MANY YEARS have passed since I was last in Bukhara and the change is marked. Around the central Lyab-i Hauz pond, the ancient mud-brick buildings have been heavily restored, losing much of their character. The traditional cafés shaded by the pool’s trees from the bright Central-Asian sun cater to camera-snapping coachloads of tourists, rather than chattering groups of local men resting on topchan table beds. And the markets that once sold spices and sausages, antique jewelry and authentic karakul hats now offer cheap souvenirs and gaudy plastics. Has Bukhara changed, or has my memory over-romanticized it? Continue reading “Uzbekistan: Golden Smiles”
I GOT into Tashkent at 4am in the morning. Had I woken up at that time, I would not have been at my best, so perhaps it was a blessing that I had not slept on a cramped economy flight via Turkey, after a 7am start in London.