Room with a view, in Tashkent

I needed to stay in Tashkent for several days, waiting for news about my bicycle, which had gotten stuck in Dubai after the biggest rainstorm of the century. Great was the relief when I finally received confirmation that it would arrive soon.

At the airport, my luggage came in bits and pieces – first one bag, then two, then one again. Each time, I hovered between hope and fear, trying to suppress the thought of an aborted journey in Tashkent. Great was the relief when I finally saw the brown bicycle box, still so well packed from Tehran. Unfortunately, I didn’t have all the tools I needed for re-assemblage, so with an improvised setup, I began to walk a long way to one particular Pinarello store that was recommended as competent to restore my bike to the state of before. Great was the joy when at the end of that long day, I was able to pick up my bike and cycle back to the hotel on the other side of town.

The bicycle wasn’t allowed in the room and had to be left in the courtyard. But when I looked out of the window, I noticed that my view was directly onto it. A happy smile must have spread across my face as I realize that the journey was saved. The next day, I could continue going East, even on a detour that would provide new clues for the story that was taking shape in my mind.

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This post contains a preview of a forthcoming book about Journey to the East, highlighting the perpetuating tensions and sometimes awkward dialogues between East and West as found on my quest for a New Silk on an Old Road.