Category Silk Road

The Registan

Our first day in Samarkand left us spell bound and awe-struck. There is no exaggerating this place, because exaggerations are impossible here. Our train from Tashkent left at 7:00:01 on the spot and arrived in Samarkand at exactly 10:30:19am. This was the shortest train ride we’d had on the trip so far, but the one that yielded the most drastic difference from departure to arrival. At the Samarkand station we easily found a local driver to take us to the B&B we picked online called Bahodir B&B, Bahodir himself met us at the door and, after a round of handshakes and bows, directed us to his nicest room for $20USD a day including breakfast and all the tea we could consume. Our room had a double bed and two single beds, a small wooden table, perhaps built by Jesus himself it is so old, and a tiled bathroom with a toilet and a sink which has an extension so you can hold out a rod and shower under it. It is much more than we expected and when we discovered the grape-vine shaded courtyard we were ecstatic about the find. The Lonely Planet does not recommend this place, but we beg to differ. For starters, it is located within spitting distance of the Registan, Samarkand’s biggest attraction and, according to locals, the only reason people come to Central Asia.

The Registan is a three building complex which was built between 1417 and 1660. The Ulugbek Medressa is the oldest of the three structures and was completed in 1420 as a school where Ulugbek himself was rumored to have taught mathematics. In 1636 the Emir Yalangtush completed the Lion Medressa, which is opposite Ulugbek’s and world renowned for the lion image on the front façade. In between these two is the Tilla-Karri Medressa completed in 1660 and famous for its gold-topped mosque.

We walked around the Registan in awe, not only because of the amazing architecture, creative and dazzling designs and unending variety, but because of when it was built and how well it has stood the test of time. A woman selling tickets told us it was 7,000 CYM a person to enter, but for locals the price is 600 CYM. We decided not to go in, as it was crowded and, we thought, a bit pricy. Instead, we strolled all around the complex. A guard came up to us and offered to take us to the summit of one of the mighty pillars if we returned at 6pm for 3000 CYM.

We left the Registan without entering, and decided to grab a bite with a view nearby. At a highly recommended eatery we had lamb kebab and bread. Afterwards we walked in 90 degree heat with no itinerary in mind. We strolled aimlessly past the art museum and down Tashkent Road, which ended up being the best place to be. We went into a mosque and then into a bazaar, afterwards we strolled down a large hill to the Shah-I-Zinda Mausoleums. This was the second most astonishing thing I’d seen on the entire trip, after the Registan that is. While the whole complex was rebuilt very controversially in 2005, I found it a delight to see. Here is why I do not disagree with their renovation. For starters, if things were not maintained or renovated they would deteriorate entirely, and though a history major and a history buff, I feel that preservation in the West means alienating a thing and trying to protect it from the natural decays caused by gravity and weather. Out here, history is still alive. The restorations done in 2005 are no different than repairs made to the Coliseum while it was still in use. Locals respect and adore their history and culture and want to keep it alive, lively and worthy of the fame it already has. The restoration artists retained before and after pictures of the complex and, for the most part, stayed true to the original designs, structure layout and floor plan.
We walked up adobe stairs and into several mausoleums with markers for where the tombs are located. The exterior of the mausoleums are covered in intricate patterns using blue, teal and white tiles forming designs, flowers, and images of the sun. The interior was usually simple brick with an even more simple white marker bearing no script or indication of who lies beneath. Each mausoleum had its own collection of pigeons jealously guarding their territory. One would think that such beauty and intricacy would become dull over time, but this is not true. My eyes watered from strain, but could not look away. We went in every room, climbed every set of stairs and even walked behind every structure. The complex is set on a hillside where thousands of others are buried with simple marble markers overlooking the complex. Each tombstone of black shiny marble in the surrounding cemetery has an etched carving of the person beneath it wearing their finest clothing, and it is a bit eerie to walk around seeing faces you know are beneath your feet.

The complex houses one of the most religious places in Sunni Islam, the burial site of the Living King, the grave of Qusam ibn-Abbas, a cousin of Muhammad who supposedly brought Islam to the area in the 7th century. While there, we watched a local woman prostrate herself in his attached prayer hall. At 5:00pm we were still in the complex and heard the men chanting their prayers and watched them gather in the entry halls.
While we were advised to dress conservatively and for me to wear a head covering, once in the complex we discovered none of the locals cared. My head was uncovered and no one glared or gave strange sidelong glances. In fact, as we were leaving several Muslim women approached and asked if we would take a picture with them. Three women crowded around me and held my arms so tight they left white knuckle prints on my sun burnt skin. They were incredibly friendly. Unfortunately my camera is like Blade’s sword, only I know how to use it, so I could not get their friend to take a picture with my camera. Nevertheless, it is a happy memory I’ll retain just as vividly in my mind.

Back at the B&B we chatted with two men from Barcelona (the day after the Manchester United – Barcelona game on the 28th of May) who were riding their bikes around the world. They left four months ago and have eight more months before they return home. They were an interesting duo. As they were headed for China and we are headed, eventually, to Azerbaijan, we did a quick money transfer with them at the B&B, which proved to be much easier than getting rid of RMB anywhere else in Central Asia.

Medrassa bazaar

We were fortunate enough to spend seven full days in Tashkent, the capital of Uzbekistan, staying at the Grand Orzu hotel near the center of activity. Within walking distance to the train station as well as the metro, we were in the prime location to experience the city. While we saw and experienced many things in and around Tashkent, here are the highlights:

The regional museum. Shaped like a giant crown, this museum located on the fringes of Amir Timur park is well worth a visit. After buying your ticket (3,000 CYM) head up the stairs into the main room for a fantastic view of a three story mural, a tiled ceiling and giant chandelier and a Koran from 7^th (Islamic) century. From here you can climb two more floors of relics from around the country, maps, pictures, gifts from foreign dignitaries and models of all of Uzbekistan’s major buildings. After the museum, check out the giant statue of Amir Timur on horseback. Some time ago someone stole his horses’ family jewels, check this out.

Seattle Peace Park. Here you can go to the tiny zoo (rabbits, turtles and a misplaced ostrich) or ride bumper cars, shoot counter-strike guns full of tennis balls or ride a row boat. Don’t skip it because it sounds cheesy, that’s all the more reason to go!

Broadway. This used to be a lively and active street until the president visited and disliked what he saw. Now it is calmer, but in the afternoon heat stroll down to see the artists put their finest canvas on display.

Medrassa bazaar.

A converted former medrassa now houses craftsmen as they work their trades in woodwork, tile work, silks and especially tiny jewelry boxes hand painted in gold and bright Central Asian colors and designs.

Old Town. We walked around the bazaar and then back behind the main selling area before coming to a building resembling a small leaning tower of Pisa. Behind the bazaar we met two boys throwing bits of carcass into the back of a van.

Nipon park. This Japanese park near the Inter Continental hotel looked amazing, but it was closed when we showed up so we simply played with some nearby mallards before jumping the subway. Looks like a classy place, but its 4,000 CYM to get in.

Metro. The Tashkent metro is well known because each station is different and it was original designed as a series of conveniently placed bomb shelters. While the place is swarming with guards and we hear photography is forbidden, it was still fun to ride around (we used it to tour the city on two separate occasions) and easy to use.

Having lived in Shanghai for over a year, I thought I had experienced a truly versatile and adept cuisine culture. While Shanghai has a bit more to offer in the way of bulk variety, Tashkent is a city seething with diverse foods at affordable prices that far exceed international expectations. If you are ever so lucky as to find yourself in Tashkent, here are some of the wonderful restaurants we were introduced to by an expat who had spent considerable time living in the city and knew all the best places to dine.

Bistro

: This tasty pizzeria is nestled away from the street and houses an outdoor courtyard as well as a tented area. The kitchen consists of a large pizza oven and a counter where three young men help each other compile your pizza. Pizzas are about 11,000 CYM. They also do pasta very well, and don’t leave without trying the bread sticks.

Omar Kayane: This Lebanese/Mexican restaurant sports local decor, chicanas, hookahs and a diverse menu of specialties. Named after a famous poet, the place has all the spice and flare of a hopeless romantic. Formerly a Mexican restaurant, the new owners kept several favorites on their menu. Try the Potato skins. From the Lebanese section, the kebabs are highly praised, and the fatush, hummus and spinach wraps were amazing.

Caravan: Though a bit expensive, the decorations make this place a must-see. They have life shows some nights and late in the evening the interior dining area becomes a lively beer hall.

Chelsea Arms: This may be the single most overpriced pub on the planet. They deceptively charge in Euros, making each half liter of brew about ten-twelve dollars. Bring Prozac or an inhaler for when your bill arrives. If you have free cash to throw away, however, the interior is worth visiting for its authentic British feel, and it’s a marvel that someone managed to transport the items in the bar to the middle of Uzbekistan.

El Dolphin (from the guide book)This place was highly recommended by the Lonely Planet, and perhaps because of this the prices were quite high for what was delivered. However, the food was very good, we had the hummus, falafel, chicken , and a margarita pizza for about 40 USD. The décor is startlingly bad, but if you can force yourself to have a bit of faith you may be surprised.

City Grill:

At this hard-to-find grill we had the best meal I’ve ever had in a restaurant abroad. The grilled vegetables are fantastic, as is the filet-minion, T-bone, bone steak, ravioli, bread sticks and soup. As you can tell from the items we’ve sampled, we went more than once. The prices are surprisingly spot-on, and it’s a great place to sojourn. Try everything.

The Czech pub: This place had a diverse menu of Czech foods as well as an on-site brewery that produced sharp and interesting ales, pilsners and heffeweissens. Order the pickled cucumbers, the soups, bread basket and a few beers. Moderately priced with great décor, friendly staff and a endless menu options.

Soviet Chair Lift

We left mid morning for the lake, in Tashkent province, about an hour and a half north-east of the capital. The drive was peaceful and from the SUV we watched women sell their morning’s fruit harvest as old men and boys continued harvesting behind them in the fields. We passed through several small towns with large cathedrals, mosques and an abundance of butcher shops (comically called a ‘go-shit’ in Russian).

The protected area includes a lake at the center surrounded by rolling green hills with mountains in the distance. The lake was created when the river, which originates in Kyrgyzstan, was dammed. Thousands of people live in the area selling their harvests or living off the small tourism industry.

On the winding roads through the park we were occasionally surprised as children (average age of about eight) would jump out of the tall grass surrounding the road to wave purple and yellow bouquets of wild flowers at the car. At several large bends in the road women had congregated to sell their goods, and it was at once such bend that we found a young businesswomen selling burnt-sugar peanuts. These were easily the best snack I’ve ever had and she was the best bargainer I’ve ever encountered.

We stopped the car often to jump out and admire the view, which changed so drastically with ever turn in the road that it was almost like a new drive began every few minutes. Finally, after my eyes were so overloaded with beauty and newness that they felt strained, we pulled off the road to an old Soviet-era chairlift that went up the side of a large hill and into the snowy mountains. It was ill maintained but functional, and as we watched for several minutes not one car detached itself and fell to the jagged rocks below.

We went through the cattle wire to the ticket booth and bought a ticket each for about 2USD round trip. The chair lift was set up as a two-seater deal where it was obvious that each seat on the contraption had been replaced or reattached at some point or another. My chair set, for example, had one blue chair with no arm rest and one yellow one with rust discoloration. Under the chair, before one did a quick prayer and sat in the lift, there was painted two sets of footprints, the one on the inside larger than that of the outside. I sat on the outside, as I’m smaller, and when I sat down the chair swung in towards oncoming traffic- aka, those who had made it up and were now death-gripping their chairs on the way down. As the chair lifted off (not so gracefully, I might add) the chair attendant gave a surprised but jolly wave and cheer. The lift took around ten minutes from bottom to top, and as I am writing this I obviously lived through the adventure. At the top a large burley man who smelled of beer and lamb pulled me from the chair so forcefully my feet didn’t touch the ground until he let go well out of striking range of the pendulum-like chair. The attendant and his friend/co-worker/man drinking in the corner laughed at each other when they saw our petrified smiles.

The summit was beautiful and well worth the harrowing ride. Within seconds of summiting it began to snow and I donned my fleece and scarf. Previous pilgrims who had survived the Soviet chair lift had ripped pieces of fabric from their shirts and, with a prayer of thanks, tied the fabric to the fence at the summit. I felt compelled to do likewise but decided not to tempt fate- I’d tie on a thank-you at the base once I’d made it safely back down. Mama didn’t raise no fool!

After a tour of the summit we descended (much less terrifying) and drove down the hill a ways. From the summit we had seen a plane which, from our vantage point, looked to have crashed nearby. We drove down a bumpy dirt road to find the plane, which turned out to be an Aeroflot (I’ve always felt they were an unsafe fleet) plane surrounded by weeds and trees but guarded by a house and warehouse nearby. I still have no idea what the plane was there for, or, more puzzlingly, how it arrived in that position. It sure did not land there, and it could not have driven down the bumpy road.

We then drove to the lake where we walked down and stuck a toe or finger each into the icy water. We discovered a floating rock, which I stabbed with my knife to discover was actually a floating piece of filthy bread. We drove around the lake and stopped again at a high point before the dam, overlooking the entire lake and beyond. We climbed up into the rocks and gazed out at the truly beautiful green hills, jagged mountains and herds of goats, cheep, donkey and cows.

Driving now above the dam we stopped at a small café called the Golden Deer in Russian. We parked and sat in a local-style booth. No sooner had we sat down than every man, woman and child in the restaurant and outdoor café ran into the street to watch two young men drag race their cars up and down the strip of curved road where everyone had parked their cars. The boys peeled out, gained speed then slammed on the brake and e-braked as they threw the wheel into a firm 180. The crowd cheered them on while we sat in our outdoor booth wondering if they would smash into our car. This went on for half an hour. Meanwhile, we had ordered two Big Macs, which were on the menu in Cyrillic. How they heard of a Big Mac out there is beyond me. It was a double-decker hamburger with mayo. Copyright laws need not apply. This was also the site of several scenes which caused me to utter sentences that should not be said aloud, including, “That man is combing his stomach hair” and “Now he is playing with his mullet.”

Back in the car we drove around the dam (surrounded by guards) before heading back to the capital. It had been an adventurous, harrowing, peaceful and puzzling trip into the Tashkent countryside.

Yarkand Blacksmith in Old Town

Although our time was limited, I did not want to leave out our day trip from Kashgar to Yarkand. Albeit a late entry, Yarkand was a significant city and part of the southern silk road pass around the Taklimakan desert. We purchased tickets at the long distance bus station in Kashgar for the 3 1/2 hour ride to Yarkand on the outskirts of the Taklimakan Desert. This bus drove around Kashgar for over an hour looking for people for the one-way trip through the scorching desert basin between Kashgar and Yarkand. Rumbling along while listening to Chinese and Uyghur songs on repeat, we were surprised to see that the railroad was being extended from Kashgar to Yarkand. Migrant workers were digging up the desert in preparation for laying the rails.

I checked Marco Polo’s description of Yarkand and it was, like several other entries…brief. The most memorable statement he noted about Yarkand was that he was surprised by the large population suffering from goiter (a swelling of the Thyroid caused by a lack of iodine in the diet). I did not notice any issues several hundred years later as surprisingly, Yarkand looks similar to other modernized Chinese cities. As we pulled into the bus station, I was hoping to see rolling sand dunes and bazaars, but was disappointed as I saw paved roads and cars. Instead, Yarkhand was a moderately well-developed Chinese city. More than half of the population was Han Chinese and there was a large PLA (People’s Liberation Army) base in the North central part of town.

Yarkand can easily be seen in about one day. The gem of the city is the central mosque, which is located right next to the Old Town. There was more starring going on here than other places we had been recently and it was not surprising that these people didn’t see too many foreigners coming through. After seeing the parts of Old Town in Kashgar destroyed, it was refreshing to see that it will live on in Yarkand. Around the corner from the Mosque, there was a thriving Old Town bazaar. One can see rows of blacksmiths fashioning metal tools, furniture, birdhouses, and a variety of goods; most of this done in a way similar to several hundred years ago. Not much has changed since in this part of town.

Our return bus ride somehow took 5 hours, making it a pretty long day trip, but I would highly recommend going to Yarkand – especially if you appreciate the bazaar and the Old Town of Kashgar. Maybe one day we will return and cross the entire southern route of the Silk Road around the Taklamakan. Perhaps we may return through Kyrgyzstan or Tajikistan.

Lamb kebabs – Urumqi, Xinjiang. Urumqi has an amazing night market near the park with beer, kebabs, nan, plov and other Central Asian treats.

Pizza – Tashkent, Uzbekistan. There is a locally owned Pizza cafe called Bistro in Tashkent with amazing pizza, good beer and outdoor seating.

Coffee – Tashkent, Uzbekistan. This is on the list at everyone else’s request as I don’t drink coffee. Cafe Jum is the best spot in Central Asia for an espresso.

Spiced Tea – Kashgar, Xinjiang. We ran into a man mixing tea in buckets by the mosque in Old Town. Amazing spices and knock-you-out tea.

Nan – Almaty, Kazakhstan. This is, by far, the best bread I’ve ever head, and it is totally different from Xinjiang nan.

Battered califlower – Tashkent, Uzbekistan. Steamed, and then battered and fried. Creative and savory.

Fatush – Tashkent, Uzbekistan. This Lebbonese salad is a mix of tomato, califlower, tortilla and vinigar. Amazing.

Donar Kebab – Almaty, Kazakhstan. The best donar this side of the Tian Shan.

Goat milk yoghurt – Kashgar, Xinjiang. Mixed with sugar and served ice cold.

1. A marijuana plant growing on the side of the road in Tashkent, Uzbekistan.

Uzbek lake

2. Multiple people on the train shaking the border guards hands full of money to avoid having their bags searched in Kazakhstan.

3. Illegal money traders on every train in every country so far.

4. Kazakh guards patting Mike down for money, official theft.

5. Elderly man on Kazakh train with drugs taped to his stomach.

Honorable mentions:

6. Everyone driving in Central Asia is breaking a multitude of laws every second on the road.

7. Kazakh woman transporting goods illegal from China using our train cabin.

8. Racing cars down a public road in Uzbekistan, using the e-brake to pull 180s.

Cathederal

We arrived in Almaty, the former capital of Kazakhstan, at 6:00am after 36 hours on the train. We immediately realized how screwed we were when we tried to buy train tickets to Tashkent for the next day using charades, smiles and Pictionary-like drawings. We both studied Russian for the month before we left, and discovered that knowing how to ask someone’s name and where they are from is useless and unpractical, albeit friendly. Finally, I figured out that there was a train, from another nearby station, leaving at 5:12am the next day. I promptly bought two tickets for 12,000Tenge after speedily changing my RMB into Tenge at a nearby counter using a similar method of charades and Pictionary.
From the train station, we hopped in the back of someone’s car for 400T to So Young’s Youth Hostel. It was hardly 8:30am, but So Young was awake and set about making a nice breakfast of fresh peppers, bread, popcorn and tea. A New Zealander woke up and joined us, and a bit later a boy from Holland joined in. We discussed everyone’s travel plans and how So Young, a S. Korean native, had ended up in Almaty (logistics expert for rail transport).
While we have many legitimate gripes with The Lonely Planet guidebooks, the section on Almaty was decent and set up an 8k ‘walking tour’ through the key spots in the city. We decided to add ‘buy Russian phrase book’ to our to-do list for the day. We walked all around the city in honest awe of the cleanliness, greenery, modernity and friendliness of the city and debated settling here for 6 months or so to learn Russian in a comfortable and interesting metropolis. This is still a possibility, although we would also like to see what Uzbekistan has to offer.
We had a fine 6USD lunch at a bier garten and then walked to the city bazaar and mosque, as well as an old cathedral in the middle of Pavlov park. We walked to the cable car, but decided not to take it to the top because of impending rain clouds. An hour later it poured so ferociously that the streets soon filled with water. We ducked, quickly, into the town’s biggest expat bar in an attempt to meet a few locals to hear what they think of living in the city- but the bar was deserted. Dashing through the rain, we reached So Young’s and settled in for some quality time with the other travelers and So Young, and a nice evening prepping for our border crossing tomorrow and uploading pictures.
More from Uzbekistan soon to follow.

This morning, after a bout of food poisoning which rendered us useless and hostel-bound yesterday, we decided to check out the famous Kashgar Sunday Market. According to our hostel owner/Kashgar guru the Sunday Market swells the city’s population by 50,000 people once a week. This morning, however, was a different story because of a freakishly random and intense rain storm which flooded part of the city and overturned potted plants and rattled the fragile wooden shutters.

We took the number 8 bus from the Old Town Mosque to the last stop on the line, which was 200m from the market…. across a giant puddle the size of one of the Great Lakes. After skirting the giant flooded road (effectively covering my black pants in yellowish-brown mud and clay) we found the Sunday market partially deserted. Apparently the rain and flooding was enough to scare away many an eager merchant.

The folks who did turn up were mostly selling livestock. We found a certain breed of sheep quite foreign to us, and a bit bizarre. The sheep had human-looking butts, no joke. They were pink, plump, and hanging off of the body of the sheep where a tail should be, almost like baboon butts. Buyers were inspecting the sheep’s teeth, utters, and then lifting and groping the plumpness of the sheep’s hind quarters, which were substantial.

Walking past the bizarre-butt sheep I nearly fell when my foot slipped on something atop the mud and water. I looked down and gasped to discover I had stepped on a goat’s ear that was attached to a goat’s head, but that is where the attachments ended- there was simply a pile of goat heads on the ground and I had managed, somehow, to step on it.

After jumping goat-ear-foot first into a puddle to rinse my shoes of the goat’s blood I turned to find Mike peering through a gateway into a giant field of mud and poo that was sectioned off into stalls where, on one side people were selling baked goods and spices and on the other selling big-butt sheep, goats and cattle. Strangely enough, amid the swine flu, there was an entire truck loaded down with large, pink pigs. Swine flu paranoia is at its height in Kashgar, with one French resident of our hostel having been forcefully quarantined at the local hospital for having a fever.

After slipping on severed head and watching people grope sheep butt we

decided it was time to eat. Still a bit quasy from the food poisoning (and raw meat and heads lying about) we decided to head to the only western place in town, the Fubar Cafe. We arrived and instantly felt like we were back in the states, a pool table was the center piece of this establishment, with a wall of board games, a bar and several menus that made my mouth water. We pulled out the risk game where we proceeded to play 5 full games (we were there about five full hours as well, as a result) while eating pizza and hamburgers and drinking captain cokes. When you are away from your homeland’s food and feeling ill, there is nothing quite as satisfying as something recognizable.

We spent the rest of the evening and well into the night walking around Old Town bazaars and getting lost (intentionally) in the old back alleys. The Old Town section of Kashgar is fading quickly, with some recent reports indicating that a full 2/3rds of the area has been leveled in the last two weeks. There is destruction all around us and I honestly think this place will be gone within the next two years, if not sooner. It is one of the nicest and most lively neighborhoods I’ve ever seen, and that makes this a real shame.

Kashgar

We arrived in Urumqi, Xinjiang,at exactly 4:10pm today (right on time) after a 48 hour train ride across China. From here we have purchased tickets to Kashgar for tomorrow at noon, and will arrive in the city around noon the next day (24 hour train through the Taklamakan Desert). From there we have no plan, but need to be in Kazakhstan between the 17th – 20th. We hope to spend quite a bit of the next 15 days in and around Kashgar where Mike hopes to get the famous dry-shave that Tim to heartily recommended.

The train ride was an amazing experience, and one of the best train rides we’ve ever taken. A Uyghur man and his wife were in the bunk below us and the man proceeded to play his violin into the evening as a small community of Uyghurs gathered in our car to sing along, suggest songs, and listen. The man, upon hearing we were American, played some Western songs for us, including Wagner and Gershwin.  We were fortunate to be in such a great car for such a long trip. On previous journeys we have had crying babies or spitting businessmen on their cell phones well into the night. A small boy was on the train with us and he did not cry the entire trip (as I would have done at age 2). Instead, he ran around the car making friends with everyone and sitting on every lap in the car. At one point he defecatedin the only sink in our car, but his mother lovingly fixed the problem with her only towel….which she then washed in the sink and used to bathe the child. At any rate, he was a happy boy and he cheered up the long trip.

Urumqi is as we remember it – a cosmopolitan city bustling with movement. It seems everyone here has luggage and is on the move. We have only this evening to spend in the city, so will head back to the Uyghur night market. Having spent ten days in this city in 2006 I am not upset that we cannot spend longer now, but it is a lovely place.

Of minor inconvenience, my original backpack broke on day one of the trip. I replaced the bag in Shanghai with another that broke this afternoon. The damage is not total, and because I am my father’s daughter I had enough rope and caribineers to fix the problem.

We have my guitar along on the trip, and I hope to improve quite a bit as we travel. Tonight we’re re-stringing the guitar with nylon strings so I can really learn the Spanish guitar songs I love so much. Watch out Gypsy Kings!

As the trip planning progresses I find myself at the stage of applying for international visas, a process wrought with vagueness and inconsistencies. For example, you can get a transit visa for several Central Asian countries but the duration of stay is not long enough to get across the country by land. Or, visa laws will stipulate that you need A, B and C and then when you get to the consulate they will have a list that goes from A to Z of random documents and health testing you need. That aside, the trip planning is going well. We are set to go from Urumqi to Almaty by train or bus through the Tien Shan mountains, and then spend a day in Almaty seeing the world’s second largest canyon and the accompanying hot springs. From there you grab a train to Tashkent, Uzbekistan, where we’ll spend a day in the capital before heading to Samarkand and Bokarah, where I’d like to spend a few weeks, if time permitted.

Maps of the region are hard to come by, so planning a more accurate by land traverse is difficult. Where trains become obsolete we’ll take buses. In Central Asia and China a bus is anything from an SUV with all the seats removed to a long hallow tube with stacked cots and a pin for animals in the back. Hopefully the buses in and around Bukarah are an improvement upon earlier experiences, but either way its an adventure.

Trains are apparently the best way to travel…. until you reach Bokarah, whereupon the train becomes a projectile of T.B. From Bokarah we’ll need to take buses or rent an SUV or comission a pack of horses or camels to take us to Ashgabat. With visa laws somewhat obscure for Turkmenistan, I’m having difficulty believing I can just nab permisssion to cross at the border.

I’m growing more excited about the trip. Reading up on the bazars,

minnerets, whirling-dervishes, single-eyebrowed ladies and massive lakes of fire have inspired me to salavate when looking at the map of my overland route. It is a shame humans invented airplanes because I feel little good has come of it. We use them for war and for making travel easier. Unfortunetly its made travel less interesting. This trip is really going to feel like a trek from shore to shore. From Shanghai to Ashgabat, and then west to Turkmenbashy on the Caspian Sea. Visas are being acquired and train tickets sought out. The countdown begins!

-Posted by Lauren.

In planning the trip from Shanghai to Ashgabat, I’m encountering some chatter online about difficulties previous travelers have faced trying to cross the Irkeshtam pass from China into Kyrgyzstan. I contacted a Central Asian expert to inquire about the safety of traveling in this region, as well as the probability of attempting a border crossing at Irkeshtam. I was told it would be a waste of time to attempt to get from Kashgar to Osh. However, there is some hope in arranging for a Chinese travel company to escort me to the border and then deliver me to a Bishkek travel company, which would then drop me off safely in the capital of Kyrgyzstan.  As for safety, there was no one who would recommend a woman travel alone, naturally.

I’m determined to travel from the Coast of China to the Caspian Sea. If there were some way to make it from Turkmenistan to the Mediterranean I could have gone from coast to coast without touching an airfield, truly a feat in this day and age, where travel is about arriving, not departing.Alas, there are a few countries between the Caspian and the Med that are not intelligent to visit at present. It is all in the planning stages, and perhaps there is a way, but I will be more than happy to have gone from Shanghai to Ashgabat.

I invited a travel partner recently, and am excite to hear if she can make the trip. This woman has traveled all over the world, and has a travel resume that would make even the most adventurous traveler blush in envy. I’ll let you know what she says. She speaks some Russian and a bit of Kyrgyz, which would be helpful on the trip, not to mention she has an intimate knowledge of the Stans. I’ll not ruin the surprise until I get confirmation.

All else is going well, investigating visa options, researching train schedules and studying maps. I’m also following the news from the countries we’ll travel through and alternate routes should anything go south mid-trip.

-Posted by Lauren.

As many of you know, I was laid off from my financial job on New Year’s Eve (classy timing). But this upsetting twist has been an amazing thing. I’ve been busy writing full time now, and making a fairly decent income to boot. I’ve been painting and touring around Shanghai as well, and will upload pictures of the paintings soon.

Alas, this time should not go wasted. It is rare that I have money saved up, free time, and the perfect location from which to launch a trip like this one. I’m planing a journey across land from Shanghai to Ashgabat, beginning late April. So far, I have the first half of the trip, some 8,200 miles, planned.  I’ll take the train from Shanghai to Urumqi, which is a 48 hour trip through a varied and diverse terrain. I’ll be writting on the train, as well as photographing the changes as we chug through flatlands, mountains and then desert.  From Urumqi I’ll take an overnight bus to Kashgar, the bus takes 24 hours and skirts along the Taklamakan desert, one of the harshest in the world.The bus leaves mid day so that we will be traveling by night through the deepest parts of the desert.

Kashgar is one of the few places on the planet that inspires instant envy. I’m enveious of the folks I know who have been there who claim it is truly an oasis of culture and color- the fading with the influx of new residents. I want to get there before it compleately dissapears.

From Kashgar to Ashgabat, the roads are a bit hazy and the trip a bit more dangerous. Careful planning is needed, at least to secure visas, permits and find a map with existing roads on it. This second phase of the journey will be planned at a later stage. For now, I’m busy finding out what there is to see along the route I have mapped so far. I’ve been to Turpan and toured around Urumqi, so this trip I’d like to check out some outlying villages to the North of the city before heading through the desert to Kashgar. At some point, I’m determined to use a camel as a mode of transportation.

I just hope my laptop doesnt melt. April/May is a rough time to be out in the desert, but alas there is no time like the present. It will take about a month to finish planning, packing and acquiring visas, hence, the adventure begins now!

-Posted by Lauren.