In retrospect, we probably should have split this day into two. Samarkand has an awful lot of things to see, and we just kept stumbling onto more and more. Right outside of our hostel is the Gur-i-Amir, or Temur’s mausoleum. We saw it lit up at night, but not during the day, and not inside.
Temur is entombed with a couple of his relatives, most notably Ulugbek, his grandson. Ulugbek was a noted astronomer, mathematician, and patron of the arts. Many of the sights in Samarkand were either designed by Ulugbek or finished by Ulugbek.
In 1941, when Uzbekistan was part of the Soviet Union, a Soviet archaeologist decided to exhume Temur’s body for study. Urban legend has it that a writing etched on the wall of Temur’s tomb read, “He who disturbs me will be attacked by someone even worse than I was.” Or something to that effect. The next day, so continues the urban legend, Hitler attacked the Soviet Union.
Continuing our tour of Samarkand, we strolled behind the Registan Ensemble and found a couple of building built by/for Bibi Khanym, Temur’s wife. The smaller and less impressive one is her own mausoleum, where she’s entombed with some of her relatives. It was pretty underwhelming, considering all the other sights of equal entrance price right next to it.
The other sights I’m referring to is the Bibi Khanym Mosque. It’s massive. Supposedly she had it built for Temur while he was away on one of his rape and pillage campaigns.
For lunch, we headed to the nearby bazaar and self-catered. We grabbed bread, honey, and some kind of cheese spread.
Unbeknownst to us at the time, the best was actually yet to come. A few kilometers past the mosque and in the middle of a cemetary is Samarkand’s Avenue of the Mausoleums. It’s exactly what it sounds like, a road with spectacular mausoelums on both sides (above).
At the end of the road is the mausoleum of the individual responsible for bringing Islam to this part of the world. We unknowingly ended up in the middle of a prayer, but the other members were hospitable and welcomed us to join. Cindy, a good woman of the book, fit right in. I, on the other hand, was a little more uncomfortable. But some singing, hand gestures, and a donation later, all was good.
On our way back, we snapped a photo of the Bibi Khanym Mosque from afar, had coffee in its shadow, and walked past the Registan just as it was being lit for the evening. A very nice day in a very nice place.
Beautiful!