Bowlings Abroad

For many, the lure of travel is the promise of adventure. It is the act of collecting stories to share at dinner parties of close-calls on mountain tops, of hilarious miscommunications at a restaurant, or moments of clarity that dawn with a sunrise on a beach.

While booking a ticket to a new city or country stirs that sense of promise, there’s something sweet about knowing you are going back to a place you loved. This fall break, after flirting with other locals, we settled on a return visit to Yerevan, Armenia. Readers may recall details from our previous trip last October.

This time we settled into a familiar routine. Wake up. Donne our hoodies (after living in the desert it feels nice to be a bit chilly) and raincoats. Walk to breakfast. Meander down some side streets. Stop for coffee. Meander some more. Head back to the hotel for a nap. Hit the streets again for dinner and street food. The best part about revisiting a city you’ve experienced previously, is that you don’t feel any pressure to hurry up and “see all the sights” because you already have.

In the spirit of “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” we booked again at the wonderful Phoenix Boutique Hotel, one block from a corner store, one block from the 24/7 Shawarma & Chicken joint, and 3 blocks from the best wine bar in the city, In Vino.

We popped by our favorite tour company One Way Tours, and selected a half-day trip “Garni, Geghard, Arch of Charents, and Symphony of Stones.” Although it poured rain most of the day, and the view of Mount Ararat was obscured by low clouds, we were not detoured and frankly, we enjoyed the respite from the (post-summer yet still not pleasant temps in Abu Dhabi.

Twenty-something Hope and Nate would've told you “if you've seen one monastery, you've seen em all.” In our 40s the historical weight of a 2nd century place of worship is beyond description. At one point, we thought someone was piping in choral tunes (and thought ,”boy, that's cheesy”), but as we turned the corner we saw the four person chorale. In. Real. Life.

At another point, our guide nonchalantly noted that much of the church was built by carving out solid basalt rock. Yes, you read that correctly.

If that wasn’t enough, the story of Garni Temple is equally epic. A nod to pre-Christian Armenia and designed in that Hellenistic style we often associate with the Parthenon, this pagan temple has seen some things. At one point, Christians decided to build a multi-story church–bigger and better than this temple. However, when a massive earthquake hit, only one of the structures really survived and the locals stole the construction stones from the church.

To close out the tour, we ended at the Symphony of Stones. Despite the pouring rain (we’re Washingtonians), we walked down a huge ravine ensconced by basalt columns. It was like walking inside a giant pipe organ.

Shortly after this, we dipped into a family restaurant, where 70 year olds were making Lavash. Arguably a cross between pita and a tortilla, this ancient bread is traditionally made in literally 900 degree below ground ovens. This woman has been making bread since she was SEVENTEEN. Her hands are like cinder blocks.

One surprise of this trip was the number of dogs we saw. That’s right. Armenian street dogs. Here’s a photomontage for all you dog lovers out there.

One evening, we woke up a little later than usual from our nap and decided to try out a restaurant we’d passed by a few times by Martiros Saryan Park . We walked gingerly down the stairs, past a cloud of smoking old men who nodded and continued reminiscing about the old days. Immediately greeted by a giant stuffed bear (see picture), the sound of piano music, and an intoxicating aroma, we knew we’d found our spot for the night. Tables were filled with plates brimming with meats, dumplings, salads, and lots and lots of lavash. Beyond the menus, there wasn’t much going on in English, but that didn’t deter us from ordering Georgian garlic chicken, beef soup, and a few other delectable dishes.

One new thing we did this year was dig into soups. You read that correctly, soups. “No one ever got fat eating soup” Nate declared one evening. So we decided to test his theory and are now working our way through recipes from The Armenian Kitchen.

On the way home we were joking about coming back next fall break. Yerevan is a special place.

Originally posted in Nate’s weekly newsletter Takes and Typos on March 17, 2024

The Republic of Uzbekistan was born in August 1991. It was one of the 15 states that emerged from the fall of the USSR. Uzbekistan is landlocked, jammed among its Central Asian neighbors: Kazakhstan to the north and west, Hermit-ish Turkmenistan and Afghanistan to the South, and Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan to the East. In recent decades the country has leveraged its natural gas and mineral wealth to modernize its infrastructure and cities.

Like the rest of its Central Asian cohort, the country is geographically and politically situated between Russia and China and resides in the spheres of each state. We noted this repeatedly in our travels. When we took the train from Tashkent to Samarkand, we rode along rails laid during the Soviet era but on a high-speed train car, manufactured in China. The metros in Tashkent are built in the ornate Soviet style that Tucker Carlson recently gushed over in Moscow. One of the two national dishes is manti, a dumpling dish that arrived in the country from China along the Silk Road.

Upon arriving in Tashkent we found the capital busy, clean, and notably quiet. I’d say 60% of the women wear hijab but more in Samarkand than Tashkent. Uzbeks are very reserved people. They don’t smile much; they don’t chatter much in public. They greet each other quietly with a handshake and a meeting of the forehead. I joked to a friend this week that "full metro cars and weekend markets in Tashkent were quieter than three Jordanian dudes having lunch."

*The Gūr-i Amīr mausoleum of the Turco, a Turkic Conqueror*

Like Azerbaijan, which we’ve previously visited, the leader of Uzbekistan during the Soviet era, Islam Karimov, became the president after independence and ruled until his death in 2016. The country began to open itself to tourists in 2018. We saw other travelers in both Tashkent and Samarkand, but most of them appear to be Russian or Kazakh.

The historical sites in Uzbekistan are incredible. We toured mosques and madrasahs that date back to the 1400s and visited ruins the result of the Mongol conquest in the 1200s.

From what we could tell, Uzbeks don't really have a cafe or bar scene. This makes sense given the cold climate and conservative culture. On a few occasions, we walked towards busy-looking streets expecting to find restaurants or cafes and came up empty-handed. But the food we had was wonderful. Uzbek food is hearty, which again makes sense given the winters. The other national dish, plov, is a rice dish with stewed meat and vegetables—a Central Asian paella or biryani. It is also notable that people in Uzbekistan are decidedly tea, rather than coffee people. This was great for me because I don't particularly like coffee. I typically only drink the occasional espresso when I'm traveling. But I love tea and drank it at every opportunity possible.

*Plov, an absolute banger of a rice dish*

In preparing for our trip, I came across several videos calling Uzbekistan the “cheapest country in the world.” I thought these were tacky and felt a touch exploitative. That said, if you are budget-sensitive, traveling to Uzbekistan is affordable. The US dollar trades at 1:12,500 Uzbeks Soms. Most of the meals we had were in the neighborhood of 150,000 soms, so under $12 for two. The best meal we had, manti, plov, and tea service, at an understated cafe in Samarkand, was eight bones.

Tashkent very much has a Soviet feel. On a couple of occasions, we found ourselves taking multi-block detours to get around government ministry compounds. There are police everywhere. In our prior travels in post-Soviet states, we have found a vibrant nightlife and restaurant scene around Freedom or Independence Square. Not so much this trip. In Tashkent, Independence Square is in the middle of a quiet park.

In closing, let's talk about traveling while Black for a moment. Racism is real and not everywhere is safe for everyone to travel. I am not saying I am the first Black person to ever go to Uzbekistan but I didn't see any other brothers and sisters, and many of the people I encountered acted like I was the first Black person they'd ever seen in real life.

In a phenomenon I have not experienced since going to Beijing, in 2014, I was repeatedly asked by people to pose for photos. I obliged the first few. Hope overheard someone practicing saying “Welcome to Uzbekistan” in English before approaching us. As we walked through the Registan, I heard a couple of people yell “Hey, New York!” and wave.

That said, The people were very chill. I felt no hostility toward me. If you are a Black traveler you shouldn't have unusual safety concerns in Uzbekistan.

On the whole, this was a great little adventure. The people of Uzbekistan are welcoming. The food is solid to great. The history is unavoidable and compelling–it’s literally in your face everywhere you go. When I was a kid in geography class, Pyongyang, Tashkent, and Harare were the most exotic sounding places on Earth to me. It’s really cool that I got to visit one of them.

Armenia: As Old As Time (Literally)

Traveling Through History In Uzbekistan