Adventures on the road less travelled…

A big spoon — Plovmaking in Tashkent, Uzbekistan

“I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I —

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference”

Final stanza, The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost

Three years ago I arrived at Tashkent airport, Uzbekistan at 5:30 am without much of a plan apart from an afternoon flight to the history city of Bukhara. Should I get a breakfast at the airport and just wait for my flight? I chose not to, and was mobbed at the taxi mart but decided to push forward to discover an unassuming old man with his banger right at the back.

Rahmat and his reliable vehicle. So far away from the airport’s taxi racks.

Although I spoke no Uzbek or Russian, and he spoke no English and was not literate, I somehow used Google Translate’s newish audio function to ask Rahmat to show me as much of Tashkent as possible within a few hours.

He took me to some kind of early morning Plov fest involving waves of veteran Uzbek men patiently entering a building, bowing to a few eminent folk, eating some Plov and leaving within 20 minutes. No one paid, nor said, anything.

A charitable breakfast from the city’s elders.

Astutely observing that I enjoyed my bowl of Plov, Rahmat took me to a Plov centre and showed me the size of the pot and the giant spoon required to make enough of the hearty lamb and rice dish for hungry punters.

A sombre, yet tasty 6am meal. Never had Coca-Cola in the morning though.

We saw the effects of the 1966 Tashkent earthquake which flattened the city, on the beautiful old buildings in the old city.

Old buildings still standing after the devastating 1966 earthquake

And areas without any tourists whatsoever, such as the stunning white Minor Masjidi.

A quiet garden in front of the Minor Masjidi.

This unforgettable morning still feels like a dream. I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

Thank you Rahmat. Sog’liq uchun!