More Expat Vagabonds

Vagabonds3

vagabondstoo — Tue, 31 Mar 2015 16:13:00 GMT

ONCE AGAIN WE HAVE EXCEEDED OUR PHOTO LIMIT and it is time to begin Chapter 3 of the Vagabonds saga. We had hoped to finish out our time in the “peaceful ‘Stans” in vagabondstoo, but it was not to be. We are on our way back to Bishkek and then on to Tajikistan. So you can continue to follow our journey at journals.worldnomads.com/vagabonds3.

See you there!

Samarkand

vagabondstoo — Fri, 27 Mar 2015 15:47:00 GMT

SAMARKAND IS ONE OF CENTRAL ASIA’S OLDEST and most impressive cities. This is as true today as it was when Alexander the Great arrived in 329 BCE when it was known as Marakanda. Samarkand was a major market on the Silk Road where caravans from China, India and Persia converged and made it attractive to would be conquerors. Between the 6^th and 12^th Centuries, Samarkand was ruled by Western Turks, Arabs, Persians, Samanids and others before being destroyed by the hordes of Chinggis Khan in 1220.

Gur Emir Mausoleum

The splendor that remains in today’s Samarkand is the work of Tamerlane, aka Timur “the Lame,” who decided to restore the city to its former glory as the economic and cultural hub of Central Asia. The mosques, mausoleums and madrassas he constructed were abandoned when the capital moved to Bukhara in the 16^thCentury but have been restored to pristine condition. It is more than ironic that the architect of such beautiful monuments was also one of history's most vicious butchers.

Shakhi Zinda Necropolis

Susanna met us at the hotel on a cold and windy morning and walked us to the Gur Emir Mausoleum where both Timur and his scientist son, Ulugbek, are buried. Then Norbek drove us all to Registan Square. the most impressive site we have seen in some time. We will never know what Alexander saw on his visit but I am sure that His Greatness would surely approve of Registan Square. If he could get a visa, that is.

The Road to Samarkand

vagabondstoo — Wed, 25 Mar 2015 23:29:00 GMT

FOUR HOURS AND THREE HUNDRED KILOMETERS OF DESERT separate Bukhara from Shakhrisabz. The birthplace of Timur, aka Tamerlane, is easier to spell than to pronounce. And if you visit in 2016 it should be wonderful. But today Shakhrisabz was under construction, urban renewal if you will.

Men at Work

Gold teeth flashing in the sunshine, Mudlova our guide for a few hours, herded us along muddy paths from one unfinished mausoleum to an under-renovation madrassa, past the heroic statue of Timur and to the towering gates of his one-time palace. She talked non-stop in rapid-fire English, referring to us as “Honored Guest” as she apologized for the construction and regaled us with how beautiful the finished product would be.

Tamerlane

We eventually had to cut her short — it was nearly 3PM and we were still two hours from Samarkand — two hours of mountain driving on a potholed road. But the scenery was spectacular, green alpine meadows, pink pistachio blossoms and snowy peaks.

Pistachio blossoms

The Sultan Boutique Hotel is quite a come-down after our stays at Asia Hotels in Khiva and Bukhara. The location is great for the sights of Samarkand but there isn’t a restaurant or mini-market within walking distance. Our room is tiny compared to what we have gotten used to and there is only one light. Under normal circumstances it would be OK but we have paid for lux and this ain’t lux.

Bukhara

vagabondstoo — Tue, 24 Mar 2015 21:40:00 GMT

THERE IS LITTLE BUT DESERT BETWEEN KHIVA and Bukhara and it took us six hours to reach town. Norbek is an excellent driver and is proud of his brand new Uzbekan-made Chevy. We can’t help but marvel that he knows all the turns since there are no signs that we can see but he has made the trip so many times it is hard-wired into him.

Kalon Mosque

He dropped us at Asia Hotel Bukhara, just outside the old tourist area. It is another fabulous hotel, much nicer than we would have chosen ourselves. The internet sucks, but we are still in Uzbekistan, after all. We met our guide, Larisa, this morning and Norbek drove us to the west side of Bukhara where we began our tour. It rained overnight and we had to shelter under awnings or inside convenient mausoleums from time to time, but the rain kept the temperature down.

Lattice work at Ismail Samani Mausoleum

Bukhara, the religious center of Uzbekistan and Central Asia, has countless mosques, mausoleum and madrassas, most dating from the 18^th Century. Each is named for a famous amir, scientist or poet — famous to the Uzbeks but unknown to us — so photos were more important than facts. Each time Larisa told us more about the architecture and the difference between some of the tile works on the buildings, things fell more into place. If we stayed long enough we might eventually figure it all out.

A shortcut through the back streets

Connie coerced Larisa into leading us to Bella Italia for some food we recognized for lunch. She took a short-cut through some old residential areas with puddled, muddy streets where people not used to seeing tourists looked at us with surprise — and not a little pity.

Navruz in Khiva

vagabondstoo — Sat, 21 Mar 2015 02:49:00 GMT

THE HISTORY OF KHIVA MAY WELL GO BACK TO NOAH’S flood when legend says it was founded by his son, Shem. What remains of the double-walled city today is more recent, mostly from the 18^th Century. Khiva is so well preserved that critics call it a lifeless “museum city.” Try telling that to the 3000 locals who live within the city walls and the thousands more who joined in today’s Navruz celebration.

West Wall Unfinished minaret

Caffeine fix Ready for work

Asia Hotel is just outside the South Gate so we sneaked a peak as the sun set on the mosques and minarets last night. Getting lost was a distinct possibility in the narrow twisting alleyways but we managed to keep the towering Kalta Minor Minaret in sight and found our way home.

Smiles and Tiles

Saida, our guide for the day, met us at nine sharp and showed us hidden Khiva. We slipped away from squares packed with Navruz celebrants to deserted mosques, mausoleums and madrasses. She showed us silk-weavers, wood-carvers and young women practicing the Uzbek art of embroidery. Saida’s English is very good but she speaks as fast as a New Yorker so much of the significance of what she said (as well as all of the unfamiliar names) flew right by me. Suffice to say that Khiva was on a branch of the Silk Road but its main product was slaves, not silk. Over the years it was besieged by rival states and the Persians before finally surrendering to the Russians where it became the other USSR — the Uzbekistan Soviet Socialist Republic.

All Smiles It's your move

Old Friends Pretty in Pink

As interesting as all this history was, I was distracted by the sounds and smells and colors of the Navruz goings-on. The celebration of the spring equinox is a big deal in Central Asia, and everyone got in the swing of things. Old woman in traditional dress pressed strange food on us while style-conscious young women strutted their stuff on teetering high-heels. Young boys squirmed in their best suits while their little sisters glowed like spring flowers in colorful costumes. After six hours of sensory overload and sore feet we cried “Uncle” and shuffled back to the hotel.

Nukus and the Vanishing Aral Sea

vagabondstoo — Thu, 19 Mar 2015 01:20:00 GMT

WHAT AT FIRST APPEARED TO BE ROTTEN WINTER SNOW is actually salt — NaCl, not SnOw. We are in Nukus, 1150 km northeast of Tashkent and as good a place as any to begin our discovery of Uzbekistan. While we were whinging about a second consecutive 4AM wake-up for an early flight, Norbek, who will be our driver and companion for the next week, had already driven ten hours from his home in Samarkand.

Salt, not snow

Lonely Planet describes Nukus as hopeless and desolate, useful only as a base for a visit to the Aral Sea region. Not true. Construction is rampant and Nukus is on the rebound. And it hosts one of the most interesting — and certainly the most remote — art museums we have seen recently.

Norbek says "Conserve Water!"

The Aral Sea was until recently the fourth largest body of fresh water in the world and Moynak, 200 km north of Nukus, was a major fishing port. The USSR in its quest for world domination decided that Uzbekistan would be a wonderful place to grow cotton and the Aral Sea would be an inexhaustible source of water. They were half right. Uzbekistan became the leading producer of cotton, all for the Russian market. But the Aral Sea began to run dry. Within a generation it dried up to less than a third of its former self. The fishing fleet of Moynak lies resting on the sand, 200 km from the lake shore.

Savitsky Art Museum

The Savitsky Art Museum houses the second largest collection of Russian avant-garde art in the world. Igor Savitsky, an artist himself, came to Nukus on an archeological mission and stayed. He was followed by other Russian painters whose names are unfamiliar to us and whose styles didn’t follow the Party line. The collection reflects the influence of such dissidents as Cezanne, Van Gogh, Picasso among others. This is really good stuff but you will have to trust us. A photo permit costs $35!

Photos: Uzbekistan

vagabondstoo — Wed, 18 Mar 2015 23:13:00 GMT

Tashkent

vagabondstoo — Wed, 18 Mar 2015 00:52:00 GMT

THE SOVIETS ARE GONE BUT THEIR MENTALITY lives on in Uzbekistan. The visa process was just the tip of the iceberg. Before landing in Tashkent we had to declare everything of value — cameras, lenses, ipod, Kindle, computer — and all our money — dollars, euros, lira and som — in duplicate and we must keep a copy for examination upon departure. We will also need vouchers from every hotel and receipts for anything we purchase, all stamped with official seals. Thankfully, our “handler” from Advantour guided us through the arrival bureaucracy and introduced us to Ali, our driver.

Then there is the money issue. The “official” exchange rate for Uzbek “som” is 2500 per $US but everyone exchanges on the black market for 3500 and up. The largest denomination, 5000 som is worth about $1.30 so the $100 our driver exchanged for us won’t even fit in my billfold! The good news; lunch for the two of us and our guide cost 22,000, about six bucks.

Old Tashkent Tilla Sheikh Mosque

Pedestrian mall WW 2 Memorial

Tashkent is wonderful, a breath of fresh springtime air after the cold and snow of Bishkek. The grass is green, blossoms are a-popping on the apricot and almond trees, everything is spic-and-span. The capital reminds us a bit of Canberra with parks and monuments and even a serpentine river. The Soviet-era apartment blocks have been refurbished and young couples can buy a flat for about $20K. Spring cleaning was in full swing in preparation for Navruz, the spring equinox festival that is celebrated throughout Central Asia. Gardeners were busy planting flowers in the parks while workers on scaffolds polished the monumental statues. Along the pedestrian street local artists displayed many more paintings than they could ever hope to sell.

Old tashkent, by contrast, is a sleepy warren of narrow dirt paths that run between crumbling adobe walls and dry canals. Inside the walls Uzbek peasants live life much as they have for centuries, refusing the government’s attempt to move them into more modern digs. Some who have prospered under capitalism have built tidy modern villas amid the adobe, preferring the quiet traditional life to the bustle of modern Tashkent.

Back in Bishkek

vagabondstoo — Tue, 17 Mar 2015 23:53:00 GMT

THERE WERE 17 — COUNT ‘EM, 17 — TODDLERS on the flight back from Osh, seventeen chubby faces peeking out between woolen hats and puffy parkas. I guess things are looking up in Kyrgyzstan, bright enough for young couples to start families, something that can’t be said about much of the world.

One little, two little ...

We are back at the Ambassador in Bishkek, cooling our heels waiting for visas for Uzbekistan. Zamira told us to get in the queue at the consulate even though we didn’t yet have our elusive letter of introduction. She said she would book us an appointment and have her colleague (foreigners just love that word) hand deliver the LOI once she received it.

Well, we were admitted just before the noon closing and the visa lady reluctantly processed our papers. She isn’t exactly a people person and admonished us not to return again without a proper appointment. We rushed back to Advantours, stopping for a double hit at the ATM, paid for the trip and booked round-trip tickets to Tashkent and further ones to Tajikistan for April Fools Day. Fitting, no?

Osh and the Sulaiman Too Sacred Mountain

vagabondstoo — Sat, 14 Mar 2015 16:58:00 GMT

ONE THING YOU CAN SAY ABOUT OSH — IT ISN’T BISHKEK. It’s a dusty town on the border with Uzbekistan, ten hours by road or 45 air minutes and again we chose to fly. Once on the ground things began interestingly. Our disabled cab driver (muscular dystrophy?) was a pleasant guy and much liked by his fellow drivers. But he couldn’t find the Sunrise Hotel, not due to his disability, but because the hotel is hidden behind ongoing construction. It’s worth hunting for, however. The wifi is sporadic in all of Osh and TV is Russian only. But our suite is wonderful and the bathroom is almost as plush as those in Japan. Great breakfast, too.

Sunrise Hotel, worth the search

Osh was an important stop along the Silk Road, that network of trails, paths and passes that linked east and west for nearly 2000 years when caravans carried silk and other goods from Xian, China to Egypt. Few people, camels or goods ever traveled the entire route. Most worked only a section, stopping at places like Osh and Samarkand, exchanging their wares and returning, much like Pony Express riders would two thousand years later.

Silk wasn’t the only, or even the most important, thing carried along the Silk Road. The exchange of culture — art, religion, philosophy, techology, science, architecture and even language — spread westward along with commercial goods. And diseases, like the plague which arrived in Constantinople in 542, stowed away, too. When the Byzantine Empire fell in 1453 the Ottomans closed the Silk Road forcing merchants to find sea routes to the Orient.

Local ladies

There is little to be seen in Osh today of the Silk Road. Little to be seen of anything except the Sulaiman Too Sacred Mountain. (We had an AH-HA moment when we realized that Sulaiman and Solomon are cognate. It never crossed our minds when we were in Israel where both Solomon and Suleiman the Magnificent held court.) This UNESCO World Heritage site dominates the Fergana Valley and forms the backdrop to the city of Osh, at the crossroads of important routes on the Central Asian Silk Roads. For more than one and a half millennia, Sulaiman was a beacon for travellers and was revered as a sacred mountain. Yesterday we hiked around its five peaks and caves with the locals, enjoying the sunshine and spring flowers.

The Fanny Pack — Kate, Ali and Rebecca

The four sunburned young women were speaking real English, American English, at breakfast this morning. Well, Ali was — Rebecca, Kate and Lindsay are Canadians, eh. They had just returned from skiing the border area between Tajikistan, Afghanistan and China, studying the effects of fences on Marco Polo sheep migration, the same sheep we knew as argali in Mongolia. These ladies, known as the Fanny Pack, are the real deal. They are experienced mountaineers with some serious ascents in their CVs along with PhDs, awards and grants from prestigious scientific organizations. Two are fellow members of the Explorers Club. We are not in their league, of course, and it is great to know that others, younger and more talented than Connie and I, are also actively involved in conservation efforts. Check them out at www.borderski. com.

Bishkek

vagabondstoo — Wed, 11 Mar 2015 15:47:00 GMT

BISHKEK LOOKS MORE PLEASANT IN THE SUNSHINE than it did yesterday in the freezing drizzle. But even the fresh dusting of snow can’t hide the city’s glaring Soviet past. There isn’t much to see in the capital formerly known as Frunze but it is a transportation hub for the region and a necessary stop for getting a visa to Uzbekistan.

Staff at the Ambassador Hotel

Bishkek is one of the most Soviet cities in Central Asia, with lots of gray concrete, heroic plazas and even a MiG fighter plane on display. The Bishkek Park mall, with its designer clothing shops, Apple store and indoor ice rink, is one of the few modern Western concessions. There are no McDonalds, KFCs or PizzaHuts and diet cola is almost unheard of.

Gone . . . but not forgotten

The Ambassador is a good choice for whiling away the bureaucratic delays for a visa. When we arrived on International Women’s Day the manager gave Connie a long-stemmed rose, which went well with the travel bag Astana Air presented to the women on our short flight from Almaty. Our room is one of the nicest we have had and everything works! Room service is good and surprisingly affordable and the helpful staff put us in touch with Advantour to help us with our onward journey to Uzbekistan. Zamira, who speaks perfect English, is helping with the visa process beginning with the mandatory LOI (letter of invitation) and the application form. It appears that travel in Uzbekistan is nearly as difficult as in China so when she also offered us a private tour that checks off all of our needs so we decided to take the easy way out.

Photos: Kyrgyzstan

vagabondstoo — Mon, 9 Mar 2015 17:52:00 GMT

Tamgaly Petroglyphs

vagabondstoo — Sat, 7 Mar 2015 21:09:00 GMT

WE DIDN’T REALIZE THAT THERE ARE TWO SITES called “Tamgaly.” Neither, as it happens, did Vladimir when he hooked us up with Tour 4X4 for a day trip. “Tamgaly” means “stone writing” and both places are known for their petroglyphs, images carved, chipped and scratched into the rock faces. Tamgaly Tas, 100 kilometers north of Almaty, was made by Buddhist travelers along the Silk Road in the 13th Century. Even if we hadn’t recognized the art as Buddhist, the faded prayer flags were a sure giveaway.

Prayer flags and rock art, Tamgaly Tas

The “real” Tamgaly, the one we wanted to see, is 170 km to the northwest of Almaty. This UNESCO World Heritage site dates from the Bronze Age around 3000 BC. There are thousands of animals, people and symbols carved into the rock faces. Some are nearly life-sized while others are barely visible.

Sergei, patient and willing to make ammends

Sergei met us on schedule in his beefy Land Cruiser and headed off to Tamgaly Tas. It wasn’t until we arrived that we realized it wasn’t the place we really wanted. We could tell that Sergei was embarrassed and he offered to take us to the World Heritage site, four hours away, and charge us only $200 for the day. Instead of “wasting” $125 on the wrong site, we got to see both at a discounted price and a taste of the steppe as a bonus.

World Heritage sign at one of the rock sites

It was nearly five o’clock when we reached Tamgaly (the second one) and wouldn’t you know it, the gate was locked. After coming all this way we felt no guilt in hopping the fence and walking the half-mile to the petroglyphs. We have seen ancient rock art in many places around the world. It’s fascinating, not because of its esthetic quality — except for some of the cave paintings in France and Spain, much of it looks like it was done by slow first-grade students — but because of its age and the stories that it tells. It is also interesting how different cultures on different continents were inspired to chip similar images into the rock.

The "real" Tamgali Keeping things in perspective

People and . . . Animals

The sun was setting as we headed for home, three hours distant. It was a long day, one that snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. A good way to end our time in Kazakhstan.

Almaty

vagabondstoo — Thu, 5 Mar 2015 22:31:00 GMT

THE DECISION TO FLY TO ALMATY WAS AN EASY ONE — twenty-two hours by train versus 90 minutes in the air. As much as we like train travel, a full day across the flat, snowy barrens of Kazakhstan wasn’t tempting in the least.

Almaty, originally Alma Ata, “Father of Apples,” was the capital of Kazakhstan from 1927 until 1998. It was moved out of the earthquake prone southern area to Astana to be more central and nearer Moscow. Almaty is still considered the cultural and social capital of the country but we are having trouble getting a handle on it. It has many modern conveniences but still exudes a communist-era feel. Even the Ascension Cathedral is modeled after St. Basil's in Moscow.

Panfilov Park WWII Memorial

Vladimir met us at the airport and drove us to the Guesthouse on Sadovaya, a perfectly wonderful place, if a bit out of the way. Our “suite” isn’t lushly furnished but it is spacious with a fridge and both CNN and BBC. The bathroom has one of the best showers we’ve had in a while, the water is hot and the temperature of the room is in the Goldilocks zone — just right.

Our best buddy, Vladimir

Vladimir speaks little English and his son Alexander isn’t much better. My Russian is limited to “Hello,” “Good-bye” and “Thank you” but somehow we have been able to communicate. Vladimir is more than willing to drive us to the supermarket and has offered to take us towards the national park tomorrow for only gas money. Can you imagine the folks at the Holdiayinn being so accommodating?

Around Astana

vagabondstoo — Tue, 3 Mar 2015 22:38:00 GMT

WITH APOLOGIES TO WC FIELDS, WE WENT TO ASTANA and it was closed. Actually, we cocooned in our room both Sunday and Monday recuperating from the trip from Kuwait — a combination of a 4 AM departure, another layover in Abu Dhabi, airline food, dehydration and a three-hour time change.

Cold Kidz

Today we ventured out into the cold and hiked the icy streets of Astana from the aptly named “Tent” to the “Pyramid” or Palace of Peace and Accord, about six miles. Astana would be a wonderful place to walk in the spring when the newly planted trees are green. The mall which extends two kilometers from the Tent to the Presidential Palace is designed for pedestrians. But despite the workers chipping away at the frozen snow, the footing is treacherous in the winter.

Billboard Independence Square

Golden Man Pyramid

The Tent is actually a rather tony mall filled with high-end shops, not exactly what I expected to find in Kazakhstan. Not that I had any expectations. At the other end of the walk, the Pyramid was closed due to “technical difficulties” and Presidential Culture Center was holding a special event to which, surprisingly, we were not invited. We did make it to the museum but decided the $15 entry wasn’t worth it if the docent/guard was going to shadow us. Oh, well. We got our exercise for the day.

A Cold Welcome to Astana

vagabondstoo — Sun, 1 Mar 2015 04:01:00 GMT

AS I LOOKED OUT THE WINDOW ON THE PLANE’S final approach, I could almost see a pack of wolves chasing Zhivago and Lara’s sleigh across the snowy landscape. Guess I was hallucinating — 30 sleepless hours can do that. The blast of cold as we left the plane shocked me awake. Welcome to Kazakhstan, -5℃ (23℉). B-R-R-R! The friendly folks at Etihad Airlines in Kuwait gave us a bit of a scare when they at first refused to let us fly. Kazakhstan recently introduced 15-day visas on arrival but Etihad believed we needed to have an onward ticket to be allowed entry. Not true, it turns out so we can stay for a while.

Kazakhstan has been on our radar for quite some time, since before we retired, in fact. When Connie's application for a posting as military liason to Kazakhstan was denied we decided to quit work and live it up. And now, nearly 12 years later, here we are. Astana (ACTAHA in Cyrillic) is the "new" capital of Kazakhstan, the first of what Connie calls the "Peaceful 'Stans" that we will visit in the next few months. So far it doesn't appear that much different than Ulaanbaatar — except for the snow.

Baiterek Monumnet

Airport taxi negotiations in a new country with strange currency are always a bone of contention — both between the opportunistic drivers who want to overcharge and between us. Connie wants to bargain hard and I just want to get to the hotel. We ended up compromising with a driver who had NASCAR aspirations. The Belon Lux in Astana seems wonderful. Our room is plain but spacious and the room service breakfast is good. TV is all in Russian but the wifi is fast and reliable. As it turns out we are a short walk from a mall with a supermarket and several restaurants including KFC and Burger King in case we feel nostalgic.

Photos: Kazakhstan

vagabondstoo — Sun, 1 Mar 2015 03:10:00 GMT

Kuwait National Day

vagabondstoo — Wed, 25 Feb 2015 06:52:00 GMT

KUWAIT, A FORMER BRITISH PROTECTORATE, is a new country, achieving independence on 25 February, 1960. Which is how we stumbled upon the National Day celebrations, a day of picnicing along the parade route, of kids with water bazookas dousing each other, a military fly-over and evening fireworks.

National Day Parade

Everything — and everyone — was decked out in the green, white, red and black colors of the flag of Kuwait. Well, not everyone. Many of the women wore the traditional black burnoose with only a slit of eyes showing. They didn’t wish to be photographed but they had no problem with posing their kids for us. And we were part of the attraction. One little girls stopped dead in her tracks, looked up at Connie and said, “Awesome!” We ran into Abdullah and his mates at the Ministry of Youth tent who invited us in for coffee and snacks and a safe refuge from the kids with the water guns.

Zain, Abdullah and Ali, Ministry of Youth

The parade was to begin at 3 PM, then 3:30, then 4. By 4:30 when the cold wind from the Gulf became too much, we retreated to the hotel. We watched the fireworks later that evening from the comfort of our room.

Kuwait Wild Goose Chase

vagabondstoo — Tue, 24 Feb 2015 06:48:00 GMT

KUWAIT IS THE LAST OF THE ARABIAN GULF COUNTRIES left for us to visit as Americans, completing the category as they say on Jeopardy. This, and the fact that our onward flight leaves from Abu Dhabi, are the only reasons we decided to come here. Kuwait City is upscale and pricey, dusty and glitzy and full of luxury cars and giant SUVs with nowhere to go. The office buildings resemble modern sculpture more than traditional skyscrapers, especially at night when they are lit up like Christmas trees.

Keeping the architecture clean

It isn’t especially pedestrian friendly and it is hard to match up the actual streets with the map. The only sites highlighted on the map are shopping malls — cafe life and shopping seem to be the main activities in Kuwait City — and we couldn’t locate the Museum of Islamic Calligraphy on the map. Dozens of people gave us directions but since only one in three residents is from Kuwait, they weren’t of much help. The majority of population, who are from India, Pakistan and the Philippines, know only the route from where they live to where they work.

Lulu and Dhay point Connie in the right direction

Finally Lulu and Dhay, two students who had studied in the US got us pointed in the right direction. We got as far as the National Library where we met Abdullah from the Ministry of Youth. His friend actually knew where we wanted to go, still more than a mile away. By then we were ready to surrender and we returned to our hotel.

Photos: Kuwait

vagabondstoo — Mon, 23 Feb 2015 20:23:00 GMT