Tracing the ghosts of empire in Uzbekistan

My first impression of Tashkent came as a taste – the metallic tang of smog in a city undergoing yet another transformation. The ancient capital, which has been levelled and rebuilt countless times across millennia, is currently obscured by the dust of its latest reincarnation. Twinkling towers sprout from the earth at remarkable pace, while the midday air hangs heavy with the price of this progress.

Uzbekistan is in the midst of an extraordinary pivot towards tourism, putting billions into the national effort while pitching itself as the cultural heart of Central Asia. The nation, once sealed off to foreigners by Stalin, and largely inaccessible to tourists only a decade ago, is now opening itself to the future by reaching into its turbulent past.

I checked into the Wyndham Garden for my first night, a slick base just a short cab ride from Tashkent North station, my launch pad for catching the high-speed Afrosiyob train through the heart of the Timurid empire. Before leaving the capital, I managed entry to Gravity Bar at Sapiens Hotel, a members-only rooftop sanctuary where Tashkent’s new elite convene at the end of the day. From here, you watch the new Uzbekistan take shape in real time – construction cranes pirouetting against the sunset and minarets competing with LED billboard screens.

The following morning, I visited the Centre for Islamic Civilisation at Hazrati Imam complex, a gilded show of strength for the new regime. Its centrepiece is the 8th century Uthman Quran, one of the world’s oldest, looted from Damascus 600 years later by Amir Timur, better known to English-speakers as Tamerlane. I would chase this man’s ghost for the next week. Tamerlane is omnipresent here – the national idol who displaced Karl Marx from the podiums after independence. His statues form the spine of Uzbek identity. In Tashkent, he is on horseback, roving and conquering. Yet it is in Samarkand where his ghost feels most alive, for here, at the heart of his empire, he sits enthroned.

Amir Timur's statue in Tashkent. Getty Images

I came off the Afrosiyob train with one clear priority: plov, the national dish of lamb and rice.