Khiva to Bukhara by Train

Friday 27 September 

A prompt but not unreasonable start as we left the hotel at 0800.  We’d preordered a taxi which wasn’t there. When we asked the guy at reception he disappeared, then reappeared in a car a few minutes later. He grinned at me “yes, on reception, taxi driver. I’m the little brother.” 

We were in economy class on the train from Khiva to Bukhara.  It’s such a new line that no guide books mention it and even some online guides still say it’s in construction.  So for 8 USD we had a trip in air conditioned reclining seats watching Uzbekistan trundle past.

Once past Khiva and Urgench we had hours of flat desert/brushland interspersed with a couple of crossings of the Amu Darya River.  The guidebook map suggested we were heading into Turkmenistan but in fact we stayed north of the border.  JC was extremely disappointed by this.  

I was quite intrigued by these regularly spaced short straw-like plants.  I believe they are planted as sediment control, to stop the sand encroaching any more onto the rails.  Our journey was interrupted by the odd stop at a platform in the middle of nowhere awaiting a passing train.  The platforms serve no one as the access roads are still being built.  And I saw no sign of dwellings anywhere near them in the arid desert.

We pulled into Bukhara just before 1500, haggled for a taxi and sped into the old town.  We dropped our bags and headed our for beer at a local cafe/pond affair.  No idea if this boy ever caught any fish here.  

We wandered with little purpose save as to getting our bearings.  Friday night is party night here and there was a strong man throwing weights into the air and bouncing them off his chest, and a cornet lead procession down to the square whereupon we were regaled by an Uzbek pop singer.  JC was a little surprised at the change in Bukhara over the last 18 years.  The haphazard stalls and bazaars have been cleaned-up and somewhat sterilised.  Old crumbling buildings have been demolished and lookalikes built in their place.  Uneven hazardous walkways have been replaced by sensible pavements.  It’s kind of lost it’s romance now.  However it’s still Bukhara and has its crafts, stalls, cycle rickshaws and all 5 m’s (mosque, Madrassah, museum, minaret and mausoleum).

We struggled to find somewhere to eat again as the coaches block book all the local eateries, so we scouted smaller venues and ended up with a good meal of rice and veg (yup) and wine.  Well that was my version. JC’s was chicken stew, chips and coke.  We were serenaded by a local musician whose dvd was set onto loop until the restaurant owner was also driven potty by the 10th rendition and switched channels.  We finished the meal with British pop songs.