"Next morning we quitted the caravan route we had hitherto been following, and bent our course north west. The desert was, if possible, even more inhospitable in this direction. The sand was deep and fine, the unfortunate camels sunk deep at every step, and we made slow progress. The heat was murderous, the drinking water which we carried was practically boiling and strongly salty, and I could not master my terrible thirst. I admired Khores and the Sariq, who never touched a drop of water the livelong day. When I complained of thirst one of the policemen gave me a pebble of which he had several in his pocket. As soon as I felt it in my mouth my thirst diminished and became tolerable.
My new companion told me that there were some places on the lower Amu Darya where there are piles of flattish pebbles of a convenient size and shape for carrying in the mouth. No caravan which crosses the river passes these spots without laying in a stock of them, partly to replenish their own store and partly to serve as presents to other caravans whose course does not take them to the river and who are grateful for the gift."

Gustav Krist, 'Journey through a Forbidden Land', 1939

Krist, like many before him, was willing to risk the ravages of desert travel; a necessity for both explorers and traders in Central Asia. Temperatures could rocket as high as seventy degrees in the height of summer and plummet down to minus thirty or forty in winter. Wells were infrequent and often brackish and salty, sand-storms could spring up without warning and even the most expert of guides sometimes lost their way. The Caravanbashi (literally 'father of the caravan') would also be constantly casting wary glances over his shoulder for the scourge of the Karakorum desert: the Turkoman raiders. Appearing in a billowing cloud of dust they would terrify caravans and often overwhelm much larger parties than their own. Those who were not slain would be bound and hauled to the slave markets of Khiva and Bukhara.

Despite all these dangers, the huge deserts, plains and mountains of Central Asia were the main trading routes between the Eastern empire of China and the Western empires of Rome and Greece. There was little merchandise that could make such life-threatening dangers and discomforts worthwhile. Indeed, in its heyday, the principle merchandise from the East could be sold for huge sums in Rome and was said to be worth its weight in gold. It also gave the criss-cross of trading routes in Central Asia their name. The merchandise was silk.
As with most great inventions, sericulture (silk production) was discovered by accident. The Yellow Empress was apparently enjoying a quiet cup of green tea in her garden, when a silk cocoon fell into her cup from the overhanging mulberry tree. As she tried to fish it out, it began to unravel. The thread was fine but sturdy and once woven, produced a strong, shimmering fabric that was to change the fortunes of China forever.
While sericulture blossomed in China, the fabric was unheard-of elsewhere. The barbaric Huns, hated and feared by the Chinese, created an effective barrier between China and the empires to the West. The Huns' constant raiding and plundering of Chinese cities eventually, in 138 BC, led the Emperor to send an emissary and army of a hundred men to seek allies who would join his army in defeating the Huns forever.
The Chinese knew very little about the kingdoms to the West and it was not without some trepidation that the emissary Chang-Chien set off across uncharted territory with his men. Despite being captured twice by the Huns and spending eleven years as their prisoner, Chang-Chien was eventually able to make contact with the people of Ferghana, Khorezm and Bactria. The ruler of Khorezm knew the Huns well and also hated them, but was unwilling to antagonise his old enemies and involve his people in a war. Chang-Chien received similarly reluctant responses from the other cities he visited and eventually returned to China having failed to find allies.

However, the mission was an unexpected success in other ways. Chang-Chien had received offers of trade wherever he went as local populations were mesmerised by his iridescent silk. He also discovered in the Ferghana Valley the legendary blood-sweating heavenly horses, which were just what the Emperor needed to gain an advantage against the Huns. On his return, the Emperor, thrilled to see his emissary once more, immediately set about acquiring his own 'heavenly horses'. He would need a considerable number for his army and the most obvious means of acquisition was through trade. The first trade caravans were sent off to Central Asia and the Silk Road was born.
It was when the first silk togas scandalised Rome with their seductive translucence that trade began to boom. The demand was huge and despite much debate as to the type of vegetable or tree which silk came from, the Romans were unable to discover its origin.

The Chinese, quite wisely, were careful to keep it that way. Soon caravans a thousand camels strong were braving their way across Central Asia. It could take as little as 200 days to traverse the entire route, but most traders chose instead to ply just one leg of the journey. As a result, caravanserais sprung up in the many desert oases, offering both accommodation and the opportunity for goods to change hands. Before long these caravan stops had mushroomed into fully-fledged cities such as Merv, Gurgench (modern-day Kunya Urgench), Bukhara, Kokand, Khotan and Samarkand.
Silk was by no means the only merchandise to make its way from China across the Silk Road. Porcelain, paper, gunpowder and spices were taken westwards while fruit (including the famed melons of Khiva), horses, coral, glass, asbestos and even ostriches were taken eastwards to the Celestial Empire. As merchandise changed hands across the various caravanserais of Central Asia, so did new religions, philosophies and inventions.
The secret of sericulture also travelled along the Silk Road, hidden in the elaborate hairstyle of a Chinese princess and even in a hollowed-out staff of a Nestorian monk. Buddhism, on the decline in India, was brought eastwards and soon established itself in communities that still exist today. Nestorian Christianity also found fertile soil in Central Asia, and soon cathedrals dotted the Silk Road, including the Cathedral of St George built where the Registan stands today in Samarkand. The sword of Islam swept long the Silk Road as Arab Muslims took their Jihad east, bringing their religion with them.

By the 13th century, the Silk Road had declined in importance. Trade between East and West along the sea routes proved much more economical than the demanding land routes had been, and European silk production had led to a decline in demand from China. As the importance of the Silk Road waned, merchants looked towards more localised markets for trade. Cities such as Khiva were still active trading sites, but the trade was principally with neighbouring Persia and Bukhara.

However, by the 18th and 19th centuries, the European empires of Russia and Britain began exploring the untapped markets of Central Asia. Russia, by its very proximity to the khanates of Central Asia, found a lucrative market for its manufactured goods. In 1865, when Vambery, the disguised Hungarian, travelled through Central Asia he noted, 'It is by no means an exaggeration to assert that there is no house, and even no tent, in all Central Asia where there is not some articles of Russian manufacture.' He was also quick to point out that this need not be the case and that the distance from Orenburg to Bukhara were no greater than from Bukhara to Karachi, then part of British India. As for Khiva, it was well positioned as the main trading post between Russia and Central Asia.

"The principal trade is with Russia. Caravans, consisting of from one to two thousand camels, go to Orenburg in spring, and to Astrakhan in Autumn, conveying cotton, silk, skins, coats for the Nagai Tartars, Shagreen leather, and fruits to the markets of Nishnei (which they call also Makaria); they bring back in return kettles or other vessels of cast iron (here called Djoghen), chintz (the kind used by us to cover furniture and here employed for the fronts of women's shifts), fine muslin,calicos, clothing, sugar, iron, guns of inferior quality, and fancy goods in small quantities... With Persia and Herat the trade is inconsiderable; the reason is that the routes leading thither are occupied by the Turkomans. Between Khiva and Astrabad the intercourse is entirely in the hands of the Yomuts, who bring with them every year 100 or 150 camels, loaded with box wood (to make combs) and naphtha. With Bukhara, on the contrary, more important transactions take place. They export thither gowns and linen, and receive in exchange teas, spices, paper, and light fancy goods there manufactured."

Arminius Vambery, 'Travels in Central Asia' 1864

Melons were one of Khiva's main exports. Famed for their size and flavour, they would be packed with ice that had been collected in winter and stored underground and then placed into large lead containers. They would then be transported by camel across the deserts and mountains for the banquets of the Tsar of Russia and the table of the Emperor of China. Trading in Khiva was one of the most lucrative forms of income, but it came with a price. Flanked by the Karakum (black sands) and Kyzlkum (red sands), the Oasis was reached from Persia or Russia only after an arduous journey across the desert.
Not only were caravans at constant risk from Turkoman bandits, they were also liable to lose their way. Once lost, and away from the sporadic wells, death was certain.

Wells were crucial for survival but not always easy to find.

"By daylight even, it was difficult to trace the road, the soil being nothing but loose sand, which drifts with every breeze. The only good marks are the bones of dead animals, of which there are great quantities. Some public spirited have been at the trouble of occasionally putting the skeleton of a camels head on a bush near the road, and this is considered an infallible sign."

Richmond Shakespear 'A Personal Narrative of a Journey from Herat to Orenburg on the Caspian in 1840' 1842

Even travellers who did not lose their way experienced the full rigours and trials of an unquenchable thirst.

"This evening my appetite left me. I had not the slightest craving even for the smallest piece of bread:my sensations were those of extreme debility; the heat of the day was indescribable. My strength was gone and I was lying there extended, when I perceived that all were pressing round the Karavanbashi, making signs for me to approach. The words 'water, water' gave me fresh vigour. I sprang up; how overjoyed and how surprised I was when I saw the Karavanbashi dealing out to each member of the Caravan two glasses of the precious liquid. The honest Turkoman told us that for years it had been his practice in the desert to keep concealed a considerable quantity, and this he doled out when he knew it would be most acceptable; that this would be a great Sevab (act of piety), for a Turkoman proverb says that 'A drop of water to the man thirsty in the wilderness washes away a hundred years' sins.'
It is impossible to measure the degree of the benefit as to describe the enjoyment of such a draught! I felt myself fully satisfied, and imagined that I could again hold out for three days."

Arminius Vambery 'Travels in Central Asia' 1864

Robert Jefferson, the jolly British cyclist, decided in 1899 to cycle to Khiva, simply because others said it couldn't be done. He soon realised how formidable such an undertaking could be and that the desert held some particularly dangerous secrets.

"I perceived what at first looked like a big, black wave of water rolling along towards me with great rapidity. Bigger and bigger it grew, mounting higher and higher as it advanced... A presentiment that something was going to happen possessed me, and seizing my bicycle I mounted with all rapidity and sped back in the direction of the village. Nearer and nearer came the cloud, now so high and sinister, while louder and louder had the moaning become. The top of the cloud bent over and circled under. The next moment it was upon me. With a roar, and a boom, the great wave enveloped myself and my bicycle. It was not rain, it was sand."

R Jefferson, 'A New Ride to Khiva', 1899

However, the arduous journey did not prevent a whole community of German Mennonites from sailing down the Amu Darya and settling in the Khorezm Oasis during the 1880s. They introduced Khiva to the tomato, cucumber and potato which had never been grown in Khorezm, having never been considered lucrative enough to bring and barter from Russia.
The role of trade in Khiva altered significantly with the drawing down of the Iron Curtain. The traditional Silk Road was rerouted along ideological lines. Soon trade was being carried out with countries which most Khivans had never heard of before, such as Lithuania and Yugoslavia. The Soviet drive towards industrialisation meant that desert tracks were gradually replaced with train tracks and asphalt. Huge freighter trains would lumber out of Khorezm, laden with mountains of cotton to fulfil Soviet quotas and to be manufactured elsewhere. It was not until the collapse of the Soviet Union that the cities of Central Asia emerged, blinking, into a world of globalised commerce and the possibility of a revived Silk Road presented itself.

Since then there has been a renaissance in trade with Turkey, Iran, China and India. Lorries and buses have replaced the camel caravans of merchants and pilgrims, and oil, coke and cotton have taken the place of paper, silk and spices. Less exotic and perhaps less strategic to global commerce than in its heyday, the Silk Road is once again bringing wary nation states into contact with one another as traders take to their buses, bazaar bag in hand, and head off in a shimmering haze across the desert.