Hello West Malling. I'm here on the Shaybanid Tomb xx
As most of the first part of this world tour was supposed to be about trains...a bit about trains.
Our first attempt to by tickets (my failure with the auotmatic machine, was just converting an e-ticket, not buying one) was relatively easy, once we fond the office in Bukhara.
The Soviet mentality shone through at Bukhara station, everyone on the platform...now wait for the train. Luckily our carriage stopped right in front of us which made life a little easier. As soon as we sat down, the TV was showing the concert of a local favourite, Ozodbek Nazarbekov. Not heard of him? OK, picture this - Central Asia's version of Barry Manilow (though less musically talented, oh and he can't sing either). The concert was compared by NikNak (from the Man with the Golden Gun) a three and a half foot Bruce Forsyth. There were various guests, including a blind bloke - singing in the total dark (clever director, I see what he's getting at there) before the lights come up and Ozodbek joins in the crooning. The audience are reduced to tears. I get that.
And to make it really fun, the volume is so high, not
The Registan, filled with stage production because it's a National Holiday. Perhaps Ozodbek is performing?
even my ipod can drown him out. Still, only a three hour journey. We've got 36 hour journeys still to come on this trip. Bliss.
Foutnately Samarkand is worth the journey. More peaceful and beatiful than Bukhara. We'll stay a few days, if only to dodge the concert we might be exposed to on the train to Tashkent.
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