Last night everything was pure magic. We were sitting by that huge fountain on University Boulevard — lights dancing on the water, soft music in the air, massive jets shooting up into the starry sky like something out of One Thousand and One Nights. Mom and I were laughing, taking silly photos, letting the cool evening breeze mess up our hair after a scorching day… and apparently that breeze (plus a million tiny water droplets) decided to mess with us a little too much.
By midnight the world started spinning, temperature climbed, and this morning we woke up coughing like a pair of ancient steam engines. Tomorrow we were supposed to hop on the train to Bukhara — tickets bought, hotel booked, the whole plan perfect… but nope. Bodies voted for “home, now.”
So here we are, rolling back to Tashkent, watching cotton fields fly past the window. And you know what? This is the second time Bukhara slips through my fingers. Last trip with my wife — same story: got sick literally the day before departure, also after an evening walk in the wind. There’s some medieval Bukharan curse at work here: “Thou shalt not enter my gates with a runny nose!” 😂 Guess I’ll have to come back a third time, properly armed with scarves, vitamins, and maybe a shaman.
But honestly? Zero sadness.
The most important thing is that Mom is glowing. She still gets sparkles in her eyes when she talks about walking across Registan at sunrise — just the two of us, almost alone on that immense square, the first rays touching the turquoise domes of Ulughbek Madrassah, the silence broken only by pigeons and the call to prayer echoing softly in the distance. She keeps saying, “I never even dreamed I’d see this with my own eyes.” That moment alone was worth every canceled train ticket on earth.
So we’re sipping honey-lemon tea, laughing about our “fountain curse,” and already plotting the next adventure — bigger crew, warmer jackets, no evening fountain sessions (lesson learned 😅).
In a couple of days I’m off to Thailand, Mom flies home to Russia, but Samarkand? Samarkand stays with us forever. A city where time slows down, where every tile whispers about caravans and star-gazing astronomers, where the air still smells like fresh non and ancient dreams.
Bukhara… I’m coming for you on attempt #3. Third time’s the charm, right? 😉
For now — take care of yourselves, stay warm, and see you very soon from the Thai islands! 🌴✨
With love from the Samarkand–Tashkent train,
your forever-slightly-sick-but-ridiculously-happy traveler ❤️
I write my texts myself, correct mistakes and translate via ChatGPT (which is not a violation on Hive)!
All photos were taken by me personally - I am a beginner photographer, so I ask professionals not to judge strictly.
Thank you for sharing these moments with me! Until new stories and new holidays! ✌️
Camera 📷: Sony Alpha 7 IV full-frame
Lens 🔭: Sony FE 70-200mm F: 2.8 GM OSS II
Lens 🔭: Sony FE 90mm F2.8 Macro G OSS
Lens 🔭: Sony FE 20-70 mm F: 4 G
Processed 🛠: Lightroom
photo by openai
