Traveling around Uzbekistan

I used to walk past Tashkent’s Soviet-era buildings without giving them much thought—just blocky relics of a political system that collapsed before I was born.

The Afrosiyob high-speed train—Uzbekistan’s pride—hurtles between Tashkent and Samarkand at speeds that would’ve seemed impossible just fifteen years ago.

I used to think shawls were just something your grandmother draped over her shoulders at weddings. Then I watched a woman in Bukhara’

I used to think carpet weaving was just about making pretty floor coverings. Then I spent three days in a workshop outside Bukhara, watching a master weaver

I never thought I’d spend a Tuesday afternoon watching footage of 15th-century tilework, but here we are. When Ancient Walls Become Your Most Patient

I used to think plov was just rice. That was before I spent three weeks in Tashkent, wandering through the Chorsu Bazaar at dawn, watching vendors stir

I used to think Soviet-era buildings were all gray concrete and propaganda posters. Then I wandered into the Bukhara Youth Palace on a dusty afternoon

I never expected Uzbekistan to teach me what tourism could actually look like when locals run the show. The first time I visited a community-based tourism

The mountains don’t care what you call them. I’ve spent enough time in Ugam-Chatkal to know that the biodiversity here operates on a scale

I’ve always been a little obsessed with how fabric can carry entire histories on its back. The traditional clothing of Uzbekistan isn’