Samarkand is one of those cities that leaves you fumbling for comparisons. It sits in the Zeravshan valley in eastern Uzbekistan, with the snow-capped Turkestan range on the horizon, and for the last two thousand years or so it has been a crossroads of peoples. The part visited today is largely Timur's, from the late fourteenth century, when the conqueror brought in craftsmen from Persia, India, Syria and the Caucasus to make his capital the most splendid place in the world. Under his grandson Ulugh Beg the city also became a centre of science.
What stays in the mind is colour. The Registan, a square framed by three madrasas, glows with blue and turquoise tiles and gold lettering. The Gur-e-Amir mausoleum, where Timur lies beneath a slab of dark green jade, has a ribbed blue dome that looks too big for its drum. The Bibi-Khanym mosque was meant to be the largest in the Islamic world, and part of it collapsed almost as soon as it was finished. Shah-i-Zinda, a street of tombs in glazed tile, seems to shift from one blue to another as you climb the stairs. Spend a morning there before the groups arrive.
Riding in Samarkand is city riding, with wide boulevards, roundabouts, a good many taxis and a few traffic police who like to stop foreigners, so keep your papers handy and ride calmly. Parking beside the sights is usually easy, though the Registan area has restrictions. In the countryside around the city the roads head into the foothills toward Urgut and Penjikent, and from there the real bends begin. Spring and autumn are the best seasons, because summer is intensely hot and winter can bring cold fog.
The services in town are excellent, with markets, bakeries and guesthouses of every kind, and a lively old bazaar by the Bibi-Khanym where you can buy dried apricots, nuts and warm round bread, the Samarkand style with its bright stamped patterns. Carry small notes of som, since cards are not universal, and treat evening as the best hour, when the lights come on the tile and the heat has gone.