Day 28: Murghab to Sary Tash

Miles driven: 144

Time in Car: 7 hours

Borders crossed: 1

At 6:30 am, we woke up in our yurt. Thankfully the thick blankets provided were warm enough because the air temp was frigid. We had a quick breakfast at the hotel and set out on our search for a mechanic. The hotel manager, who spoke English well, had told us that Rasul, a local mechanic, could help us out. He pointed to where to go on a map and we set off.

Murghab

Murghab is a city that sits at 13,000+ feet and probably has a population of a couple hundred. It’s not your typical town with a grocery store, bank, and town hall. About 80% of the buildings were made out of old shipping containers due to the harsh winters and even harsher winds - some buildings had windows but they acted more as a dust entry point than a opening for natural sunlight. At around 7:30 we came upon the “mechanic” building - which had a sign out front that read ABTO. It had a double metal doors that looked like a garage and peering into the window it looked like it has an abundance of tools. However, it was locked up and no one seemed to be coming. In the meantime, we started unpacking our roof box set-up as we had to repair two of the connection brackets anyways. Soon enough though, a small crowd of curious Murghab locals came up to our car wondering what 3 Americans were doing. Through some google translate into Russian and Kyrgyz, we soon found out that we weren’t at the right spot. Mike and a local went to fetch the mechanic, Rasul, and then we drove to the right mechanic shop, which was just a house that had a garage with a mechanic pit. We took to fixing the roof rack rails and Rasul went to flattening our folded over sump guard plate with a hammer. We found some bolts that fit the roof rail connectors and Rasul beat the sump back into a flat piece of metal. Rasul then ran to a town party for an hour before bringing back one of his friends with a welding machine. After about 40 minutes of welding and replacing some bolts, our sump had been refitted. We paid Rasul and his friend 200 som and gave them 2 packs of reds as a sign of our gratitude. We posed for a pic with our new friend, Rasul, and headed off. 

Rasul

Drive out of Murghab

The drive today meandered through the Pamir valleys as we turned north towards Kyrgyzstan, away from the Chinese border. Rust colored mountains surrounded the road on either side as we drove alone down the Pamir Highway. One of the highlights of the drive was climbing up and over  Ak-Baital Pass - the highest point of the Pamir Highway (and the rally for that matter) at 4655 m. The biting cold wind howled through the mountain gap but we took in the he spectacular views. Descending the mountain pass, we next came upon the village of Karakul which sits next to the huge, blue alpine lake that shares the same name. While many towns in the high Pamirs seem to defy the laws of nature purely by existing, Karakul looked especially desolate. It was August, the winds were at 40 mph, and the ambient temperature was below freezing. I don’t want to imagine what winter is like here. Across the lake however, we took in stunning views, some of the best of the whole Pamirs which is saying a lot. Across Lake Karakul, monstrous snow-capped jagged peaks dominated the skyline. Lenin’s Peak stands tall above the rest at 7134 m, or 23,000+ ft, but due to cloud coverage, we couldn’t tell if we could actually see it. 

Ak-Baital Pass - “The Roof of the World”

Lake Karakul with Lenin Peak in the distance

The drive to the Tajik border - cold and windy with some snow flurries

We then began to ascend into the Pamirs - this time to the Kyrzl-Art pass, our exit of Tajikistan and the second highest border crossing in the world. Temps continued to drop and winds were so strong that blowing dust was limiting visibility. Once we exited the dust storms, we still noticed blowing particles in the air - it was snowing. We reached the Tajik border crossing, maybe the loneliest border outpost in the world. We were quickly through and from there we had 20 km of descent down mud and gravel roads to reach the Kyrgyz border post. The road really tested the integrity of our refitted sump guard, but it held up to the test. Passing through the Kyrgyz checkpoint, we made our remainder of the drive to the small village of Sary-Tash, a Kyrgyz town on the base of the Alay Mountains. The final portion of the drive was through wide open pastures against a backdrop of clouds enveloping the massive Alay Mountians. We passed several horse herders and other nomadic settlements - a lifestyle I could never imagine. 

We checked into a third guesthouse after the first two we tried were full. After an extremely hearty meal of sump, dumplings, and samsa, we talked with some friendly Europeans about how awesome Kyrgyzstan is. While we’re ahead of schedule and plan to use a few extra days in Kyrgyzstan, it’s unfortunate that we can only see a few bits and pieces of this country with our timeline. Tomorrow we head to Osh - FWY

The towering Pamirs from the door of our Sary-Tash guesthouse

Day 27: Shidz (near Khorog) to Murghab

Miles driven: 252 miles

Time in Car:14 hours

Borders crossed: 0

5:15 am came as light began to fill the Pamir mountain canyon. We took down camp and packed our car. Originally the night before, it was just us and the Norwegians that were up for 6 am departure. However, over some dinner, the remaining three teams also said they’d join in the 6 am departure time but stop at Khorog. 6 am came and went. Every minute not driving is doubly missed as we need every ounce of daylight today. Part of me wish we only had two teams going in the early morning as we will be twice as slow with five. European punctuality aside, we patiently waited and began driving at 6:25.

The morning drive to Khorog had much better stretches of roads in between towns but still there were sections of awful driving. At around 8:20 am we ran into a bit of a snag. One of the two front left roof rail bolts had come out which caused a noisy, squeaky rattle from the roof. Also, inexplicably two peanut butter jars we had been saving since Prague exploded spraying our rear right door with peanut butter. We stopped and jimmied a new bolt into the roof rails, tightened all the other roof rail bolts (they had come loose from the bumpy road too), and sadly cleaned up the peanut butter splatter. In 20 min we were back on our way. By 9:20 our convoy had reached the city of Khorog. It was Saturday which meant the Afghan market was on at the bazaar. On Saturdays in the summer, unless there are political tensions, Afghan tradesmen are allowed to come into the Khorog bazaar to sell goods and food. We stopped for about 20 minutes and ate some food - fried bread and shish kebab. The goods on the other hand were nothing special which was kind of disappointing. We quickly filled up gas and then said our goodbyes to three of the five rally teams of our convoy. The Aussies in the Van, the Germans in the Opel, and the Brits who we had been convoying with since the ferry, had decided to stay longer in Khorog before carrying westward into the Pamirs. We bid our farewells and wished them well. It was just us, the Norwegians, and 200 miles of road into the high Pamirs before us. We had turned west of the Panj River and drove away from the Afghan border. We had an ambitious day of driving ahead of us to get to Murghab. We were hoping we could swing it by sundown. 

Detaching the sump after it had been torn off by the road

The pavement was relatively smooth when our first major car issue occurred. There was a change of road conditions from decent pavement to rocky, uneven gravel. There were several large boulders that protruded in the road. Stevie nailed a rock making a grimacing bang noise and shortly after we hit another. Right away we knew something was awry from the noise coming from our car. We stopped and sure enough, the sump guard had been torn off. All the bolts were stripped from our chassis. Only two bolts near the rear of the sump on the flange pieces held the sump. We had hit a rock so hard that it had turned the metal on itself like a folded ribbon. Mike got one of the remaining bolts our with a socket wrench. The other bolt had metal folded on  top of it making a wrench and pliers unmanageable. Tanner took a hammer to it and we got it off shortly. With the sump off and roughly 100 miles of unknown, rocky terrain in front of us, driving without a sump guard was terrifying. One bad bottom out or one missed rock, and our oil pan could be toast. We pressed on. 

Hargush Pass - a scenic location where our roof rail brackets broke

Later, as we were passing through the first of the two 14,000+ foot mountain passes, we heard more squeaky rattling from the roof. We stopped and checked it out. The front left roof rail we had fixed in the morning had worsened. Both bolts had now sheared off and the roof rail was really just resting on our roof. We lifted our roof box to slide some cardboard underneath the connector bracket (kinda like sliding napkins underneath a wobbly bar table) to distribute the weight a bit more evenly. We also ratchet-strapped the front of our roof box through the front seats to our car for extra precaution. We pressed on. Less than an hour later, more squeaky, rattling noises this time from the back right roof area. Quickly we stopped and noticed that the rear right roof rail bracket (the connector that transfers the load to the chassis of the car) had completely come undone. It was already near 5 pm at that point. The wind was howling; it was cold; we hadn’t seen a car in ages. So we did what we know best - we ratchet strapped the back of the roof box to the car through the back seat windows and we pressed on. 

Frustration and car issues aside, the drive was again incredible. This part of the Pamirs made it easy to see why this road is called “The Roof of the World”. Apart from a half dozen 4x4s and several semis, we were practically alone on the road on today’s journey. The geography drastically changed from the previous two days of driving. We were now driving through high altitude pastures sitting on mountain plateaus. Huge snow capped mountains soared in the distance but the road today was through the valley floor instead of bordering cliffs along the Panj River. We passed through Hargush Pass at 14,252 ft and then came across the small town of Alichur alone in the barren highlands. The town seemed completely empty apart from herds of goats, cattle, and yaks. The wind was so strong and the ambient temperature must have been in the 40s and it was August. Still this town survives the harsh winters where temps have been recorded as low as -80 degrees Fahrenheit. From there, we drove past a few alpine lakes and soon darkness fell. Driving at dark was never in the plan and not recommended but we had to make it to Murghab. Thankfully, the road was quite nice allowing speeds of 30 and 40 mph. We checked into the Pamir hotel with our Norwegian convoy comrades. We had secured the last three spots in the inn and they put us up in a yurt outside. It was cozy and warm enough and we went to bed thankful we completed our marathon day. -FWY

Yaks on the plateaus of the High Pamirs

Day 26: Near Khalai-Khum to Shidz (near Khorog)

Miles driven: 130 miles

Time in Car:10 hours

Borders crossed: 0

Convoy travel + terrible road conditions = slow going

With the protection of the Pamirs, the morning sun didn’t make sleeping past 6 am an impossibility. Our convoy broke down our camps, made coffee, and paid the hotel owner for our plov, beer, and bedspace. We were trying to make it to Khorog, the official start of the Pamir Highway and the last town with an ATM before reaching Osh, Kyrgyzstan. We got off by 8:45 am, and we were very quick to realize that we had left too late to make it to Khorog in one day. Khorog was only 70 or so miles away, as the crow flies. However, following the Panj River and border with Afghanistan, the driving distance was roughly 180 miles. At 11 am, we rolled through Khalai-Khum, the town we were supposed to be at yesterday. By 1:45 pm, we still had 117 miles to Khorog. The combination of convoy travel, terrible roads, and averaging roughly 15 mph, conservatively, was slowing us down by quite a bit. 

As for the drive itself, incredible - even more so than yesterday’s. The road hugged the Panj River tightly as we weaved through the mountains. Each corner we rounded brought a new and amazing view. The landscape was brown, rocky mountains and seemingly endless dust. However every 5 miles or so, small Afghan and Tajik villages popped up as lush, green settlements in between the mountain walls and river banks. It’s crazy to think that each one of these small settlements survives in such a remote region as a self-sustainable community. And every time our convoy rolled through, a gaggle of kids chased down our cars demanding, and giving, aggressive high-fives. 

By 2:00 pm, we stopped for a lunch at a spot right off the road near a waterfall. 300 som got us 15 bowls of lagman to feed our convoy. Apparently we had 35 km left of terrible, rocky, bumpy, 13 mph max speed roads before we reached manageable pavement. We were already accepting the fact that we weren’t going to make it to Khorog tonight, but if the road allowed us to go 30 mph, who knows, we could make it. 

Dusty and bumpy

Well, those 35 km were absolute hell. Stunning views, but terrible driving. Lots of wincing, lots of clinching. The road was gravel and rock. The rocks were so large and jagged - luckily no tires were popped. We passed another military checkpoint and the roads improved marginally - 30 mph for some stretches! At 80 miles out, we stopped as a convoy to plan our next hour. It was 6 pm and we were chasing daylight. We knew Khorog was not attainable but we needed to push as far as we could to make our drive tomorrow to Murghab feasible. Murghab is in a valley after driving up to 4000 m altitude mountain pass. If we don’t make it to Murghab before sundown, we’d be camping at too high of altitude which wouldn’t be a good idea. So with an hour of driving left, we decided to push it and decided that we needto get an early start tomorrow to make a head start on our marathon day. Some of the convoy teams agreed wholeheartedly, others passively appearing wiped out from a day of dusty, slow, and bumpy driving. As darkness fell, we all agreed to figure out accommodation at a village called Shidz, which was about 58 miles away from Khorog. A village, very competitive volleyball game was going on near the school but we were told we could camp in an open area near the court after the game. We quickly set up camp, cooked our instant ramen noodles, and planned our day tomorrow. We went to bed still covered in dust from the day’s driving with a 5:15 am wake-up call. 

Chasing daylight through the Pamirs

So in recap, we spent 10 hours today driving to transverse 130 miles. Tomorrow, we have 253 miles to Murghab - big yikes. We are gonna take the road early and drive hard. *hopefully* the roads are better. -FWY

We camped left of the volleyball court

Day 25: Dushanbe to near Khalai-Khum

Miles driven: 219 miles

Time in Car:8 hours

Borders crossed: 0

We met the two other convoy rally teams at their hostel around 11 am and headed off to Khalai-Khum, a city separated only by the Panj River from Afghanistan. 

Our convoy through the Pamirs

We left with a 4 car convoy - the Brits (Gus and Laura) who we had been convoying with since Turkmenistan, a two-man team of British residing Germans in an Opel, and two Australians in a 1999 Daihatsu (a now defunct car maker) Hi-jet van that looked worse for wear. We also picked up a fifth team in a group of 3 Norwegians - so we were 5 cars strong moving through Tajikistan. The drive into the Western Pamirs was beautiful. It was bumpy. And it was slow. Beautiful in that the mountains, pastures, and plateaus shone golden under the summer sun in all directions. Bumpy in that the road was decimated pavement lined with potholes and rocks. And slow in that driving in a pack of 5 cars through terrible conditions is painstakingly slow. If one car needs a restroom break, the convoy stops. If one car needs a bite to eat, the convoy stops. If one person wants to hop out and catch a picture, the convoy stops. Luckily, the Aussies has some walkie-talkies so 3 of the 5 cars had a way of talking to each other. It made for an easy way to signal for a stop and share some banter. 

The drive into the Pamirs before entering the GBAO region

At around 5 pm, we made it to an official military checkpoint to enter the GBAO region of Tajikistan. GBAO refers to the Gorno-Badakhshan Autonomous Oblast. It’s the mountainous region that hosts the famous Pamir Highway along M41 in Southeastern Tajikistan. At the GBAO border, our convoy handed over our documents while we chatted with the very friendly and curious border guards. One guard challenged an Aussie to a pull-up competition on a rudimentary workout area. It was like a Tajik version of Muscle Beach. The guards looked at our cars in awe. They signed our car with sharpies, posed for photos, and even gifted us with bread. The people we’ve encountered since entering Turkmenistan have been nothing short of incredible and these guards were no different. From our research and stories of rally’s past, the Tajik Pamiri people are some of the hospitable and friendly of all of Central Asia. Because of their nomadic culture and religious beliefs, the Pamiri view travelers as gifts from Allah and often times they provide visitors with food, drink, and lodging when out-of-towners roll through. We shook hands with the guards, bid salam, and drove off into the GBAO and the Pamirs. 

The friendly GBAO border guards

We thought our drive to Dushanbe was incredible. That didn’t hold a candle to what we drove through once entering the GBAO. We drove into a valley that the Panj River incised from the Red rock mountains. We descended hairpins back-and-forth to the valley floor allowing us to get incredible sweeping views of the mountain landscape at dusk. Across the Panj, gigantic mountains jutted skywards - Afghanistan. Yes, we were only a stone throw away or maybe a daring swim across the Panj to reach Afghanistan - a crazy thing to think about. We continued on through small towns with our convoy. Tajik kids waved, shouted, reached for hi-fives, and smiled as we rolled by - a scene we’ve become used to in Tajikistan but especially noticeable here given the remoteness of the region. Sunlight was dwindling and we kept pushing towards Khalai-Khum. We didn’t want to drive at night but we wanted to push as hard as we could. Another military stop took a good 15 minutes for documentation checks. Darkness was upon us so we stopped at the next town at a hotel, which was really a dorm room that also had food. The 5 teams spoke with the owner and cut us a deal for food and beer. A few teams including us, set up camp outside while the rest took mats in the dorm. After a tasty meal of plov, bread, and beer, we went to bed beneath with the Pamir mountains of Afghanistan looking down upon us - for the first time on the rally, it really made me think, damn, we are far from home. - FWY,

The Pamirs of Afghanistan

The Panj River separating Afghanistan from Tajikistan

Day 24: Out of the Desert and into the Mountains

Miles driven: 181 miles

Time in Car: 4 hours

Borders crossed: 1

After blowing our remaining Uzbek som on instant noodles, we packed the car and headed for the Tajikistan border. Samarkand was only 30 min from the crossing and we were through the customs and passport control relatively smoothly in about an hour or so. We left Uzbekistan and the desert landscape and our scenery quickly changed into steep, mountainous terrain. This type of mountain driving will be a sign of things to come over the next week. 4th gear will be seldom used. 5th gear, never

Nestled in between Kyrgyzstan, Afghanistan, and China, Tajikistan is relatively small country that is basically comprised of mountains. In fact, geographically 93% of Tajikistan is mountainous. Our drive to Dushanbe, the nation’s capital, was one of the most stunning of the entire trip, not to mention the near perfect tarmac. We winded up and down through the western Alay Mountains at relatively good speeds. The views were incredible. Above the tree line, shear rock face mountains stretched as far as the eye could see. In the distance, you could see the some snow capped peaks. The drive followed a rushing river through the mountain pass on our way to Dushanbe. Apart from a 2 mile long, smoggy, dimly lit mountain tunnel at the peak of our drive, it was one of the most enjoyable rides of the rally thus far. And given that we start our route through the Pamirs tomorrow, we are in for even more incredible mountain roads over the next several days. and this initial drive was only a small taste of what we are in for during our time in Tajikistan.

The Alay Mountains

The Dushanbe mechanic

We arrived in Dushanbe near 5 pm and checked into our Airbnb team with a British team we have been convoying with. Mike and Joe quickly ran to a mechanic to check our sump guard. The Russian-speaking mechanics checked underneath Stevie and the sump was in perfect shape. However, they did discover that a stock bar beneath the exhaust was hanging on by two bolts. It had been warped to kingdom come. Most of the bolts had sheared off. I’m not sure how it got that . They removed the last two bolts and pried off the stock bar. Problem solved…I hope. The mechanics humbly asked for nothing in return but we threw them a 5er anyways. Back at the Airbnb, Tanner demanded pizza and we obliged him by stopping at a Dushanbe pizza spot that had pretty good Trip Advisor reviews from Americans. We definitely over ordered on pizza, and it was pretty decent. It was actually a nice change-up from plov, shashlyk, and mutton we had been eating the past two weeks. We had a beer with our British convoy team and talked about our excitement for the upcoming Pamirs. Tomorrow we meet up with two other teams, making our caravan a 4-car crew, and head into the Pamirs. -FWY 

PS: We may be out of pocket for the Pamirs connectivity-wise so future blogs may be delayed. 

The warped stock bar removed from our car

Day 22 and 23: Samarkand

Miles driven: 444

Time in Car:9 hours

Borders crossed: 0

After a great evening in Khiva and a stellar breakfast provided by our hostel, we took the long, pot hole-filled road to Samarkand. In its heyday, Samarkand was one of the most populous and wealthy cities in the world. Rule of the city has fluctuated from the Persians to the Turkic people to the Mongols. Even Alexander the Great conquered the pivotal Silk Road city. The ruler who most visibly left his mark on the city, however, was Timur the Great. Timur, or Tamerlane, built huge mosques, mausoleums, and Madrasahs (Islamic schools) in between his ruthless conquests of Central Asia. Subsequent rulers followed suit, resulting in some of the most richly mosaic-covered buildings in all of Central Asia and the Islamic world. The city has been painstakingly restored by both the Soviets and the current Uzbekistan government. It is beautiful. We arrived at night, checked into a hostel (complete with a lush courtyard filled with exotic birds for some reason), and grabbed some over priced beer and mediocre food from a glaring tourist trap.

Uzbek bread sold at the bazaar - like a giant, airy bageljn

The following morning, we walked to the Shah i Zinda. The mausoleum complex was started in the ninth century around the supposed burial spot of a cousin of Muhammad. Widely considered one of the most beautiful spots in the Islamic world, the vivid, geometric mosaics were stunning. After the mausoleum complex, we explored the bazaar. Unlike the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul, this Bazaar felt like a true local market. Booths were teeming with melons, citrus, berries, spices, nuts, pickles, and various types of Uzbek bread. We walked around and sampled a few of the fruits and a loaf of excellent bread before heading to a local spot known for its plov. Plov is ubiquitous across Central Asia and consists of oily rice, veggies, and usually some type beef or mutton. Uzbekistan is known for having the best, and Osh Markazi is known for being one of the better spots in Samarkand. It did not disappoint. 

Shah-i-Zinda

We walked off our carb heavy meal by taking the scenic route back to Bibi Khanym Mosque, a giant ruin of a mosque dating back to the 14th century and Timur. The size of the ruin showed just how wealthy the city was under Timur. Our next stop, the famous Registan Square, showed just how influential the city was. 

The Tilla-Kari medrassa of the Registan is known for its gold leaf ceiling

The Registan Square consists of three madrasahs built by Timur and the subsequent rulers of the city. The buildings themselves are beautiful and even include Islamic mosaics depicting animals as well as human like faces. This is rare in the Islamic world given the tradition of abstaining from any iconography. Back during the golden age of the Silk Road, Samarkand and other major cities in Uzbekistan were the centers of Islamic scholars. They influenced even the West. For example, these institutions are responsible for giving us Algebra. Despite that annoyance, we really enjoyed the square. We followed the square by checking out Timur’s mausoleum and enjoying a much deserved beer. After relaxing at the hostel for awhile, we enjoyed a nice dinner with two teams we had been convoying with. Tomorrow would begin our journey into Tajikistan and the Pamirs. -FWY

Registan at night

Day 21: Khiva

Miles driven: a good amount of miles

Time in Car: 3 hours

Borders crossed: 0

We woke up from our wild camp stop to the sounds of trains rumbling down the tracks. After a quick breakfast, our 3-team convoy made our way to Khiva. Maps estimated 2 hours and 15 minutes but we opted for the 2 hour and 30 minutes route as it  avoided tolls, a decision we would soon regret. 

The drive was like previous days’ driving - bumpy, slow, alternating decimated pavement and gravel, and occasional bottom-outs. Before reaching manageable pavement, the bumpy ride was capped off with going over a bridge - a bridge that was actually just a line of metal barges that were connected by haphazardly welded metal sheets that formed steep a-frame inclines. Each time we went over a barge connector, the collective in the car clinched and braced for impact. At each connector, no matter how slow we were going, the base of our car scraped painfully making an awful metal-on-metal noise, akin to nails on chalkboard.  There were points where we though the metal was going to rip off our sump guard. After each barge connection however, to our relief, the sump remained intact and we didn’t notice any fluid dripping from our rear. We continued on to Khiva and were there within the hour. 

Khiva was once a thriving city on the Silk Road and lucky for us and other tourists of Uzbekistan, its historic city walls, old town, medrassas, mosques, and minarets are still perfectly intact. From driving in, Khiva itself seems a bit out of place as its city walls tower above the Karakum desert landscape. According to legend, Noah’s son, Shem, built the city after discovering a fruitful well. By 1592, Khiva then blossomed into a bustling trade post and was made into the region’s provincial capital by Timur, the legendary Uzbek conqueror. Khiva flourished as a bustling slave trading post. During the 1700s, it was decimated by Persian invaders and rebuilt.  Eventually, Khiva was consumed by the Russians and has been preserved to this day. 

We arrived in the heat of day with our two convoy teams. After a quick lunch of shashlyk (kebab), we dumped our things in our hostel, conveniently just outside of the western city gate, and started our search for Uzbek som. Uzbekistan doesn’t take American credit or debit cards anywhere so cash is king. It was Sunday and also the Islam holiday of Eid al-Adha, so we were very fortunate to find a bank that was open. After withdrawing roughly 25 USD or 200,000 Uzbek som and quickly realizing that we needed a rubber band to contain our cash, we began our exploration of Ichon-Qala, old town Khiva. We first stopped at the Juma Mosque and got lost inside among the 218 wooden columns that support the roof. We stopped at a few art and history museums scattered throughout the city, but given that the exhibits offered little to no English, we didn’t get much out of them. The best part of Khiva was wandering the back and side streets and admiring the architecture. While Khiva’s Islom-Hoja and Kalta-minor minaret are the images you’ll see on postcards, I feel like the true spirit of Khiva is seen away from the main tourist draws. Wandering the alley ways that bordered the mud-lined fortress walls, we came across numerous beautiful medrassas complete with intricate blue and teal mosaic tiling. We walked the rim of the city wall and from our elevated perch, it was incredible to see daily family life of Khiva residents persevere so close to the tourist hustle and bustle. Before sunset, we ascended the western city wall’s tower to capture pictures of Khiva basking in the setting sun. The light radiated off the tan buildings and the glistened off the blue and turquoise mosaics. It most definitely was a sunset to remember.

Khiva at sunset - Islom-Hoja (middle) and Kalta-minor (right) minarets dominate the picture

At dinner, we went back into the city with our two convoy rally teams as well as another Brit who happened to be staying at our hostel. This one wasn’t doing the rally but instead was biking around the world. For dinner, we enjoyed manti (dumplings), Uzbek soups, and shivit oshi - a Khiva-only dish of dill noodles, cream sauce, carrot, onion, and beef. We ate underneath a huge medrassa that was illuminated by flood lights as an Uzbek musician laid down some music from his dutar. -FWY

Kalta-minor minaret

Juma Mosque