Traveling around Uzbekistan

The thing about Chimgan is that nobody tells you how disorienting it feels to leave Tashkent’s dust and heat and suddenly be standing in alpine air

I used to think Soviet architecture was all about grey concrete blocks and miserable housing complexes. Then I stumbled into the Palace of Friendship of

I used to think ceremonial music was all pomp and circumstance, you know—just trumpets blaring while important people walked slowly. Then I ended up at

I’ve walked through a lot of historic sites, but Shah i Zinda hits different. The necropolis sits on a hillside in northeastern Samarkand, basically

I used to think jewelry was just about sparkle. Then I watched a silversmith in Bukhara’s old city spend seven hours tapping—literally tapping—a

I used to think deserts were just empty. Then I stood at the edge of Sudochye Lake in Khorezm, Uzbekistan, watching thousands of flamingos turn the water

I’ve spent way too many hours watching old women’s hands move faster than my brain can process. Bukhara tatting—this ancient lace-making technique

I used to think getting around Uzbekistan would be straightforward—trains, buses, maybe a taxi or two. Turns out, the reality is messier and way more interesting.

The thing about Charvak is nobody tells you it’s basically a Soviet engineering experiment that turned into Uzbekistan’s accidental beach paradise.

The first time I stepped into a traditional hammam, I wasn’t prepared for the heat—or the intimacy. Anush Khan Bathhouse sits tucked within the labyrinthine