Traveller's Tales: Uzbekistan

By Anne Rothwell

 

We stood in a line along the hilltop, cameras poised, waiting for the sun to set  -  like a row of jagged teeth in a giant’s mouth.  This was the best time of day, not only for photography, but for relief from the wearing heat of the day.  A large dragonfly flew by  -  an unexpected sight in this dry area.

Mission accomplished, we slithered down the sandy slope to our yurts below  -  home for tonight.  Entering through the carved wooden doors, looking incongruous set into the camel hair walls, the four of us flopped onto our mattresses and gazed round in the dim light at the wooden skeleton of the structure.

After a meal in the dining yurt, we went outside to find a large campfire surrounded by a circle of chairs.  In one, a local musician began to sing and play his stringed instrument.  This was an experience I’d never forget, but even so, exhausted, I went into the yurt, crawled into my sleeping bag and listened from there.

During the night, I had to get up twice and make my way to the toilets some distance away.  Grabbing  my torch and checking my shoes for scorpions or other unwelcome creatures, I made my way across, being careful not to step on the large shiny black beetles which were everywhere.  On the way back, looking up, what a glorious sight!  My little patch of earth seemed to be completely enveloped by the soft black night and a myriad of brilliant stars and constellations  -  not twinkling, but shining proudly forth.  No light, no sound, just nature in all her pristine glory.

he next morning, after a good Uzbek breakfast of bread, cheese, meat, boiled eggs, fruit and green tea, we set off with camels to walk to Aidarkul Lake 7 or 8 kilometers away.  Our group of 14 only had half that number of camels, so we walked halfway and rode halfway.  These were the 2-humped Bactrian camels, so very comfortable to sit on between the humps.  We loped along in the heat, my camel stopping at every thorny bush to snatch a mouthful, which he then crunched noisily, like me with a bag of crisps.

Then the lake came into view, a beautiful deep blue, mirroring the cloudless sky.  The water was clear and clean, not as warm as I’d expected as it wasn’t very deep, but cool and refreshing.  When we came out, invigorated, our ever resourceful guide, Dilshod, had a picnic lunch ready for us on a large table by the shore.  This was not a sandwich, crisps, kitkat kind of picnic, but a banquet of (safe) salads, rice, meat, vegetables, bread, nuts, raisins and more, accompanied by bottled water, sodas, beer or green tea.

The bus had arrived down a rough track to pick us up  -  so this is where the picnic had come from.  We walked to the bus, desert marmots scuttering out of our way, and set off for Samarkand and more lovely people and fabulous turquoise mosaic-faced buildings of the fabled Silk Road.

 

First published in VISA 117 (October 2014)