Inside a tree. Chor-Chinoor.

Chor-Chinor,in around about way, translates as ‘four sycamore trees’, it is a small wooded area located in a small ancient town of Urgut.

It is rumoured that the oldest tree here is 1163 years old and the youngest is nigh on 600 years old. Fucking awesome, arborists and scientists will tell us that sycamores die off at around 400 years old. How we love and suck up fairy stories even though the science tells us otherwise.

With a circumference of circa 95 ft, a carved doorway, not to some far off Narnia type place, but into a completely hollowed out monster of a tree where once sat a Sufi mystic, welcoming in scholars and the devout.

Even in this day and age many people from across The Stans visit here seeking penance and healing, answers to their problems seeking out peace and wisdom. Good luck with that, far easier to crack open a cold one and let the magic elixir of Stella work her magic. Whirling Dervishes optional, usually appear after the fifth cap has been flipped.

Just a bunch of awestruck travellers

Mother nature is amazing, her tree still thrives and lives.

Early in the 20th century a madrassa was built in the park, this later became a mosque.

A place where men seem to like to hang out with other men, always amazes me islam how women are seen as second class citizens. maybe misogynists like this like other men too much.

The care taker kindly let me in....or perhaps he wanted another prisoner

A fairly recent construction, not looking so good.

There are several legends relating to the Chor-Chinor garden; one says that a mighty hero (name unknown, good start), the founder of the garden stole a magic stone from some nearby evil spirits (that's handy).

As soon as he placed the cobble stone on the ground spring waters erupted out of the ground. (Wow reminds me about the Beverley Hill Billies striking oil)

Our unknown un-named hero decided to plant four cuttings of sycamore that were brought to him by four beautiful birds. (convenient)

The trees survived time and turned into this wonderful grove.

Oh Dear...time to reflect

Some folk still consider the waters from the spring to hold sacred healing powers, many pilgrims bring empty bottles to fill up to take back to family and loved ones.

I usually buy fridge magnets

_{Thanks for visiting my page, I am pleased to make your acquaintance. this is Stephen aka, @grindle, happily retired, travelling the world snapping away. My weapon of choice is currently a Nikon Z6(2). Unless stated all images are shot by me (©@grindle) all text is mine, based on various info sources. NOT AI generated. If you like my blog, it would be very much appreciated if you upvote and follow me. Also please feel free to drop a comment.}

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