I say “so long” to the group and make a forced detour by train to Tashkent.
As if by magic, I close my eyes in Bukhoro and open them again in Tashkent. I close my eyes in Uzbekistan and open again in some Eastern European city.
Wide streets and big open spaces help fight the daunting feeling these big block buildings give.
Distant as it is, the city reminds me of Odessa. Odessa without the energy Odessa has. But the colour, the layout, the language. Everyone speaks Russian. I only get to find Uzbek when I go looking for it. NE. Shota district.
Upon exiting the metro, a big madrass portico and plenty of women wearing headscarves. Not the stereotype I was looking for….
In a city that prides itself in its pluriculturalism, my host suggest to local cuisine for dinner: besh bardma and kazak plov one day and Korean food the following….
Over Korean cuisine I get to meet the Touring Racing once again, Marylline, Renault and the kids, one last time before we part in separate directions. Such a great thing it has been to run into them every so often :)
Tajik visa in hand and with new parts for Shoma, I head for the train station, for a 400km sleep toward Bukhoro once again….
El Alcohol Desintoxica, Rejuvenece & Fortifica 