegant and a must see in our opinion. If you're offered entry to the minaret, it's best to decline. Not worth the 5000 som pp that we paid. Our plan is to go to the Shah-i-Zinda necropolis when the afternoon light is softer and we have a couple of hours to kill. So, we walk to the Ulug Beg observatory which is about 30 minutes away. A funny thing happens as we walk along this main road, we're the only ones walking as cars whiz by us in both directions. All of a sudden, we hear a car screech to a halt behind us, reverse up to us and come to a stop. There are 3 men and a woman who jump out and ask to take pictures with us. So, here we are, with the car stopped along a busy road, posing for multiple pictures with this group - all of us together, just the boys, just the girls, just the girl and Ajit (she pushes me out of the way and hugs Ajit). They have a blast and after the initial awkwardness, we relax and have fun with the experience. We laugh all the way to the observatory and Ajit can't stop smiling - his ego having been stroked and all.

The walk is fairly uninteresting, we pass by the Afrosiob museum (that recounts Samarkand's ancient history), a quiet park next to a canal, and a wedding party celebration along the way. Ulug Beg was Timur's grandson and he built this observatory in the 15th century, preferring the arts, sciences and astronomy to battle and mayhem. With his team of experts, he plotted the coordinates of stars, measured the year to within a minute of modern calculations and demonstrated his observatory was without equal in the world. Unfortunately for him, his own son had him killed and his observatory was razed to the ground. All that remains is the underground section of a sextant (a meridian arc, the largest in the world) with a small museum alongside that details Ulug Beg's life and crowning achievements, including several references to the fact that one of the craters on the moon was named after him. Quick note - you have to pay for cameras here, so we opted to pay for only one and didn't end up taking any pictures inside.

From here, we take a taxi to the Shah-i-Zinda complex for 4k som. This vast complex of mausoleums dating back to 676 (when a cousin of Mohammed arrived to convert the Zoroastrian people to Islam), puts forth an incredible display of artistry and creative wealth in the form of ceramic art, mosaics, murals, carvings and tile work that takes our breath away. No two mausoleums are the same. It is simply magical. Even better, the modest size of the buildings here when compared to the other grandiose monuments in town, make this a more intimate experience. We easily spend a couple of hours here - the details are amazing and we discover something new every time we look.

My fitting at the tailor is at 5:30, so that's our next stop. We discuss some alterations and she promises to have the dress ready tomorrow afternoon. We check in at the Tourist Information office and they confirm that we should be able to get in to the festival today after 6 by showing our passports. Yay! It's almost 6 so we walk as quickly as we can to the Registan. When I show the police our passports, he initially shakes his head "No". I have to tell him that we were just at the tourist information office and they told us we could go in. After repeating this a couple more times, he relents and waves us inside. Phew. It's actually not fair at all as we see many locals being turned away or standing by the road listening to the music. This evening's show has just started and we take a seat (incidentally, there are several empty seats). The madrassas are lit with bright lights changing color from pinks and blues to purples and the setting sun casts a wonderful glow, making this a dramatic backdrop for the music. We watch the Italian (disappointing), Lithuanian (very fun folk music), New Zealand Maori (interesting, but a Maori rendition of Lorde's Royals feels weird) and Mongolian (just wonderful) quartets, each performing for about 15 minutes. The soulful chanting of the Mongolian group is just perfect in this magical setting. The sting from the Registan being closed hasn't gone away, but we feel better having been able to experience this.

Since we have to be back at the Antica for dinner, we reluctantly leave at 7 and make our way back. We had hoped to hear the Indian musicians, but that was not to be. As we leave, we hear them introduce the group from Pakistan. Drat! Our dinner in the courtyard is fantastic - we start with beers and a selection of salads consisting of roasted zucchini with raw garlic, beetroot, fried eggplant with a tomato sauce and a dip of roasted eggplant and red peppers (the latter, according to Khubira, is what every woman made during the Soviet rule since they lacked produce so often). The next course is a vegetable soup with chickpeas and meatballs. And, finally, when we're almost full, Khubira brings over a large platter of plov with lamb and yellow carrots. OMG! It's so flavorful but we can barely finish half the plate. We almost ask for a doggy bag. As my grandmother used to joke "We are fully fed up!". And so, stuffed, happy and tired, we stumble back to our room.

I've not been good about finishing up this trip report. Work, travel and other projects have kept me busy. We have some more travel coming up in December and January but promise to finish this up early in the new year.

Anyway, one of the projects was to upholster a vintage chair with some of the vintage suzani that I picked up in Urgut while in Samarkand. Here is a link to the finished product (Chairloom is the upholstery shop that worked on this project).
https://www.instagram.com/p/-tdsJyivI2/

Ajit is working on his pictures so hope to have that soon as well.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all!

How fun is that chair! Looking forward to more of your report - whenever you get to it. Happy holidays to you too.

Thanks tripplanner.

Here are the pictures from our first day in Tashkent:
https://culturesconnected.smugmug.co...ar/i-B6GG46R/A