My higher cranial functions suspended the constitution and declared a state of emergency, whilst rioting and looting took place in regions I’d rather not mention.
At a hastily convened meeting of the UN Security Council, America favoured aerial imodium bombardment, but this was vetoed by Russia who showed some misguided sympathy towards my arse rebels.
The road out of Bukhara was the usual mix of potholes and rough track – but within an hour became a brand new, concrete highway that crossed most of the desert and lasted to within an hour of Khiva. This was still under construction in places (Jul 2013) but I would hope that within a year or so it would be completed?
As two time visitors to Iceland we are well used to bathroom sulphorous “parfums” – quite excusable in a volcanic area – but this was something else!
We could not change rooms and the owner did try to change the shower head (?!), but I think it was nothing that a good hosing down with bleach would not cure?
The reason we did not move on was really down the family who ran the place – they were lovely people, very helpful, and went out of their way to make our stay an otherwise pleasant one (and helped us find black market Dizel – see other blog). We’d still recommend the place – if you can avoid room 3 – or maybe take some industrial strength Domestos with you?
Tired by the early start we voted to leave the tourist bit to later and ventured out instead to an Uzbek restaurant just opposite the West gate…
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD avoid this place at all costs, unless:1) You are kinky for overweight, mono-browed, hairy-ankled, gold-toothed waitress service.
2) You enjoy being constantly hassled by same harridan to extol the virtues of their vile fare to other passing tourists.
3) You wish to aggravate your stomach complaint from minor inconvenience to DEFCON 5.
NOT wishing to aggravate a delicate ceasefire that seemed to holding down below, I opted for what I thought was a plain broth soup.
Peace talks were underway and some consessions had been made to the bottom-separatist movement (a temporary cessation of alcohol consumption and the right to a free press) and I thought I was on the mend?
I blame my tiredness – but only twigged half way through that I was listlessly consuming a bowl of gristle, heated chilli oil and whatever excretions the flies of Khiva wished to contribute.
I had, in fact, just issued a Jihad upon my own ass and the revolution violently returned….
You get the picture, and that’s probably quite enough bottom anecdotes from me. Suffice to say that what followed was the worst night of my life, and ended up with me collapsing from the pain and unpleasantness of the whole experience…
Back to the lovely folk at Lali Opa, who provided plain boiled rice, rice water and black tea, upon request for the next 24 hours, facilitating a remarkably rapid recovery and for which they charged not one som!