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We're amazed at the inefficiency of this place. We found a table for breakfast that was not laid up, but then none of them are, then watched bemused as 5 members of staff sat/stood around chatting while guests hunted for sugar, cutlery and plates. When the staff were asked for something they sauntered off, annoyed that we'd interrupted their holiday then forgot what it was we asked them for. Never before have we seen a coffee station manned by 3 people.One to ask if you want black or white coffee, which he then dispenses from one of those large thermos jugs with a push button top, and the other two to punch each other in the arms in mock fighting!!
We just grabbed a coffee and went to the lobby to wait for the manager to arrive. Whilst sitting down I noticed a young buxom woman, smartly dressed in a black skirt and jacket with a white blouse.She was on her phone and was clearly waiting for someone. I think she's a hooker. Whilst waiting we took the comments book from reception and astounded Rusty by writing 1½ pages of feedback.
In the meantime, the 'hooker' spotted her companion, got up and walked to greet him. She smiled a lot, flirted even more then took off her jacket, seductively pushing her boobs up and out in front of him, the not so subliminal message 'I hope you like what you see' open for all, who are looking at least, to see. Rusty also looked over and told us that the manager had just walked in and that the girl in black was being interviewed to replace yesterday's receptionist with the mobile phone addiction!
I headed upstairs to grab the bags, forgetting that the essay was not yet finished and I returned to find the manager reading it. Oops. He'd just seen the bit where I wrote that 'he was not professional, did not set a good example for his staff and clearly needed to show some leadership'. Double oops. I took the book back, wrote a post script complimenting the two good staff, one of whom is Rusty's friend, then left with the others to commence the walking tour of Samarkand.
We started early in an attempt to avoid the crowds and our plan seemed to work as we were pretty much the first to arrive at Amir Temur's Mausoleum. However, whilst hanging around outside listening to Rusty tell us all about the complex a coach load of, yep, French, arrived so went spent the rest of the time there trying to avoid them.
Rusty first took us to the site of Temur's throne, a massive rectangular hunk of stone upon which he would either sit on his throne or pose, mounted on his horse.Behind the slab are the remains of the throne itself together with a vast stone 'urn'.Before going into battle, Temur would order that it be filled with pomegranate juice and then instruct his soldiers to each drink a measured cup full of the liquid before going to war.He repeated the ritual on the return from the campaign and, by measuring the difference in the level of the liquid at the start and at the end of the conflict, he would know how many of his soldiers died in battle.Now Rusty is a great story teller and this is a wonderful tale but I just can't help wondering that it would have been so much simpler just to count the men instead of launching into a whole raft of algebraic calculations.
More to follow when the rest of the blog is updated.
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