Ireland’s Beautiful Countryside: County Cork (and Ballymaloe)

The ancient city of Bukhara, thought to be founded in the 6th century B.C., is like a small outdoor museum of its history. Important as a stop on the Silk Road and as a trading and cultural center before that biz ever started (so old), Bukhara’s city center is listed as a UNESCO world heritage site. The whole city center. I think you can guess by that fact that Bukhara is not exactly the most modern place to visit. So in the previous post, about Tashkent, I mentioned how  our next stop of Bukhara was like stepping back in time like whoa, and I realized afterward that I was thinking about Khiva, one of our subsequent and much more impressive stops, when I said that. Still, Bukhara is hella ancient too, and I don’t think the center has changed in a long time, except for the tiny shops getting new kinds of soda and stuff.  Full of mosques and madrassahs, dust and ashes, Bukhara seems to have preserved history. remarkably well. But with that comes, well, a bit of a hard time for tourists. Despite recognizing how important this place and its history were, we were kind of over it really fast. 

But first we have to get there. Our train from Tashkent, our first Uzbek train, seemed promising – another overnight train where we had a cabin to ourselves, no strangers sleeping and snoring above us – except for its super early arrival time of about 6am. As long as we got some sleep we’d be fine, and without strangers in the cabin we’d surely get some sleep, right. Wrong, so so wrong. The couple in the cabin next to us were the loudest, rudest people of all time OF ALL TIME. The Uzbek trains were a little Miss Havisham looking in their old-fashioned decor, but they went all in on one piece of modernity – televisions in every cabin! Cool! We didn’t watch anything since we wanted to sleep, but the people next to us REALLY did. They put theirs on and found the most annoying Uzbek MTV sounding channel, and turned the volume up all the way, as high as it went. I knocked after a bit and asked if they could turn it down. They said okay. LIARRRRRRRS! They kept it as loud as possible, but they added to it their RAUCOUS loud insanely obnoxious laughter, which the thin walls did nothing to keep out. It was enough to (almost) put me off TV entirely, and you know how much I love TV. I mean there’s no way in hell that anything on Uzbek television was remotely as funny as they found it so like they were surely overacting to make us mad. They are helldaemons that I hope are back there. I tried to find a conductor or any kind of attendant to complain to but none were to be found. I knocked again at like 3am to ask if they could finally for the love of god just shut up but they didn’t open their door and instead just laughed harder and harder. It was incredibly rude. We started screaming through the walls out of pure despair, which they thought was hilarious. Those fuckers I hope karma gets them. 

When we finally landed, I put a pox on the houses of the neighbors and we went to find, egads, another taxi to take us to the guest house. By this point in our travels, we’d had maybe one good experience with a taxi. Not even good, but neutral. The rest were enough to provoke such rage that I probably could have picked up and thrown a taxi. This ride would be no different, and in fact with top the charts of forking shirtballs. The driver said he knew our guest house well, the Hotel Jeyran, and he kept saying “Jeyran Jeyran da Jeyran” so we were like okay at least he knows where he’s going. OF COURSE HE DIDN’T KNOW WHERE HE WAS GOING. We had to direct him like we did the others. FFS he didn’t even know when we would name huge landmarks to head towards. When we finally got to Jeyran, he had the nerve to ask for more money than we agreed to, despite his not being able to find the place on his own and lying about it. We told him to go fork himself.

Despite being called a hotel, the guest house we were staying in was more like someone’s house, with an extra room or two upstairs. It was fine, the couple running things/living there was nice, but alas, we arrived at 7am and check in wasn’t until noon. We sat in the front room for a while, while the guy watched his stories on his TV, as we just tried to decompress from the horrible night and horrible cab ride. Luckily, a tiny little baby cat lived there, and despite being allergic, I played with him because omg, tiny little baby cat. He was sooo cute and he just wanted to sleep on us. 

After about an hour of just sitting, we decided to go explore and try to find a cafe with wifi. The man in charge pointed us in one direction, and when we found what he meant, it was an enormous restaurant, and it wasn’t opened yet. We continued walking around the newer town, where we were staying, and found nothing, literally nothing, not even a shop, so we went into the old town, the tourist area with all the mosques and dust and stuff. What we found was not cafes or wifi (what were we THINKING, expecting that here) but, naturally, more construction! And the kind of sweeping, all-encompassing works that put the construction we encountered previously in the ‘stans to shame. SHAAAME. We had to walk around rubble, delicately choosing our routes so as not to fall from like 10 feet into more rubble. It was not so good. All the places that looked even a tad like they might not be mosques or madrassahs were closed. Forget wifi, we’d given up on wifi; we just wanted somewhere to sit maybe that had something to drink or eat. We weren’t picky. Just something that wasn’t a pile of dust and rock. On one particularly construction-y section of the old town, we saw a tea house located up a set of stone stairs, and a little girl out on the path in front. We yelled up to her asking if they were open, and she ran inside. Cool, we thought. Luckily she had gone to get an adult (smart kid!) who came out and told us to come in come in please come in! We asked, are you open? And she said yes yes come in. They were not even a little bit open, we realized when we went in, but she was willing to make us tea (it was a tea house) and give us the little sweets that come with it, so it was really nice. Literally the nicest person we would meet in all of Uzbekistan. I had ginger tea to try to settle my stomach, which always hurts if I don’t sleep, and they brought us little dishes of nuts, halva-like treats, nutty other treats, and a pile of pure sugar rock candy. What a breakfast. It was really nice inside this place, and is probably wonderful after a day of sightseeing. 

After our tea stint, we got a feel for the town as we meandered back towards the guesthouse. It was weird. Everywhere we turned, it kind of looked like Mars, or x other unknown, dusty dry sunny planet. As the place started to wake up, there were hordes of old ladies working like a prison chain gang all over town. It was really disturbing and I really hope they weren’t actually prisoners but it really looked like it. These old lady gangs were everywhere, hoeing little patches of garden and what not. I wanted to ask them if they were okay but a) I didn’t know how and b) they looked like they would happily cut a bitch.

The weirdest thing we’d noticed throughout the stans was continued in strong form in Bukhara – the constant ground watering. Every day for the past month, we’d see people watering the ground – not soil, just the street and cement and brick paths – with hoses or watering cans. Not something you see in England every day. I assume it’s to prevent too much dust buildup or it has to do with the heat, both good reasons, but it’s still quite odd to see someone watering asphalt when you were taught that shit only grows when you water soft ground. Anyway. 

After we finally checked in and showered, I want to say we napped, but I don’t remember (probably because I was sleeping whaaat) and it doesn’t really matter what we did on which day (we were there for several, and too many) so let’s just get to the sights. We started (or not! who cares!) with the Ark of Bukhara, or the Bukhara Fortress, mostly because it’s the most important site to actually go into, but also because it was closest to the guest house by being situated kind of halfway to the old town center and not in it like everything else was. Side note, probably best to stay in the actual old town so you don’t have to walk the creepy streets at night. And so you’re near stuff. We were not near stuff.

The Ark dates back to the 5th century AD. How this city survived for so long without one I’ll never understand! It was a military structure at times, and a whole town with royal courts inside at others. According to a legend, the ark’s creator was the hero Siyavusha, who fell in love with a girl and the girl’s father was like, “I’ll let you marry her if you build a palace on this piece of land that is bounded by bullskin.” He meant that as a way to stymie the boy since it sounds impossible but the boy was like, how bout I just cut the bullskin (and we cut the bullshit HEYOOO) into thin strips and connect them instead of doing what I hope you’re not implying, which is to build a palace inside a regular-shaped skin of bull. I don’t know it all sounds ridonk. Needless to say, the Ark as it stands is hella big and I don’t doubt that every aspect of a functioning medieval town could fit inside the walls for a bit. Honestly I can see everything in modern day Bukhara fitting inside this fortress were it not full of museums right now. 

Inside the Ark, we ran into our first tourists in a long time – lots of French oldies 98s. French people were all over Uzbekistan, we’d find later. These guys were kind of annoying. I don’t remember why, but I’m looking at my phone notes, and I wrote “annoying French people”, so, let’s leave it at that. On site, there was a toilet, as you would hope to find in museums and the like, but this total random man charged 1000 som to use it! He didn’t seem to legitimately work there at all, and when I left the toilet, he was nowhere to be found, so like I think it was a scam. But that is I think like a few cents so it wasn’t a big deal it was the principle of the thing. Everywhere in Bukhara, we quickly learned, there would be random people outside the big sites asking for an entrance fee that wasn’t posted anywhere. It never seemed any more legit than it did at the Ark toilet. As soon as we approached a door of a mosque or something, someone would run up to us from nowhere and demand 6000 som or something and we’d be like, hey who are you. 

The square around the Ark is called the Registan. It’s where the public floggings would occur! The big story around Bukhara is that of two British officers named Stoddart and Connelly who were beheaded in the Registan in the 1850s. Colonel Stoddart was sent to Bukhara in 1939 to make nice with the legendarily cruel emir, Nasrullah. Instead of becoming friends with him, Nasrullah imprisoned the Englishman instead. Didn’t see that coming! No everyone did. Stoddart was in solitary confinement for three years, until another Englishman joined him! Fun! Not fun. Captain Connolly was sent to get Stoddart released. Great plan guys! Instead the emir tossed Connolly into the ‘bug pit’ with Stoddart and then publicly executed them to publicly shame England. What a guy and what a place. 

After we saw everything in the Ark, we made our way fully into the old town, to see all the mosques and stuff because Mohammed knows we haven’t seen enough mosques lately. The most important, I want to say so I’m saying it, is the Kalan Mosque, from 1500s. It can hold 12,000 PEOPLE. That is a lot. Not even a drop in the bucket compared to the Penn State football stadium, but still, a lot for a mosque built so long ago. Unfortunately, we were not two of those 12,000 because when we went to enter, a rando sauntered up and said the entrance fee was 6 (SIX) times what it said in our guidebook and on the internet, clearly a scammy sammy, so we skipped it. Fortunately, this was one where the outside was impressive so we weren’t upset. We went in so many mosques lately and the rest of our time in Uzbekistan would be mainly seeing more mosques so no tears. The mosque sits across the main square from the Mir-i Arab Madrassah, so it makes for a really impressive, historically important square, though hard to remember which witch is which. At the risk of being even more disrespectful to the Uzbek people, I’m going to admit that I’m not hundo p about these pictures actually being what I’m saying they are, but I’ma do my best.  

The whole mosque complex in the town center was like one enormous building, all seemingly connected and hard to distinguish. There are sooo many important buildings to see that after a while it’s like okay, didn’t I already see you, enormous sandy white building with some pretty blue tiles?

One I was excited about was the Kalyan Minaret, or the Grand Minaret, or the Tower of Death. No I didn’t know that last name when I was excited about visiting it; I just wanted to climb a tower. We like climbing things. The Tower of Death apparently got its name because criminals would be executed by being thrown from the top. So economical? Minarets’ usual function is for the muezzin to climb up in order to call err’one to prayer, so it had to big a bit taller than the mosque everyone’s going to. But the Kalyan Minaret passed the mosque and then was like you know what, I’m gonna keep on trucking, and it kept going up and up so now it’s the second tallest in all of Central Asia. We read quite a few things about how the architects of this or that monument were killed (never be an architect) because the rulers who commissioned the buildings didn’t want the architect to ever make anything more impressive. People cray. Anyway I have a vague memory of the minaret’s architect being thrown off because the wife of something important got him in trouble.  

The Kaylan is so impressive that it’s said that during all his conquering, Genghis Khan (my ole pal Chingis!) left it standing instead of destroying it! 

Once it got to be an actually human hour of the day, the city center got a little crowded! Other people here, who would have thought. Oh we learned another story about the minaret! A young woman was to be executed after she married a local businessman. Unclear if the reason for her execution was related to the marriage. Anyway her last request was that she be allowed to wear the dress her husband bought her for her wedding day. So the official went to her house to get the dress but he a man he didn’t know what dress so he brought all forty dresses she owned. The woman put all forty dresses on instead of choosing the one, and they cushioned her fall and she lived! What an amazing place to get to keep living in. Because of that, now it’s a Bukharan tradition that all men give their brides 40 new dresses as a wedding present. And that’s why I have so many dresses!

​We made our way to the base of the minaret to climb it but alas, the door was padlocked shut. On to the next! 

Next we visited the Chor Minor, which is to the east of the city center so not one of the most visited sites. Built in 1807, the small lil guy was the entrance to a madrassah. A proverb says that if someone can climb up the stairs of the Chor and then back down without getting bitten by snakes, he is considered sinless. Really there aren’t snakes around (I mean I didn’t see any…) so I guess we’re all sinless? The Chor Minor has four blue turret domes that are pretty cool. 

My favorite part of Bukhara by far is Labi Hauz, which is roughly pronounced ‘lobby house’ which is what we called it. And we called all the males around it lobby boys. Back in the day, Bukhara was covered with little pools and ponds used for laundry and washing horses and drinking water and all kinds of stuff so obviously they were full of disease like whoa and the Bolsheviks finally were like ‘shut this all down SHUT IT DOWN’ and drained the pools because hella disease except for the Lobby House, because so pretty, and it’s been maintained ever since, the only one still full of water and no disease. 

You can see why it was my favorite. It was like an oasis in the middle of all the dust. I love water and this pool looked so gorgeous surrounded by the old buildings and camel statues. Of course there was construction happening at one end though. There was a cafe or two along one side that would have been perfect for sitting and relaxing if you needed it. I would have loved more like that around the pool instead of most of it being tout shops. 

My second favorite place in Bukhara was the old synagogue! It’s a tiny little place, not only smaller than all the synagogues I’ve seen in my life but smaller than all my past studio apartments too. But apparently one of the Torahs it holds is 1000 years old! Mostly it’s nice just to know that there are still jews trying to maintain a presence here and because there are so few they are sooo happy to have guests. Naturally being old religious men, the guys there were more excited for my husband’s arrival than mine because men > women in 99% of the world, even though he’s not jewish, but alas, it was still very nice. It’s free to visit but they ask for donations and you should donate. The best part was the picture they had framed on the wall of their most important visitor before us – Hillary Clinton. Oh man I actually started to cry right there, thinking about a) how I was standing in spot where Hillary and like NOBODY else in the world had stood, this tiny little hole in the wall synagogue in a tiny old town in Uzbekistan I mean come on we’re basically bff Hillz, and b) I was just so sad that she wasn’t president. 

After we simintoved and mazel toved it up, we explored the city center more. Just a few meters from the main mosque, where we were just hours before, a wifi cafe had sprung up out of absolutely nowhere. We spent sooo long looking for you all our first morning, damn cafe! And now you’re just advertising your wifiness all over town! It just appeared out of nowhere like Brigadoon! Also appearing out of nowhere in that main area was a Kapitalbank ATM that spits out US dollars!! Amazing!! And, next to the ATM was a gorgeous little courtyard with 1000 som toilets in the back that actually were worth it, not squats but big and clean! It was a lovely little surprise block of happiness. 

We haven’t even scratched the surface of historical sights in Bukhara but I’m getting tired. Here are some more beautiful buildings that are important to go look at. 

Doesn’t it look like Tatooine??!! It really did! 

So many cool things right? Just for some reason it didn’t really add up so that the sum of the parts were greater than the whole, know what I’m saying? Lots of interesting buildings to look at, but like, that’s it. There was a lack of life to the place to it fun to be there and not just interesting to look at. 

There was a lack of gas too! Like, the entire town, old and ‘new’ parts, had a gas outage while we were there so the restaurants could only grill food for us! And there was little hot water because of it. Such a weird sad thing to add on top of all the other weirdness. Luckily some of the places could make me salads, which I always liked. And Bukhara seemed to have beans on hand, which is nice. I can recommend finding salads at Minzifa – which was playing the X-FILES THEME SONG when we were there, and Saroy, both right along the Lobby House. Most of the other central restaurants will happily offer you grilled eggplant and red peppers, which you KNOW I LOVE. eye roll. I also got a heap of white rice with a happy face, see below. 

So Bukhara had some great sights and I was super happy to have beans and salads but mostly it was kind of boring. The people we met in the restaurants and sites were kind of mean and put us off the place. The people are really what make places special when you travel so to be surrounded by mean people as the majority for the first time really ever was disconcerting enough to tarnish our Uzbek travels somewhat. Still, I’m glad we got to go to this historically important place and I’m glad I don’t have to go back.