Zagreb Vegan Scene: Green Point

In case you couldn’t tell, we weren’t totally loving Uzbekistan. The history was objectively impressive, but the country in general felt a little bit like Tobias and we were his hair plugs: a little like we were not supposed to be there, a little unwelcoming, a little like our presence risked grave medical danger. Okay so maybe not that last part and maybe it’s not the most effective analogy but anyway, that feeling changed with the much more accessible and welcoming Samarkand. Maybe it’s because we had just left Bukhara, which challenged us to love it while doing whatever it could to stop us from loving it, but Samarkand stood out as the one place in Uzbekistan that felt enjoyable, comfortable, and welcoming, at least by Uzbek standards. 

A city that may date back to the 8th century BC (I mean we all may date back to the 8th century BC but a lot of historians believe that’s how old it is), Samarkand was once the capital of the Sogdian empire, during some time between 6th century BC to 11th century AD. The Sogdians, you’d learn if you went to Uzbekistan or the recent exhibit at the British Museum, were an ancient Iranian civilization around Uzbekistan and Tajikistan. Some Sogdians also lived in China during the Tang dynasty, while others ventured throughout the Byzantine Empire, fulfilling important trade roles on the Silk Route. The Muslim conquering of Transoxiana in the 8th century catalysed the gradual conversion of all Sogdians to Islam. This also led to the decline of the Sogdian language, as many adopted Persian or other Turkic languages instead. We also got by with Russian in Uzbekistan. For some reason, whenever I hear ‘the Sogdians’ my brain thinks of Cher talking about ‘the Haiti-ans’. So if we just went back into the kitchen, rearranged a few things, we could certainly party with the Sogdians. 

Anyway, I don’t know why but I was much more amenable to partying with the Sogdians in Samarkand than in the rest of the country. Samarkand, I think, is more tourist-friendly. Or just me-friendly. There were modern buildings and restaurants and stuff, which I was ready for at this point. And the big f-ing things to see were easy to find and see and enjoy. The biggest f-ing thing, the Registan, was as impressive and beautiful as I could have wished, really living up to expectations. 

The Registan was once the public square, the main piazza, of the ancient city. All the big news was announced here, all the big executions happened here, things like that. The square is composed of three madrassahs forming a square (the last side is formed by YOU! or whatever): the Ulugh Beg Madrassah, the Tilya-Kori Madrassah, and the Sher-Dor Madrassah. That’s them from left to right, but we went right to left, so that’s how I’ll talk about them. The Sher-Dor Madrassah was built in the 1600s and depicts tigers in mosaics (I think they are supposed to be lions because Sher-Dor means lion-bearing, so I hear so I hear, but come on they look like tigers if they’re a day) which I noticed were cool but I didn’t even realize till later how crazy that really is given that Muslims aren’t supposed to have pictures of living things in religious buildings and stuff. That Yalangtush, the ruler who ordered Sher-Dor to be built, must have been some kind of bad ass, which is easy to believe considering his name has the word tush in it. 

The Sher-Dor was the one place where we saw cops guarding the door, I think just because it is closest to the ticketed entrance. But true to what our guide book warned us about, one of the cops offered to take us into the closed minarets at the Ulugh Beg Madrassah across the square so we could climb up it, for a fee of course. We read about how the cops will offer to do this but ask for money, usually more than they first say, so we were not about to go with a stranger danger into a tower and then either pay him whatever he wants or risk having him lock us in.  nah thanks. Corrupt cops are everywhere! 

As for the big guy in the center, the Tilya Kori Madrassah was born only a little after the Sher-Dor and operated as a mosque as well, which is why it’s so big I guess. The facade features two stories of the dormitory cells of the madrassah students. But inside is really where it’s at. There’s a hidden courtyard after you enter the Tilya and that and the interior halls are supes gorge. The name ‘Tilya Kori’ means ‘decorated with gold’ I would have guessed ‘see you later’ from the sound of it but that makes more sense I guess. Till ya kori alligator! 

Some people, I don’t know who but they sound like very little fun, are upset about how the restoration inside the Tilya Kori has actually, ya know, restored it to such an extent. But look how gorgeous it is now! Who would rather have crumbling cement holes and colors so faded you can’t even see them than this gloriousness? Who on earth really thinks the original artists and architects would prefer to see their work falling apart and disintegrating to preserve ‘authenticity’ rather than having amazing modern people restore it so it remains beautiful? Y’all tripping. 

The Registan grounds were almost as gorgeous as the inside bits. I love loved this sea of flowers tipping out from the vase. 

The secret courtyard of the Tilya was also really lovely. I bet by now you are getting the hint that the Registan is completely awesome. Well except for one thing which I’ll mention in a minute. 

As for the Ulugh Beg Madrassah, it was named after – you guessed it – the famed Ulugh Beg, the 14th century Timurid ruler. That’s not his real name – the real one has some Muhammeds and some bins in there – but a moniker he garnered because it basically means ‘great ruler’. So, fun fact, Beg is the part that means ruler or chief, from the old Turkic ‘bey’ which means chief in that way. So we see, Beyonce is Queen Bey for a reason. Names are powerful. Not just a ruler, Ulugh Beg was also an astronomer and mathematician, specializing in spherical geometry (I mean), which is why the inside of his namesake madrassah was decorated with constellations galore. It was really cool to follow all the stars and see which ones I recognized (zero) or knew the names of before (six).

The Ulugh Beg is the oldest of the three buildings, and according to our book is ‘considered the best of the three’ which just seems like unnecessary favoritism that threatens to spark infighting among the buildings. 

Okay I know I said there was just one thing to complain about here at the Registan but come on it’s me. There are three. The biggest annoyance was that, despite how sacred and important this place is, there are touts everywhere, covering every inch of space selling their crappy knickknacks which okay fine you’re trying to make a living but no they hound you and it takes most of your energy to get them to stop and that’s energy you should be using to gaze upon the sights and not harrumph irritably. Harrumph I said HARRUMPH. 

Numbers two and three have to do with money, not that anything here was expensive but it’s just the principle of the thing. Our not-so-old book says that the ticket into the Registan costs 4000 Uzbeki som, but they charged us 30,000 each! That’s some crazy markup! And they only charged the Uzbek people who went in before us 1000. I get charging foreigners more, it happens, but damn that’s a lot more. It’s still stupid cheap for being the most important site in the area but stilllll. Even more annoying, though, was that after paying all that som, the bathrooms inside the Registan grounds were still another 1000 som. Like after you pay 30,000 to enter the place you still have to pay for the toilet? Bitch please. 

Other than those grievances, the Registan was spectacular. 

On to the next!

The next mosque on our list was the Bibi Khanum Mosque, which was built to house 10,000 people. That’s a lot of praying going on. Luckily there were not that many people inside when we visited, although I did see Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Uzbek doppelganger. When the Bibi (HABIBI!) was first built, it didn’t last long before it started falling apart at the seams (not seams) (not a robot). Maybe it was too big, maybe it was built too fast, maybe it was seismic activity, maybe Tamerlane (remember we have learned about him in past posts but don’t worry we will talk about him again in a few minutes) was just too pissed at the architect for kissing his wife and so he cursed the place — all of these reasons have been put forward to explain the collapse. Yes even that last one. Apparently the architect fell in love with Tamerlane’s wife, whose name was Bibi Khanum so yeah not hard to believe since the mosque just happens to be named after her. So legend goes, Archie kissed Bibi and it permanently scarred her lips, so Tamerlane was suitably pissed and called for the executioner, but Archie climbed to the top of a minaret, sprouted wings, and flew to Persia. I don’t believe it, but I am not surprised that yet another ancient tale has only the woman, the one who didn’t do anything but get victimized, be the only one who actually suffers punishment. Cool story bros. 

Luckily, after falling apart for hundos of years and then collapsing even more in an earthquake, they restored the Bibi Khanum in the ’70s so now we can visit and be safe. 

Our next and final stop on the historical sites tour is the Gur Emir Mausoleum, which we could see from our hotel. The mausoleum is home(?) to several important members of the Timur family, including Amir Timur himself, better known as Tamerlane. In case you forget from past blog posts, Tamerlane was a big f-ing deal, a Turco-Mongol conqueror in the 1300s. He founded the Timurid Empire in Persia and Central Asia, leading military campaigns across most of Asia, the Caucasus (‘Dolokhov was in the Caucasus and he killed the shah’s brother. Now all the Moscow ladies are MAD about him!’ anyone??) and southern Russia. He was the most powerful ruler of his time in the Muslim world after he defeated some super biggies like Egypt and the Ottoman Empire. He was responsible for apparently 17 million deaths! That’s a lot! Why do humans revere people like this! 

This mausoleum wasn’t actually supposed to contain Tamerlane’s remains – it was originally built for his favorite grandson, Mohammed Sultan (an ungoogleable name now) (also what a creepy gift for anyone! here i built you a big coffin for when you die! jesus christ I wanted a bicycle), but then Tamerlane died unexpectedly in 1405 (do they really not think he was murdered I can name a million possible suspects and I wasn’t even there) and his mausoleum wasn’t done yet, so he was like ‘well I’m dead and my place is unfinished so just put me in here I guess’. His other grandson, Ulugh Beg, is in there too. Yep that was his grandson! Such nepotism, so wow. 

The giant slab of jade on Amir Timur’s coffin was stolen by Persian invaders, but they returned it because it had brought them bad luck, which I find HILARIOUS. There’s a giant bowl in this morbid room too, which I don’t think the picture shows, but anyway Tamerlane would always fill the bowl with pomegranate juice and make his troops drink from it pre-battle to symbolize drinking the blood of the enemy, which is enough to put me off pomegranate juice for good. 

But it wasn’t all fun and games. I mean death and mosques. We also had fun food experiences! As I now expect in these Silk Road cities, there was a kickin bazaar overflowing with produce and bread and people, and Samarkand’s was pretty great. As usual, we stuffed ourselves with amazing bread and stocked up on fruit for our travels. But Samarkand’s bazaar stood out for me because it also had fantastic halvah, which is a favorite of mine and all people with good taste. 

As you can see, there was plenty of food, as was the case for most of the cities we visited on this trip, but finding restaurants with vegan menu items was harder. We had a rough time in Samarkand due pretty much just to bad luck in choosing crappy places, but one restaurant was great. Platan, which I found via HappyCow (the only entry for Samarkand, and for dern good reason), was a nice quiet restaurant inside a hotel on the fancier end of things. The food on offer was like classic Russian stuff I had on the Trans-Siberian – cabbage salads and beans and stuff. It was decent and I liked it and I loved it. The only annoying thing about Platan was that to pay with credit card, you have to go into the bar in the hotel, which is not very civilized at all and was a great mess and super uncomfortable and time consuming. But hey, they took credit card. Not common. 

Of course, I ordered the vitaminka salad, because I always do. This one had actual lettuce (and a lottt of cilantro), which I enjoyed because I love lettuce and that’s usually all I ever put in my salads. I was thrilled to see lobio on the menu despite this not being a Georgian restaurant! Yay beans! I love you beans! 

I also got a dish of hot cabbage and root vegetables because I love me some hot cabbage and root vegetables. Yum! 

Honestly the best meal in Samarkand was our hotel breakfast. And our hotel was the best place in town. I’m so obsessed. L’Argamak was brand spanking new, so everything was super clean and fresh and lovely. And the staff was the nicest, most accommodating I’ve ever encountered. They bent over backward to make sure we had everything to our liking, which can get really uncomfortable but they were just so goddamn kind that it was great. And the breakfast was gorgeous. They have all these fruits and jams made from fruit growing in their garden. Loves it. 

Oh and I did indeed eat all of that watermelon and honeydew because this was the spread just for the two of us. Okay I shared with Husband but my point is, they did all this just for the two of us. Ahhhhh they were the best! And breakfast was served on the gorgeous patio amid the gorgeous fruit trees and omg it was like you weren’t even in Uzbekistan. 

So Samarkand was pretty great, and not just because of L’Argamak. The sites were impressive and imposing and interesting. (And I found halvah and I had a good bed!) So much greatness. Of course, this was still Uzbekistan, so it was still full of some weird. Like how all the streets were lined with deep gutters that were f-ing dangerous as hell if you didn’t stare at the ground every time you were walking outside. 

And public transit leaves something to be desired. We didn’t even try using the buses after we saw this: 

But aside from my minor quibbles, Samarkand was by far my favorite place in Uzbekistan. (We still have several stops to talk about, but you’ll see.) The historic sights really were awesome and worth seeing. And if you for some reason are going to Uzbekistan, you’ll have to go to Samarkand and stay at L’Argamak. My favorite thing, okay one of many favorites as is expected with me, was our view of the Gur Emir Mausoleum from our balcony, especially at night. It captures that kind of ancient magic you feel in this place, all in the comfort of a clean hotel with a working new toilet so you know that makes me happy. 

That’s all, Samarkand! You’re a nice town thanks for letting us enjoy ourselves.