Feeling at home in Samarkand

Fresh from a birthday celebration at the gates of Hell, a visit to Ashgabat, one of the most surreal capital cities ever and some really spotty cell service, I was back in Uzbekistan. After already having spent some time in Tashkent, Bukhara and Khiva, it felt very much like coming home. 

Sure, I got to Samarkand in the middle of the night after taking a train from Bukhara and the Yandex driver couldn't make neither heads nor tails of the address for the fabulous Old Radio hostel. Experience had taught me that surely it would be hiding deep within a labyrinth of tiny winding streets. Spoiler alert: it was, much to the relief of the driver who had parked his car and undertaken this quest with me on foot.

It wasn't until the morning that I realized just how good my location actually was. Turn right and you're doing the wind-y wind-y back to the main road but go the other way and there is a door leading right to a major pedestrian thoroughfare. I was smack next to a vegetarian restaurant, Central Asia's largest mosque and a bazaar selling more fruits and nuts than I could ever dream of. 

On that first day, I had booked an afternoon free walking tour, which would cover all the highlights. Therefore my question to the fine folks at Old Radio was: where should I go beforehand that is not a highlight? The fact that they even entertained such a bizarro question is admirable, yet they did and directed me towards the Tourist Village.

Based on the name alone, it kind of sounded awful but sometimes you just gotta roll with it. I'm glad I did.  The "village" was actually a collection of artisans' workshops spread throughout a bucolic if not at all authentic park-like setting. Watching people go about their crafts with pretty much zero high pressure sales tactics was an unexpected surprise and exactly what I needed after a long travel day. 

I returned relaxed and with my souvenir shopping done. It was time for the tour, which met at the Gur-e-Amir mausoleum. If there was one name I'd heard a lot in Uzbekistan, it was Amir Timur. He was the fearless warrior who defeated the Mongols and ruled the Timurid empire. This was his final resting place. 

In 1941, Russian anthropologists actually opened his crypt and removed the body, purportedly for scientific purposes. There was also a side quest to debunk the superstition that anyone who opened it would be cursed. To be fair, the tomb did have an inscription that read "whoever opens this will be defeated by an enemy more fearsome than I" so they really should have listened. They didn't and the very next day, Hitler invaded the Soviet Union. 

 

Most of our walking tour took place at dusk, meaning the only place we actually entered was the Mausoleum. The other sites were more walk-by viewings, which was pretty informative and gave me ideas what to do for the next few days.

The next morning, I decided to start right next door to my hostel at the Bibi Khanym Mosque, built by Amir's wife. As I mentioned, it is the largest in all of Central Asia, able to hold 10,000 worshippers. Sadly, the ambitious scale of the project was problematic from the get-go, leading it to start collapsing before it was even completed. Today, it is partially in ruins but still worth a visit for its haunting beauty.

I continued following the path I'd covered during the walking tour and stopped at the Hazrat Khizr Mosque, built on the former site of a Zoroastrian temple. It honors the Islamic prophet, Khizr, who is associated with water and eternal life.  

Combine this history with a pretty great view and it makes sense why the the first president of Uzbekistan, Islam Abduganiyevich Karimov, chose to repurpose the site as his very own mausoleum.

Nice as it was, it was not in the top two can't-miss sights our guide had recommended. Those were next on my agenda. First up was #2, Shah-i-Zinda. The name translates to Tomb of the Living King and it is a necropolis housing everyone from the Prophet Mohammed's cousin, Qusam ibn-Abbas to many of Timur's loved ones. This may give it plenty of historical cred but that doesn't even scratch the surface. 

Once you enter, it is set up like a city street with mausoleums on either side, only it feels more like a museum showcasing the most gorgeous tile work you have ever seen. There is a phenomenon that you hear about in Uzbekistan, called  "tile fatigue", where after a while, all the mosques, madrassas and shrines starts to blend together. I get it, when you are not familiar with the nuances of any art form, the differences can become indistinguishable.  

But if you want to learn about Islamic mosaic, I can't think of a better place than this. Let's say you are not looking for a scholarly pursuit. You just want to look at pretty patterns and infinite shades of blue. Still works. 

I was simply awestruck. It was one of those places where you want to take pictures of every detail but don't even know where to begin. I wanted to return at sunrise to capture it in a different light and deeply regret that I never got around to it. 

It was simply one of the coolest places I'd seen. Period. In a country full of stunning architecture, Shah-i-Zinda managed to stand out and then some. Just wow!!

Remember how I said that it was the 2nd must-do in Samarkand? That means there is a sight even more impressive. How crazy is that? Crazier when you realize it's true. The most famous square in all of Uzbekistan is Registan Square. You want to know how famous? I Face-timed a friend while waiting for the light show and he practically screamed "Is that Registan Square?!!" This is a person who had asked me where Uzbekistan was. He may not have known much about the country but as gamer, he was intimately familiar with Registan Square from one of his games. 



The square is made up of three madrassas, including one founded by Ulugh Beg, Timur's grandson and a noted astronomer in his own right. The individual elements come from different times and reflect changing styles but together, they make up a perfect unified whole. I spent 3 days in Samarkand and can not say how many times I simply sat on the steps taking it all in. 

More so in the evening when they had a free light show covering the history of the region. I saw the whole thing twice and I had I been there longer, I guarantee you the number would be higher.

My father used to complain that I always had to squeeze the lemon. I believe he meant that I had to wring every bit of enjoyment out of any given situation. He was right. Right next to Registan Square, there was a killer craft beer pub. I had stopped by a couple of times and decided to go after my first light show. When I got to the door, I discovered that there was a sold-out concert underway. I turned to leave when the manager ran after me, grabbed my hand and led me to a prime seat at the bar before placing my favorite beer in front of me. If there is a more thoroughly squeezed lemon than a light show at Registan Square followed by getting invited into a rocking Uzbek concert while drinking a top notch IPA, I want to hear about it immediately.

The next day, I bounced over to another country- more on that in another post- but returned for one last day in Samarkand. 

That day was spent both returning to now favorite haunts and hitting up some spots I'd missed the first couple of days. One of those was the Ulugh Beg observatory. This guy could have easily been a power-hungry nepobaby but this museum did a great job of showcasing his passion for the sciences and his many contributions therein (such as mapping out previously undiscovered stars and calculating the earth's tilt with better accuracy than Copernicus).

I also had a long list of recommendations from the hostel that I wanted to check out. 

I started with the Samarkand Restaurant which had a great patio and a definite wedding vibe interior. 

As much as I liked it, I preferred the Blues Bar.  It had a sweet underground feel and for a couple of dollars, I was able to get a charcuterie plate and some excellent local wine.

The hostel had described it as a place where you could make new friends, which was definitely the case. As I sat there, enjoying my wine and cheese, a cat appeared out of nowhere. He strolled over, made himself comfortable on my lap and promptly fell asleep. I was no longer free to leave the Blues Bar. I cancelled other plans, ordered another glass of wine and chilled until my new buddy was ready to go. 

I don't know if I had just become more in tune with the rhythms of Uzbekistan or if Samarkand is just that much cooler. Where I had felt a bit restless in the other Uzbek cities, I really did love it here and could have happily stayed longer. And had that cat not woken up, I may have had no choice but to do so...