For some reason it felt like an appropriate day to spend relaxing and wandering Khiva. I'd given up hoping to find someone to share costs for a day trip to the ruined castles nearby. Having seen enough ruins in Qazvin, I woke up for breakfast intent on just having a ⌠day off ⌠ and not worry about what to do, but rather just let things happen. Over numerous coffees and a lazy breakfast I met a very pleasant French lady, Laurence, who was spending 3 or her 9 week annual holiday in Uzbekistan (some people have all the luck don't they??!!!). So it wasn't until 11am (Allah forbid) that I actually got moving and went outside the hotel. Believe it or not I have hardly slept past 8am on this trip and usually find myself getting up bright and early and raring to go (OK, 8pm isn't early, I know, but for a student it is excessively early). Though I usually attribute this to the noise or lack of curtains in the hotels I have stayed in rather than my natural ability to wake up early. 

Having said goodbye to Joe the day before, it was in many ways great to be back on my own, free to go where I want. It'd been great to have the company and Joe was a really great traveling companion, but the return to what I had gotten used to was really pleasant.

But like I said, it was a day of doing nothing and I can't reel off a list of tourist sights that I saw because I didn't actually see any. Instead I spent most of the day wandering around Khiva, outside of the old town, and practiced my Russian with whoever I met. The locals were all extremely friendly and I had several invitations for tea or to sit in courtyards chewing on nuts. At one point a small boy who claimed he was 15, but looked a lot younger, came up to me and spoke what seemed to me to be excellent Russian. He insisted I should follow him to his school and showed me around. I wasn't sure this was such a good idea, and paused at the gate, hesitantly. The students were outside and seemed to be doing some sort of cabaret show, backed by the usual Russian pop music, in front of their teachers. It was the last day of full school and so I didn't want to disturb. But suddenly one of the teachers saw me and signaled that I should come in. I obeyed and was promptly shown a seat with the panel of teachers. I couldn't refuse and so just sat quietly, applauded every so often and nodded in agreement with the teacher next to me. 

 After half an hour, my newfound friend had had enough and signaled that he wanted to leave. I was wondering just how much longer the show would go on and decided that it would be best to leave now. Since I had arrived, the children seemed more interested in looking at me and giggling than performing and it made me feel that I really shouldn't be there. Afterall I had no business there. So I left, and almost as soon as I had done so, the boy just said it was time for him to go to lunch and disappeared, pointing me vaguely in the direction of the centre. While making my way back to town I stopped and chatted over numerous cups of tea with any of the locals who were friendly. The children seemed mostly fascinated with my digital camera, wanting endless pictures of themselves. Meanwhile I tried my best to hold a conversation in Russian with their parents of older siblings. 

 Around lunchtime I made my way back to the guesthouse, only to be stopped by Rusman, the souvenir hat seller, who wanted to chat. It was getting hot by now and I was sweating even in the shade. I suggested that it was time for beer and he dashed round the corner to get us a couple of cold ones. The next hour was spent deciphering eachother's attempts at communicating with lots of laughing and handshaking. 

 Eventually I decided that it was time to maybe see at least one or two sights and walked off round the old town. In the end I didn't see any, and ended up being more of a tourist attraction than the innumerable medressas. The Uzbek tourists all came up, giggling as usual, to ask to have a photograph. I obliged, but found it amusing that with such beautiful buidings and architecture around, they were more interested in photographing me! XX