THE last time I visited Uzbekistan was an incredible 22 years ago, some 10 years after the country opened to travellers. Hotels were unspeakable, the food inedible and a bottle of vodka served as all-purpose disinfectant. My guide, a relic of Soviet nyet-dom and not one to be trifled with, regarded any smile with suspicion. Policemen had to be bribed. But… what a country! The names of Bukhara, Khiva and Samarkand, pregnant with intrigue and romance, held—and still hold—magnetic appeal. When I heard, earlier this year, that the Golden Eagle Trans-Siberian Express was blazing a 10-day trail across Uzbekistan, I could not help but jump aboard.
Day three
A nice surprise at our Champagne welcome: I run into a friend from my last trip aboard the in Persia. For the purpose of this diary, we’ll nickname her
