Irkutsk, 15th August

Prepare for a blizzard of blogging!  Last day in 'civilisation' before heading unto the hills and the Mongolian border.

But before that, my favourite pic of the adventure so far:

This little urchin was playing footie with us in Khiva, and he wasn't at all bad.  The eagle eyed amongst the UKSG will recognise the flashing sunglasses from our 2013 visit to Portugal.  He was absolutely made up with them.  Good luck fella!

So, after Bukhara we headed off to the legendary city of Samarkand.  A jewel of a place with history oozing out of every stone, we had our anorak hoods up for this one.

Brought to prominence by the legendary Timur (Tamerlane, in English speak) in the 14th century, the city is a monument to his conquests, his loves and his legacy.  If you want to read more about this interesting fella, the wiki page is here:http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Timur

His tomb is one of my very favourite spots on earth.  Opinions vary as the effects of the modern restoration, but I think its been done rather niftily.  His tomb is the small black/blue on in the centre of the mausoleum 

 Two grave robbers?

We only had an afternoon and evening here, so we had to pack it in and use plenty of shoe leather.  Always a joy though, after spending days in a car.  The other magnificent must see sight in Samarkand is the Necropolis.  Here Tamurlane's family, generals and ministers are buried.  There's even the tomb of his wet nurse.  The art here is Islam at its best: confident, elegant and outwarding looking. But most of all, so, so beautiful.

So, culture done, anoraks suitably quilted, it was time for a bit of fun.  Samarkand restaurant in Samarkand is quite a joint.  Part restaurant, part family space, part pick up joint, quite a lot of disco and all completely bonkers. 

The next day presented an all too familiar challenge in Uzbekistan: finding petrol.  Whilst all its neighbours are petrol rich (and consequently very rich countries), Uzbekistan has next to none.  Most vehicles therefore run on LPG, which Uzbekistan has a lot of.  Consequently, whilst there are plenty of petrol stations, 95% of them never have petrol.  Peter and I spent the morning trawling them to no avail, until we came across Frank.  Frank had lived in America, spoke perfect English, and like most Uzbeks was very friendly and keen to help us.  He took us to a house which sold petrol from 5L vegetable oil bottles.  You find these guys by spotting a small water bottle outside the house.  Frank found one, checked the quality and negotiated the price.  Good man!

Top man Frank, and Peter

Petrol sorted, it was off to the unknown wilds of Kazakhstan...