We left Samarkand at 10am and travelled to Bukhara on the train - a pleasant and easy trip which included a delicious lunch. From there it all went downhill. Our local guide - Raisa - talked at us in a relentless monotone for the whole afternoon, failing to draw breath even for a second. Kendall and I refused to take headsets on the visit to another bloody mosque, we were so sick of the sound of her voice.
We then checked into our hotel - built in 1961 under Soviet power, no doubt* - and it is truly dreadful. Our room is tiny and smells as though it hasn't been opened since 1961. Our double bed is two single beds pushed together. Which would be okay, but they are different heights.
Tonight we had dinner at a Persian restaurant inside a Maddressah. The floor show went on for an hour before we were allowed to eat. To me, the music was noise but some enjoyed it, I guess. When can we get back on the train?
* It seemed our guide had some obsession with the fact that Uzbekistan used to be part of the Soviet Union. Every single building and every event seemed to be built in 1961, or happened in 1961, under the time of Soviet Power. She said it so much we started to laugh about it.