Uzbekistan > The palace of Timur Lenk

Milko is having problems with his motorcycle. The exhaust connection, which had been repaired in Baku, has come loose again. He also experiences issues when accelerating—the engine loses power and even stalls. This needs to be repaired before we can continue driving. While the motorcyclists work on Milko’s bike, we set up our chairs in front of the hotel. There’s nothing else to do but wait.

Uzbekistan - A statue of the 13thcentury ruler

We take the opportunity to check Brutus. All fluid levels are fine. In the air filter, besides numerous insects, we find a butterfly and a small stone. No idea how such a stone ended up in the snorkel opening. We clean the filter and put it back. Around half past two, the motorcyclists signal with white smoke. The exhaust is repaired, and the fuel filter has been cleaned. The men decide not to ride anymore today and to set off very early tomorrow morning. They prefer to cover the long stretch to Dushanbe in a single day. We decide to drive a little now and visit the city of Shahrisabz along the way—the city where Timur Lenk had his palace in the 13th century. Around the mausoleum, the area has completely changed compared to my visit four years ago. Luc had warned us about this yesterday.

Uzbekistan - The remains of the entrance gate of Timur Lenks palace

A large park now lies between the mausoleum and the former palace. Along the edges, new shops are being built. This modernization does not enhance the atmosphere. The mausoleum itself is also under restoration. Some doors are open due to the work, and we slip inside to take a look. On the other side of the park stands the palace and the statue of Timur Lenk. Afterwards, we look for somewhere to eat in Shahrisabz. Around the palace, only new buildings remain. The restaurants are not yet open. In the old center, we spot a small restaurant. Men sit on lounge benches, drinking tea, waiting for the sun to set due to Ramadan. Would we be able to order food here? The rather large waiter nods affirmatively. Half-sitting, half-lying on a lounge bench, we eat soup and lachman, a kind of spaghetti. We then decide to drive another 90 kilometers to Guzar. This way, we only have 300 kilometers to cover to Dushanbe tomorrow. At a viewpoint along the road, vendors rush over.

Uzbekistan - Soup with noodles

The boys are selling nuts. We buy a bag of pistachios—nice for tonight. In Guzar, we cannot find a hotel at first. Surely there must be accommodation? When we ask, several people get involved. A man gestures from his car. “Follow me,” we assume. He points us to the driveway of a hotel a little further on. The doorman opens the gate, and we park the car. The doorman rushes over. We are not parked properly. Just as he is about to show us where to park, Brutus won’t start. It sounds like the battery is dead. The doorman helps push the car into a parking space. We check both batteries—they are fine. We have no idea what could be wrong. Could it be the heat? After a few minutes, the car starts again as usual. Strange. The hotel resembles more of a sports boarding school. It is situated around sports facilities. Inside, there are small rooms with a shared shower. At first, we think the man is joking when he says the toilet is outside. But when he points across the parking lot, it really is—more than a hole in the ground, it is not. Although the hotel is simple, it is a perfectly fine place to sleep. In the parking lot, we unfold our chairs and enjoy the nuts and a beer. It stays sultry and warm outside for a long time.