Entering Uzbekistan (not by camel)

Our time in Tajikistan drew to an end and we tried psyching ourselves up for Uzbekistan. We were both a little wary, as we'd heard many negative stories about border guards and police 'shake-downs' of foreigners in Uzbek cities. We were also not too excited about being stuck in cities for the next two weeks. There would be no camping for us in Uzbekistan due to the compulsory registration system where foreigners are required to provide evidence of their accommodation. Apparently this is only required every third night, but we didn't want to take any chances as border officials can make up the rules as they go, especially if you look like a wealthy foreigner. We didn't want to give them any reason to have a problem with us.              

We had heard many bad stories from other travellers about the border guards in Uzbekistan. These were mostly from people exiting Uzbekistan, rather than entering, but still we were a little nervous. To help us with the border crossing we decided to purchase the traditional dress (a kurta) and wear it for the crossing. Given that I'll probably never wear it again I thought I may as well get the most flamboyant one I could find. Just for laughs.

Me in my leopard print kurta. Our driver trying to fix the car in the background after just having crossed the border.

Here are a couple of the horror stories we heard from people when trying to leave Uzbekistan:

A guy from Spain we met at Green House Hostel in Dushanbe said that when he tried to enter Tajikistan from Uzbekistan using the Denau/Tursanzade crossing he was arrested for having prescription medication for back pain. He was taken to the city of Termiz, several hours drive south of the border crossing, was detained for five days, and was required to pay for a lawyer and get blood tests. Eventually he was allowed to cross the border into Tajikistan.

A couple we met on the Pamir Highway had been detained for five days for having prescription medication - for which they had a letter from their doctor back home. I think the medication was some kind of sedative to help with sleep. They also had to pay for a lawyer and were out of pocket more than a thousand dollars once the ordeal was over. They were also crossing the Denau/Tursanzade border. 

This may have something to do with Uzbekistan's relationship with Tajikistan more so than their war on drugs. However, they are very serious about the eradication of drugs, possibly a knee jerk reaction to being a neighbour of Afghanistan, the largest opium producer in the world.

The night before we did the crossing we did a purge of anything that may be considered contraband. We had read online that codeine is illegal in Uzbekistan. We weren't sure if it was true but just in case, it went in the bin. All medication that wasn't in its original packaging, in the bin. All religious or political material from our kindles - deleted. John Piper sermons on my phone - not deleted. There are some things I can't live without.

From Dushanbe it only took around an hour to get to the border where there were several 'illegal' money changers waiting for travellers. In Uzbekistan, all money is changed on the black market due to inflation and other economic problems. Changing on the black market will get you twice as much for your dollar than if you change it at the official money changers, which only really exist in banks or fancy hotels. Even though it's illegal, I liked this system as every hostel owner, taxi driver and street vendor is a money changer. So you never waste time looking for a bank or a money change. If you're motivated enough, you can also negotiate your exchange rate.

Taxi drivers don't go over the border and you have to walk across no man's land from the Tajik to the Uzbek check points. Thankfully, this is only about 100 metres. We got many smiles and comments of "Uzbekski!" from Customs officers and the border guards about our kurtas and it proved to be a really good icebreaker.


The border crossing was incredibly quiet, with hardly anyone around. After getting our visas stamped we entered a final building where we were ushered to the front of the very short line. Big benches waist high rowed each side of the room and we were instructed to put packs on the benches and empty them. Everything came out. Tent, sleeping bag, powdered milk, toiletries, underwear! Everything. They went though our medications asking (in Russian) what everything was for. Our explanations were limited to touching the relevant body part - head or stomach. They went through my kindle, asking what was on it. Then they went through my phone. Photos, videos, music etc. They looked at my play list which contained a lot of John Piper and some Christian music. 'What type of music do you have on here?' I was asked. 'Pop music' I said. 'Do you have anything religious?' My heart skipped a beat. 'I have pop music', I said. She must have seen something to prompt the question but after x-raying my bag and hiking boots she let me go. Whew! 

All up the border crossing probably took about an hour. It was a hassle, with us having to repack our bags in rapid time as there was quite a queue after us by this point, but it all went smoothly.

Now we just had an eight hour car ride ahead of us to get to Bukhara. We got a taxi at the border, plugged into our podcasts (at high volume in order to drown out the loud local pop music that blared from the taxi's speakers), and settled in for what we assumed would be a restful, if long, journey.

Alas, before long we were stopped at a check point and searched again! Despite there being four passengers in the taxi, the local passengers were waved through and Claire and I were taken into a separate room, our packs put on the bench, and were requested to take everything out. Again. 

The guards were two young women who diligently went through every item. One of them picked up my bag of brightly-coloured tampons and with a questioning look indicated she wanted me to explain what they were. It took several attempts with me making lots of hand gestures south of my cervix. Thankfully, Claire then offered the Tajik word for 'blood' and the guard pieced it all together. She went very red, shared some embarrased laughter with her colleague and us, and that was the end of my search. They even helped us pack our bags back up.

We had assumed when we negotiated to go to Bukhara with our taxi driver from the border that he would,  you know, take us to Bukhara. Turns out he had other plans. He pulled over at the town of Karshi, loaded us and our packs into a different taxi, and headed north with his remaining passengers to Samarkand. On a side note, he had tried to convince us several times during our drive that we really wanted to go to Samarkand. We remained adamant that we wanted to go to Bukhara. So he had to pay a portion of our fare to the next driver, and find new customers to fill his car to Samarkand.

All up we changed taxis four times before we reached Bukhara. The driver for the final leg chain-smoked as he drove and Claire spent a lot of that trip with her head out the window getting increasingly headachy and grumpy.

It was after dark when we finally reached Bukhara. For the icing on the cake, it turned out our driver wasn't going to take us to our hotel. He left us near some local taxi drivers, to whom we then had to pay an extra fee to get to our lodgings.

Things improved significantly once we reached our hostel. We stayed at a beautiful B&B called Rustam & Zuxro which had the best breakfasts in Uzbekistan with pastries, fruit, eggs and real coffee.

View of the courtyard at Rustam & Zuxro B&B

We slept in a mixed six person dorm and thankfully we were so exhausted each evening from all the sight seeing that we had no problems sleeping.

I hope you like really old buildings because next post will feature some architectural highlights from Bukhara, Khiva and Samarkand.

Pamir Highway: Part One

The picturesque Tulpur-Kul in Kyrgyzstan.

We stayed in Osh for two nights before hitting the Pamir Highway with our new travel buddy, Kevin from Canada. 

Claire was still feeling unwell but she seemed to be on the improve, having had a few days of rest in Osh.

As soon as we had arrived at the hostel we had written a message on the white board in the courtyard seeking fellow travellers to share a car and the costs of travelling the Pamir Highway.

On our second day, I was hand washing our clothes in the Biy Ordo Hostel laundry when a guy came in and asked 'Are you Chelsea or Claire?'

This was Kevin. He was also wanting to do the route from Osh to Khorog in a 4WD and was looking for fellow travellers to cut costs. He had a proposed itinerary from Osh Guesthouse which included the Ishkashim Saturday market, which Claire was really keen to see. But to get there in time we would have to leave tomorrow. Eek! We didn't have a fourth person to split costs and the quote was US$1,107.85 for the car, driver (including food and board), fuel, and return fuel costs. We had received quotes from two other agencies which were cheaper, but they wanted us to go to Khorog in two days and we wanted a longer trip.

We decided to go with the proposed itinerary from Osh Guesthouse, hoping to pick up a fourth traveller in Murgab. That way, we could start our adventure as soon as possible rather than hang around Osh waiting.

Day One - Osh to Tulpur-Kul

We were picked up promptly at 6:30am by our lovely driver, Danier, and by the time we paid and loaded our gear in the car it was already 7am. A surprisingly smooth five hours later we had arrived at Tulpur-Kul, a lake at the base of Lenin Peak, which stands at 7,134m. The peak is a very popular climb for mountaineers and apparently one of the easiest 7000ers in the world.

There were two or three yurts by the lake and a couple of tents pitched. I spoke briefly to the campers, and they told us they had been there for a horse festival that had taken place at the lake the day before. We had been told that CBT were organising something but unfortunately hadn't made it in time. The campers said around 1,000 people attended and it was a real culture shock. The local horsemen played polo with a goat's head and the festival ended with a brawl. I don't think Claire was sad to have missed it.

Day Two - To Murgab via Sary Moghul

We rose early with beautiful morning views.

Then we headed to Sary Moghul for a quick look around town and to meet the locals.

Soon we were back on the road and heading towards the Tajikistan border. Other travellers had warned us that border officials may search our bags, phones and Kindles, so I diligently deleted everything off my devices that could have caused problems. Anything religious or political. I'm glad to say I didn't have any porn that needed deleting but if you're that way inclined, make sure it's all gone.

The Kyrgyz-Tajik border is a stunning border crossing. Unfortunately, I don't have any photos of it because the men with guns were making me a little nervous. Claire did manage to snap this photo just as we were entering Tajikistan, though.

I'm glad our driver was with us or else I would have been totally confused with showing our passports to several different people within such close distance to one another. And that was just to get out of Kyrgyzstan. Once they stamped our passports, we drove for about twenty minutes before reaching the Tajikistan border. Who owns that land in between? I have no idea.

To my surprise, getting into Tajikistan was just as smooth as leaving Kyrgyzstan. Again, we showed our passport to several different people in close proximity to one another. They stamped it and off we went. I deleted my controversial books for nothing!

The terrain from here to Murgab is incredibly different to Kyrgyzstan. It's rocky and desolate, just like a moonscape. Not at all green like Kyrgyzstan. The Chinese border was on our left for most of the drive. A tall fence with barbed wire sat next to the road blocking China's Pamir mountain range. At several points there were wide gaps in the fence, but I suppose the mountains provide more of a natural barrier than any fence could.

Murgab is the closest thing I've seen to a post-apocalyptic civilisation. The houses are white or mudbrick with low roofs, weak lighting and satellite dishes. As with so many of the houses in Tajikistan, though, while the outside may look stark and desolate, the insides are warm and inviting. Our guesthouse even had a western toilet.

Murgab

Unfortunately, we didn't find a third travel buddy in Murgab to share costs, but I'm glad it was just the three of us. We had to pay more, but we had more space in the car, and could be more flexible with our itinerary only having to please three people instead of four.

Day Three - Murgab to Alichur

Claire's sickness had persisted, so we took the opportunity while we were in a town to go to the doctor. I'm guessing the only doctor in town was at the hospital because our driver took us to the emergency department, which looked more like someone's lounge room. 

The medical resources looked a little dated... or like props from the TV show M.A.S.H.

The doctor finally arrived wearing a white coat, glasses and a moustache. The nurse relayed Claire's symptoms of vomiting and diarrhoea and the doctor wrote on a scrap piece of paper the name of some antibiotics.

The pharmacy was across the road, but we had to wait another thirty minutes for it to open. Claire bought her medication, we grabbed some food from the bazaar and then were back on the road.

The original plan for the day was to do a hike in the Pshart Valley, which looked pretty amazing. But the weather was looking a bit wet and the pass was around 4800m so we decided to give it a miss. Instead we drove through the impressive Kurteskei Valley, headed for the Shakhty petroglyphs.

It's a short but steep climb up the hill before spotting this ancient cave painting of a boar hunt.

I'm not that into history or archaeology, so I was far more impressed by the view of our tiny 4WD in the valley from the petroglyph cave.

From here it's a short drive to the Shor-Bulak observatory which doesn't appear to be in use anymore. But it was an interesting site to take a quick look at.

There was a bit of confusion at this point as we wanted to get back onto the highway by doing a loop, but the driver insisted we had to go back to the way we came because he didn't know the way forward. That was ok with me as the Kurteskei Valley was so beautiful I was happy to see it again.

Back on the highway we made a short detour to visit the little town of Bash Gumbaz where there is a Chinese tomb. Unfortunately, the bridge to get there had either been washed away, collapsed or never existed in the first place. Claire and I decided to stay behind and explore the town while Kevin went the remaining 3km on foot.

The town was set below large scree slopes in a treeless valley, and the mud brick houses had low ceilings and no shade.

Even though it looks barren, dry and not dissimilar to a moonscape, I loved it. The was something about the solitude and simplicity of the town that was beautiful.

Kevin returned after an hour and showed us pictures of the tomb which looked like a little mudbrick minaret. Very cute. The day was getting away from us so we pressed on.

After being back on the highway for 30 minutes or so our driver pulled over next to a large pond. We had no idea why we'd stopped. He threw a few bread crumbs into the irradescant blue water and soon a school of fish emerged.

After consulting the Lonely Planet I realised we were at Ak-Balyk, a holy pond and a fish restaurant disguised as a home. I was getting a bit peckish so we decided to splurge and order some fish.

It was heavily fried which isn't usually my preference but it tasted great.

Back on the road again after our next stop was Alichur, where we would be staying the night. There isn't much in Alichur but our driver took us to a lovely homestay that had a yurt in the back yard. It was a very windy night but Claire and I were keen to camp anyway. We had a look around and found some old ruins which offered good protection from the wind and pitched for the night.

The next day we planned to head to Langar, with four days on the Pamir still ahead of us, including the Wakhan Valley. I can hardly wait!