Yurt camp

After three nights in Bukhara, we're all feeling slightly monumented out. It's quite similar to Thailand where you become templed out. Don't get  me wrong, the  monuments are fantastic but there is a common theme of blue tiles and domes.

A quick mention  for Cafe Wishbone, set up last year by a German tourist who visited Bukhara last year and couldn't find a decent latte . So she went back home, so the story goes, sold up, and returned the following summer with a huge chrome coffee machine. I can honestly say she has
cornered the market and  the coffee was delicious!
So we're on the road to Samarkand. Thankfully not such a marathon as our last trip through the desert

The yurt camp turns out to be way better than we feared. We're 4 to a yurt and the only group staying. Mind you it was a close call there are 90 French tourists staying tomorrow!

There's a restaurant block and a toilet block which are relatively permanent, while the yurts are dismantled for winter. After dinner, the staff build a campfire and we gather round while one of the locals digs out his banjo and obliges with a few folk songs. Thankfully he stops soon. Most people retire to bed about 10:30 and it's surprisingly comfortable and warm. Next morning, after breakfast, it's time for the threatened camel ride. Despite vowing never to sit on a camel  ever again, I give in to peer pressure and decide to give Emma a bit of moral support. I can honestly say that 20 minutes is more than enough and whoever suggested a 3 hour trek to the lake must be bonkers. Can I just go on record now to say I am never going on a camel again?

So we drive to the lake and just six of us decide a swim is in order. As usual, it's a bit chilly at first but fine once you take the plunge. After a half hour of this we head back up the beach to dry off. The grumpy staff from the camp have managed to prepare a picnic lunch despite their misery, and it's not bad. God help them tomorrow -- lunch for 90 Frenchies!