On our way out of Bukhara, we ran into the Swedish Ambulance team who recommended a guesthouse in Samarkand, where we were headed.
Our drive to Samarkand was uneventful, but arriving at the guesthouse involved traveling through a complex labyrinth of small streets and alleys with open ditches on the side and in the middle of the lanes, all of which were one-lane, with two way traffic. In an effort to actually find the guesthouse, we hired a taxi, which ended up causing the same amount of trouble as we would have had otherwise! We turned one corner and almost sacrificed our rear tire to a ditch that came out of nowhere, but luckily we managed to make it to our destination.
Sebastien had eaten some soft-serve ice cream at the bazaar that day, which was delicious at the time but came back to haunt him. That coupled with a slight case of sunstroke (the driver’s side seems to always be in the sun!) left him drained and bed-ridden in Samarkand. I took a few hours to look around the Registan, a mosaic-tile filled complex of buildings and the tomb of Timur Lane.
We took it easy and left early the next day trying to get to Kyrgyzstan.