BUKHARA, THE LIVELY CITY
I headed East bound again, the desert met me again, again came the horrible bumps and ruts.
Then of course there are the police checks that are there just to cheer you up. However, this part
of the country is so remote, desolate and sandy, that the rigor of the custom agents is minimal.
No one comes here. The landscape cracks ostensibly and the sand tries to eat the narrow asphalt
path. The horizon shines yellow, leaden and inexhaustible.
After an endless day of heat and defensive riding, I arrived at the outskirts of Bukhara. The new
neighborhoods are so ugly in the soviet style that little do I anticipate the magnificence of its
ancient city which, for me, is probably the most beautiful city on our planet. Bukhara, populated
by Tajiks, is a unique place even for the Uzbeks themselves, who make pilgrimages to pray at
their temples and to study in its Madrasa, one of the oldest in Central Asia.
To walk through this stunningly beautiful old ancient city that would be sure to shake even the
most phlegmatic person. To use an Americanism “It's awesome”. Carved doors, a market streaked
by narrow passageways and crannies, a big mosque and a stylized Minaret named Kalyan that’s
astonishing by virtue of its pure perfection. This is certainly one of the most charming historic
sites I have ever seen. I feel the most intrepid explorer stood there in the midst of all this history.
This is real, it's happening. I’m walking the Silk Road, and although this could only be a romantic
legend, my excitement is genuine.