I woke up feeling much better and made my way to meet with Donya who works for a new project under the Human brand name that aims to promote human values through handicrafts and clothing production for Uzbek designers. Their latest project is to open a centre that shows the proecess of silk dying and weaving and then have an attached shop to attract brief stopover tourists in Tashkenå who either want souvenirs or who want to learn about the process. However she then cited a problem that I have heard time and time again - funds. Unesco are helping but the government won't.

I made my way back to the guesthouse for lunch, but was not feeling well again and this was immensley frustrating. I decided to try and sleep it off. By 5.30pm I was feeling much better and having been in bed for what seemed like an age decided to at least go for a walk to the internet cafe. On my way I bumped into a young Uzbek guy who reminded me that it was the big match of Pakhtakor FC (a.k.a cotton pickers) vs Khorezm. I simply couldn't resist, having been somewhat starved of football action. So I made my way towards the satdium with a modest number of supporters.

Suddenly, just by the stadium, the numbers of police swelled almost to the point that there were more of them than supporters. Every other person seemed to be a policeman. I searched for the ticket booth but without success. Eventually I mustered up the courage to ask a policeman hoping he wouldn't be looking for a bribe. To my amazement he produced a ticket and told me that I could have it for free, somewhat restoring my faith in the local police. I took it and, thanking him profusely, made my way to the rickety old stadium.

Whilst the stadium had clearly seen better days, it was a wonderful feeling to join the several thousand other supporters for this early evening kick off. People of all types had turned up. Young and old, groups of guys and families, groups of girls and of course half of Tashkent's police force. They mostly chatted throughout the match and whistled through what seemed to be the National Anthem, whilst a team of efficient young girls lugged sacks of nuts around to keep the punters occupied.

The match started well with Pakhtakor scoring inside of 5 minutes with a wonderful move. Sadly however the match didn't live up to expectation and whilst they were on top throughout the match, there were no more goals. For the most part the event passed smoothly and most people seemd to think I was Russian. That was until one guy tried to speak Russian with me and I struggled. Suddenly all heads turned towards me and people started to smile, wave or chatter. I had become the "tourist" attraction and I did my best to smile and wave back whilst still watching the match.

On my way back to the guesthouse, a bunch of young guys stopped to practice their English. We had a few (non-alcohoc) drinks in a nearby, outside cafe. It was great to feel well enough to chat away - which has become my favourite pastime on this trip so far! I don't need to see beautiful sights when the people are so friendly, welcoming and interesting to talk to!

Apologies for the terrible quality but the internet here is painfully slow. At least this is a nice picture of me having lunch with the two brothers grazing their sheep on the archaeological sight in Samarkand!