This was the bazaar where my hotel's bellhop took me to get the best black market exchange rate. The trip ended up saving me about $70.

More cash than I thought I would ever see at once, however it's only worth $200. The Uzbeks don't have any bills over 1000 som, which is only worth about 50 cents. How am I supposed to carry around this many bills? This much cash should only be seen in a briefcase that is handed to a criminal in exchange for contraband.

Many buildings here, regardless of their age, have ornamental (and perhaps functional) brises-soleil. In fact, there's ornament everywhere.

This is the old 5-star hotel in town, which must be about forty or fifty years old. It reminds me of what you would have expected from a luxury desert or tropical hotel in the sixties. I'm pretty sure that I heard the old soundtrack to Hawaii Five-O when the wind whistled through the brise-soleil.

Presumably inspired by the subtlety of exquisitely elegant banquet facilities in suburban Buffalo, this monstrosity is the Dom Forum, where the government hosts events for visiting dignitaries.

This is the sort of traditional tile work that is representative of ancient Uzbek architecture, but I have a feeling that this was done recently.

Another day, another bazaar. This one had fresh-squeezed blackberry juice.

I think that she's cutting mangoes, but it was hard to tell.

These dried yogurt balls are extremely popular in Central Asia.

This is the largest bazaar complex that I've seen so far. This is the back side of one of the radiating rows of covered market spaces.

A lazy Wednesday at the bazaar.

This guy really wanted me to buy some of his spices. He would fill up a cup with a spice, and dump it into my hand. I figured out too late that he just wanted me to smell it, and I found myself eating dried tea leaves, much to everyone's delight nearby. He convinced me to buy some cardamom tea, and some kind of pepper.

This woman sold me my non (Uzbek pronunciation) for the day. For those of you who did not know, gold teeth are very popular here, and are considered a status symbol.

This is the woman who sold me my bananas.

These pictures are probably getting repetitive, but this was by far the best bread that I've had so far on this trip.

I hope to get some more time to explore the Old Town when I come back on the 7th.

These guys made me my dinner, and insisted that I take their photograph.

I've really got to figure out the word for this dish because it's pretty much the same thing that I had right before getting ill in Kyrgyzstan, and I don't particularly like it. I asked the waitress for a recommendation, and this is what she brought me.

Even the old Soviet apartment blocks all have some sort of ornamental motif.

If you are ever in Bishkek, I know a guy who has the best used pitchforks.

These apricots looked pretty good, but I was a little more interested in the apples, which are native to Central Asia, and were brought to the world by the Silk Road. They didn't look so good, though, presumably because it's way too early for them.

What can't be found at the bazaar?

Just in case you happen upon a body of water on the way home, they sell pool toys pre-inflated here.

There is no shortage of carrots in Kyrgyzstan.

The bazaar is like one enormous bulk foods section.

I could smell these strawberries from about twenty feet away. I immediately began salivating, and I had to put in a lot of effort to stop myself from getting them. Berries are too hard to clean here because I have to go through an elaborate ritual to soak them and rinse them in sterilized water a couple of times. These looked like eating berries, and they probably would have turned to mush by the time I made it back to my hotel in the blazing sun.

There's always a bargain to be had, and deals are made with a handshake.

If a fruit can be found in this region, then they've found a way to dry it.

This was the fried food section of the bazaar.

For those who like it spicy, this is evidently the section of the bazaar to visit.

After that whole trip to the bazaar, this is the lunch with which I walked out of there. Bananas are the easiest fruit for me to eat here because they require no cleaning. These pockets are sort of a mixed bag, but everyone seems to eat them here. I never actually know what I'm going to get inside. This one had meat and onions.

These hills, snapped through the windshield of my cab, are in Kazakhstan. While I didn't go there, I saw about an hour's worth of what the country had to offer.

The meal that did me in? I blame my thieving cab driver.

The ceiling of my yurt in Kochkor. What really struck me this weekend is how these things can be really beautiful inside, especially at night, when the soft lamplight is flickering on the radiating wooden rods.

My first yurt: a hut set up in someone's back yard in Kochkor. Surprisingly, I slept very well here.

The outhouse was conveniently located just next to the yurt. Unfortunately, my brief episode of violent stomach illness coincided with my stay here, and I spent a lot of time in this facility.

Kochkor is a quaint little community that is a holdover from the Russian colonial days.

The mountains that I would tackle the next day were visible to the south.

A shameless cute animal photo. This little kitten followed me for about half a mile when I was walking around town. I didn't know what to do because it had not clear home. Eventually, we walked by a group of kids, who soon distracted the kitten with petting, and I hope that they found a home for it.

The local neighborhood watch.

My host father for the evening was busy making a shyrdak when I returned. Shyrdaks are felt rugs that serve as the floors in yurts, and they are still hand made in this region. He has laid out the design in dry died wool, and wrapped it tightly in a reed mat before soaking it in boiling water. He was stomping on the mat to set the pattern, and remove any excess water.

This is a finished shyrdak that was in my yurt.

This is the meal that my host mother in Kochkor made for me. Unfortunately, despite the fact that it was mild, i did not have the stomach for it.

Miraculously, I felt much better in the morning, perhaps due to a special awful-tasting tea that my host brought to me for my stomach. It was made from flowers that were gathered on the mountains, and as far as I can tell, it didn't hurt.

One of my guides, Miribaq, was a real comedian. I didn't understand anything he was saying, but I couldn't help laughing along with everyone else.

We came to a bit of an impasse. The previous night's rains had completely washed away the path over this stream. We had to climb up the hill to find a suitable place to ford it.

While the guides tried to figure out how to deal with our little obstruction, I had a chance to shoot this photo back down the mountain.

Eventually, this man came from a hut on the other side of the river, and led his horse across. He volunteered to take my bag to the other side, and I followed him on my horse through the raging river. This was the most frightened I've been so far on this trip.

The shepherd who carried my bag invited us in for kymyz, fermented mare's milk, and tea. There was fresh hand-churned butter on the table for the nan.

The shepherd was excited for me to take this photo of his kids.

This is the hut in which we enjoyed the tea, and everyone but me greatly enjoyed the kymyz (do you like tangy milk that tastes a little like shoe leather?), and where this family will spend the summer.

These two shepherds were heading down the mountain, and begged me to take this photo of them.

A hardworking sheep dog takes a quick nap.

This was the host mother in the yurt on the jailoo (summer pasture) where I spent last night. Here she is milking a horse, which evidently takes a tremendous amount of skill. I didn't even know that people milked horses, let alone drank the stuff.

This is part of the family's herd of horses. They rome all over the surrounding hills.

Lunch: a noodle dish with carrots, mutton, and some kind of dairy product. It was flavored with dill. The family cannot afford to make frequent trips down the mountain, so almost all of their supplies were either brought up when they arrived in mid June, or were gathered up here.

After lunch, Chiqa, my other guide, and I took a hike up a neighboring peak.

The lake that was our destination for today, is on the other side of these mountains.

A view back towards Kochkor. We had come a long way in a day.

The dogs here were very friendly, and were very hard workers. This guy constantly ran up and down the hills protecting his flock.

During a rain shower, I went into the yurt, and got to see the mother and her two daughters preparing dinner. They're making some dumplings here.

Chiqa loves dogs.

The horses seem to enjoy life up here, when the stallions are not fighting.

What gives? I was promised an idyllic setting for my yurt stay.

This is the source of all the water that the family uses. The host mother and I went down here to fill up some buckets.

My abode for the evening is on the left. The dog slept outside.

These were the dumplings that I saw being made. Unfortunately, they were a little salty for my taste.

The horses ate dinner, too, only their meal lasted all day. Unfortunately, horses here only speak Kyrgyz.

They milk cows here, too.

They start 'em out early here. This little boy was no more than five years old, and he had just come back from rounding up the sheep when I took this photo.

The weather changes quickly in the mountains.

It got cold pretty quickly once the sun set.

When i woke up, the sheep were still asleep. Only a dozen or so were baying.

This is Lake Kul-u-Kuk, the destination for my two-day horse trek. The final two hours up here were hazardously challenging. By the way, the dog followed us all the way up from the yurt camp.

I can't imagine a much more picturesque site.

How do you say "giddy-up" in Kyrgyz?

This is my authentic Soviet era hotel!

Staying in an old Soviet era hotel yields all sorts of interesting surprises. For instance, take a look at these elevator call buttons. Up means down, down means up, and while you're at it, just push both buttons.

This old casino is across the street from my hotel - a relic of a bygone era.

This is yet another installment in my series: Dental Offices of the World!

This old Soviet apartment block has an intricate mosaic design on its flank - somewhat of an anachronism.

Individuality and consistency.

I haven't seen this preponderance of concrete apartment blocks since being in Poland at the age of five, and I hardly remember that.

After walking around for way too long, I finally decided on this place for lunch. It specialized in southern Kyrgyz specialties from Jalal Abad, and diners sit on what look like beds while they eat.

My waiter and I had a lot of trouble communicating. I asked him, in the worst Kyrgyz he had ever heard, what he recommended on the menu. He pointed to several different words, and not understanding what any of them meant, I just picked the first one to which he pointed. Then, we had a long pantomime discussion about what I would have to drink (I won't even mention how he finally led me to understand the word for milk). I just selectively nodded and shook my head until he seemed satisfied. Ten minutes later, in addition to the nan that I had ordered, he returned with a pot of tea, a fresh yogurt drink, a one-liter bottle of coke, and a pitcher of fermented milk. Needless to say, my bladder was a little full for the rest of the afternoon.

This was the meal that I guess I ordered. It was delicious. I think it was sort of a stir-fried beef and vegetable dish that was very nicely spiced. I enjoyed it with my nan, and assorted beverages.

Bishkek has a whole slew of monuments to a number of wars.

I found this disturbingly rusty amusement park behind the Kyrgyz White House.

Every ride made the most painful noises of metal grinding on metal, including the rickety ferris wheel in the background. I decided against going up there for the view.

This is the old circus, that was supposedly a huge attraction during the Soviet era.

What a quaint university building!

Bishkek is full of these verdant parks and shady lanes.

The Kyrgyz decided that they just couldn't give up the old Soviet imagery.

All of the officials in this country wear comically large hats. You can barely see a couple of them here.

The summer sun traces long shadows in the countless parks in the evening.

Wouldn't you like to have your picture taken with this crew?

While many former Soviet states ritualistically tore down all of their old Bolshevik statues, the Kyrgyz couldn't bear to part with them. Why get rid of this perfectly good statue?

A remnant from an optimistically modern age.

This monument, and abstracted yurt commemorating victory in World War II, with an eternal flame, becomes both a great place to take wedding pictures, and a skate park.

The Old Town is full of these market streets.

These meat pies looked pretty good, though I didn't try them.

Hhhmm. Everyone's an electrician.

Late for dinner.

The infamous goat's head stew. I took the plunge, and I would not recommend that you do the same. For 6 RMB, the proprietor of this stand gave me a quarter of a goat's head, with all it's associated anatomy, and a cup of the soup in which it was cooked. Out of respect for my vegetarian readers, I'll leave out the details, but let me say that the taste was fine, but as the cliche goes, it was a textural thing. The piece de resistance, the great delicacy that I won't name, was particularly troubling, and I'm a little shocked that I was able to keep everything down without making a scene. I will see more of this dish over the next couple of weeks, but not by choice. After I ate it, I quickly found a kebab stand, and thinking that a nice spicy skewer was the only thing around that would kill the taste in my mouth, I quickly bought one. It turned out to be all organ meat, a few different kinds, and was the last thing that I needed or wanted. Troubled, I found the closest watermelon stand, and quickly downed two slices.

For those of you who were wondering, this is how the nan is made. That hole just below the man's hand is the oven.

Our driver takes a break for a smoke during a photo stop. We would take full advantage of the 4-wheel drive that his jeep provided. The pavement simply ended in parts, and gave way to miles of unpaved bumpy roads.

In terms of awe-inspiring landscape, this highway beats any other that I've travelled.

After we ascended through a gorge, we came to this lake, which was surrounded by dunes. Down below, you can see a bunch of sheep. I have absolutely no idea on what they were grazing

We arrived at Lake Karakul, and made our way through a small yurt village. You'll notice that the yurt on the left has a satellite dish.

The lake has the most pristine turquoise water that I have ever seen.

Shepherds graze their livestock on the green fields around the lake.

There were tiny fish in this stream, which snakes down from the lake towards the valley through which we had travelled.

Finally, I captured a photo of a camel. This guy was part of a herd, which seemed pretty wild, and they were all shedding their winter coats. We found clumps of their hair all over the foothills surrounding the lake.

The mighty Pamir mountains are located to the east of the lake. They are formed at the junction of the Himalayas, Tian Shan, Karakoram, Kunlun, and Hindu Kush ranges.

I think this camel tried to eat me.

Alex, a junior at Harvard, joined me for the trip up here. Alex is studying genetics and linguistics, and is out here brushing up on his Uighur. We were able to split the cost of the journey, which was a big help.

It was a pretty steep ascent to the summit of this foothill.

I lugged this watermelon all the way up the ascent, and it made a good snack at the summit.

Uighur bagels make the best mountain food.

This area was dubbed "The Roof of the World" by British Explorers.

An incredibly hospitable Kyrgyz shepherd invited us into his hut (a seasonal concrete yurt) for tea, but he insisted that we eat and sleep there, too. It was getting cold and windy out, the tea was warm, and the thought of spending the night there was looking pretty good, but we forced ourselves to make it back to our waiting Jeep for the long trip down the mountains after just one cup of tea.

The shepherd who invited us to tea, and his hard-working family in their hut

This was a quick shot out the windshield on our descent. It turned out that the gorge through which we had passed on the ascent was bright red without the fog.

This one gets me. China has been following Japan's lead, and putting in all of these special sidewalk pavers for the vision-impared. They seem pretty useless, however, if they lead the blind off a cliff.

Kashgar's night market is a little more legit than Lanzhou's.

No thank you. I think I'll skip the male reproductive organs for today.

I have seen more melons over the last few days than I knew existed in the world.

Would anyone like some meat?

This guy was making goat's head stew, a favorite in Central Asia, so I know I'll be seeing a lot of it over the next couple of weeks.

Watermelon everywhere. As many of you know, I have a really hard time passing up watermelon, but I haven't really enjoyed it here. It would be more refreshing if it weren't kept so darn warm and mushy.

This is in the heart of Kashgar. I'll reserve comments on this one until I've left the country.

The Old Town has little mosques tucked into corners.

This is the entry to the above mosque.

The Old Town has specialty craft areas, where it seems like every shop in a row is devoted to a particular product or technique. This is the lathe section of town.

This is how the food gets its kick.

Another mosque tucked into a corner.

These little alleyways can be found all over the Old Town.

Back by popular demand: Smiling Kids!

By the way, these kids (and the ones above) flagged me down, and begged me to take their picture. They run after me, shouting "Hello! Hello!"

In the summer, the doors to the homes are left open, and a simple drape is used to provide privacy.

You can find absolutely anything at the Kashgar Bazaar.

Yes, they do sell silk here.

I call this section of the market Hideous Carpet Row.

Why wouldn't you have your dental office open to the street?

A sign told me not to go up this way, but I pretended I didn't see it.

There was a similar sign here.

I caved. I know that gelato will win this battle hands down, but I couldn't resist. It was mediocre, but it did the job.

The first part of our journey was a gradual ascent into the foothills of the Tian Shan Mountains. It rained for most of the evening, which, I understand, was an exceedingly rare event.

This was the view out the train window in the morning.

We eventually moved deeper into the desert. I wish I knew the name of that peak over to the left. I know if must have been huge because it took about two hours for it do disappear from view.

This was my prison for almost 32 hours. For those who were wondering, yes, I was still sick, and yes, it was miserable. My head was pounding, and I was in and out of delirious consciousness for most of the ride. Fortunately, the other people in my area were able to amuse themselves by watching me sleep, or pointing at me, telling hilarious jokes, and laughing.

On the far distant side of this mountain range is Kyrgyzstan, my next destination.

The unforgiving Taklamakan Desert was made slightly more forgiving after two surprising days of rain.

At one of our many stops, a bunch of conductors got out and scratched their heads for a while.

This photo was taken around hour 28. There were 3.5 hours to go, and that felt like way too much time. Many people go off into the woods, or climb a mountain to find solitude. Let me tell you, if your really ever want to be truly alone, try taking a 1.5-day train ride in a cramped hard-sleeper car with woefully inadequate language skills. Of course, the fact that I read both "Notes from the Underground" and "Jude the Obscure" when not passed out from delirium probably contributed to this state.

Kashgar is one of those cities that I was really looking forward to seeing. I knew that the old section of town was gradually being destroyed by the Chinese, and there is not all that much of it left. I'm glad that I got a chance to see it, but I wish I had been here five years ago. In another five years, it might not be here at all anymore, or will just be a tourist attraction devoid of any context or function.

The Id Kah Mosque is one of the largest in China, and can hold 20,000 people at capacity.

The interior of the mosque is actually mostly garden. It is lined by these classrooms and studies on the perimeter.

The open prayer hall is approached through the garden.

A glimpse through the main gate

The domed area behind the main gate serves as a transition piece between the street outside, and the interior garden.

Believe it or not, I found more than a few dental offices in town.

I can't help but be drawn through these old alleyways.

Somewhat shockingly, bagels are a local specialty here. They're pretty good, actually - very chewy, and crispy on the outside. I'm not familiar with the actual origins of bagels, but I was pretty surprised to find them here. Are they a Silk Road import or export?

My lunch - hand pulled noodles with meet and vegetables. These might be becoming redundant, although this one was not as good as the others. The mutton was really tough.

The Old Town will soon look like every other Chinese city. I'm a bit torn about this because I have nothing against progress, but my problem is that it comes at the expense of culture (a culture completely distinct from that of the region's colonizers). There are signs all over town that say how well the Chinese and the Uighurs get along, and how much the Chinese respect the local culture. Tearing down the old city, and preserving small elements like the mosque, does nothing but homogenize the country while preserving neutered monuments. I guess the alternative might be something like Venice, though, a tourist attraction that is trapped in its own history.

I held myself back from exploring behind this door.