Hey friends! I just got back from an epic adventure through Uzbekistan, and I have some stories to share. The first thing that struck me about Uzbekistan isn't just its rich history or stunning architecture – it's how the country seems to exist in multiple periods at once.
Let's start with some wild observations: EVERYONE here drives a Chevy. I'm not exaggerating – it's like General Motors won a monopoly game in real life. All Uzbeks we talked to were more than willing to tell us, with groans and eyes rolled, that the government owned half a stake in the Chevy plant in the country, which encouraged the government to levy extra taxes on any other brand of imported car. That said, there was also a shocking number of electric cars in the country (apparently, they are free of extra taxes). I wasn't expecting so many electric cars, but it makes sense - the country struggles with having enough gas that people can afford.
The journey took us from Nukus to Khiva, Bukhara, and Samarkand. The drives between cities were wild - particularly in the western area. Our driver from the Aral Sea deserved a standing ovation for navigating what I can only loosely describe as "roads." At one point, we saw Turkmenistan on the other side of the Amu Darya River. The drivers told us how a lot of people come to Uzbekistan from Turkmenistan to have more freedoms from their oppressive leadership, and Uzbeks have to steathfully travel in the country to get their cheaper rugs. Border countries are complicated, huh?
Speaking of which, there's something remarkable about how Soviet influence lingers here. The older generation's nostalgia for Soviet times reflects this. However, anyone under 35 years was strongly against Russia/Putin/Soviet interests. Cultural rift, I guess.
Here's something else that'll blow your mind: we saw FLAMINGOES. In Central Asia! In some reedy area! And, because of who I am, I must mention that seated toilets were considered for the handicapped, and TP was for purchase only at public restrooms. At least they had public restrooms, though some were just holes. Beggars-choosers, right?
Random but important observation: everything was SO blue. I loved it. And speaking of love, the older folks here have this interesting nostalgia for Soviet days, while the whole place is simultaneously racing toward rapid development. It's like seeing multiple centuries existing at once.
The cultural experiences here are rich, though sometimes challenging for Western palates. The food situation was... interesting. While incorporating interesting ingredients like green noodles and various yogurt-based dishes, the food was subtle in flavor – perhaps too subtle for those used to more aggressive seasoning. What surprised me most was finding vinegar spicy by local standards, which put the local palette into perspective. I think we'll be avoiding dill for a while.
The "plov experience" (which is their way of saying rice pilaf) everyone talked about was underwhelming. Though I have to say, the bread-making process was cool – I got to check out their traditional ovens and everything.
Another wild observation: Every "lemonade" here was a lie. I tried something called Tarhun (tarragon soda) that was labeled as lemonade, and let me tell you, my taste buds are still filing complaints. On the other end of beverage surprises, we tried fermented camel's milk while in the Nukus desert, and it was fizzier than I had expected and super tangy.
Okay, now that we got the weird stuff out of the way, let's talk about the journey.
We started in Tashkent for a day, where I took a vegan food tour in the city's oldest bazaar. I saw how clearly traditional customs remain strong, particularly around tea rituals, and the people maintain their historically peaceful nature. This feels especially meaningful given the region's complex history and equally complex present-day border situations. Unbeknownst to me, the food in the bazaar would be the tastiest food on the trip. I also ambled around a little bit to see how much the architecture is still very Soviet but punctured with Persian influence.
NUKUS - ARAL SEA
Moving through the country from west to east, each city reveals a different facet of Uzbekistan's identity.
We took a small plane to Nukus the next day to start our journey. The city served better as a gateway to other destinations than a destination itself. The drive from there offered my first real glimpse into the country's landscape. This scene remarkably resembled parts of Africa, with its colorful dresses dotting the dusty roads, women walking in groups and sweeping with sticks, and half-built homes standing testament to rapid development.
We were there to see the remnants of the old Aral Sea. It was the most sobering part of the trip. It's heartbreaking. For those who don't know the history, the Aral Sea was the second-largest inland freshwater lake in the world. In the 1960s, the Soviets decided to drain the lake to start growing cotton, and the lake started to disappear (as did its bustling fish canning industry and tourism).
Standing there, you can almost feel the wind searching for the waters that once were. It's a stark reminder of the environmental impact of the old Soviet era, made even more poignant by the visible effects of drought and desertification across the region. We drove on the old, empty seabed for hours to get to a cozy yurt camp at the little remnants of sea north of the country. It was dry and quiet, and we felt like we were on the edge of the earth.
It was clear on our trip that the country didn't have the same reverence for archeological preservation and conservation as others. There were several instances where they brought us to ancient sites that were neat, but we shouldn't have been there. Such as a hauntingly beautiful 14th-century Kazakh burial ground, where ancient tombstones tell stories through their shapes – circles for women, forks for men. And an old Mongol fortress. We really, really shouldn't have been there, traipsing around. But we were. It was also uncomfortable to drive around in the middle of nowhere on an old seabed- which clearly had never been made for cars to drive around on. I swear, several times in our 2-day drive, it looked like the car was going to give up a tire, and we would die in the open with our driver and no one else in sight. Not even a camel.
In the end, we could still see the cotton fields that people were still picking from because they were, I guess, stuck in a capitalistic loop. The drivers offered us to go outside and take pictures with some cotton pickers, which Alex and I vehemently declined....for multiple reasons.
XIVA
The cities grew more magnificent as you head east. Khiva was a gorgeous preserved piece of history, its ancient walls hiding an ingenious architectural trick. The city remains wonderfully quiet despite the growing number of European tourists (particularly Italians - so many retired Italians) discovering its charms. Way back in the day when there was conflict, the residents cleverly built fake tombs outside the walls to trick enemies, which I thought was very cool.
We got pulled into a small fledgling silk museum with very persuasive ladies. There, they let us try our hand at silk processing and weaving (which we weren't good at) before they coaxed us to buy some silk.
We stayed inside the walled city and saw so much beautiful blue architecture. It was lovely to walk around at dusk, with fewer tourists, and enjoy the quiet echoes of the streets while seeing ancient mosques and towers that loomed overhead.
After a few days in Khiva, we hired a car to drive us to Bukhara on some empty, straight roads.
BUXARA
Bukhara - a major stop on the Silk Road - presented itself as more commercialized yet maintains authentic pockets of daily life. The lovely, quiet mosques there were still being used, and they were more strict with people entering with modesty (and many tourists protested needlessly). We often walked around to see tombs, go to museums, and look at the artwork plastered throughout the city. We even bought two beautiful carpets there because we are adults. We also wandered around old water storage areas (an active construction site no one was at) and admired the old buildings. We also walked through a very nice park that was large and green.
Though small, the city's Jewish quarter adds another layer to the region's rich cultural tapestry. The city's non-touristy areas offer a glimpse into real Uzbek life, where the past and present coexist in fascinating ways. Perhaps Uzbekistan is like the United States but a thousand years ahead in its development. It's a place where ancient wisdom meets modern challenges, cultural preservation battles with progress, and the future remains as uncertain as it is promising.
There, I did have what may have been the most disgusting soup I've ever tried. It was intentionally cold and felt like a five-year-old put things into a pot and called it soup - potatoes, cream, vinegar, dill, and seltzer. I didn't eat it after a few bites. It's called okroshka, and apparently, it's an acquired taste I didn't have.
We then took another train to Samarkand, further east.
SAMARKAND & SHAHRISABZ
Samarkand, Central Asia's crown jewel and oldest town, felt more like Paris than Central Asia. The Russian influence is stronger here, with imposing buildings and grandiose architecture that commands attention. The city's monuments are now enhanced by modern light shows, creating an interesting juxtaposition of ancient and contemporary that somehow works perfectly.
Samarkand was more used to tourists and had some ornate and beautiful tourist sites. At night, they lit up the old college with a fun light show for an hour. We saw a fun old observatory on a hill. We also went to see some old and breathtaking tombs, but I found it strange that so many people were posing for pictures in front of them.
We took a day tour to Shihrisabz, a once-important city where Timur was born that was razed by a leader in recent history. It was a kind of desolate area, but impressive. Apparently, the palace was ginormous - like, toweringly huge - but most of the palace materials were repurposed when they pulled the city down. What remained was the lower fortress gates, which were still astonishing even if dwarfed by the original gate height. We also went to see the empty tomb of Amor Timur there, which was underground and very simple, and finished th small visit in an enormous bazaar.
We stopped at a site with some pretty stone outcroppings on our way back. Apparently, it was a popular tourist site among Europeans. We discovered this because the Germans filmed a US Western film called Apache in the 1970s. If that doesn't hurt your brain, nothing will.
Afterward, we took our final train ride back to Tashkent to catch our flight home. Our last meal was a NYC-style pizza at a place called "Little Italy" in Tashkent during a power outage. It was a nice way to close the trip - a mixture of cultures and oddities.
Final thoughts: This place is fascinating—it's peaceful and historic. However, I could have used more flavorful food and, you know, a functioning stomach (yes, we got food poisoning at some point). I also wish I had prepared better for intense sun and minimal shade.
