Samarqand the Golden?!

We travel not for trafficking alone
By hotter winds our fiery hearts are fanned
For lust of knowing what should not be known
We take the Golden Road to Samarkand

Well said Mr Flecker and within a day of being in this city here are a few of the things which should not be known:

1. There are no hotels or restaurants in Samarqand. Despite being the name on the lips of anyone who’s contemplated the Silk Road, the source of much romance and poetry from the likes of the fop quoted above, this city doesn't think tourists eat or sleep. The penalties for trying are our traipse across the city on arrival, forced to ignore the huge Registan (pictured) and lug our bags from hovel to hovel. Our first feast in the city was some crisps, a dodgy bounty and something called Choco Pie, the dessicated inbred country cousin of a wagon wheel. An attempt at drinking an Uzbek draught beer in the sole food emporium resulted in your correspondent spending his first night here vomiting away all traces of this city to date...and therefore spending his second day contemplating the ceiling of the hotel room. Although this did give Rach the chance to be adopted by local old Tajik men over a pot or 2 of chai.
2. We’ve kind of had enough of blue-tiled mosques minarets and madrassas. And for paying to see them. And on discovering that inside the beautiful calm courtyards of said historical gems, 15 Uuzbek women await with their little souvenir concessions; “Just look, madam”. And of aged ignorant French tour groups with their air-conned coaches.
3. The Russians have had a real go at this place. Once away from the immediate muslim delights of mausoleum and madrassah, the soft subtle blue tiling morphs into block concrete constructions which remind you of downtown Stalingrad. The new city is a mess of soviet built universities and office blocks although the monstrous Russian monolith Hotel Samarkand is closed and our attempt at changing money there resulted in us being shouted at in a torrent of Uzbek through a plate glass window by a man with a gob full of gold teeth.

That said, tomorrow we forego the relative comfort of Uzbekistan and try and make it to the Fan Mountains of neighbouring Tajikistan. As far as we can glean, there are even fewer hotels and travel will be trickier so we may not be in contact for around a week...but stand by for tales of history's quickest dash through the country !