Category: 旅のエッセイ_Travel Essay

While Samarkand is Uzbekistan’s most famous ancient city, Bukhara and Khiva are other renowned historic cities in the country. By planning an itinerary with efficiency in mind, it is possible to visit all three cities on a nine-day trip from Japan. However, since my trip was focused on photography, I felt that visiting two cities was the max. Samarkand was a must, and after some consideration, I chose to go to Bukhara last year.

A major reason I decided to visit Uzbekistan again this year, making it two years in a row, was my desire to see Khiva. Khiva still retains its old town with city walls called Itchan Kala, a World Heritage Site. I looked for a hotel near the center of the old town, but places that looked promising were already booked while others were rather underwhelming such as cramped rooms. In the end, I booked a hotel located a short distance from the center.

Judging from hotel booking sites, the hotel looked quite nice; yet no credit card was required to guarantee the reservation. Honestly, this made me uneasy. I encountered a situation where advance payment via wire transfer was demanded. I also recalled an incident last year that a hotel I had booked in Samarkand had ceased business. Even though I suspected it would cost more than a ride-hailing app, I requested a transfer to the hotel just to let them know that I would be there as per booking. They might have trusted me, but I did not quite share same level of trust.

After the trouble getting on the sleeper train, I arrived at the hotel in Khiva. I had imagined that the city walls called Itchan Kala was a part of Khiva old town; but in reality, the Itchan Kala was the old town itself. Consequently, the hotel “located a short distance from the center” turned out to be a hotel located outside of the old town. I noticed them as I arrived, and to be honest, they made an unexpected surprise. Yet, the city gate was about a minute’s walk away. I dropped off my luggage and headed out to explore the Itchan Kala.

Entering the Itchan Kala requires passing through the city gates. The gates nowadays have ticket collectors instead of gatekeepers, saying that there is an admission fee just going into the Itchan Kala. Again, this was an unexpected surprise. From the time I had missed the train at Samarkand Station, the day was filled with unexpected surprises. They were clear cases of my own insufficient research; I had to start by checking the price list at the ticket booth.

There were few types of tickets available, that were a bit complicated. If I bought the ticket that included museum admission, I would have access to the Itchan Kala for two days. Since I planned to stay in Khiva for three nights, I decided to buy a simple entry ticket to the Itchan Kala on the first day, then to buy the two-day ticket on the following day.

Stepping inside the Itchan Kala, I found a remarkably well-preserved old town that felt like a completely different world. While inside the walled city of Dubrovnik had also felt otherworldly, Khiva surpassed Dubrovnik. As my first day ticket did not cover museum entry, I spent the time wandering the streets and relaxing at an outdoor cafe with a view of beautiful minaret. Clouds rolled and I could hear distant thunder; I was able to enjoy even more atmospheric evening.

In the following morning, I bought a museum-access ticket and began sightseeing. This ticket was a bit complicated too. While the ticket allows unlimited entry to the Itchan Kala for two days, if I wish to re-visit even one museum, I have to buy another two-day ticket. Furthermore, religious sites require separate fees. Since museums are originally mosques and madrasas (Islamic school), it is not always clear which places incur extra charges unless carefully examine a map.

Unfortunately, Juma Mosque, the site I most wanted to see, was under preservation work; I was only able to see half of it. Despite its name, Juma Mosque is classified as a museum rather than a mosque.

Considering I can visit religious sites multiple times by paying entrance fees, it is best to pick museums in advance and visit them in the morning when there are fewer tourists. After all, visiting Itchan Kala requires sufficient research. I was not supposed to be standing at the city gate with unexpected surprises after arriving at Khiva.

While strolling through the Itchan Kala, I happened to pass by a woodworking workshop. Uzbek mosques make extensive use of wooden pillars and doors, all featuring intricate carvings. I usually avoid these kinds of workshops because, even if admission is free, it feels awkward to leave empty-handed. However, since I was deeply impressed by Bolo Haouz Mosque in Bukhara last year, I decided to step inside. I would surely not end up being pressured into buying a wooden pillar.

A craftsman worked hard. I was allowed to take photos and see the finished pillars and doors up close. Before leaving, I checked out the shop area. There were elaborate carvings featuring Islamic patterns that I wanted to buy a piece; but there was no one around and no pressure to make a purchase. It is a hassle to shake off sellers at workshops where I am not interested; yet when I actually want to buy something, there is no seller around. I asked the craftsman to call over his master.

While Khiva is a city where is somewhat difficult to combine with Samarkand visit, I was quite satisfied. Although I had an unnecessary hard time getting Khiva, it was certainly worth the effort. Since there is an airport in a nearby town, taking a domestic flight to/from Tashkent for one leg of the journey allows a reasonably efficient travel itinerary even in my style.

On this trip, I made multiple unexpected surprises due to lack of research. Therefore, it is possible that there still are hidden insufficient research, I have managed to visit all cities in Uzbekistan that I can think of now. With these, I will not need to go to Uzbekistan three years in a row. Well… maybe.

I have my air as a seasoned traveler; nonetheless I am not fond of sleeper trains.

After taking a Japan National Railway (JNR)’s Blue Train (regular sleeper train JNR/JR used to operate) from Hiroshima to Tokyo back in elementary school days, I had not taken a sleeper train until I boarded Amtrak as an adult. Even though I booked a private cabin for the journey from Seattle to San Francisco, I did not enjoy being stuck in a small cabin for so long time besides the bathroom facilities were shared. For subsequent long-distance trips, unless day-time train was an option, I would do everything to find flights instead. As for the sleeper trains, Orient Express was the only exception I took, but it should be considered as a historic experience rather than a mere mode of transport.

I have suffered from insomnia with a bit of claustrophobia. On top, I snore loudly and toss around in bed. Given all this, not just a small private cabin, but also a four-person compartment with bunk beds common in many countries also appears to be a difficult place for me. Needless to say, a six-person compartment with three-tier bunks is completely out of the question.

However, the inevitable moment had finally come. To get from Samarkand to Khiva, another World Heritage Site in Uzbekistan, the best option is to take a train. There were a few trains per day running from Tashkent to Khiva via Samarkand and Bukhara, but they were all overnight services. It may be romantic to say taking a train along the Silk Road, but the reality is that there was no other efficient choice. Since I have such a strong aversion to sleeper trains, I wanted to be thoroughly prepared before boarding.

Reading through various websites, I found many mentions the difficulties involved in using Uzbekistan Railways. Such issues include a lack of platform information even at major stations, and station announcements made only in Uzbek. Delays are highly likely; if boarding a train at an intermediate station, the exact departure time is often unknown. Yet, I managed to make it work during the trip to Uzbekistan last year. As long as I secure my tickets properly, I should be able to manage this year too.

On my final day in Samarkand, I headed to Shahrisabz first thing in the morning. Afterward, I spent a packed day seeing the sunset at Registan Square, night view of Shah-i-Zinda, and then returning to Registan Square for the light show and night scenery. I checked out the hotel before 1:00 a.m. and headed to the station.

When I arrived at Samarkand Station, a train had already stopped at the platform. I checked with the ticket gate staff and learned it was the earlier train bound for Khiva. I spent the time taking photos of the late-night station.

Despite the late hour, the waiting room at Samarkand Station was crowded, due to many overnight trains in and out of the station. I figured I could just follow the crowd when the time came to move. I bought a coffee and a hot dog to kill time till my train would arrive.

After passengers for a Tashkent train had moved, a quiet spell settled in. Despite the coffee I just had, I was sleepy that drifting off. It was a long day after all.

With time to spare, I went out to the platform around 2:00 a.m. to shake off the drowsiness, and saw a train was stopped there. I felt foggy and watched the train leaving, only realizing afterward that it was the train heading toward Khiva.

I rushed back to the gate staff, who told me that my train just had departed right on time. I was overcome with despair. I tried to think of alternatives, but the Uzbekistan Railways website was down for maintenance. In any case, waiting until the following night’s train seemed a waste of time; perhaps I should go to Tashkent and catch a domestic flight instead.

Just as I was literally tearing my hair out, the station staff whom I had spoken to waved at me. We communicated via an app, and it turned out there was another train to Khiva at 3:00 a.m.

I was taken to the ticket counter; the first step was getting a refund for the tickets for the train I had missed. What I really wanted, however, was tickets for the next train. After refund process was completed, the ticketing agent informed me that there was only one ticket available to Khiva on the 3 a.m. train.

I was literally tearing my hair out again. There seemed to be two choices. I would take the train to Khiva alone and remotely arrange my wife’s transfer and domestic flight to Khiva via Tashkent. Alternatively, we might be better to stick together, and both would go to Khiva via Tashkent. Either way, I needed to check schedule and seat availability on the flights from Tashkent to Khiva which I believed to be operated only 2-3 flights per day by narrow-boy Boeing 737s.

Just then, unexpected third choice came in. The station staff said he would negotiate with the train conductor. At this point, I would not have complained even if we were in a luggage car; if they would let us ride on the locomotive, I would pay whatever price they named. After waiting on the platform until just before departure, they found spots in a first-class sleeper car though my wife was in a separate compartment.

Since we had not bought official tickets, I was told the fare would be settled on board. After we were taken to our compartments, I was summoned to the end of the car. Using universal hand gestures, the conductor asked for cash, and I handed over the amount the station staff had told me. It was a reasonable price, essentially the standard fare rounded up, though an under-the-table deal.

We had finally secured transport and places to sleep, but I was in an upper berth and terrified of falling. I recalled the JNR sleeper train had safety ropes to prevent falls, whereas the Uzbekistan Railways sleeper car only had a low guardrail. To make matters worse, while my wife ended up sharing her compartment with three young female travelers, mine was packed with middle-aged Uzbek men. Looking back, perhaps I should have insisted on changing rooms at the expense of my wife, but I simply did not have the presence of mind for that at the time.

Middle-aged men are the middle-aged men all over the world. The compartment, already stiflingly crowded with three of them, the heat trapped in the upper berths, making it impossible to fall asleep. Besides, the drowsiness that had been stronger than coffee vanished had gone and I had exhausted myself mentally just getting on the train; sleep became the last thing on my mind.

With nothing else to do, I booted up MacBook Air in the dim light and spent the time editing photos using Adobe Lightroom. It kind of reminded me of developing films and making prints in a darkroom. It was a sign, perhaps, that I was finally settling down mentally. I have come to hope to catch a glimpse of the sunrise from the night train if possible.

The train arrived in Bukhara at daybreak. A different conductor from the one I had seen earlier came to me, apparently telling me to bring my luggage along. He led me to my wife’s compartment and, using gestures, explained that since the cabin would be empty from Bukhara onwards, we were free to use it. Everyone was just so kind.

The journey from Bukhara to Khiva took another five hours or so. Since I had a lower berth on this leg, I was able to sleep. As I drifted in and out of sleep, the train pressed on along the Silk Road. The scenery outside was so unfamiliar that it felt like a waste to sleep through it; I spent the time photographing the landscape passing by the window.

It turned out my air as a seasoned traveler was just a facade.

Last September, I finally went to Samarkand in Uzbekistan. At that time, I was interested in Shahrisabz, a historic town near Samarkand. However, even though it was a solo independent trip, I had time constraints.

Since I was not sure if I would have another opportunity to visit Uzbekistan, I was torn between enjoying Samarkand to the fullest or packing my schedule to go to Shahrisabz. There is a Confucianism text regarding the proper order of things, “To climb to the high, one must start from the lowest.” I was not fully sure whether I should climb it or not.

Even at the time I was in Samarkand, I still considered whether I should climb it or not. In the end, since my trip was mainly for photography, I prioritized taking my time to explore Samarkand. I only had limited information about Shahrisabz; I thought it would be better to get a grasp on the lower ground before attempting to climb to the high where I did not know what awaited me.

Unexpectedly, I ended up visiting to Uzbekistan for the second year in a row. Since it was my wife’s first trip to Uzbekistan, we could not miss Samarkand, the country’s top tourist destination. Since I already knew the must-see spots in Samarkand, there was no need to take a leisurely itinerary like last year. It was about time to climb to the high. I decided to go to Shahrisabz this year.

I searched again, but there was not much information on how to get to Shahrisabz. Finding a group tour would probably be the easiest option. However, since my focus was photography, I wished to have freedom to move around as I wish. Apparently, there was another option of taking a local shared van to Shahrisabz, but it could be very crowded and getting to pick-up points would be a hassle and waste of time.

I wondered if there would be an easy way to climb to the high.

Uzbekistan is a natural gas producing country, and its cars run on inexpensive methane gas. Taxis are inexpensive unless getting ripped off. However, I can effectively negotiate prices at work only, negotiating fares on the street would be a waste of time. I decided to ask the hotel to arrange a taxi. In any case, traveling with my wife should reduce the cost impact compared with the last year when I traveled solo.

Since cost management at work uses unit cost as a benchmark, I felt the cost would be halved by two people. However, from a household budget perspective, the cost of taxi fares is ultimately the same. Without realizing this, I received a quote from the hotel.

Maybe due to the lingering influence of former Soviet culture, unlicensed taxis are common in Uzbekistan. I have seen men attaching taxi signs to their private cars multiple times, so it is possible there is not a licensing system in place. In any case, aside from ride-hailing apps, fares are negotiable and while there may be a going rate, there is no fixed one. It was only at this point that I finally realized the magic of two-people taxi cost, but considering the round-trip fare plus waiting fees, I decided to believe that the amount seemed reasonable. By the time I requested a quotation, I was eager to climb to the high, already made a first step. This is why I do not have negotiation skills on street.

The driver who showed up was, as expected, an older man who seemed to be an acquaintance of someone at the hotel. I handed the cash to a hotel clerk, and the staff passed it to him. I was sure a few bills were taken in between, which must be the difference between the foreigner rate and the local rate. I just considered it as a handling fee.

Between Samarkand and Shahrisabz lies the Takhtakaracha Pass. I chose a clear day because I heard that I could see the Zarafshan Mountains, the border with Tajikistan, along the way. When we stopped at the viewpoint, I could see snow on the distant mountains. I had also seen the magnificent snow-covered landscape of the Tian Shan Mountains from the plane to Tashkent, which I supposed they were two advantages of coming to Uzbekistan in May.

However, upon arriving in Shahrisabz, the heat and sunshine were so intense that I forgot all of those advantages. The Historic Centre of Shahrisabz has been overdeveloped and designated a World Heritage Site in Danger. As a result, it is artificially isolated from the surrounding city area, and there are only a few places to eat and drink within the Historic Centre. It reminded me when I succumbed to the intense heat at the Hue Imperial Palace in Vietnam.

Although it is a World Heritage Site in Danger, overdevelopment is mainly the infrastructure of the Historic Centre. Restorations of the ruins and building are moderate and charming. Shahrisabz had significantly fewer tourists than Samarkand, making it easier to take photos.

However, the lack of tourists also meant there were fewer sights to see, combining with the Historic Centre where almost became a park, I might have felt that I had wasted half a day if I came to Shahrisabz last year. Nevertheless, together with the snowy scenery of the Zarafshan Mountains, it was a satisfying little trip for me as a second-time visitor.

Getting a grasp on the lower ground before climbing to the high was well worth it.