There’s No Hotel Like Hotel Uzbekistan
Don’t Leave Your Key at Reception, Comrade
I Didn’t Need a Visa to Enjoy the Finest of Post-Soviet Style
In May of 1995, I stayed at the Hotel Uzbekistan in Tashkent. While I was used to a broad range of lodging, my post-travel notes state in all-caps: THIS HOTEL IS NOT ACCEPTABLE.
When I wrote that I was tired and a touch melodramatic. After all, this was the largest hotel, the flagship property, in the capital of the country.
But was it acceptable? Assessed as a place to remain comfortable and focused on a business-trip, it was… not. A shared room with motley university kids in a European youth hostel was more accommodating. I’m writing this 28 years later, and while the details of my youth hostel stays are fuzzy, Hotel Uzbekistan stands out. With weird or challenging experiences, your souvenir is never forgetting them.
I was unable to get a visa before arriving in Uzbekistan. No worries, I hoped. I convinced myself they might not even even ask. But before I disembarked the late-arrival flight, the looming young infantryman who boarded the plane also was in no mood to worry. Not in a neo-hippy, “no worries, man” way, but in an, “I have a rifle, uniform, crew cut, and work for the State” way.
