Travelling has become by least favourite part of Uzbekistan, which admittedly is a weird thing to say. I try not to over plan, my preference is booking transportation tickets a day beforehand when I’ve actually made a decision on where I’ll be going to next. However that style of travelling doesn’t really work well here.

Domestic flights between specific cities are only available on specific days on the week, and so due to the lack of frequency they get bought up early and fast. Trains are worse; while running everyday only one of the slow trains a day can physically run the rail line as it starts in the west at Khiva and snakes though Uzbekistan to the far east of Andijan, practically taking an entire day. This leads to crazy times the trains arrive on the outer cities, like in the case of Bukhara to Khiva arriving at 4:30am to get you bright and bushtailed at the destination for 11am.

Tossing aside planes and trains, shared taxi’s are the most popular, and far easier to find, mode of transport. The issue is the distance, I’m good for a couple of hours in a shared taxi like from Fergana to Kokand, but a 6 hour drive to Khiva was not winning any life time achievement awards.

So I committed to booking a private taxi, at the expense of $180. And oh boy, did the driver earn those dollars.

A good chunk of the highway was still under construction, which I had heard it would be a rough ride, and there were parts of the road that were more pot hole than tarmac. But when we hit the resurfaced stretches, it was fantastic. The highway from Bukhara toward Urgench is absolutely straight. No exaggeration, literally straight with no bends. When the sky overhead became overcast and the grey of the clouds met with the grey of the road, blending together on the horizon, it was as though the sky itself was pouring out a path for us to journey upon.

Heading off the highway and switching south toward Khiva, the landscape stopped alternating between tundra and desert, and started to reveal lush green farms. And so desert became farms, and farms became towns, and the ubique Chevolt that once made up a good 90% of cars, became Damas vans.

At 4pm we finally arrived at Khiva, and entered the South gate of Ichon Qala, the name of the old city, dating back over 2,500 years. It was considered one of the greatest cities along The Silk Road, and in 1967 it was proclaimed an open air museum, filled with ancient markets, mosques, and mausoleums.

Now, not everyone viewed Khiva with glowing platitudes. In the 18th and 19th centuries Khiva was famed for one particular commodity – Slaves. The wealth from the slave trade was enormous. Russian men were the most highly valued, with asking prices equivalent to four camels or two horses. How many camels are you worth??

The West gate acts as the official entrance to Ichon Qala, and from here all souvenir stalls and markets run the length of the small old city through to the East gate. While the Bukhara markets felt like they catered to the local populace and sold real wares, the trinkets being sold along this tourist street felt considerably more catered toward tourists who wanted silly items like bags embroidered with camels and “I heart Uzbekistan”.

While chilling one evening in garden cafe along the tourist street, a troupe passed by with music and puppets, delighting everyone as tourists took photos on their phones. Later traditional music blared and a group started dancing in the street. I couldn’t tell if this was really legit spontaneous, as they seemed to be really into it and dragged some oblivious tourist into the mix. But of course it’s staged, I witnessed the same event a couple days later with the exact same “tourist” being dragged into dancing with them.

My favourite part of Ichon Qala is leaving the busy and bustling tourist street, imagining Silk Road traders in their stead, and into quiet suburban areas of paved streets, mud brick homes, and kids running around freely playing. It’s hard not to be transported back to the 10th century, when Khiva was a regional economic and cultural hub, and the hard day of work was winding down.

The female presence in Khiva is undeniable. Every restaurant, stall, and hotel, is generally run by a woman. And it’s clear they’re a force of nature, everyone around them immediately on alert to follow orders. You do not mess with mamma bear in Khiva. The lady running my hotel was a bit of a battle ax too.

I was up for breakfast the first morning, and the owner sternly told me to come back a 9am, she wanted all the guests to be there. We had three tables of three groups of guests, and as we had breakfast the owner directed a photographer to take photos. So I assume my face eating eggs and ham will be gracing their Booking and Agoda page sometime in the future.

What became my favourite restaurant, and one that came top rated in the likes of Trip Advisor, was Terressa. It had a fantastic balcony and roof top, but every table outside was booked each time I visited. The first time here I was afraid I’d over ordered, the price was high for the lamb kebabs, but I hadn’t had lunch that day so I mentally justified it. The kebabs were staggeringly good, along with potatoes cooked in garlic, oil, and rosemary, and some vegetable kebabs I naturally ignored. So I paid more that usual, something I would discover is normal in Khiva, but I don’t think I’ve been this satisfied with a meal since the family run Cafe in Fergana, who incidentally also served me lamb kebabs.

I was very keen to take a tour out to the fortresses of Elliq Qala, which is actually in the autonomous Republic of Karakalpakstan. After reading some good recommendations online, I found the office of Islambek Tours and threw down my money. There’s no credit cards here. It’s all old school hard cash in Khiva, and the two ATMs in Ichon Qala never worked, and I had to go on an adventure quest to find a working ATM in the new city.

With the tour booked for the follow day, a couple of mostly cold beers that evening, I prepared for what the next day would bring…