Samarkand Days 34 to 35 June 2nd and 3rd 2019
Two days on our own in Samarkand – wanting to do everything but feeling the need of a day or two of R & R. Yes it is hard to imagine in a life of travel one would need rest & recreation. Yes Overload does happen – sensory, cognitive, physical. All that history, all that archeology, all that architecture. It has taken us a while to let ourselves spend time just hanging out and let the experience settle in.
To reinforce our decision I woke up not the best so only to pleased to stop and needing facilities nearby.
By lunch time I hankered for bread, cheese and tomato. Not possible to find in our area we thought. On a walk to find food we passed a man coming out a gate with a loaf of fresh bread. In we went. After a non-verbal communication that got us all laughingly confused we found a young couple baking and selling bread in the corner of a courtyard. Just along the road we found a tiny food shop selling among other things the dreamt of – fresh tomatoes and cheese.
Back to Hotel Dilshoda we went. Sitting in the courtyard surrounded by the 2 storey old style building, with internal verandah overhanging the courtyard giving shade over the Topchans. We chose a Topchan covered in colourful carpets and suzani – the perfect setting. Eating warm bread with ripe red tomatoes and smoky cheese. Happy Happy Happy.
After further rest in the afternoon we decided we should visit the Gur Emir. It was next to our hotel – Yes the Hotel Dilshoda was in an incredible location.
Gur Emir – a compelling sight from the outside at every changing light. Inside the gold cupola to floor is excessive beauty. In 1406 it was built in an incredibly short 9 months as a mausoleum for the Emir Timur’s grandson (and heir) Mohammed who died at 21years.
The entry doors are original – built 590 years ago from a Karagash (Mulberry) tree. Intricately carved. The large central dome has an external and internal dome with a 10metre gap between for maintining consistent temperature.
The interior lavishes gold – walls, cupola, throughout the main chamber intricate gold patterns surround the tombs. Onxy outlines patterns and tiles throughout. The tombs include a valued spiritual adviser/ teacher of Emir Timur. Timur’s grandson Mohammed Sultan, also great grandson Ulug Beg, four children of Timur’s – two sons and two unnamed children. Well this is how it seemed – trying really hard to get a handle on the history but it is not easy.
3rd June
Awoke to a rare sight – rain and cloudy skies. Out we go. The plan was wander to the Regional Museum via new directions.
Beginning with a close encounter with the ever present Emir Timur – a large statue on the intersection close by our hotel.
Soon after we set out – a coffee shop appeared – a short stop out of the rain and onwards through part of the Jewish Quarter, passed a small bazaar, along streets with shops of all kinds. On one street corner was a small van surrounded by people – peeking inside showed a display of delicous looking baked goods.
Finally the Samarkand Regional Museum – a small but interesting collection that included ethnological displays such as clothes and household items, coins, astrology equipment, armour and weapons. Two fascinations for me were:
A pair of what appeared to be wooden shoes in clog style with small cuban like heels and delicate, softly coloured, glass receptacles and jewellery from as early as the 9th century.
Throughout we learned more about the complicated history including the Samonids and Timurid eras. the invasion of Ghengis (Chingis) Khan and the Mongolian empire and the Arab empire.
The Museum is housed in an original merchants house. One end is the original rooms of the Jewish merchants house along with history and historical items from the Bukhara Jewish population. Their beginnings are ancient and their history fascinating thought to date back to the Lost Tribes.
The house itself had an unusually ornate interior with stencilled and stuccoed walls and ceilings given colour to each room with ceramic heaters in each corner and mulitcoloured ceilings.
Our plan after lunch was to visit Khoji Abdi Darun which was a little out of the main centre but appeared to have a long history, is still working and was described in gentle appealing way.
It was all of those things as we quietyly sat within the complex, as the birds bustled about above in a very tuneful tone, gentle life went on around us preparing for prayer. We sat – just sitting and enjoying the serene and meditative, surrounds by the tree shaded pool.
A graveyard and minaret sat alongside the complex, we ended our visit with a walk through the graveyard astounded by the amount of graves of young men in the early 2000’s.
We decided a walk back would give us a final close up of a piece of Samarkand. Two or three km’s through everyday life of Samarkand – children coming home from school eager to practice their English. Heated arguments at the local bazaar. Streets lined with grape vines over the footpath offering shade from the strong heat. Houses around courtyards with colourful Topchans inside the doors. Ancient crumbling buildings. Older men carrying out heavy physical work on the streets.
Back at the hotel – a rest and preparing to leave for dinner. Where is my bag? I turned by everything upside down then asked Chris to do it for me. Wallet, Passport – heart rate increased – not in the room. I explained to one of the friendly young men on reception who called in English speaking reinforcements. Then the wonder began – Tohir arrived, quickly understood what had happened and phoned the Tourist_Police_Samarkand. Despite our protestations that this was our problem Tohir insisted he take us on a re-creation of our travels and follow through until the problem was solved. We were met on the way by the Tourist Police – both Tohir and the Tourist Police seemed confident where we were worst case scenario: calm where we were panicked. They suggested we have dinner and carry on with our holiday while they did their job – who could eat now.
By the time we had returned to the hotel to pick up Chris’s wallet and prepare for dinner a call came through and Tohir explained they had found my bag. We needed to go to the Tourist Police before dinner. No argument there. My luck was more than finding precious items – the experience of visiting the relatively new tourist police at their workplace was almost worth the lost bag – almost. A video and photos were taken to promote the work of the Tourist Police – very happy to oblige.
