As you move south through Kazakhstan in to Uzbekistan, things change dramatically. The terrain, the climate, the language, the chaos. The people also seem to be friendlier (not that those in Astana and Almaty were not — they may be a little more used to foreigners and don’t appreciate the novelty). I arrived in Shymkent late and went straight to City Hostel. It was new and beautiful. At night, Shymkent looked liked a modern city, similar to Almaty.
Aside from the friendly people constantly welcoming me to their country, I found Shymkent and (later) Uzbekistan to be hard. I caught a mild stomach bug while in Shymkent and felt on the verge of throwing up most of the way to Tashkent. Then, my taxi dropped me off down the street from where I needed to be, so I had to lug a heavy pack up the street and up six flights of stairs in 90 degree heat. I spent the first afternoon napping and ate very little for the next few days, which was heartbreaking at Chorsu Bazaar.
In Shymkent, I checked in and asked for advice on how to get to Tashkent. The woman at the desk gave me good instructions on how to get to the bus station to catch the bus that goes into Tashkent.
By day, Shymkent is nothing like Almaty. It is dusty, loud and chaotic. I tried to follow the instructions to get to the right bus station to buy a ticket to Tashkent. I got off either too soon or too late and decided to catch a Yandex cab. Finding the right bus station proved to be a problem. I chose the wrong one. The one I went to didn’t have a bus, but had marshrutkas (minibus operating when full). Rather than try to get to the other bus station, I took a marshrutka. The marshrutkas do not cross the border. You have to cross on foot and then catch a second ride on the Uzbek side into Tashkent. In all, it cost $2 to get to the border and $3 to get from the border into Tashkent and I got there sooner.
Surprisingly, at the border the Kazakh guards were mildly dickish, making me count my money and having the dog sniff my things. The Uzbek guards were nice and each one (you will talk to several) welcomed me to their country.
Once across the border, I was set upon by money changers and taxi drivers. I changed money at the rate of 9000 som/$, google had the rate at 8000, so I felt like I stole from him. Later, I found a place in Samarkand that had 9400, so I guess you can’t even trust google here.
I was then set upon by cab drivers offering to take me into town for between 30000 and 80000 som. I went with the guy at 30000. We walked to his cab and he opened his trunk so I could put my bag in. The trunk was full of stuff, including an old tube-type TV. I said I’d just put it in the backseat. He said no and insisted in putting it in his trunk and tying it shut. Then he insisted that I sit in the front. Where upon three more guys hop in the back (presumably one of them was the owner of the TV) and we headed into Tashkent. We talked in what little common language we had. He asked about Trump and I signaled thumbs down. He seemed surprised, but I guess negative opinions about the government aren’t expressed here. It’s a freedom we have for now.