Memories of Tashkent

Tashkent is the capital of Uzbekistan. Compared to Samarkand or Bukhara, it is a city where is somewhat lacking in tourist appeal. Most travelers probably stay here just to transfer between the airport and trains.

In Tashkent, there is a hotel called “Hotel Uzbekistan.” My wife’s co-worker knows a lot about “Stan” countries and says the building has a distinctive Soviet-style charm, apparently it is worth seeing.

It was easy to imagine that Soviet-style charm would not necessarily go hand in hand with comfort. However, I started thinking that if I was going out to see the hotel, I could stay there. Surely it would be more comfortable than that charming monastery in Bulgaria.

I had planned to stay in Tashkent on the day of arrival and the night before departure. Both stays were for connection with trains, I booked the two nights at a mid-class hotel near Tashkent Central Station. I decided to change the booking for the night before returning Japan to Hotel Uzbekistan.

Given its Soviet-era charm, Hotel Uzbekistan must be a large hotel. I expected to find availability easy, but booking turned out difficult. Whether it was because many travelers sought Soviet-era charm, it actually managed to balance comfort, or the hotel heavily discounted for group tours — I could not tell — but no vacancies appeared after several searches.

A week before departure, one room became available on a booking site, priced at around JPY25,000 per night. That was highest-end rate for a hotel in Uzbekistan, besides it was more than double of its regular charge. I had no choice but to pass. Vacancy might have been an error on the booking site anyway.

In the end, I gave up staying at Hotel Uzbekistan.

Since I could not get a high-speed train ticket back from Bukhara to Tashkent, I rode a regular express train for nearly six hours. By the return trip, my Silk Road sentiment had faded, and I just slept the whole way.

I woke up just before arriving at Tashkent Station, I tried to use my iPhone. However, it did not respond. Apparently, the train did not have WiFi, so that the iPhone kept searching for a phone signal in the middle of the desert while I slept. The battery had drained completely without I noticed about it. Since I did not have a portable charger, regretting that I should have kept the iPhone in airplane mode on the train was too late.

Not being able to use my iPhone in Uzbekistan meant I could not hail a car via ride-sharing app. Without map app, the subway was practically unusable too. My only choice seemed haggling with taxi touts.

However, this was the timing that turned misfortune into fortune. Since I could not book Hotel Uzbekistan, I simply had to return to the near-station hotel where I had stayed on the arrival day. I had taken a taxi to the station, but it was walkable distance even with a suitcase.

Though Uzbekistan is an Islamic country, I heard they produce beer, vodka, and wine. Being a fan of distilled spirits, I hoped that they would distill grapes and produce brandy. I even brought packing materials for bottles.

I researched that there was a winery in Samarkand, so I anticipated finding brandy there. However, I spent too much time photographing in Samarkand and unable to visit the winery. Moreover, even though the culture is relatively tolerant of alcohol drinking, it is fundamentally Islamic. I could not find liquor stores in Samarkand nor Bukhara.

Considering packing, I wished to buy fragile bottles before hotel checkout. The liquor store, where I bought beer on the day I arrived in Uzbekistan, was located on the walking route from the station to the hotel. When I bought beer, I checked they also sold brandy. I also confirmed the store was opened for 24 hours. My life is full of oversights, but I am thorough in moments like this.

When I went to the liquor store, perhaps for security reasons, I had to order through a window on the door during late night. I could not read the Cyrillic labels, besides I could not use translation app since my iPhone was not working. I was only able to judge by the age and price written in numbers. I pointed to the brandy with the highest age and bought it.

After returning Japan, I brought the brandy to a bar and it was delicious. I would just have to ignore the fact that it was made in Ukraine. In the times like these, I had no idea how the logistics system worked, but I would think of it as unexpectedly supporting Ukraine.

Tashkent was not a city that went exactly as expected, but it was also a city that went as expected. I suppose all’s well that ends well.

Besides, I am now fully sure that my life is full of oversights.