Traveling around Uzbekistan

The Beldersay cable car doesn’t look like much from the ground. I first heard about it from a friend who’d spent a winter in Uzbekistan’

I used to think bootmaking was just about stitching leather together until I watched a master craftsman in Bukhara spend forty minutes on a single seam.

I used to think sister city programs were just ceremonial fluff—plaques exchanged, handshakes photographed, nothing real. Then I spent three weeks in Khiva

I used to think Sufi shrines were just quiet places where old men prayed. Then I spent three days in Katta Langar, a village wedged into the Nuratau Mountains

I used to think all lutes were basically the same. Then I heard a dutar being played in a cramped workshop in Bukhara, and honestly, it rewired something

The Karshi Khanate doesn’t show up in most history textbooks, which is sort of wild when you consider it controlled trade routes that shaped Central

I’ve photographed maybe seventy sunrises across Central Asia, and Bukhara still catches me off guard. The thing about Bukhara is that it’

I’ve driven across Uzbekistan twice now, and honestly, the roads surprised me more than the monuments. The thing about planning a road trip through

The lake shouldn’t even exist. Aydarkul sprawls across roughly 3,000 square kilometers of the Kyzylkum Desert in Uzbekistan—a man-made accident born

I used to think poetry collections were just dusty books nobody reads anymore. Then I spent an afternoon in Khiva’s Literary Museum, wedged between