Samarkand to the Iranian border

I left Adrian fettling at the hotel in Samarkand and set off to explore. I walked, and walked and walked and got very lost, but it was all very interesting. I was enmeshed in suburban Samarkand and jolly good it was too. I then started to feel that I was a very long way from anywhere recognisable and so I asked some people if I was going in the right direction to a local landmark. Silly me, I should know by now that everyone likes to help and so, even if they do not understand what I am on about they point vaguely in the direction I am going and nod furiously. I eventually asked two ladies selling flat bread from a pram the way to a big, well known bazaar. They started talking to a woman who was walking past about where I wanted to go and she said to them that she was going there on the bus and that I should wait with her. It is amazing how you can communicate without a single word in common. I waited and ascertained that her name was Muphapet. I asked her how much the fare was and she held up 5 fingers. I assumed she meant 5 sum, about £2, this made her fall about with laughter and tell all whom were passing. The bus came with about 5 times as many people on it as seats and on we squeezed. The fare was actually 5 squirty bits of sum for both of us. The bus continued to pick up even more passengers and there was great hilarity about me being on board. We arrived at our stop and then had to cross the road to enter the bazaar. My new friend obviously thought me far too stupid to cross on my own and grabbed me around the waist and ushered me across. We bade a fond farewell by the onions and off I went. It was a great market. Quite new and clean but full of colour and amazing things. The produce was fantastic; everything looked so fresh and high quality. There were melons so big it almost took two people to lift them, massive pomegranates and huge piles of nuts and dried fruit. It was all very hectic and marvellous.

The bazaar was next to the Registan and so I was found again, thanks to Muphapet. Flowing out from the bazaar was a pedestrian complex with some shops and cafes and it was all very pleasant. It very new and well laid out with well watered lawns and all immaculately clean. The shopkeeper's were all very relaxed and there was no pressure. The traditional clothes are wonderful in Uzbekistan; fabulous coats, some intricately, hand embroidered were the main attraction for me. Expect your author to be seen in one on her return to to Oxfordshire.

I then explored the Registan in more detail. It s a stunning collection of Islamic medieval architecture. There facades and cupolas are covered with inlay of azure and cobalt glazes tiling. The whole is dazzling. The free standing minarets and other structures all have a slight y drunken look because of the many earthquakes the area endures but are in remarkably good condition. Some of the renovations are of dubious quality though and it is danger of the crime of over restoration.

I made my way back towards the hotel and spotted a door, slightly ajar full of brides and excitable women. Of course, I had to take a look and thus had another bridal encounter. It was a bride preparation shop. Four girls, all ready for their weddings,were surrounded by all their female relatives who were inspecting them carefully. There were rows of dresses to choose from, a manicurist, hairdresser and make-up artists. They all looked like dolls with enormous crinoline frocks and very big hair. The demaquillage was outrageously over the top and their faces were covered with crystals. All the other women were in their best flowery frocks and also had crystals on their eyebrows but were very careful to not to outshine the bride. I took some photos of them all which they were all keen to see, wished them well and left. They had not seemed to mind at all that I had just walked in and, as seems to the case with all Uzbek's, were very welcoming. Luckily, Adrian finished the car in good time and was able to explore too.

Uzbekistan really surprised us. It was a total contrast to Kazakhsatn and far more engaging. So, the next morning we set off for the Turkmenistan border and it was farewell to Uzbekiistan. Farewell to endless cotton fields, watermelon sellers, exceptionally friendly, warm people, men rocking great hats, urbane Tashkent and fabulous Samarkand. Uzbekistan, you were a revelation.

Turkmenistan: Crossing over into Turkmenistan was not too chaotic. We had been warned that it was likely to be very difficult but it turned out to be reasonable. It was very hot; 80% of the country is desert.; the Karakum. Our overnight stop, Turkmenabat ,was not too far and wasa very grand looking white marble edifice with fantastic cold war service. Mrs Charm on the reception desk could not have been less helpful but, it was clean and the beer was cold. Turkmenbashi, the now late President, was a megalomaniac dictator who, with oil revenue created the most bizzare country you have ever seen. The population is a tiny 5 million and, as it is mostly desert, most people live in the very few towns. He was obsessed with white marble even though there is none in the country. Gleaming new buildings abound obth in Turmenabat and, most of all in Ashqabat, the capital, and where we spent our second night. It is a police state and we were warned that our rooms would probably be bugged - how thrilling! There are many downsides to this, of course. There seems to be a fear among the population who have none of the spontaneous warmth of the Uzbek's. The streets are sterile, very clean but soulless and the architecture has to be seen to be believed.

In Ashqabat the staggering scale of new build astounds. Street after street of enormous, marble buildings, many empty, line wide boulevards. There are triumphal arches, huge, fountains, and endless statues of the late leader all showing him in different guises as a hunter, fisherman, warrior etc. You get the picture. It is all bonkers. Ashqabat is without doubt the most unusual capital city you have never heard of. The internet has been unavailable in Turkmenistan and I think, will be non existant in Iran and so goodness knows when I will next post. But, I will keep writing as it happens otherwise I find the days blend.

So, it is with enormous pleasure and excitement that I can say that tomorrow we are entering Iran. I need to say that again for added emphasis, listen now, TOMORROW WE ARE ENTERING IRAN. Those are words that I never thought I would say!