This photo was taken during our afternoon walk through Khiva, most likely in the inner courtyard of the Tash Khauli Palace—the city's second royal residence, known for its stunning blue tilework and intricate architectural details.

I saw this young woman dancing alone, clearly enjoying the space and the moment. She stopped shyly when she noticed me taking the photo and stepped down from the platform. I thanked her and asked where she was from—she smiled and told me she was from Kazakhstan.

A spontaneous and human moment, set against a backdrop full of history.

This photo was taken during an 8-hour train ride through Uzbekistan in third class, the most basic option available. Without air conditioning, the heat inside became unbearable, and outside temperatures reached 37°C.

But this moment stood out: a man quietly enduring the journey in his undershirt, another trying to cool off with a towel. No one complained. Everyone just coped in their own way.

Travel isn't always smooth or scenic. Sometimes it's crowded, sweaty, and slow. But it's real—and full of small, honest moments like this.

​This is the inner courtyard of the Muhammad Amin Khan Madrasah, the most significant madrasah in Khiva. It is located just inside the west gate of the old city, Itchan Kala. Built between 1851 and 1854, it was commissioned by Khan Muhammad Amin, one of the last rulers of the independent Khanate of Khiva.

The two-story madrasah once housed over 250 students, including lecture halls, student cells, and a mosque. Its size and layout reflect Khiva's role as a religious and administrative center in the 19th century.

In the background rises the unmistakable Kalta Minor, known for its vivid turquoise tilework and unusually stumpy appearance. It was intended to be the tallest minaret in Central Asia. Still, construction was abruptly halted after the khan's death, leaving behind what is now Khiva's most iconic architectural feature.

Today, the madrasah functions as a hotel and museum.

This image was taken from nearly the same spot as my wider courtyard shot, but this time with a 75mm lens. The goal was to isolate the Kalta Minor and highlight how its glazed tiles and pastel tones interact with the surrounding domes and arches.

​Whether this tighter composition works is up for debate. But I was drawn to the layered geometry, the contrast between the warm mudbrick and cool turquoise, and how the afternoon light softened the entire scene.

This shot was taken just outside the Muhammad Amin Khan Madrasah, featuring a close-up of the Kalta Minor minaret. 

At the base of the minaret sits a life-size bronze sculpture of two men chatting, with a samovar bubbling at their feet — a quiet nod to Khiva’s long-standing traditions of hospitality and tea culture. It’s one of several street-style statues in Itchan Kala that celebrate everyday moments in Uzbek life. The mix of monumental architecture and informal storytelling creates a layered visual that timeless and amusing.

In the heart of Tashkent, Independence Square is Uzbekistan's most important public space and a symbol of national sovereignty. Originally built during the Soviet era, the area has been transformed to reflect the country's independence and identity.

The square features long rows of white columns topped with metal stork sculptures, symbolizing peace. A series of fountains leads the eye toward modern government buildings in the background, including the Senate and Cabinet of Ministers. The space is open, symmetrical, and designed to impress, combining monumentality with calm, landscaped surroundings.
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It's a place for official ceremonies, quiet walks, and, of course, photography.

On the path toward the construction site of the new Center of Islamic Civilization in Tashkent, I crossed paths with these two cheerful tourists. Framed by patterned shadows and spontaneous laughter, they happily struck a pose — turning a construction barrier into their personal stage.

Sometimes, the most memorable moments aren’t part of the plan — they just happen.

This photo was taken in front of the Abdulaziz-Khan Madrasah in Bukhara. The entrance is a striking example of 17th-century Islamic architecture, adorned with intricate tilework, tall arches, and colorful muqarnas (stalactite-style ornamentation). The madrasa, built in 1652, was intended to rival the older Ulugbek Madrasah just across the square. 

The woman in the photo was not merely posing for fun. She allowed me to take pictures, clearly hoping I'd buy something from her—in this case, an embroidered tablecloth. We ended up purchasing one for €25. It wasn't particularly unique, but it felt fair to support her after she had stood there patiently. 

Later, we observed the same tablecloths sold at many tourist spots across the Silk Road. It wasn't a rare find, but now it's part of the story.

I got up at 5:30, long before the city stirred, hoping to photograph the old town of Bukhara in the soft light of sunrise. The streets were empty except for the occasional local passing by, like the boy on a bicycle who rolled through the scene just as I raised my camera.

The Abdulaziz-Khan Madrasah was built in 1652 as a showpiece of power and beauty. It was designed to rival — and even outshine — the older Ulugbek Madrasah across the square. The façade is covered in intricate tilework, muqarnas, and delicate patterns that glow in the early light.

 Imagining what this square might have looked like centuries ago is easy without crowds or distractions. And that, to me, is the magic of Bukhara — a city where history doesn't feel distant but lived-in.

Some vendors at Chorsu Market love the camera, but others do not. I tried to convince this cauliflower seller, but his message was clear. Sometimes, you must respect the "no" and move on.

Chorsu Market is one of the oldest and busiest in Central Asia. It's a maze of fresh produce, spices, meats, fabrics, and everyday street life, all under its iconic blue dome. Locals come here daily, and for a photographer, it's a goldmine of character, color, and honest human moments — even when the moment means not taking the shot.

​Under construction since 2018, this impressive new landmark rises next to the historic Hazrati Imam Complex—the religious heart of Tashkent and one of Uzbekistan's most important Islamic sites. The Hazrati Imam Complex houses ancient mosques, madrasas, and the famous Uthman Quran, considered one of the world's oldest copies of the holy book.

Once completed, the new center will serve as a mosque and a cultural and educational hub for the region. The main building, which is 145 meters long, is topped by a striking 64-meter-high dome that already defines the modern skyline of the capital.
Inside, the complex will include a museum with five themed halls covering everything from pre-Islamic heritage to the Timurid Renaissance, as well as a library that will house more than 100,000 manuscripts and digital archives.

Unlike many parts of Western Europe, churches are often deconsecrated or repurposed as secular spaces. Uzbekistan has seen a religious revival since gaining independence in 1991. After decades of Soviet-era restrictions, people here have once again embraced religious practice, particularly Islam, which is deeply woven into the country's identity and history. 

​This image was taken just steps from one of Uzbekistan's most revered religious sites: the Hazrati Imam Complex. The turquoise dome is part of one of its historic buildings and a centuries-old ensemble of mosques, madrasas, and mausoleums.

The complex is also home to the Uthman Quran, believed to be the world's oldest surviving manuscript of the Koran, dating back to the 7th century. Built on the burial site of Hazrati Imam (also known as Kaffal Shashi), a respected Islamic scholar and poet, the complex has long been a center of religious life in Tashkent. It continues to serve as a place of worship and a symbol of Uzbekistan's Islamic heritage.

Framing the dome between modern and traditional structures, I focused on geometric shapes and soft light to offer a quieter, more abstract view of a place steeped in spiritual history.

​This former madrasa, once a center of Islamic education, now serves a different purpose. Its historic cells have been repurposed into small shops selling traditional crafts, ceramics, and textiles — part of a broader trend across Uzbekistan where heritage sites are preserved but adapted for cultural tourism.

While souvenir shops can add charm and accessibility to historical sites, they quickly become repetitive when every shop offers the same products. What starts as authentic can easily feel over-commercialized. As Uzbekistan welcomes more visitors, it still needs to find the right balance between showcasing its rich heritage and preserving each site's uniqueness.
In the background, the blue-striped Center of Islamic Civilization dome is still under construction. I chose this composition carefully — one of the few places where I could frame the new dome cleanly, without cranes or construction fences.

The richly tiled dome in the foreground belongs to the older structure. Together, they create a visual contrast between preserved tradition and a modern effort to shape the future of Islamic scholarship in the region.

Located in the heart of Uzbekistan's capital, Chorsu Bazaar is one of Central Asia's oldest and busiest markets. Fresh produce, meats, and dairy are available inside the iconic turquoise-domed building. Outside, the atmosphere continues with rows of open-air stalls selling spices, grains, textiles, and household goods.
While wandering through the market with my camera, these two spice vendors waved me over and asked if I'd like to take their picture. The result is this candid moment—a quiet pause in the bustle of one of Tashkent's most colorful places.