The Land Of Sun, Sea And Sand: Part II

Sunday, 28 January 2018

After 8.5 hours, we finally reached Ghardaïa. Ghardaïa is the largest of the five towns (others are Melika, Beni Isguen, Bou Noura and El-Atteuf) that are often collectively referred to as Ghardaïa. This cluster of five towns is in the river valley of the Oued M’Zab, in a long valley on the edge of the Sahara. M’Zab Valley is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. You could opt to fly here but the flights are usually in the evening and I didn’t want to travel into the city and return back to the airport to fly out to Ghardaïa and then make my way into Ghardaïa late at night. Sure it was still dark when we arrived but dawn was about to break.

We asked the friendly guy if he could recommend or show us the way to the nearest hotel. I had discussed this with CT before we left and we agreed we would not make any prior booking. First off, there are not many hotels listed in booking.com or hotels.com. While the Airbnb shows there are hosts in Ghardaïa, they are mainly in the other towns and we agreed we would stay in Ghardaïa as we wanted to be close to the bus stop. Wait, let me mention briefly about the bus station. I had read bad reviews about the bus station on Tripadvisor etc. Well, what I saw was not so much a bus station but more like a compound for buses to park. There are no seats or waiting room that I could see. There are some bus operator offices at the bus station from where you can buy tickets to other cities. We also asked if he could help us buy bus tickets for the following evening to Sétif.

The guy frowned and said the hotels in the area were not good. Then he seemed to make up his mind and suggested we go to his family home instead. We refused at first because we were still total strangers and didn’t feel we should impose but he insisted. I even told him to ring his mum first and ask her permission but he continued to insist and said as a Muslim, it was his duty to help fellow Muslims in need. We were so touched by this gesture of kindness. I mean, would you open your door and offer your house to a couple of total strangers? I’m sure you would need to think over it for a while but this guy impulsively offered us and while reluctant to accept, we felt it would be rude to refuse and we certainly didn’t want to offend any local custom either. We then introduced ourselves and Faisal (that’s the guy) hailed a cab and we all got in.

It was a brief ride and we were at his family home in less than ten minutes. I wanted to pay but the cabbie didn’t speak English and when Faizal saw this, he waved my offer away. I didn’t want to offend an local custom further and stopped insisting on paying. The morning was starting to get bright then and we went in and met his mother (who spoke only Arabic and French), his sister Widad, his nephew Shaheen who was preparing to go to his kindergarten, and after a while, his youngest brother, Ibrahim (Widad and Ibrahim speak good English, just like Faisal). We were so touched and overwhelmed by the kindness of this family who had two strangers suddenly thrust upon them and yet they overcame any surprise or suspicion and welcomed us into their house and lives with open arms and hearts. Shortly after, another brother came with his wife and son (I can’t recall their names now) and upon seeing me, exclaimed, ‘Nihao, nihao!’ I laughed out in surprise at this. While I’m used to being asked if I was from Korea, Japan and of course China, it does get a little stale after a while (Ibrahim continually teased me throughout my stay saying I’m from China and calling me Sumaiyya (spelling?) after their cousin who has slanted eyes).

After breakfast, we excused ourselves and went to bathe. We were told to go to a room in the upper level so we brought our bags up and used the room to change and freshen up. When we went down again, Ibrahim took us by a shared cab to the centre of Ghardaïa. We walked to the market square then to through the nearby souk and on to shops on the main street. We also climbed up a hill to a hotel from where we enjoyed a bird’s eye view of Ghardaïa and Melika. Then we went to Sidi Abaz Monument and spent some time there.

In the centre of Ghardaïa. The man there is wearing saroual loubia

After that, we walked back to the house for lunch. The mother or Mama as we called her had prepared cous cous lunch and everyone was there: Faisal; Widad, back from her hospital job; the brother and sister-in-law and their son; Mama and Ibrahim of course; and CT and I. Only person absent was Widad’s son, Shaheen. The family was indeed close knit and we had good fun and laugh over our meal. Another sister in Laghouat Faisal’s wife back in Algiers rang in the midst of our lunch to find out about the two visitors from Malaysia.

After afternoon prayers, Faisal took us for a ride around Ghardaïa then we drove through Beni Isguen before going to a wadi where he showed us some bir (well) where they draw water from. He then showed us Bounoura from afar. We returned in the evening.

 Beni Isguen

Bounoura

We had a late dinner and after dinner, we walked to an uncle’s family house nearby. Yes, everyone was excited and curious to meet the two visitors alright. We came back after 11 p.m. and CT and I slept in the living room together with Mama.

Monday, 29 January 2018

I woke up at 4 from some noise from the kitchen. As tired and sleepy as I was, sleep was elusive. I got up after 6 to perform prayers before heading up to bathe and change. Breakfast was waiting when we went down again. I asked Mama if she wasn’t eating and she made a gesture to which I asked, ‘Saum?’ She nodded. OK, so that was why she got up early: to have her pre-dawn meal.

After breakfast, Faisal drove us to El Atteuf. You need a guide if you want to visit Beni Isguen and El Atteuf (I’m not sure about Melika and Bounoura) and we had to wait before the guide arrived. He spoke only French (and Arabic I’m sure) so Faisal had to act as translator for us. El Atteuf is a pretty hilly town with narrow corridors. We also saw some local women all covered up in haik, a head to toe wool wrap that only exposes a single eye (some of the men meanwhile sport extravagantly pleated baggy trousers called saroual loubia – I wanted to buy a pair or two for my dad and nephew but didn’t manage to). In general, you’re not allowed to take pictures of the locals (even in Algiers, Nadjib warned me of this, what more in Ghardaïa which is more conservative) but CT and I managed to get a photo of a woman and a man in their traditional garb respectively.

 Old market square of El Atteuf

A local woman in haik

After the tour, we left and drove to a restaurant which served sumptuous chicken meals for an early lunch. It seemed normal for the locals to just leave the meat bones on the table top and the restaurant staff would clear them all without grumbling. I noticed the same at Faisal’s house too. They would happily eat and leave the meat bones on the table top and only clear them away after the meal.

We drove to the bus station after lunch and Faisal helped buy us the tickets to Sétif. I must also mention here that both Nadjib and Faisal discouraged us from going to Sétif and Djémila, saying that these places in the mountains were where the rebels hid way back then. Still, we were determined to stick to our plan. We decided to take the 22:00 bus instead of the 20:00 bus as the latter would mean we’d arrive too early. We then went to have some tea – frothy tea for CT and me – a regular tea for Faisal before returning to the house. CT and I finally succumbed to a siesta.

We woke up and Wadid served us tea. Then we were informed that another aunt wanted to meet us so off we walked with Mama to this aunt’s house. She has three daughters (only one could speak some English) and a few granddaughters who were clearly fascinated to see us foreigners. We left just before Maghrib so that Mama could break her fast.

After dinner, we packed up – Widad gave us a jacket each (one is leather but oh so heavy) and a scarf each, insisting that we needed them as Sétif is very cold - and after more Kodak moments, Faisal drove us to the bus station. He stayed to ascertain we got on the right bus, ensured we had our seats, helped hauled our bags out of the car boot and into the bus storage area before leaving. He also talked to the driver and conductor and told them to help us get the bus to Djémila when we reached Sétif. What a kind soul and we were ever so lucky to have had our paths crossed with him. Syukur alhamdulillah. I always believe we are meant to be where we are at any particular time. There is a reason for everything as determined by Allah.

The bus left on time and we settled into our seats.

To be continued

The Land Of Sun, Sea And Sand: Part I

I had planned to visit this land previously but in my ditsy state, I went to the wrong airport and when I realised it and rushed to the right one praying that the flight was delayed, I found that the plane had just left. I had forgotten whatever I had planned back then but the intention never went away. I told CT of this land during our trip to the Land of Frankincense last year but was only able to resurrect my research in December 2017 when work pressure eased slightly.

The research continued in earnest in January; I was hoping for more but it is not a land usually frequented by visitors and information is either limited or quite old. I only bought our air tickets less than a fortnight before departure and waited until the last possible minute to change money, hoping the Euro would depreciate further but of course it didn’t. As we would only be there for a week, I suggested we depart late on Friday instead of Saturday (the air fare would also be lower if we departed on Friday) and CT agreed.

I drew up the following rough itinerary and emailed it to a couple of Algerian friends:

Friday, 26 January 2018. Day of departure.

Saturday, 27 January: Algiers. Tipaza. Night bus to Ghardaïa

Sunday, 28 January: Arrive Ghardaïa early morning. Overnight in Ghardaïa

Monday, 29 January: Second day in Ghardaïa. Night bus to Sétif (bus to Constantine via Sétif departs at 20:30 – info as of 3 years ago)

Tuesday, 30 January: Arrive Sétif and on to Cuicil Roman ruins at Djémila. Depart for Batna, overnight in Batna/Timgad

Wednesday, 31 January: Visit Timgad. Depart for Constantine?/El Eulma by bus/train (there’s also train fr Sétif to Constantine and Sétif /El Eulma to Algiers), overnight in night bus/train

Thursday, 1 February: Arrive Algiers early morning, visit Tipaza, overnight in Algiers

Friday, 2 February: Mid-day, depart for airport and flight back to MY

They both replied that my plan was too ambitious, if I travel as if I was racing, that the public transportation in Algeria is lacking and is nowhere near anything like Japan’s, that I should be realistic as I would be jetlagged after a long flight and should take into account the language barrier. While I appreciated their feedback, I was surprised at their low confidence in me and the public transportation. If anything, their feedback spurred stubborn me into wanting to prove them wrong. Besides, this is not the first time I’d embarked on something crazy and hectic.

Friday, 26 January 2018

Kuala Lumpur-Istanbul

My colleague kindly dropped me at KL Sentral after work and I took the 20:30 coach (it arrived late and departed only at 20:45) to KLIA. We had checked in online (the airline website was unhelpful so I had to find another site to do this) so I wasn’t overly worried. The queue was short but slow. We were given boarding passes for both KUL-IST and IST-ALG.

Saturday, 27 January 2018

Istanbul-Algiers; Algiers-Tipaza-Algiers; Algiers-Ghardaïa

We landed at IST at 06:20 and after going through the transfer process, went to perform morning prayers. We just had enough time after that to walk to our gate and immediately board the plane. Clumsy klutz me spilled my water all over my seat and the Turkish guy next to me; fortunately, he didn’t really raise hell although if he did, I would thoroughly understand. He spoke to the cabin crew who calmly went to get some freshening up cotton towels and I sheepishly wiped myself and seat down.

We landed in Algiers at 09:40 and after going through immigration process, went to collect our bags. We had been advised by Imen not to change money at the bank or money changer but to change our money in the black market. Oh, and if you’re heading there, they prefer Euros to USD. We were finally approached by a chap who offered us 160 dinar to each Euro. Another guy offered us 150 dinar so we settled for 160 dinar. We decided to change €50 and change more downtown.

After that, we walked out of the terminal and asked for directions to the bus stop. Turn right when you exit and walked past the car park on your left and continued on until you hit a roundabout and turn left to find the bus station. We had to wait about half an hour before a bus came and after that for the bus to fill up. Welcome to Algeria!

Bus from the airport to the city

We got down near Park Sofia and walked up to La Grande Poste d’Alger where we were to meet Nadjib, one of my Algerian acquaintances. He showed up about ten minutes later and we got into his car. It was Saturday and the streets were full of people. He couldn’t park anywhere so had to circle the block before he saw us. We then drove to Tipaza, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, about 55 km or an hour away.

La Grande Poste

After parking his car, Nadjib led us to the Tipaza Roman Ruins. We paid the entrance ticket of 100 dinar and wandered around the site. Walk on further past the theatre and you’ll come upon a corridor of columns which lead you to the Mediterranean Sea. This sprawling complex includes the coastal hills and even though the ruins are not that well preserved (probably also due to the elements), the setting sure is spectacular. We had agreed to meet Nadjib after an hour but it was enough time to explore the complex.

We went to perform prayers at Mosque Nour el Islam at Place des Martyrs – fortunately for us, there’s a section for women because women are generally not allowed into mosques in Algeria – before continuing our tour to the small Tipaza Port. Then we returned back to the car and drove back to Algiers. I finally managed to doze off for a short while in the car.

It had rained in Algiers and pretty heavily too during our absence from the look of the wet roads. We went to a restaurant to have dinner before Nadjib drove us to Gare Routiere du Caroubier (the main bus station in Algiers for intercity buses) and helped us buy tickets for the bus to Ghardaïa. We decided to take the 22:00 bus and paid 1,150 dinar each (if my memory serves me right). We then thanked Nadjib and bade him goodbye. As it was still early, we went to perform prayers and used the bathroom before boarding the bus. A local guy chatted up CT asking if she was a doctor and he helped show us to our seats and show us the bathroom when the bus stopped at a rest area sometime during the journey. He sat across the aisle from us and read the Quran throughout except the few times when he succumbed to sleep.

To be continued

The Land Of White Gold: Part III

Tuesday, 26 December 2017

We woke up to an overcast morning and indeed it had even rained earlier. It was forecasted to be cold today with the temperature struggling to reach 1C so I bundled up. We had breakfast before leaving for Al Bukhari Complex about 25 km away from the city in a village called Hartang. Imam Al Bukhari was an important figure in Islam; he collected thousands of hadiths. He was a hafeez too. We spent some time here paying our respects before leaving.

Our hired driver dropped us near Registan Ensemble and we walked to the three madrasahs there: the Ulugbek on the left if you’re standing facing them, Tilla Kari in the centre and Shirdor on the right and across from Ulugbek. Ulugbek Madrasah was built in the 15 Century, followed by Shirdor (it has two tiger mosaic on the face of the madrasah) and Tilla Kari which was built 10 years after Shirdor was completed. We spent quite a while here, including a detour to a nearby mosque to use its facilities. It had started to drizzle again when we were at the Registan Ensemble.

Ulugbek Madrasah

Tilla Kari Madrasah

Shirdor Madrasah

After that, we walked down Tashkent Road to Bibikhanum Mosque. Bibikhanum was the wife of Amir Timur, a great Uzbek warrior and hero. We spent a short while here (well, short compared to Registan Ensemble!). Bibikhanum’s tomb is just across the street from the mosque named after her. We also saw Khazrat Khizr from afar; it was undergoing reconstruction. After that we walked down and took a cab to a restaurant for lunch. The rain had gotten heavier by then.

Lunch was the usual fare of nan bread, a choice of salad, soup and lemon tea. So good to have piping hot food on a rainy day!

The rain was still falling when we left for Shakhi Zinda Necropolis. There are three levels of structure: lower, middle and upper. The details are really beautiful although I couldn’t help feeling slightly apprehensive. ‘I hope I won’t get nightmares tonight,’ I told Nit. I had a long nightmare immediately after visiting Kom Ombo temple.

The rain finally petered off and we hailed another cab to Gur-Emir Mausoleum aka Amir Timur Mausoleum. We didn’t walk straight to the mausoleum though but crossed the street first to the statue of Amir Timur. It had started drizzling again then but we persevered. We climbed up and spent some Kodak moments there before making our way to the mausoleum. The mausoleum houses Timur’s tomb and his direct descendants. We sat here for a bit admiring the architecture of the mausoleum. I’m not sure if beautiful is the right word to describe a mausoleum but it certainly is breathtaking.

We were then accosted by some shopkeepers (typical!) and I reluctantly followed them and Nit down the catacombs where the shop is. I was tempted by some camel hair shawl and some lovely plates but in the end left empty-handed.

On our way to grab a cab back, we passed Rukhabad Mausoleum. We didn’t linger though as it was already getting dark. We also stopped at the train ticket office; unfortunately, we were later informed by Elzod that the train tickets to Tashkent had already sold out (we were supposed to return back to Tashkent by fast train). As it had begun raining again in earnest, we asked for Elzod to buy some dinner for us to go. Oh, and in the end, we stayed the second night at Konstantin Hotel too.

Wednesday, 27 December 2017

Alhamdulillah, the day began clear and bright. We left at 09:40 and after a brief stop, continued our journey to Tashkent. It took 4 hours and we checked back into Hotel Uzbekistan which we stayed at on the first night. I insisted on performing prayers first and quickly performed ablutions and prayers before going down to meet up Elzod. We then took a cab to a restaurant for lunch. I had some Uyghur noodles on top of nan bread and salad. Delicious!

After lunch, we drove to Khazret Imam Ensemble with the Museum of Quran where we viewed a unique manuscript of Quran of Usman (7AD) which was brought to Samarqand by Amir Timur in 14 Century. No photos are allowed in the museum though. After that, we drove to Chorsu Bazaar aka Eski Juva Bazaar. Before shopping, we went in search of a bank to exchange money and where I finally changed money into Uzbekistan Som. I was going to change USD40 but thought it was too much so changed only USD30. After all, the bazaar was closing at 6. We then set upon the task of buying our souvenirs: ceramic plates with pomegranate design and some honey for me. I finally bought four plates (dang heavy!) and Elzod offered to get me some honey. I paid USD10 for the honey.

Khazret Imam 

Not supposed to take photo but I took a quick snap of this Quran in Hebrew with my iPad *shhh*

After the shopping was done, we took the metro from Chorsu station to Alisher Navai (a beautiful station named after a poet) where we walked to Pakhtakor (literally means cotton grower) station and took the train to Bunyodkor. We had dinner at Olmazor Restaurant and had norin, a horse meat and noodles dish. Wow, it was quite rich and I could barely eat more than a few spoonfuls. We dropped by a nearby supermarket before taking the metro back to the hotel.

Thursday, 28 December 2017

We woke up early and had breakfast in the huge hotel restaurant. We checked out at 09:30 and drive to Chimgan, a ski resort, about two hours away. Elzod’s uncle who is the GM of the local tour company drove us there. Upon arrival, we took the chairlift up. Both Nit and I were sporting inappropriate footwear (Converse All Stars for me) but well no snow was going to stop us! We spent about an hour up there before returning down to the bottom and after dealing with persistent photographers who were trying to sell the photos they took of us, we went to the car park where Elzod’s uncle was waiting. We then drove through some village and after a while came upon Chorvoq Lake. We stopped for a short while before continuing on.

We stopped at a small town and went up to a restaurant. I was heading for the washroom when I met some Singaporeans who were about to perform prayers. I asked if it was ok and they said they had asked permission to do so and the restaurant had allocated some space for them to do so. I decided to join them as I was sure we would reach Tashkent just before dark.

After a satisfying lunch, we drove back to Tashkent. Nit was content to converse and I was happy to let her talk while I read my book. Suddenly the conversation steered around the richest man in Uzbekistan and I asked, ‘Is it Alisher Usmanov?’ and they said yes (to be honest, I can’t recall Alisher’s nationality and was just guessing). I said that I knew of him as he has shares in Arsenal. The things football teach you.

We reached Tashkent at around 5 and went to collect our bags from the store room. Nit was supposed to collect the bags but she decided to browse the hotel shop first (WTH) so I took back the bag tags and went to find the man manning the concierge. After getting our bags, I wheeled them to Nit and took mine to the washroom to change. I took all of five minutes to use the bathroom and change and Nit had still not finished browsing the hotel shop. And then I had to wait for the longest time while she went to visit the bathroom. Honestly, surely people should be more considerate and thoughtful when they travel with someone else.

We then drove to the airport, stopping en route for Elzod to run and buy us some beef burgers (I tell you, meat and the Uzbeks cannot be separated!). There was a horrible jam at the airport car park entrance and we only cleared it after 15 minutes. Elzod helped show us the way to departure and we then said goodbye, wished him good luck and gave him a little tip. The check-in counters were late in opening so while waiting, we used the washroom and I performed prayers too. No prayer room is provided so I performed prayers in the vast open space outside the washroom (and I had finished Maghrib and Isya’ prayers before Nit emerged from the bathroom).

We then checked in, filled up another declaration form and went through immigration and security. I wanted to change back the remaining UZS I had (easily USD5) but the money changer said I couldn’t sell off my UZS so I had no choice but to buy fridge magnets (I’ve not bought fridge magnets for some trips now). Our flight was delayed and we finally boarded and took about an hour later than scheduled.

Friday, 29 December 2017

We landed in Singapore after 8 and after a short transit, we boarded the plane back to KL. The plane would continue on back to Tashkent after a bit of transit in KL. We landed at 10:15 and I was reunited with my bag an hour later.

The Land Of White Gold: Part II

Sunday, 24 December 2017

I woke up early and went to the lobby to access WiFi. Nit and I then went down for breakfast and my, what a lovely spread it was that awaited us! I’m a firm believer of breakfasting like a king and ate accordingly. We then met up with Elzod and began our tour.

Breakfast spread. Note the ceramic plates by the wall. The teapot, tea and coffee cups and even plates bear cotton motifs (cotton is the white gold of Uzbekistan). They do love their meat and the humble nan bread (in the basket) accompanies all Uzbek meals

We crossed over to The Ark which is a massive fortress which was a mini-town way back when. It was the used as a fortress to protect the city until the Battle of Bukhara when the Red Army invaded the city. There is a mosque, a hall to receive guests, stable and some museums. We also had a good view over the city from the fortress.

After spending some at The Ark, we crossed over to Bolo Hauz Mosque (bolo means children) and had a look inside. We then made our way to Chasma Ayub Mausoleum. After that, we walked past Saminid Shrine before taking two taxies in our search for Plov rice, which is the national dish of Uzbekistan. Alas, it being a Sunday, we were not successful and finally we had an inadequate lunch at Moxi Chechri Xamon Restaurant. The restaurant was clearly expecting a large group of diners but was unable to cook up any substantial meal for us apart from some soup and salad.

We took a cab to the bazaar and spent about an hour there before returning back to the hotel. The day had started turning overcast by now. We ventured out again in the early evening and had dinner at a restaurant near Bolo Hauz Mosque. It was here when I heard the call to prayer for the first time (Isya’ prayers) in Uzbekistan. Elzod had told us that call to prayers are not made loudly over there due to government regulation. How sad when Muslims made up the majority of the population! We had a satisfying meal, including a plate of noodles cooked according to Uyghur style; however, I had a lot of wind in my tummy and had a tummy ache not unlike gastritis and did not particularly enjoy my dinner. As there were leftovers, we asked the restaurant to pack the chicken and noodles for us.

Monday, 25 December 2017

We were supposed to leave early this morning so we went down for breakfast at 7. Nit brought down the chicken and noodles from the previous dinner and asked the kitchen staff to help heat them up for us. We left just after 8 – Nit was running late as usual and I had to help wheel her suitcase to the stairs and asked Elzod to help lug it down (no lifts in the hotel). It was an overcast morning. We drove to Bakhautdin Naqshband (Bahouddin Nakshbandi) Mausoleum just outside Bukhara. He was an important sufi figure who established the Nakshbandi sufi order. We spent about 45 minutes here before driving on to Samarqand, stopping twice for restroom and then to refuel.

We arrived in sunny Samarqand at 12:30. Samarqand is the third largest city in Uzbekistan but is more crowded than Bukhara. We were caught in the lunchtime rush hour and it took a while before we reached Konstantin Hotel. Our travel agent back in KL had advised that our hotel in Samarqand was supposed to be Regal Palace Hotel but I didn’t say anything as I thought the plans had changed. We had checked in and enjoyed some hot tea and coffee when Elzod told us that we had checked into the wrong hotel. The hotel he had on his info sheet was Konstantin Hotel. Elzod then spent some time discussing with the reception and on the phone with his office to settle the issue. Finally it was decided that we would spend one night there and check out the next day.

We then took a cab to a very near Zafar Restaurant for lunch. There were a lot of people in the restaurant and a few of them even got up to dance to the music. After lunch, we went to a nearby supermarket before crossing over to the Museum of History and Culture. Elzod was keen to bring us to the bazaar but having experienced the bazaar in Bukhara just the day before, we were not too keen to visit another one. Besides, we would be visiting a bazaar in Tashkent and the museum is just around the corner from our hotel that it’d be a shame if we didn’t visit it. We could learn a lot from museum visits too. So we paid 17,000 Uzbekistani Som (UZS; USD1 ~ UZS8,050) for the ticket and an additional UZS5000 each for our cameras. We spent about an hour in there before returning to the hotel.

We ventured out in the evening in search of dinner. We went to Zafar Restaurant but left shortly after. Elzod then told us there would be some strippers coming to the restaurant and he didn’t want to be a part of it. We finally had dinner at Bogishamol Café. It looked like a fast food restaurant but still served us soup, salad, nan bread and lemon tea.

To be continued

The Land Of White Gold: Part I

I have always wanted to visit Central Asia and as my plan to visit another region failed to materialise as neither of the two travel agents that normally organise trips there had it on offer for the last week of December, I decided it was time to visit Uzbekistan. I contacted a travel agent and was informed that it could arrange a tour for at least two people and then persuaded Nit, a colleague, to come along for the trip. We had to pay a slightly higher price for the tour package as the usual airline allocation had sold out and had to go on the next higher economy fare. The first payment was made to secure the air ticket while the balance was made about a month before departure. We then had to fill up visa application form and provide two photos for this purpose and the travel agent then submitted our application to the embassy.

Friday, 22 December 2017

I had spent the evening before at Akak’s place and my nieces drove me to Putrajaya station just after 08:30 for the KLIA Transit train to KLIA. I used my card to buy the ticket at the kiosk to enjoy the 10% discount off ticket price and then sat to wait for the train. The check-in counter at KLIA for Uzbekistan Airways is at counter M and I was queuing with other fellow travellers before long and used the time to observe the exotic locals. I then went in immediately and browsed some boutiques before heading for my gate.

The flight took off an hour later than scheduled. I was not happy with my assigned seat and moved places twice (I had just sat at row 20 when two girls came up breathless having just boarded the plane *opps* and had to move again, to row 13 this time). There were a lot of families in that section and I wondered if that was why I was assigned to the back row.

I couldn’t sleep but of course and spent time reading my book and the inflight magazine, which turned out to be a good thing for it was full of information on the country. Prior to landing, we had to fill in two copies of landing form (one copy will be retained by the customs officer while the other copy is to be kept by passenger until he departs the country) where among others we have to declare all foreign currencies brought in (this is because the Uzbek Government doesn’t want precious foreign currencies leaving the country), the jewellery brought in and any electrical equipment brought into the country. I went to ask a cabin crew twice on how to fill up the form and left detailed instructions to Nit on how to fill it as she was sleeping every time I went to check on her.

We landed at 17:15 local time (Uzbekistan is three hours behind) and had to be ferried to the terminal building by buses. I tried looking out for Nit but didn’t see her even until after I had collected my suitcase and cleared the customs. It turned out that she had cleared immigration and customs ahead of me and was already waiting outside. I dithered if I should change some money at the airport before deciding not to.

Our young guide, Elzod, was already waiting for us and we were heading out of the airport before long to the city. There was a traffic jam heading out of the airport which we managed to shrug off after a while. We were taken to a local restaurant for dinner (tomato and cucumber salad and some meat on a skewer and lemon tea) before we were driven to Hotel Uzbekistan to check in. Our room was huge and overlooked Amir Timur Square. The hotel (and subsequent hotels) did not provide electrical kettle in the room – good thing Nit brought one in her huge suitcase – or tea/coffee for guests. I went to bed after performing prayers as I was too knackered and I didn’t manage to doze off during the flight. Plus we had an early morning start.

Saturday, 23 December 2017

I woke up at a quarter to 5 and took a shower. After packing up, we left and went to check out. The front desk returned our passports and gave a slip which we needed to keep. Elzod had told us to be ready by 6 and although we had informed the front desk that we wanted a packed breakfast, we ended up waiting for 20 minutes before it was ready. It was a good thing that the roads were clear and we reached the domestic airport in good time. After checking in, we went in and waited for our flight. I had gotten hungry and had the pear which was in the breakfast pack.

We had to take a bus to our plane which was an ATR aircraft. I was hoping for a sandwich and some warm drink during the flight but we were only served a cup of soda each. We landed at Bukhara Airport at 9 and waited a while for our bags before walking out and taking a taxi to Caravan Hotel. It felt somewhat colder in Bukhara that morning compared to Tashkent even though we arrived in Tashkent in the evening. Elzod had informed that we would begin our tour in Bukhara at noon but when I met him later at the lobby when I was utilising the WiFi (only available at the hotel lobby and not in the room. This and the faint unpleasant smell in the bathroom are my only complaints about this hotel), he said we could commence our tour an hour earlier so we left at 11 for the old town nearby. We first went to Kalyan Mosque, Kalyan Minaret aka Death Minaret because criminals were pushed off the minaret back then to their death, and Miri Arab Madrasah. The madrasah is still functioning to this day; unfortunately, women are not allowed inside. We also visited a few other nearby madrasahs which no longer function as madrasahs but instead housed shops. We also walked past the bazaar before having lunch at the restaurant of Lyab-I Hauz.

Hotel courtyard

After lunch, we continued walking to the older parts of the old town before returning to the hotel to rest. I saw some hostels and budget hotels but Elzod told me the hostels are for local travellers. We went out again at 18:30 and took a cab to Cho Xona Chinor Restaurant (cho = tea and xona = place so it literally translates to Tea House) for dinner. We had mastovo soup and nan bread (this and salad are a must for all Uzbek meals!).

To be continued

The Year That Was: 2017

2017 was another year that started slow enough but sped along somewhere along the way and before I knew it, the year was almost gone. It was another year full of challenges, trials and tribulations, sweat and tears, and at times testing, tiring and trying. As usual, the headlines focused on natural catastrophes and disasters, calamities, displacements, tragedies, the continuing senseless war in Syria, starvation in Yemen, war against IS and terrorism, and the debate over global warming (it’s real, accept it and deal with it already!). There were also the news of the mass exodus of the Rohingyas, the uncovering of the sexual harassment and rape by Harvey Weinstein and the never-ending hilarious statements by the President of the U Ass if you care to be bothered to follow his tweets. We also have our own comedy right here involving money (lost but of course), poor governance and financial mismanagement. After all, those are what made the headlines: sensational, disturbing, shocking, mind-numbing news.

I continued following some accounts/pages on Twitter, IG and Facebook to have an idea of the world and its happenings but that’s about it. I’m hardly on FB otherwise. Alhamdulillah, I managed to equal my previous year’s reading total of 150 books and spent almost every night reading the Quran, especially Yassin for Mummy and those who had departed and a couple of other surahs. I would admit to stumbling from the straight and narrow every now and then and am continuing to be a better Muslimah.

I had to take more emergency leave as my dad’s health started failing which meant I took more leave compared to the year before. Alhamdulillah, I still managed to squeeze in some trips:

January: Had office teambuilding in Cherating during the third weekend then flew to Dubai via Cochin, India, on the first day of Chinese New Year before travelling overland to Oman

February: Came back from Oman and a few days later, spent Thaipusam weekend at Tanjong Jara Resort

March: Didn’t manage any trips

April: Spent a short weekend in Penang then flew out to Warsaw at month-end

May: Came back from Europe after brief pitstops in Paris and London

June: Didn’t manage to make any trip ;’(

July: Flew to Sydney to meet Arsenal

August: Didn’t manage to make any trip ;’(

September: Trip to Kota Bharu and returned to Pangkor Laut Resort

October: Trip to Singers

November: Day trip to Kuala Pilah

December: Year-end trip to Uzbekistan

Arsenal won the FA Cup again and as mentioned above, I flew to Sydney to meet them. But I’ve not been pleased with them thus far this season and have stopped being emotionally invested in them. After all, there are a lot of other things more important in life in the larger scheme of things anyway: death, life, good health, wealth, a strong iman, love. I do catch the occasional match but I have stopped following them as fervently as I used to.

I have continued cutting down on chicken and meat consumption but can’t quite stop eating junk food. I continued my morning walks and have even taking to jogging 4 km on every other Sunday. Whenever I do that, I feel like collapsing and throwing up but boy, does it feel so good after that. I walk an average 5 km daily (even more on weekends) and take short cat naps during lunchtime after some reading. I continue carrying my water bottle and shopping bags almost everywhere. I aim to shop only for quality brands now and not waste money on lower quality goods which won’t last long anyway. I want to eat healthily (save for the occasional junk food craving) and purchase food items just enough that I don’t run the risk of wasting them. I think even Jamie Oliver said it’s better to buy in small quantities if you’re cooking for a small number. Sure, it would be economical to buy in larger quantities but what’s the point if you’re going to end up wasting them? I also want to continue trying to be a responsible and environmentally-aware citizen of the earth and traveller.

Anyway, Happy New Year 2018. May this year bring us all much joy, happiness, love, iman, good health, wealth, success and prosperity, peace and good fortune. May we be strong enough to face come what may, insyaAllah and amen.

Sometimes Words Just Ain’t Enough

Sometimes I want to share things here but can’t quite find the words to string my thoughts together. Sometimes I have disjointed thoughts. Sometimes I get overwhelmed that it is all I can do to stop myself from screaming out loud (well, actually, I do that sometimes too: scream out loud but with no sound coming out. I call it screaming out loud in silence).

Sometimes I have so many things to say but can’t express myself. Sometimes I hold myself back because I think I already have talked too much. Sometimes I think too much and I don’t want to do that. Overthinking and over-worrying, that’s not healthy because sometimes they rob me off sleep and I don’t and should not stress myself with things I can’t control (easier said than done!).

How easy it would be to have selective telepathy ability where I don’t have to say anything but the other person can just read my mind to a certain extent. Then no one would have arguments that go along, ‘Well, I can’t read your bloody mind!’ and ‘Oh, am I supposed to be a mind-reader now?!’

Sometimes words aren’t necessary but sometimes they just ain’t enough.

P.S. Excuse this post. I’m having those disjointed thoughts again and yes, sometimes it’s just better to just keep quiet and that’s why I’ve been quiet the past few weeks. Happy New Year 2018 and oh what a drag it is to face and endure another long whole year all over again.