What a load of Toshkent

Pipping Kabul to the post by a few thousand peeps as Central Asia's largest city, Tashkent, or Toshkent in the Uzbek language, is the capital of Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan's little brother: smaller, more corrupt, and with oodles of treasure.

Tashkent is charming in a subtle way. That's the kind of thing a guide book would say. It's got a subtle pace; an underground heartbeat with the rhythm of a frog; not just a place to pass through; the more curious traveller will be rewarded by some hidden gems. The quietly confident nonchalance of a modern laid back central Asian capital.

Classic hotel; standard Daewoo.

What a load of crap! It's a typical Soviet city. Big boulevards; loadsa concrete; plenty o' trees; and the odd loveable monstrocity such as the hotel Uzbekistan above; and everyone drives a Daewoo.

Uzbekistan's answer to the £50 note

Bekzod and a m-m-m-m-m-...mosque?

The currency is bizarre, not just because it's cheaper to buy at a bazaar than a bank, but because the most efficient way to carry fifty quid is to stash your combat trousers full of toilet paper; the largest note is worth 30 cents.

Anyway I was hosted in Tashkent by the wonderful Bekzod, host extraordinaire, and we enjoyed cruising around Tashkent taking in the sights, not least the big mosque (or is it? More on that later ...) and the grand Soviet chorsu bazaar (below).

A stunning setting for a bazaar, which I hoped would fulfill my high expectations; in Astana everything good seems to come from Uzbekistan; fruit from Tashkent is always marked up a bit more. Ooooh Tashkent, the cradle of civilization; Tashkent the great exporter of fabulous fibrous fruity goodness; Tashkent the France of central asia. In reality Chorsu is less Bordeaux bazaar and more Calais Carrefour. Grubby, tough, tasteless, grissle disguised as dried apricots; and possibly the cause of my food poisoning later in the week.

Chorsu bazaar.

Neverthless, I had a week to visit Uzbekistan; oh the places I'd go.