Bukhara and Samarkand

 The cars shipped on the back of beaver-tails to Mary (near the ancient city of Merv) and then set off at 4.00 am for the Turkmenistan/Uzbekistan border. 

We were so glad not to be driving (I mean we were distraught not to be driving) as the road was as bumpy as could be. The scenery was pretty drab. Miles of scrub and completely flat. We overtook the beaver-tails and arrived at the border, passing endless queues of trucks, after 6 hours. We waited a while for the cars and eventually having unloaded, we were off. It all seemed to go well, with Ezis, our guide leading the charge again. And then we came across Mr Grumpy at customs. He shouted at his young underlings for being nice and smiley with us and gave us ‘the old one-two’. Oh my. What a fellow. Not quite in the league of the repressed individual in Baku but not far off. Our impression of Turkmenistan has been deeply influenced by their officials. What else does one need to say?

Through to Uzbekistan border control. It should have been quicker but the computer broke down! They were very nice though. 

By the time we were released from border zone captivity it was already getting dark. We had been there over five hours. Grim. 

A convoy of four rather tired cars and occupants set off for Bukhara, that exotic place name, redolent of the Silk Route, spices, carpets and glorious madrassas. 

Hold up! Into the encircling gloom I suddenly could see no more. My lights had failed. Completely. We all pulled over to the side of the road as trucks and cars thundered by. The 10 amp fuse I had replaced the other day had burnt out. Simple answer: put in a bigger one! So a 15 amp fuse was applied with apparent success (until the wiring loom burns out, I suppose, but we have an electronics expert amongst us, step forward Ham, who will attempt to find the problem on our rest day). 

Dinner was a taxi ride from the hotel and the youngsters massively over-ordered a mixed kebab dish. We had three when even the waiter suggested two would do. When three huge plates with twenty skewers each of various meats was placed in front of us, Nigel who was starting a bad headache retired back to the hotel, leaving seven of us to eat too much food. 

It was a mistake, which has required the use of Imodium, but this is a family blog and I shall not go into details. 

In the morning we visited the old town and bought some hats and then headed for Samarkand, another historic and extraordinary place which conjures images of Genghis Khan and his blood thirsty siege in the 13th century.