Birth Of An Empire

On A Larger Trip Across Uzbekistan, Aniruddha Sen Gupta Discovers That The Fergana Valley Warrants Its Own Mini-holiday As A Subtle Microcosm Of Central Asia

- Aniruddha Sen Gupta

The train from Tashkent winds southeast through the rugged landscape of the Kamchiq Pass, and through the 19 kilometres of Kamchiq Tunnel. Called Ozbekiston (like Bengalis, the Uzbeks have a propensity towards rounding their vowels), its carriages are decked out prettily in the blue, white, and green of the national flag. Most of the people inside are Uzbeks themselves.

The Fergana Valley is not on most tourists’ itineraries. Shukhrat Ghaziev, our Tashkent-based tour coordinator, a bustling, efficient, and humorous dynamo of a man, had said as much. “Very few Indians are interested in our culture,” he had told us. “They come here only for, you know...boom-boom.” We had knowingly nodded, and rolled our eyes.

We disembark at Kokand, and are met by Aziz Odilov, our earnest cicerone. Our welcome wagon is startling—a full-scale tour bus for just the four of us the entire afternoon. Uzbekistan has massively upgraded its tourism industry in the last few years to boost the country’s economy and image. With little of the trappings of capitalist monoculture that make so many cities around the world feel the same, Uzbekistan has spectacular architecture and a unique and unexplored culture, rich in arts and crafts. Add in the varied landscapes— from awe-inspiring deserts to snowy mountains—and warm, open people who are hospitable to the core, and you have a near-perfect tourist destination.