Sunday 23rd June

Up at 6 but not first down for breakfast. Neck scarves lovely and cold. Still full from last night, so take some for lunch. Is it in Turkmenistan that bread is sacred? Chocolate cake goes into fridge. Will be glad to change clothes. No Internet, no visa payment here either. Good roads out of Mari, but Turkish biker had warned us about the many speed traps. We crawl along smooth Tarmac at 40kph, very frustrating when we have so far to go and another border crossing today. Go along the wrong side of a railway line a turn round. Tim follows a man who knows where he is going. He does, an army barracks!!! We were given a map and strict instructions yesterday. We can only travel on designated roads, and this certainly isn’t one of them. Armed soldier comes towards us, Tim takes out a map, plenty of gesticulation goes on and Tim returns to the car. No idea what he said.

Get back on track. Many local people getting caught by speed cameras. We crawl along. People stand on road, waiting to be picked up. Two ladies decoration a wedding car. Fresh produce brought from gardens to be sold in lay byes – water melons, tomatoes. Man has caught several fish from eddies. Large modern buildings, curved, with lush green lawns and golden statues. Then back in desert. Road condition deteriorates, but able to drive faster than on Tarmac. Birds of prey take off from sand dunes, little white mammal skitters across road. Stop for break. Pee on same trouser. Crawl up to road block, but they stay in shade and wave.

Road goes on and on, mirages appear and dry up before we ever reach them. Our tyres are very skittish in the ruts. Refreshments in a yurt at lay by. Cows, camels and two hobbled donkeys. Overtake lorry from border yesterday. Drive through Repetek Nature Reserve, see a lizard. Can’t take your eyes off road surface for a second. Sand dunes held in place by cut rushes. Big fast cars overtake us, they obviously know the roads.

Not a solitary person in landscape. The better the road, the more speed traps. Cross wind keeps speed down anyway, and the camel who meanders across. Munch sacred bread. Vibrations shaking ipad, it keeps asking if I want to delete? Don’t you dare!!! I wonder what is round this slight bend – oh, more desert. Haven’t had any desserts for weeks. Old Soviet lorries in military green, a coach, carrying tourists? Stretch legs. Coke ran out yesterday. People have been navigating the desert and travelling along this Silk Route without sat navs for generations. How clever are they?

Only 27k from Turkmenabat. Learnt from last town, no road signs or directions, so find mapping on ipad. Eeekkkkk,,, can see border at Farap. Also see ladies with legs and arms out, might try it myself when I ever change inti clean clothes. Large industrial city. Long goods trains. Some roads do not allow lorries, and the surfaces are silky smooth. Golden statues of president , why don’t they spend the money on infrastructure?

Arrive at first check point. Recon it will take 20 minutes and 20$. We’ll see. Another guard laughs at steering wheel. “Good morning, good morning, good morning teacher.” Must still have chalk dust on my clothes. Drive across a bailey bridge floating in fast flowing river. Locals overtake giddily.

Samarkand is tantalisingly close. Over the border is Uzbekistan, second of the Stans. Towns of Bukhara, Nawaiy, Kattaqorghan then the fabled city of Samarqand.

We now know to drive past the lorries parked up. Our irate friend from yesterday is in the queue. He sees us, smiles and waves. Lunch hour different from yesterday, so we have to wait 20 minutes. Have some food, including chocolate cake from breakfast interesting. We change the Iranian rials that I found in my fanny pack last night. 50,000 ums. Or is it errs? It take two and a half hours to get through. Turkmenistan border no problem. This customs room is much better than the concrete box we sweated in on entry. Having insisted on the carnet to get our car in, they did not bother with it to get it out.

Uzbek side had computers. We had our temperature taken, to make sure we were well enough to enter. A guard walked around wearing a blue medical coat and latex gloves. Drugs I suppose. Uzbek guard spoke French, so Tim did sterling work translating. The guard was concerned that we only had until 25th to get out. We discussed which border to cross at, as he had to write it on the form. Decide to go hell for leather to Samaqand tonight, as we have hotel booked. Then only half day sight seeing, and move on tomorrow afternoon. Shame, but we all agree. Watch swallows flying in and out of the large hall, bringing food to their chicks. Foot passengers, women with children, have to wait whilst we and the lorry drivers go through. Customs did not want to empty our car, thank goodness. Buy insurance, show passports and this young guard says “England. Rooney”. Drive through gates into Uzbekistan.

Another country. So close, but so different. Uzbeks seem to be trying to improve roads. Faster speeds, couldn’t see any speed limit signs, and no police traps. Yet. Much greener scenery, still flat. Same utilitarian houses, one storey. Personalised by owners, different garden produce and flowers growing. People still helpful and curious. Sunday evening, little markets set up in parking bays and side streets. Man carrying scythe Tino would approve of. Barefoot man walking along stony hard shoulder. Difficulty in finding diesel, one attendant put some benzine in, the stopped. Large queues for fuel on other side, but we press on. Two storey houses, wrought iron pergolas with vines growing over. Little children with buckets of water, splashing in the puddles.

Stop to get another frozen bottle of water from fridge. Also drink last of fresh orange and apple juice from home. Delicious. Get stopped at check point. Apparently there was s stop sign which everybody else went through, but we should have stopped. The police asked for vodka, but Tim explained we had just come from Iran. They understood. We got away without paying a bung too.

Mountains appear to our right. 36 degrees at 8.30pm. People coming out in the cooler evening. Can smell freshly cut grass and bbqs. Mountains to our left now. Large silver moon in the sky, nearly full. Wedding party in large hall all strewn with fairy lights.

We drive on. Tim is looking to see where the road is, and I am looking out for vehicles without lights, cyclists and pedestrians. It is hard work. Then our indicators fail. Atle and Hilde have to fill their tank from the jerry can. We arrive in Samarqand and find the Grand Samarqand Hotel with a little local help. It is gone 11 pm. Dinner consists of beer, bread and almonds. The rooms are cold, the beds comfy and we crash out.

Monday 24th June 2013

Four weddings and a funeral (well three actually)

We didn’t set an alarm, and woke at 8.30. Ran around and beat the others down to breakfast – just. I felt jet lagged, but came round after food and copious amounts of black tea. We decide to contact the travel organiser, a charm lady who answers all our questions. We wait for the guide, drinking more tea and planning yet again. We will only have half a day here, and plan to do some driving tonight.

Our guide arrives. We faff around for a while, but also track down some diesel, where the bank is and where to stay tonight on the way to the border. Imranah our guide suggests we take one of our cars, then we show her inside. She flags down a minibus which will take us all and stay with us all day (after the driver has dropped his wife off at her sister’s).

We have an amazing whistle stop tour of Samarkand. She shows us the up town part with new buildings. In the Soviet days, apartments only had one bedroom. Now they are being built with two. Mr Stalin did a lot of good for Uzbekistan. A lot of reconstruction work was carried out on the famous mosques, but the insides of some have not been touched. In shady garden we see birds, Myna. We were shown the campaign routes of tamberlaine, and fantastic art, ceramic and needlework pieces. The sense of history, mixing of cultures and achievements in sciences, such as astronomy, was mind blowing. Imranah is fiercely proud of her religion, her country, it’s history and stresses the fact that it is a soviet state, not Islamic. We are proper tourists, walking round gawping, taking pictures, buying gifts. We stop for a quick beer, Atle and Hilde lounge on a large day bed, fashioning their camel hair hats. Whole families ask to have their photos taken with us, and we joined a wedding party in the mosque. Drive through families gathering for a funeral, the women wearing traditional mourning clothes in blue with white headscarves. The person must have died before 10 am today.

The journey back to the hotel is a mad dash. We have to get dollars, apparently the National Bank had moved premises. Screech to halt outside new one. Cashier had been in England earlier this year. Done the London Eye, Madam Tusseus, visited Stratford and Bath. I wondered if our tour guides were as fervent about their country and culture as Imranah.

We buy some locally produced French wine and beer. No time for Hilde to buy a dress. Back to hotel before 4pm when the cash card reader goes off line, and get the cars filled with diesel brought in jerry cans. Ate a late lunch, get involved with two more weddings. No marriages can take place during Ramadan, which is coming up soon.

Sorry to be leaving Samarkand so soon. We have all been reading it for so long during the years of planning. When we come back we will fly in, and not visit on a Monday when the 500 year old market is closed.

Leave later than planned, Hildefender starts first time and drive into the sunset. We said we would not drive at night again, but manage to navigate two mountain ranges, through sand storms kicked up by Atle, over appalling surfaces and negotiating roads that petered out. Several checkpoints, and on guard pointed his stick at the back mudflap, which was hanging off. It’s now in the back of the Landie. This is at a junction. Left is our route, right is to Afghanistan. We turn left. Send way point on Yellow Brick. 23k to go. The journey has been frightening, but exhilarating. What a buzz.

Stayed at Boysun in hostel. We believed it had no hot water, but in fact the beautiful en suite was not yet plumbed in and the toilets were outside. Running water came from a stand pipe. Beds were fine. Owner took us across the road, and woke up the owner of the cafe. Her child was asleep on the huge day bed, Wives and Daughters was on the TV, and fantastic beer served in Pyrex cups with hearts and flowers on. Discuss if it fair to judge a whole country and its people whilst just passing through for two days? I thought not. So glad we started on this journey towards the border tonight. Crept out without waking the owner.

It would have been great to see the scenery, but it will still be there in the morning. Inshallah.