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Ultimate Uzbekistan – Khviva

We got up at 3:00 am to catch the Bukhara-Urgench express.  Paige bought the 4 berth cabin so we had railroad sheets and pillows with privacy for the 6 hour trip across the Kyzylkum Desert.

The conductor’s room.

Urgench is actually 2 towns, the ancient in Turkmenistan and the modern one across the border in Uzbekistan.  They also include the ancient settlement of Khiva.

New Urgench is a vast fertile valley served by the Darya River which originates in Tajikistan.  The area has been irrigating for more than 2,000 years, growing cotton and rice for export on the Silk Road.  It also has exported alfalfa and other seeds for hundreds of years.  Since the advent of electricity and pumping power it has really expanded irrigation as it looks like some city along Highway 99 in California.

Walking away from the train station we stopped for breakfast and Paige spotted a restaurant with 2 tandoor type ovens.  It became obvious that they were very popular as people bought them one after another.

We’ll take two!  A samosa of some sort with a spicy meat filling and a sauce on the side.  It took a couple tries to eat them correctly without silverware. When in Rome….

We spent the night in Urgench as it’s the gateway to Khiva but didn’t nothing other than walk around.

Khiva – a crown jewel and great summation to our Central Asia Silk Road adventure.

Per Lonely Planet – The historic heart of Khiva (Xiva) has been so well preserved that it’s sometimes criticised as lifeless – a ‘museum city’. But walk through the city gates and wander the fabled Ichon-Qala (inner walled city) in all its monotone, mud-walled glory and it’s hard not to feel like you are stepping into another era.

Well said!

Within a hour of our arrival, while having lunch, the same Road Scholar tour group we saw Kazakhstan and Tajikistan walked past us!

Our hotel was within the town walls so it was super convenient to walk, eat, explore and take photos. Rinse and repeat for 3 days.  Palaces, madrasas, caravansaries/markets filled the town.  The night time was stunningly peaceful as the whole town was magically lit.

We celebrated Bill’s birthday at a roof top restaurant with a sunset dinner.  Below a woman baked fresh bread Tandoor style.

My camera finally kicked the bucket! No more limping along. Now just dead weight in my pack.

Back to Urgench for our last night and a morning flight to……. It’s time for a different selection of food.

Uzbekistan – Bukhara

It was a two hour high speed train that took us from Samarkand to Bukhara – the historic city center is another UNESCO World Heritage site.

*click on photos to enlarge

Early morning bread delivery to the train station

Different from Samarkand Bukhara hasn’t changed much since it’s inception. No big shiny, new buildings and restorations haven’t changed much from its original form.

The Bukhara Fortress, the Ark, is an intact magnificent walled (up to 66’ tall) city full of madrassas, mosques and markets.  It was occupied without interruption from 4 BC to 1920 when the last Emir was removed by the Bolsheviks. 

Through out our time in Central Asia people asked if would pose with them in a photo.  In a sea of dark hair my white hair stood out like Rudolph’s red nose.  Bill often is referred to as 007.

Cotton is a major resource exporting to Eastern Europe.  Handwoven rugs and embroidered items hang from railings hawked to persons apparently traveling with trunks and not carry-on luggage.

Outside Bukhara is the summer palace of the Emirs – Sitora-I Mokhi Khosa.

Back streets encounters find children kicking soccer balls, bikes, markets and doors with treasures.

We stumbled upon a group of men playing cards and backgammon.  After asking if I could take a photo they kindly invited us in to share chai tea. Again, we did not share the same language but sat like old friends.

Three generations – grandma, mom and grandson were picking apples in their front yard.  They flagged us down and insisted upon sharing a handful of tart and tasty, small green apples.  I think they would have given us a box full had we not insisted that a handful was enough.

Evening roof top dinners, cocktails and sunsets were the icing on the top of each day.

 

 

Uzbekistan- Tashkent to Samarkand

Venturing into a train station to buy tickets where no one speaks English can be a bit tricky.  Lucky for us a kind gentleman offered to assist in translating.  The Uzbek people have to be the kindest that we’ve encountered on this trip.

Men put their right hand across their heart and bow ever so slightly to greet or thank one another.  This is especially true toward women since men do not shake a woman’s hand.  It feels so kind.

The same kindness is granted on the road.  In either direction no matter how many lanes one car pulls over slightly so another may pass.  The same is true with oncoming traffic – cars move slightly aside to allow passage.  It gets a little tenuous when 4 cars share 2 lanes but somehow it works. No road rage!  

Back to the train station.  Our new friend walked us to the counter and asked for two tickets to Samarkand.  The ticket lady told him there were only upper seats available and perhaps we could ask for a lower one once we got on the train.  Ok – that seems simple.

After helping us John (his English name) gave us his name, phone number and email address offering to help us in any way while we’re in his country.  Wow.

It’s a four plus hour train ride to Samarkand. Founded in the 7th century BC.  Hugely popular on the Silk Road trail making it the most crowded tourist spot so far.  The Registan (UNESCO), Gur-e-Amir, Bibi-Khanym Mosque and Shah-i-Zinda were so full of people that it took away from its peacefulness but not its majestic beauty.

*click on photos to enlarge

Samarkand, the navel of the vast empire held by Timur aka Tamerlane (1300’s) one of history’s greatest and cruelest conquers.  It was built by architects, artists and craftsmen abducted by Tamerlane and his his descendants from away conquered territories for 2,000 year it was one of the most important stops on the Silk Road, it’s bazaars thronged with merchants and shoppers.

Controversial and frowned upon by some it is believed that the government has “over-restored” these once falling down sites making them appear more like “Disneyland”. However to stand the test of time one must restore – right?

Back to the train – I had pictured a double decker train since our seats were upstairs.  HA!  Talk about lost in translation.  Upstairs is a small bunk.  Bill and I discovered we both had these and also were in separate parts of the compartment.  Our carry-on luggage now seemed huge as there was virtually no place to store them.  The lack of air circulation had me in melting.  I must have looked a wreck.

Two sweet women noted the confusion on our faces and the sweat on my brow while we tried to figure out our seats, luggage, etc.  Moments later one of the women came up to me and motioned for me to follow.  She pointed to the top bunk and the seat below.  Don’t know how she arranged that but it worked out perfect.  Bill would have never fit in the bunk.  The seat offered no room for his legs since his suitcase filled that space but he was extremely grateful for the seat. Bill sat like a yogi pretzel and I was able to recline and nap.  Fortunately there was a tiny window above the bunk that allowed fresh air during the journey.  It worked out perfect.

Across the way a beautiful young woman snapped a photo of me in the bunk and then motioned for me to hand her my phone where she opened my Instagram account, shared the photo and the followed my account.  From her account I learned she’s a doctor finishing her medical degree and gymnast coach.  She was traveling with three young gymnasts for a competition.

The history and the architecture in each location are stunning but it’s these little life events with others with whom we can not conversant but still manage to communicate that make exploring new cultures so worthwhile.

We saw this stunning white building with its door ajar. An invitation to sneak in – right?  We stumbled upon this ornate room that was set up for a wedding.  Wowza.  The worker was sitting on the floor in the corner on his phone.  He had no idea we were there.

An open door in another alleyway showcased a collection of old treasures for sale.  While I snapped some photos Bill visited with the owner.

Now having been to several cities in Uzbekistan we’ve learned that kiddie parks are part of the landscape.

My camera has been giving me grief.  The shutter button at times stops working.  I can reset it by removing the battery and reinserting it only to have it happen after a few shots.  UGH!  Thank goodness I’m not photographing a wedding.

Japanese tourist was wearing these!
Shoe repair
These punching machines are scattered around the town.

 

 

Uzbekistan continued…

On our adventure to follow the Silk Road Uzbekistan might be the crown jewel.

The land of storks, white Chevrolets (were told Chevy has a factory here) and 3,000 mosques in Tashkent alone, ping pong and two Russian cosmonauts (one-upping Kazakhstan from where Sputnik was launched).

*click photos to enlarge

We walked our legs off in the capital and largest city –  Tashkent – which means city of stone or stone city.  Founded over 2,218 years ago.  Part old beautiful Soviet buildings (yes – they do exist), part mud houses and then the shiny new which are popping up like freshly planted seeds.  Like Beijing, the hutongs are being razed and replaced with square high rises.

Hideous, run down and beautiful was the Uzbekistan Hotel.  Built in 1974 and had to have been the cat’s meow. Now a beacon on the horizon, photo op and a place where Bill got a hair cut.

The are large flood irrigated parks and open irrigation ditches and drains.  A kiddie sized carnival embedded in the heart of the city park where mini-me sized rides and games entertain all year round.

Kyrgyzstan to Kazakhstan to Uzbekistan with a detour to Tajikistan

From Bishkek we followed the Silk Road to Tashkent, Uzbekistan via Shymkent, Kazakhstan.  Another crossroad conquered and destroyed by all the great invaders.  It lies in the foothills above a great valley.  Noteworthy because Timurlane the Great died here, and the city’s forges produced millions of lead bullets for Russia’s WWII fight against Germany.

*click on photos to enlarge

The train left the station at 11:22 pm and lasted 14 hours.  We paid for all 4 berths in one compartment assuring us some privacy (approx. $32.00 total).  Unfortunately that compartment was only a door away from the WC (water closet/toilet).   Thick pads and down pillows were rolled up on the top berth and to my horror there were no linens.

The ticket collector showed up and plopped down next to Bill and we tried to communicate while he looked to make sure our paperwork was in order.  Russian is the “common” language amongst the Caucuses and we can’t speak a word of it. He spoke no English.  Overall it worked out well and we had a jolly time.  Bill offered him a tip and he walked away happy.

About 10 minutes later he returned with two sealed bag of clean sheets.  Yes!

Bill and I snacked on red wine and potato chips and quickly fell asleep.

Near the Kyrgyzstan border the steward woke us up and told us to wait….. a half hour later young military men showed up at our door speed talking.  We said something in English to which they asked back “Do you speak Russian?”  Yeah right.

Passport. Check.  Then the young man pointed to my suitcase and grunted.  I opened my suitcase and he was satisfied after a portion of it was emptied.  He motioned to close it, did an about face and left.

Off to sleep again…

At the Kazakhstan border it was a repeat of the whole language barrier, passport scenario…….  It’s now 3:20 am and this time the young military man, holding a small 3”x 3” video camera, demanded that we empty our entire backpacks on the bed and then demanded we open our suitcases and empty them.  The backpack contents were mounded next to us and left no room for the suitcase contents.  So like good passive aggressive people we moved things around and didn’t unload.  He dug into Bill’s suitcase – grunting.  He didn’t put his hands in my bag and gave up after I moved a few things around. Next the immigration man stepped in and did the passport ritual of photos and stamping our books while the first showed back up with the drug sniffing dog.  Geez.

Bill thought he’d be exempt from being hassled at borders because he’s an old guy.  Apparently that was just another case of MSU.

By 4 am we were fast asleep again.  The fumes from the bathroom had thoroughly permeated our cabin.  Nothing like the smell of urine in the morning to make you hop out of bed.

We stood in the hallway in front of the small open window waiting to pull into Shymkent.

We hired their equivalent to Uber to take us to the border so we could do the easy peasy walk through and then grabbed another in Uzbekistan to take us the the capital city of Tashkent.

Uzbekistan is another landlocked country surround by 5 landlocked countries – Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Afghanistan and Turkmenistan.

By luck of the draw we ended up in a hotel with a great location.  Surrounded by tasty restaurants and walking distance (albeit long) to the happening places.

We left Uzbekistan for a day trip to Tajikistan.  Brand new cities were being built outside Tashkent much like China.

We ran into the same Road Scholar group from Kazakhstan in the immigration line at the Tajikistan border! Crazy.

Tajikistan – has a slight different feel of remoteness and less homogeneity, having 2 lengthy borders with China and Afghanistan and serious mountain ranges. This remoteness seems to have slowed its movement toward the west, but not the desire.

Many residents migrate to Russia and work summers harvesting crops.  The local swimming pool is open for men only 6 days a week and women!  About 50% of the city dwellers own car.

Khujand is another 2500 year old city founded by Alexander the Great and built on an 8th century BC fortress and is the eastern most point of his empire.  During the Russian era it was known as Leninbad.  The army of Genghis Khan later destroyed the town and razed it to the ground.  The revival of the city was aided by its geographical position on the Silk Road. 

Portion of the original wall built by Alexander the Great

It has a fabulous Alexander the Great fortress,  museum and caravanserai.

On a side note –  the capital of Dushanbe is home of the famous Buddha in Nirvana or Sleeping Buddha statue founded in 1959 and dating back to the 5th or 6th century.  It is the largest clay Buddha statue in the world.  America contributed $30,000 toward its restoration.

p.s. The blog is pretty much caught up.  As of May 26th we’re still in Uzbekistan. Tomorrow is Bill’s birthday!

Kyrgyzstan

We contacted a company (all done by What’sApp) to arrange a driver from Almaty, Kazakhstan to the border of Kyrgyzstan and then another driver on the Kyrgyzstan side to take us to the capital city of Bishkek.

Our first non-English speaking driver had a black Camry that was huge (unlike American Camrys) with leather seats and more bells and whistles than typical – the back seats had electronic reclining adjustments.  Very unusual and especially for the price we paid.  His mission was to get us there in half the time it should take. Time is money!  Poor Bill had to ask him  to slow down to help curb my fear of crashing.

The two driver system is genius because the line of cars at the border was insanely long.  We just walked on through easy peasy.

The driver on the other side surprisingly spoke English.  He had taken it in school 20 years ago and said he was rusty for lack of using it.  It was the first time in many, many countries that a driver/cabbie could communicate with us.

Kyrgyzstan is another landlocked country in Central Asia.  It borders Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan and China.

Bishkek is another spread-out city with virtually no beautiful historical buildings.  It looked and felt like a throwback to Soviet times.  The one thing it did have was a long walking park with tall trees and gorgeous roses in full bloom. It included a vast carnival and kiddie park, selling cotton candy at 10 am.

Groups of old men gather in the squares around the old soviet buildings – squatting on their heels ala Viet Nam.

Adorable are the older women with colorful scarves wrapped around their hair.  Usually contrasting the colors of their dress  to make it visually interesting and beautiful.

Zhang Qian crossed near here and documented his travels in 138 B.C.

Numerous Buddhist and Muslim rock inscriptions surround mosques, temples and Christian churches from the 800s through the 1600s.

The natural light hit this painting perfectly

In town a vast and bustling market remains. Outside the city nomadic tribes live in their yurts and move, livestock among the foothills and steppes.

 

We’re wearing out the treads on our shoes as we explore.

 

 

Kazakhstan

Officially known as the Republic of Kazakhstan.  It borders Russia, China, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan and the Caspian Sea – phew that’s a lot of borders.  It’s the world’s largest landlocked country.

We fly into Almaty, the former capital.  Expansive and not so easy to navigate all the highlights on foot unless you’re masochists like us. Most people travel to Kazakhstan to play in the mountains.

Almaty is not a picturesque architecture wise but the stunning snow filled Alatau mountains that nearly surround the city are breathtaking.

Our mission was to follow as much of the Silk Road as possible so we headed east toward China.

The Silk Road spread to fundamental products – commerce and religion.

We have followed the road in China to Xi’an and Chengdu, but we are missing the vast west of China which we hope to fill in next year.  The missing portion is replete with ancient Buddhist art.

But lo and behold near the Chinese border we saw a Buddhist temple which is a Mosque.  It was strange to behold.  As we wondered around seeing obvious physical evidence to each religion.  It also included a small museum of Silk Road artifacts.

As we left the border the sky darkened and near the Big Tree called Ulken Agash we were inundated by a beautiful thunder storm with rain and hail rendering us soaked to the bone. This tree was frequented by Silk Road businessmen who believed that walking around it seven times would bring them luck.

Aisan and Iden. Aisan worked at the reception desk and joined us. Iden was the brother of a friend who drove.

We returned west across the Altyn Emel National Park which scenery was spectacular, with wide  lush valleys dotted with Silk Road cemeteries, cattle, horses, sheep, goats, donkeys and red poppies.  It reminded us of Northwestern Elko County.

Gas lines are run above ground.

Our walking journey in Almaty took us to the Russian Othrodox Ascension Cathedral where we ran into a Road Scholar tour.  The first Americans we’ve seen since leaving Dubai.

Bill continues to whoop me playing rummy 500.  We’re having a blast exploring with the best of the Silk Road yet to come…

 

Azerbaijan

Azerbaijan is in the South Caucasus region and is surrounded by Russia, Georgia, Türkiye, Iran and the Caspian Sea.   

After being warned in Armenia and subsequently reading online, we were prepared to be hassled upon arrival since we have an Armenian stamp in our passports.  You’re either with us or against us in our continuing border war. Immigration was supposed to grill us, inventory our medicine with prescriptions, count our money, prove our hotel AND flight out of the country and perhaps deny us entry.

Fake news – I say!  Immigration and customs was a breeze.  No questions asked.  Welcome to Azerbaijan!

As we flew over the capital city of Baku it looked parched and dry but the city couldn’t have been more different on the ground.

Not sure if it had anything to do with it being a week after the Formula 1 race but the city is stunning!  Baku rests 92 feet below sea level.  The lowest national city in the world and the largest city below sea level.

Lonely Planets describes it as “the architectural love child of Paris and Dubai”,  and  one of the fastest changing cities in the world. It’s a great combination of old and new architecture.

We stayed within the ancient walled city – an UNESCO World Heritage site.  A wonderful place to get lost in its narrowing winding alleyways. Sandstone buildings and cobblestone roads make for warm, nostalgic feelings.

Just outside the wall are parks with huge fountains and stunning landscaping.  Metropolitan with a few suburban qualities.

On the shore of the Caspian Sea, which I learned is a huge lake and historically may have been connected to the Black Sea, is a long and wide promenade with views of modern glass buildings and the old town.

In Bill’s adventure to follow the Silk Road we drove to the Caucasus mountain town of Sheki – an important city that welcomed merchants and travellers from all over the world, founded in the 1st century BC.  We walked the grounds of another caravanserai which now functions as a museum and hotel and the UNESCO site of Sheki Kahn Palace. The Way came from Tabriz and passed on to Sinhnaghi in Georgia.  Up the road is the village of Kish.  Here, built over a pagan temple, sits the oldest Albanian Orthodox Church, built perhaps in 50-60 A.D. .  The convent, walled grounds and access road are built of river rock, and all still used and well-maintained.  This church, begun by disciple Elishe, is probably the oldest Christian church in Central Asia, a vast area under Albanian control (no relation to Eastern European Albania) before Turkic, Macedonian and Mongol (then Russia) took turns invading and destroying much of the ancient civilization.

The balance of the valleys and foothills are verdant with grapes, apples and wheat growing over hill and dale.

Similar to Armenia and Georgia sheep and cows are watched by shepherds as there are no fences.

Natural gas burning in the desert sand was mystical to early inhabitants.  A massive gas field discovery in recent years is fueling the flame of progress.  The Flame Towers symbolize the country’s close relationship with fire.

On a side note:  the airport is beautiful.  They have these sleeping pods available for free and these “Cocoons” are filled with stores and restaurants.

The Country of Georgia

Back to Armenia for a second (Bill is chiming in).  We flew over Iran nearly the entire trip from Dubai to Armenia.  I don’t think U.S. carriers do.  Along the way we had a magnificent view of Mt. Ararat.  If you see that speck in Paige’s photo it might be Noah’s Ark.

Now to Georgia – at the intersection of Eastern Europe and Western Asia (Caucasus region) bordering the Black Sea, Russia, Turkey, Armenia and Azerbaijan.

The capital of Tbilisi is yet again a city reminiscent of Europe, conceivably a bit fancier than Yerevan.

*click on photos to enlarge

The city’s name is derived from the Georgian word “tbili,” meaning warm, perhaps a nod to their famous sulfur baths founded in the 5th century.

On the banks of the Kura River which divides the city, cliffs and hills overlook the tall sycamore trees that line the streets. Tiny alleyways are filled with quaint al fresco restaurants uniquely decorated.

Old books are displayed on any flat surface waiting to be purchased by the non-digital reader.

Underground passageways allow people to cross the street safely, avoid inclement weather and shop at the same time.  They’re brilliant!

The food might be our favorite so far – rich, creamy, spicy, garlicky and delicious.  Like French bread is to France – Shoti bread is to Georgia.   Tasty and soft in the middle with crispy edges, moon shaped and made in tandoor ovens.

The dinner crowd steps out late like in Spain but unlike Spain dining is available all day.

Our guide said it’s the world’s oldest makers of wine but the internet and maybe the discovery of the winery in the Armenian cave might challenge that.  However, UNESCO added their ancient and traditional winemaking method, using the Kvevri clay pots (stored in the ground) to their Intangible Cultural Heritage List in 2013.

Left-over grapes are used to make cha-cha, a clear grappa type drink that tastes like gasoline.  Wine and cha-cha are sold everywhere from fancy stores to tiny homemade kiosks.

The under 30 crowd looked like a throw back from Berlin some 30 years ago wearing funky black clothes and Doc Marten’s.

Smoking must be a National pastime as everyone seemed  to have a cigarette dangling off the edge of their lips or pressed between their fingers.

Feral dogs are tagged to show they have been sterilized.  Seems a humane way to address the dog problem.

The tiny walled city of Sighnaghi is a must see.  Reminiscent of Italy with stone terra-cotta roofed buildings dating back to the 17th century lining narrow windy streets.  The Alazani valley and Caucasus mountain views are stunning.  This is a Silk Road stop, with the 4th century Bodbe  Convent (church), walled city and caravansarie overlooking the valley below, the Caucasus mountains and Russia in the distance.

The country’s sweet – churchkhela

Miscellaneous from Tbilisi and beyond…

Armenia

Armenia – a landlocked country in Western Asia (Caucasus region), sharing its borders with Turkey, Georgia, Iran and Azerbaijan.

Azerbaijan and Armenia are bitter rivals disputing their territory since the 1980’s.  Their current war is in the Nagorno-Karabakh border area.  All of Azerbaijan’s borders are closed to land travel.

We had been using a tourist map that showed areas of Armenia denoting treasured historical and fascinating places to see.

Compare maps:

Tourist map we got from the hotel
Internet version showing it’s Azerbaijan

On our drive to Goris our non-English speaking driver pointed out large amounts of dirt bunkers and with his hands mimicked holding a rifle and made a shooting sound and said Azerbaijan.  Upon searching the internet we realized that we were 100 miles from the conflict area.  Click here to read about it.

*click on photos to enlarge

 We’ve since learned that our passage to Azerbaijan is going to be tenuous once they see Armenian stamps in our passports.  It is understood that we’ll get in but will have to prove we weren’t in this disputed region.

Back to the fun stuff – wowza. The capital city of Yerevan is like a European city with stunning architecture, walking friendly, fabulous sidewalk cafes, parks and decorative fountains galore (most of which were being turned on the day before we left).  It felt very family oriented with parks offering rides and games for children.  Don’t get me wrong old USSR is present but the European charm shines beyond it.

The small Russian Lada cars are commonplace and reminded me of an old times.  Like the old American cars in Havana.

On a clear day you can see Mt. Ararat and said to be the resting place of Noah’s Ark.

It was fascinating to learn that it was here in 301 AD when Gregory the Illuminator converted paganism into Christianity making it the first state to adopt Christianity as their religion.  It was a beautiful but tragic story leading to Gregory being thrown into a pit at Khor Virap for 13 years (I climbed down a long narrow ladder 197’ deep, inside the church, to witness this deep dungeon) only to be removed to save the king from utter madness and change the course of history.  The story reads better than fiction and I encourage you to click on this link  to read about it.

There are stories after stories about Jesus, martyrs, Saints, war, genocide.  The churches (Monasteries) are plentiful, grand and magnificent.

Geghard Monastery (the Monastery of the Spear) is a UNESCO World Heritage site.  Carved out of the rocks and allegedly where Jude (Thaddeus) brought and stored the spear that wounded Jesus.

The countryside is stunning.  We’re so lucky to be here when’s it’s green.

Yes! We drove on this road.

Some tid-bits:

  • In the country gas lines are run in pipes above ground.
  • Pulpulka drinking fountains bubble fresh drinking water 24/7 (Armenia is known to have the freshest, clean and natural  drinking water).
  • The soil is rocky and lacking trees.
  • They having a thriving wine industry.  In 2008 wine pots were discovered in a cave dating back some 6,100 years making this the oldest known winery.
  • Small cow herds roam the country and are watched by shepherds.
  • Women (mostly younger) worn oversized blazer.  Perhaps it’s back in season?
  • They believe they escaped COVID by drinking vodka!
    Fruit juice contains fruit

 

Lavash made the old traditional way in the countryside and newer more automated way elsewhere.

It was all enchanting and captivating!  Highly recommended.

Dubai, UAE

Dubai is the city of superlatives.

The – best, largest, biggest, tallest, luxurious, richest,, iconic, uniquest, fastest, cleanest, most-est…

We stayed at the Marina Sheraton (filled with Russian guests), nine stories tall.  Ten years ago we stayed at the Ritz Carlton, four stories tall.  These hotels are now absolutely dwarfed by dozens and dozens of 30 -100 story neighbors but they both have vast private lawns and beaches; and are reminiscent of the Raffles in Singapore and the Metropole in Hanoi, symbols of a bygone era in travel.

On Dubai Creek – a U-shaped nine mile long inlet – is the old quarters. Amongst everything you’ll find gypsum and coral buildings, gold and spice souks, textiles and wooden dhow boats delivering goods and merchandise to the Middle East and North Africa.  The lack of everything tall and big is a contrast to the new Dubai.  Contrary to the balance of the Emirates, only 1% of Dubai’s annual revenues come from oil and gas.  It is sustaining and succeeding on returns from shipping, logistics, finance and tourism.

Dubai’s population is just over 3,000,000 with approximately 15% being UAE nationals, the rest are expats. Islam is the state religion.

Nationals wear traditional clothing – women, the Abaya (long cloak – mostly in black) with a hijab and men, the Kandura (long cloak with long sleeves – white in the summer and darker colors in the winter) and the ghutrah (head-dress). 

On the contrary women were wearing clothing so revealing that it left nothing to the imagination – g-string bathing suits were the rage on the beach – worn by young women to old ladies!

With the cruise in the rear mirror we now have the time and freedom to explore at our pace.

 

 

Oh Man! Oman

Forming the N/E portion of the Arabian peninsula, we are across the Gulf of Oman from Iran, and our stop at Salalah is approximately 30 miles up the coast from Yemen, neither one of which are current feel good spots for Americans. The mountains, arroyos and blue water remind us of southern Baja – I guess it’s called a desert.

Oman is also our first contact with Marco Polo country, since he stopped here, returning to Venice by sea from one of his trips to China.

Salalah is the world’s historic source of frankincense, brought to the birth of Jesus by the three kings and delivered to Zanzibar and India by early sailor/traders.

Our cabbie for the day, Noah, just became a father the previous day, adding to his children, who are 25, 24, 14 and 12.

We drove into the mountains to see Job’s tomb, crowded because it was a post Ramadan holiday.

Along the way, we passed literally hundreds of acres of a festival site, which occur annually over a month or two. By its size it must dwarf Coachella or Burning Man.

Hotel sized homes dotted the road.  The size accommodates a wealthy man, his multiple wives and children.

The desert and foothills were scattered with camels, domestic and wild. They control the roads, since there are no fences.

The capital, Muscat, is a dead ringer for Indian Wells, California. Date palms, and bougainvillea, Mount Eisenhower and the Living Desert, no high-rises, just white-washed villas and green lawns – tiled palaces and mosques, with the Sultan’s two yachts bobbing in the harbor.

The current Sultan deposed his father in the 1970s and has used his oil and gas dollars to create a clean attractive capital, which has half the population of Oman.

With the exception of a few old stone forts, the development is all post 1970.

Large roads, cut through the coastal range to allow expansion of the city inland, keeping the port village, small and quaint. Inland the row of car dealerships line up, like Los Angeles, including all the exotic manufacturers.

A planned community with a planned economy, and with total iron fisted control, which results in this kind of eye candy, is almost tempting to endorse.

Seychelles

Seychelles – a place I have longed to visit but it was so far away from anywhere (the closet airport is 7 hours from the east coast of Africa) that I figured it wasn’t in the cards.

Lo and behold it appeared on an African cruise itinerary.

Comprising of 115 islands.  The flora and fauna, the humidity and the turtle doves reminded us of Hawaii.

Mahé is the largest island in the Seychelles  – 60.7 square miles – population is approximately 95,000. and 86% of the country lives on  this island.

The town of Victoria was walking distance from the port.  We soaked in the local life as we sweated like an icy glass of water in the hot sun.

*click on photos to enlarge

The beaches are the draw.  My mission was to get us to Beau Vallon Beach on the other side of the island.

I’m the one with the cheap gene in the family – passed down for generations.  Uncharacteristically Bill decided that a $25 taxi fare to the beach was absurd for the sign said it was only 4K away.

After asking multiple taxi drivers the cost he exclaimed to the last one that we would walk.  The man pointed to the mountain in front of us and said no you won’t.

As Confucius says “Roads were made for journeys not destinations.”

Second option was taking the local bus to the beach.  We managed to jump on a full bus ready to depart the station. Being the last passengers on board the only option was a standing position by the driver.

Bill said “We can stand – it’s only 4 clicks”.

Oh but wait – it was rush hour.  Bumper to bumper traffic that moved slower than a snail. Forget the 4 clicks which was way wrong – the amount of time spent standing with my backpack weighing me down and packed in like sardines had sweat dripping down my face hindering my sight.  Pools of water seeped from every pore.  The fellow passengers wouldn’t make eye contact.  They had to assume I was sick with some disease.

After finally breaking free from the traffic jam our driver went peddle to the metal and climbed the tight mountain curves (with no shoulder) throwing the two of us around like a sack of potatoes.  We white knuckled the bars to keep ourselves upright at the same time giggling like school kids. The rest of the bus remained silent.

Unbelievably, the driver stopped three more times and allowed more passengers to board.  How the bus absorbed them was a mystery.  It just added to the heat.  The open windows offered no relief.

What goes up must come down.  I don’t know if it has harder hanging on going up or down.

All the people at the front of the bus must have known which beach we were heading to because when the driver stopped we were told it was our time to get off.

Phew.  All that excitement for a $1.50!!!

The beach was lovely.  White sand and clear warm water.

Our cruise wasn’t leaving until 4 am and this allowed us to have a beautiful beach-front sunset dinner with cocktails.

By the time dinner was over the busses had stopped operating so we paid $20 for a taxi ride back to the port! HA!

The next day we arrived at La Digue – the 4th largest island – population 2,800 and 3.89 square miles.

Now this is what I saw in photos.  An oasis – where tall mountains are blanketed in tropical green.  Huge rock formations are scattered on the white sand beaches and the Indian Ocean is crystal clear. Coral reefs make beautiful designs below the water’s surface.

It is home to one of the most photographed beaches in the world – Anse Source d’Argent.

Bicycles are the popular form of transportation and personal vehicles are scarce.

Poor Bill had to pedal in the heat of the day so I too could photograph the most popular beach.

Popular = people.  Too many for any special photos.

We peddled to a quiet beach where we could leave the camera, phones, etc and do what was really most important – wading in the Indian Ocean until our fingers became pruney.

Nosy Be, Madagascar

Nosy Be (means big island in Malagasy) is located an half mile off the Northwest coast of Madagascar – it’s 123.56 square miles and is the number one beach destination for the country.  Malagasy and French are spoken here.

The cruise boat offered a shuttle to the commercial district. The main street is lined with restaurants and larger stores where as the side streets are filled with small booths, one next to another as far as the eye scan see selling every type of goods (mostly from China) and food that you can imagine.  Tuk tuks swarm like bees.

Some shopkeepers squatted in their stores engulfed by their products while others sat out in front chit chatting with friends and family and enticing consumers to buy.

Along with a fellow cruiser (from Thailand by way of Santa Barbara) we hired a tuk-tuk for the ride to the “best “ beach.

The road was riddled with large pot holes. The tuk-tuks bobbed and weaved in a perfectly corrugated dance to avoid the volcano sized holes, occasionally being confronted by a massive truck approaching in the opposite direction. All this around a huge road construction project. Utter chaos.

The countryside is lush and tropical. Small wooden stick homes reveal poverty where most people live on the equivalent of $1 USD per day.

Suddenly hotels, restaurants and PADI dive shops started popping up a sign that we were getting closer to the beach.

The water is getting bluer as we head north but we’ve yet to see the turquoise water advertised on the internet.  Supposedly Nosy Be has offers that as well but traveling there required a drive longer than our time allowed. 

It was all exciting and colorful.

Police busting the hawkers

We hopped on a cruise…

We were “COVID-ed out” of a large portion of our African itinerary 18 months ago. Remarkably, Paige hooked us up with a three week stint on an Oceania world cruise (600 passengers) which got us most of what we had been denied in addition to some island countries and a surprise, ending in Dubai, a perfect gateway to Central Asia.

First stop – Mossel Bay, South Africa. According to Lonely Planet it’s the ugly sister of the Garden Route.

The Garden Route is on South Africa’s “must see” list for its natural beauty – from Mossel Bay to Port Elizabeth – offering lagoons, lakes, mountains, forests and beaches.

*** click on photos to enlarge

Since cruise excursions are not our style we ventured off on our own hoofing it uphill to Marsh Street – the main thoroughfare. Our mending calves still remind us of our downhill hike. We stopped for a brief time to listen to the Stations of the Cross being recited at the Anglican church then off to look for a lunch spot. Most places were closed because it was Good Friday. Thank goodness because the one restaurant that was open served the most delicious chicken and leek quiche.

Continuing on to the lighthouse we stumbled upon hundreds of campers in tarp covered tents and RVs smooshed in like sardines on Easter holiday. A treasure trove of ocean tide pools had children and adults scouring for a golden nugget.

Durban – South Africa’s third largest city and claims the largest concentration of Indians living outside of India.

Archaeologists have evidence that Durban has been inhabited by hunter gatherers since 100,000 BC.

We stuck to the beach area walking along the shore and the rambling promenade known as the Golden Mile that stretches for over two miles. It was lengthened leading up to the 2010 FIFA World Cup. Perhaps they should rename it the Golden Miles…

The faintest coastal haze painted the horizon but that didn’t stop the sun from beating down. It was the warmest temperature we’ve experienced since last October in Charleston. The breeze off the Indian Ocean made it tolerable.

Lifeguards cordon off areas to indicate safe swimming zones keeping people away from the strong riptides. Beyond the break a net protects the area from the great white shark population.

Our last stop was Richard’s Bay – the busiest port in South Africa. We have nothing interesting to report other than we bought toothpaste and toothbrushes!

Upon recommendation from a gentleman that we met in Lesotho I took time to read Invictus: Nelson Mandela and the Game That Made a Nation. A fabulous read!

We say goodbye to South Africa after three weeks.

And we’re off to Cape Town

We left Maseru, Lesotho around 7:30 pm. After a long drive out and back from the falls our driver wanted to stop by his home to grab some clothes and to drop off his 9 mm handgun (later disclosed).

Two hours later we arrived at our hotel in Bloemfontein, South Africa. Thank goodness the restaurant was still open.

JRR Tolkien, the author of the Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings was born here. However, he moved to England when he was three.

We didn’t have time to explore and we’re off to Beaufort West in the Karoo National Forest – the half point on our drive to Cape Town.

Long gone are the green mountains of Lesotho. It feels like we were transported back to our home state of Nevada – desert and brown. The only difference was the flat top mountains. Although it’s the end of March it’s more like October as they’re heading into winter.

The highway is free of potholes and we are on a mission to get to our next destination. After stops for bathroom breaks, approximately 7 hours later, we rolled into the quaint town of Beaufort West. Old Colonial buildings lined the main road.

This is home town to Christiaan Barnard who, in December 1967, performed the world’s first human heart to heart transplant. Imagine that. Such a feat of medical science in a tiny town in South Africa!

We stayed at the Savoy Hotel equipped with an American diner in its lobby.

Tonight we experienced the power load shedding that has blanketed the country. At 8:00 pm the power shut off. A safety light remained on in the bathroom but otherwise it was dark. So much for charging our devices. We’re pioneers – who needs power?

Power was off and on in the night and in when we left for our last leg of the trip.

It again was startling how similar the landscape was to home until we entered the wine country where vineyard blanketed the horizon. The best advertisement for thirsty travelers.

We said our goodbyes to Stephen in Cape Town, our guide for the past several days. He took good care of us and never lacked for a story to tell. I will give you his information if you decide to go to Lesotho.

*** Thank you for all your kind comments. I want you to know that I am receiving them and I respond to each one. It appears that you are not receiving the replies. I apologize and will see if there is a fix.

More Photos of Lesotho

Photos were taken through the window, out the window, me sitting in the window – legs in body out (the police had a grin when they drove by), through the sunroof and pulled over and out of the car.

Boys go through an initiation to become a man and they paint their animals and face as part of the process.
Oh, their hats…


We visited a yarn manufacturing store.  The owner teaches disabled people (all women but one man) how to make item yarn so that they have a skill.

School

Lesotho – The Kingdom in the Sky

Our new driver arrived as the sun started to kiss the morning with a stunning display of pink, yellow and baby blue. It was 6:00 am. The sweet receptionist made us a road trip bag with an egg, cheese and tomato sandwich, fruit drink and an apple.

Today we head to the country of Lesotho (sounds like Lay-sue-to) surrounded by South Africa. They too have a king but unlike Eswatini he is a hood ornament and the Prime Minister is the head of government. The country gained its full independence from British rule in 1966.

The first King Moshoeshoe from the early 1800’s had 144 wives! The cuenta king has one.

Lesotho has the highest mountains in Southern Africa and it’s lowest elevation of 4,593’ is the highest low point of any country in the world. Say what?

Normally I am very unsettled when riding on roads with steep drop-offs but having seen photos of the Sani Pass I was all about it! Bill was shocked!

Per Wikipedia: The route up Sani Pass starts at 1,544 metres (5,066 ft), and climbs 1,332 m (4,370 ft) to an altitude of 2,876 m (9,436 ft).

*click on photos to enlarge 

It requires a 4×4 as the road is unpaved, rocky and full of switchbacks. The South African border is near the bottom of the pass then a 5 mile drive through no-mans-land got us to the Lesotho border at the top. It took us an hour. The mountains look like velvet blanketed by the morning sun. Jaw dropping and stunning.

We were so lucky to have navigated the whole pass without coming in contact with another vehicle.

Top of the pass:

We passed a winter ski area and the beginnings of a large dam (a 3 Gorges scale) and literally hundreds of shepherds with their small flocks of cattle, Marino sheep or Angora goats.

We continued on another four plus hours to the Maliba Lodge in the Tsehlanyane National Park where we got to lounge for two nights. A welcome break from all the drive time.

View from our room.

A new driver and his apprentice picked us up in the morning and we headed out to explore the countryside. It’s incredible. The green undulating mountains are endless.

Rural life is tough. Homes are small and made of stone or cement mostly with no running water and power. They are lucky to own a donkey or horse for transportation otherwise they get around on foot or by taxi or small van busses.

This is not true of the whole country. Suburban areas have better access to utilities and perhaps 20% own cars.

Tiny buildings (shacks) have tall poles with colored plastic bags waving in the wind displaying what they have for sale that day. White means beer (locally made and super strong) and bread, green means vegetables and red means meat.

School children can walk upwards of two plus hours to get to school. Whizzing down the road is more frightening than the Sani Pass. We come within inches of school children, walkers or head boys (Shepards) with flocks of sheep or herds of cattle who all casually take up their fair share of the road space.

The mountains ooze water making them glisten like diamonds. Speaking of diamonds. Lesotho is a leading producer of diamonds in the world and sets a record for having the highest diamond mine in the world.

We took a small hike down to see the Kome Caves. Built in 1824. There are 6 separate single room caves in the side of the mountain insulated with mud and cow dung. We were told that the original families used these to hide from the cannibals. One descendent still lives in one of the caves. We met her on her way back from a long steep hike to buy paraffin wax so that she could heat her dinner. There is no power and water dripping off of the overhanging cliff is collected in a barrel. Lucky outdoor bathrooms were recently installed since this has become a tourist destination.

We stayed one night in the capital city of Maseru arriving in time for dinner where we were the only people at the hotel restaurant.

Workers leaving the city create bumper to bumper traffic lasting for hours. It was crazy watching the madness as the cars and walkers managed intersections. Chaos!

The road to Semonkong was like driving a rollercoaster with a slow click, click, click to reach the high peaks and the thrill of dropping and turning as we made our way to the Maletsunyane Falls. The 670 feet drop next to the falls has a spot in the Guinness World Record book for having the longest commercially operated single-drop rappel in the world.

Lesotho is not on the world’s tourism radar and they are taking baby steps to change that. It’s so low that can go through immigration at the border faster than getting a hamburger at McDonalds.

I highly recommend to anyone going to see South Africa that you take a few days to explore this magnificent country. The scenery is like no other.

 

The Kingdom of Eswatini

I ate some humble pie this morning as I face planted it in the hotel lobby. On the phone, and walking with my heavy pack on, I twisted my ankle (which I’m famous for doing ) and was unable to stop the slow motion fall. I heard the workers in the reception area gasp and then come running. There was no hiding.

Since we’ve never driven on the right hand side of the road we hired a driver to take us to Eswatini.  

It was a zigzaggy climb out of Johannesburg. Condos became homes – smaller than the ones upon entry but equally guarded by razor or electrical fencing.

The first stop was to get gas. Everyone left their cars running as the attendant pumped the gas. Fumes filled our lungs and I prayed we wouldn’t explode.

The hills became rich farmland with corn fields as far as the eye could see. It remained constant for a couple hours until we exited the N1 highway for a smaller 2 lane country road. Farmland gave way to man made eucalyptus and pine tree forests for miles on end. 

*click on photos to enlarge (many are life outside the car’s window)

Swaziland was renamed Eswatini (which t he locals have not embraced) in 2018 when the king celebrated the country’s 50th year of independence and his 50th birthday. We’re told he currently has 13 wives and 35 children. He rules the country with ultimate power unlike the British monarchy.

Our driver also told us that in Eswatini a man can not buy farm land (acreage) unless he has a wife. Marinate on that for awhile…

Mbabane is the condensed capital city which rests in the bottom of an old mine. Thankfully we stayed in Lobamba in the Ezulwini Valley where the area is dense with greenery reminiscent of Asia.  Per the hotel’s write up we were tucked beneath Sheba’s Breast Mountain. 

The central and most inhabited areas of Eswatini are surrounded by 360 degrees of mountains and farm land in the Valley.

The next day we toured the high points of Eswatini and visited a homestead where Bill helped Grandma get the chicken ready to become lunch. Fetching water for their home from the tap up the hill tested our strength after being sedentary for the past month.  I was encouraged to carry a pail full of water on my head which is customary.  I barely could lift it with my hands and could only imagine my neck bones crushing under the weight.  If only he had made the suggestion when it was empty!

Upon exiting the country and going back into South Africa the border guard, with a big smile on his face, asked if we smoked ganja. He was serious and then greatly disappointed when we said no. Although illegal in Swaziland it is known to grow the best marijuana in all the region.

It was until 2:00 pm that we started our 9 hour drive to Underberg, South Africa. The roads are riddled with potholes and make driving tenuous. We were in the car 14 hours – arriving in Underberg at 11:00 pm. Our next driver would pick us up in 7 hours…

Sawubona from Johannesburg

It was a balmy 83 degrees when we landed. Paradise.

The evening brought a stunning show of thunder, lightning and heavy rains.

Delta Airlines out of Atlanta got us to Johannesburg in 15 hours. It was our first lengthy international flight on a domestic carrier. We were pleased.

The drive from the airport to the hotel was lined with big beautiful homes behind tall concrete fences with 18” of electrical wiring at the top.

Unbeknownst to us our hotel was located in Melrose Arch – a new walkable urban development that has hotels, shops, restaurants/bars and condo living. It’s all completely fenced with lots of security guards wandering about. It didn’t feel like the “real” Johannesburg but allowed us to walk around feeling safer.  We ventured out to explore during the day.

Unfortunately my camera stayed in the hotel room as we explored the city. I got disciplined twice by a hotel worker in Rosebank for having my cellphone out. The second warning came with his head turning tisk tisk for being so careless. Clearly he didn’t understand that I needed to use Uber.

Like all big cities around the world Johannesburg aka Joburg, Jozi and the City of Gold is bustling. Sidewalks are lined with people on the move and gridlock traffic is a nuisance.

It’s a new city – started only a 137 years ago by the discovery of gold. Once the top gold producer in the world and currently it holds the honor of having the deepest gold mine extending 2.5 miles underground. Some sister love to our home state of Nevada which produces 78% of all gold mined in the United States.

Joburg also has the honor of having the largest “urban” man made forest in the world with over 10 million trees! It’s remarkable.

Strange are the number of abandoned buildings. We were told that redevelopment plans were halted by covid but it looks like any hope of anything stopped long ago.

Mostly abandoned buildings.

Nelson Mandela is revered by the world but his presence here was palpable. We toured his home in Soweto. Bullet holes pock mark the siding and the remants of an interior wall built by Winnie to shield their children speak of the dangerous time.

There is so much to learn and absorb in this place so terribly victimized by apartheid, poverty and crime. It is all very heart wrenching.

Exploring lends to curiosity, which lends to investigating, which lends to learning, which broadens my knowledge.

The privilege of meeting locals makes it all so worthwhile.