Bukhara (Uzbekistan)
Escaping from Samarkand without incident was a good sign for I was feeling a tad nervous about negotiating the madness of the traffic after my accident in Dushanbe. The dual carriageway was in relatively good shape for most of the 275 kms to Bukhara. I was looking foward to my new destination as many travelers had recommended Bukhara as being more interesting simply because the old town had been reconstructed intact free of any modern development. It took 5 hours because it was 'stinking' hot. But finding a comfortable hotel was relatively easy as Bukhara is a tourist mecca with a very well organised high quality souvenir and traditional textile industry attached.
I found a cafe to eat at 6:30pm as I had skipped lunch whilst being on the road. A bunch of guys who were participating in the 'Mongol Rally' sat down beside me. They were part of a 400 strong team whose cars were all heading for Mongolia as part of a charity to help Mongolia. The rules were simple. The car must be less than 1200cc and 12 years old. They nominated how long they would take to get to Ulaanbataar and donated the cars for auction on arrival. The route and type of car was all pretty open. I saw Skoda's, Fords, Opel's and even three jolly Italians travelling in a Fiat Panda. A number of Aussies were participating in the fun event. After having ridden on many Mongolian tracks I was a little concerned for these guys as there was only minimal preparation done on these cars to get them there.
The next morning, I was invited to join two visiting Canadian diplomats on a tour of the 'Summer Palace' and mausoleum just outside Bukhara. Both structures have undergone extensive maintenance but the interior of the Summer Palace has been preserved including many of the fittings and artistry since the departure of the last Emir many years ago. The Emirs lived a good life with very opulent surroundings including extensive gardens attached to the palace. The vivid colours and patterns of the architecture, traditional clothing and furniture indicated to me that a significant portion of the Uzbek (ie Persian) culture has been maintained despite the major impact of the Soviet occupation throughout much of the 20th century.
Hotels here were decorated with much of the traditional art of the Region. My room at the K Komil Hotel was like staying in a museum with lots of rugs and adornments scattered about the solid timber structures with mudbrick construction. Despite the 40 deg temperatures, the room was cool and dark. Mr Mule was permitted to park in the air-conditioned foyer of the hotel. Despite having a cover over it to distract attention, Margaret (one of the Canadians) thought that it looked like Darth Vadir waiting for some action.
Being surrounded by all these luxuries (ie A/C rooms) was all very good as I was still nursing my injured chest and after sneezing today I thought I was going to have a heart attack. Soon I would be heading towards the old Aral Sea port of Moynaq. It would be stifling hot and desolate and I would need all of my faculties to get there and into Turkmenistan.