Hello from Samarkand. Before telling you about the wonders of the jewel of the old Silk Road, though, an administrative matter....

Check out the album on this website. It's got about 50 of our photos - view them as a slideshow and you can read the anotations. Even if I say so myself, there are some right crackers on there! Ben, thank you for your help in getting these up on the site.

Anyway, back to the travels. Last you heard, we were in Khorog, in south Tajikistan. I was throwing stones over a river, and hitting the far bank, thereby demonstrating that Afghanistan was only a stone's throw away. Suitably amused, we then took a flight on Tajikistan's premier airline, Tajik Air....which we later found out has been banned from UK airspace, because of its unimpressive safety record (e.g. 81 people on a flight from Khorog to Dushanbe, fitted into 24 spaces. Result: plane too heavy, and crashes). However, neither this, nor the site of the rotund pilot staggering through the plane shortly before take off could put us off....because the flight to Tajikistan's capital, Dushanbe, is supposed to be one of the greats...

And it was. Taking off from a runway within a deep valley, the plane rises quickly to get over the mountains that are all around, with the valley sides only hundreds of feet off either wingtip. The views were stunning...rugged terrain, the snowy peaks of the Hindu Kush, and microscopic, isolated farming settlements. During the flight, the scenery becomes like a geographer's wet dream, and one can imagine that photos are likely to secure a high price in the geography student's version of Playboy. (The mountain's large shape rising sharply into the crisp air; the milky white tip surging majestically, arrogantly, amongst the clouds; the gushing meltwater splashing down, deep into the valley below etc....)

Dushanbe is a pleasant city, with a large, European-esque central boulevard, called Rudaki. Here, in the cultural hub of Tajikistan, we did what any right minded visitor would do....get lashed and eat at Central Asia's premier Ecuadorian restaurant. Having thereby done justice to the city, we headed for the border, and into neighbouring Uzbekistan.

It's fair to say that the border guards on either side were some of the most charming and pleasant I've met in all of my travels. Normally I have to ask at least twice for a cavity search, but here all it took was the briefest murmuring that I had mislaid my kilo of heroin, and they were immediately on the case helping me to find it. (Joke.)

And this brings us to Samarkand. If you think of typical Central Asia, the chances are you're thinking of the city heat, winding streets, atmospheric bazaars, Islamic architecture, and Asian mayhem of Samarkand. And the kebabs. Which makes it all the more ironic that we started our stay here in the State Art Museum. Surely it couldn't be as dull as the name suggests. Unfortunately, it is. And then some. If you are given the choice between hacking off a digit / toe, or spending a long afternoon in this place, it's a straightforward decision to make. I assume the curators are political prisoners, and by forcing them to spend time in a museum with such dull, poorly anotated artefects, the military police are well on their way to securing a confession.

Still, when the kebabs are beyond good. And we both also feel like multi-millionaires....the Uzbek som has been the victim of a small amount of inflation recently, meaning that 1USD is worth 1700 som, and the highest denomination note is 1000 som. We changed 100USD, and almost had to ask for a wheelbarrow to take it out of the bank.

Uzbekistan is run by an autocratic bully called Karimov (he's reported to be taking notes on the current UK MPs' expenses scandal - he loves corruption, and is always looking to improve on his performance), which makes it a pleasant surprise that the Uzbeks are so friendly and welcoming.

I'll sign out with this thought. I am currently probably closer to Djamolidine Abdoujaparov, the Tashkent Terror, than I have ever been before in my life. On that bombshell, it's kebab time again.

Do svidanya.