Leaving Tashkent was an absolute nightmare. Busy roads, disobedient drivers (do drivers ever follow the rules) and badly built roads. The worst part was leaving the city past the airport and market. There is only one road and it has everyone stopping to pick up people and goods. There was one police car watching the chaos and occasionally they would put the sirens on but no one cared and the chaos continued. It seems to pick people up and cargo is far more important than keeping the road clear and safe! Much like school pick-up in the UK!
It was then time to join a long dull road; Uzbekistan seems to have a few of these. It was the only way over the Qamchiq pass to the Fergana Valley. For my first night on this journey, I decided to camp behind a petrol station. It was out of sight and with a wall in the way quiet. I was not alone. There was a family staying there in a temporary shelter, keeping an eye on their crops and a herd of cows. They allowed me to put up my tent.
It was interesting seeing this part of a family’s life, specifically just the son and father and a couple of other farm workers. In the evening and morning, they would milk the cows by hand. Whilst the adults moved the larger cows, the son had to collect the calves for the nighttime location. Something he was struggling with. One of the calves had become quite aggressive towards him and knocked him over. I stepped in to help; it was a long time since I did anything with cows or calves. However, it was fairly easy to placate the calf and restrain him from attacking.
Avoiding the rain
Something I have never really had to do since arriving in Central Asia is avoiding the rain; however, today I had to. I managed to come across a town about 40km before the start of the climb. Diving into a cafe and grabbing lunch, cake and coffee! I was there for a few hours and used the time to catch up with the journal and blog. I’m still behind; I feel I will always be!
The final 40km to my camping spot, only 50m from the barracks (Tajikistan is really close), was beautiful but was an undulating road. The type of roads I dislike. I prefer to be climbing up or going down or just plain flat. None of this up-and-down undulating rubbish! The Qamchiq pass was a 1,070m climb to over 2,268m. It took me over 3 hours but was enjoyable at least.
The descent, once past the guards, who had to check the passport, was great fun. You zoom past the trucks and pick up so much speed you start to worry about stopping. The Fergana Valley is more conservative, so you are expected to wear full-length trousers, but it is hot! Not much fun. I did for the first few days but then decided shorts for riding and trousers once I stopped.
Naming of a road
I arrived in Margilan and headed to the silk factory. The main attraction for the area and most of Fergana Valley! Silk production here in Fergana is how the road got its name. The factory was undergoing a full-scale renovation so there was very little to see, but they did leave a room with all the equipment in working so you could see the process.
It starts with the silkworm and its cocoon. The cocoon is then heated with others and attached to a spindle and the threads are extracted and sorted. The higher grade is used for garments, and the lower for rugs and carpets. The final process of making rugs/garments can take months depending on the size and complexity. But is all done individually.
I do wonder if the factory will retain its original feel or whether it will become a modern factory with lots of stainless steel and more machines than people.
There was a nice homestead in the same town; many other travellers had descended on the same place. I had arranged to volunteer to help to teach English in the Fergana Valley. However, the host asked me to arrive a day later. I now had to go slow! This meant I also got to visit the Qumtepa bazaar with all the silk sellers. It was a busy market on the edge of town but was intriguing. Some people not understanding the restricted space, ride their bike and sell bread through the tight paths full of people. Children running around and staring at foreigners or trying to get their pictures taken.
Kokand and time for a change of scenery
By the time I visited the Kokand palace, whilst it is splendid and represents the style of the region and many other Islamic buildings in the region, I was finding it dull. There is only so much of that same architectural style you can take! I think it was time I moved on from Uzbekistan. There was also an old wooden mosque but with an entry fee of 25k, I decided to give it a pass. The cemetery with its mini-mosques, mausoleum to the Khan family of Kokand and many other areas was a highlight. Peaceful and gave you time to calm down and reflect on the busy city.
I still had a day before I could arrive for my volunteering assignment, so a little camp near a village was needed. I managed to hide in the middle of a wood on the side of a road. It would do for a night. Getting up early I made it to the town for breakfast, but most places were still shut! Uzbeks are late risers. But I did find one spot open and they had Samsas, a mini pastry full of meat and vegetables, they were so shocked to see a foreigner that they gave me two for free and a pot of tea! It was a nice way to be welcomed.
Time to help teach children English!