Planespotting: Between the Sky and the Lens

Planes take off and disappear beyond the horizon, leaving behind not only a trail in the sky but also countless stories. For some, they are merely a mode of transport, but for planespotters, they represent a true art, a passion, and a way of life. They wake up at the crack of dawn to "catch" a rare aircraft, navigate difficult routes for a single perfect shot, and debate angles and camera settings—yet they always remain a close-knit community. Their hobby demands patience, quick reflexes, and the ability to see beauty where others see just metal.

Sardor Yusupov: When planes matter more than meetings

My fascination with the sky began at an early age. We lived near an airport, and my grandfather often took me to a bridge that offered a great view of the runway. I could spend hours watching planes pick up speed, lift off, and vanish into the clouds. Back then, I had no idea that this passion would one day become such an important part of my life.

Years passed, but my interest in aviation only grew stronger. One day, I came across a video about planespotting at Tashkent Airport, and I was amazed—there was an entire community of people in Uzbekistan who shared my passion! They gathered at the airport, took photos, and discussed aviation events. I knew I wanted to be part of this world.

While searching for more information, I met Rustam Mannanov, who explained everything in detail—where to shoot, how to get into official events, and what to pay attention to. That was the beginning of my journey into planespotting, and in the spring of 2024, I attended my first official photoshoot at the airport.

That day left a lasting impression. We passed through security, were given a special observation area, and had the opportunity to shoot all day. Unlike photographing through a fence, this time, we had access to the most thrilling angles. We watched aircraft being prepared for departure and captured moments usually hidden from view. It was my first real "wow" moment, cementing my love for the hobby.

Over time, I realized that planespotting is not just about photography but also about videography. Many share their shots on platforms like JetPhotos or Instagram, but I wanted to convey something more—movement, sound, the energy of the moment. Gradually, I started filming videos, and soon, they caught the attention of not only my friends and followers but also professionals in the aviation industry. People started reaching out for footage, and that's when I realized my hobby was becoming something bigger.

However, planespotting isn’t just about capturing beautiful shots. It often requires patience, endurance, and even overcoming unexpected obstacles. One such challenge occurred when the leader of a neighboring country arrived in Tashkent. We spent the entire day on a bridge, waiting for his plane, without knowing the exact arrival time. Our cameras were ready, focus sharpened—only for us to be surrounded by police officers just minutes before landing. They didn’t understand why we were there or why we were photographing planes at all. Our explanations about it being a hobby didn’t resonate.

"A hobby? Who would even be interested in this?" — they asked with confusion.

In the end, we were taken to the police station, and the long-awaited flight landed without us.

Situations like these happen elsewhere too. Even outside airport grounds, spotters often attract unwanted attention. If you stand near a fence, security might question you. Even though we break no rules, people find our hobby unusual—especially when they see our long telephoto lenses, which from a distance might look suspicious. Even at the airport, strict restrictions apply: we are given designated zones and always follow the rules.

But despite the challenges, planespotting remains my passion. It’s not just about photography; it’s a hunt for unique moments. It’s not enough to find the right angle—you need to capture something rare. One of my most prized videos was of five Su aircraft flying over Yangi Uzbekistan Park on Independence Day. They left a smoke trail and unfolded the Uzbek flag in the sky.

Of course, not every moment can be captured. Sometimes, a rare aircraft appears unexpectedly, and there’s no camera at hand. It happened once while I was driving—I just didn’t have time to prepare. In such cases, I try to record a quick video on my phone—better to have something than nothing at all.

Beyond the technical side, planespotting is about community. I’ve noticed that newcomers sometimes argue with experienced spotters, ignoring their advice, but I always believed that you can learn from everyone. When I started, I followed Rustam’s guidance, which was crucial when shooting in challenging locations.

Over the past year, I’ve seen how planespotting in Uzbekistan is growing. More people are getting interested, finding us on social media, asking where they can shoot. Some even message me, thinking I work at the airport, asking if I can take them inside. I explain that official events only happen two or three times a year, but I’m still happy to see the increasing enthusiasm.

Aviation captivates me not just with its flights but also with the unique aircraft designs. Recently, Centrum Air updated their livery, and it looks impressive. My Freighter is also notable—one of their planes still has a Canadian flag on its tail, which was never painted over. That aircraft became a legend among local spotters, and many are eager to photograph it.

Planespotting has taught me that quality matters more than quantity. Many spotters have already documented all the usual flights in Uzbekistan, but when something unusual appears—something not yet in the collection—that’s when the real excitement kicks in.

Aviation isn’t just a hobby for me—it’s a crucial part of my life. I have family members working in the industry, and if I weren’t a planespotter, I might have chosen to be a pilot. But for now, I keep filming, searching for new angles, and capturing moments that can never be repeated.

The phone rings, pulling me from my thoughts. I glance at the screen—it’s a familiar number. A familiar voice asks, "Is our meeting still on?" For a moment, I hesitate. But then I check the time and realize I won’t make it to where they expect me. "We’ll definitely talk, but later", I reply, putting the phone away. My mind is already elsewhere—focused on the event that will unfold in just an hour. Today, this matters more.

Eldar Khayrullov: The Warmth of Cold Wings

I love watching planes fly by—listening to the sound of their engines, memorizing their silhouettes, trying to guess their route. It’s more than just an interest. Over time, I realized that simply observing wasn’t enough—I wanted to capture these moments, to preserve them. That’s how plane spotting became part of my life, giving me the chance to see something in airplanes that others might overlook. For some, they’re just machines, but to me, they are living beings, each with its own story.

I still remember the first time I stood on the tarmac, just a few meters away from a massive airliner. At that moment, it felt like my heart stopped. Watching the pilots prepare for the flight, the mechanics finishing their final checks, and the aircraft slowly taxiing to the runway—it was an unforgettable experience. Moments like these make you hold your breath because they contain all the magic of aviation.

Rare aircraft have always been my weakness. The moment I hear about the arrival of a unique plane, I’m ready to drop everything just to be there on time. A cargo An-124, a turboprop An-28—I’ve already captured them in my collection. These machines don’t come every day, and missing them would be a real loss. In those moments, I feel the thrill of the hunt—every second counts, and a perfect shot becomes a true trophy. Spotting is a way of life that demands patience, quick reflexes, and the ability to seize a moment that will never repeat itself.

One of my most memorable photo sessions happened in Phuket. The background was incredible—beach, sea, sky, clouds. Every shot was full of color and depth. It was especially exciting to capture planes that don’t come to Uzbekistan—rare models and airlines that don’t operate here. Experiences like these inspire me to keep doing what I love.

But spotting is also full of surprises. Sometimes, you wait for an aircraft, set up your shot, and at the very last moment, the "winds of change" blow, and the plane switches runways. You think you’re ready, but suddenly you have to change locations, find a new angle, and adapt to the situation. Other times, you just don’t make it in time and can only watch as the plane soars into the sky.

This hobby comes with its challenges. In Tashkent, for example, you always have to be on alert, especially near the airport. In other cities, like Phuket, it’s much easier—you can choose any spot, take pictures freely, and no one pays attention to you. Here, things are different—even with permission, you still feel tense, constantly looking around to avoid drawing unnecessary attention.

Still, I’ve been lucky—I’ve never had serious problems with authorities or airport security. Maybe it’s because I don’t shoot as often these days, with most of my time taken up by work. I mostly go to official events where there are no issues with getting permission. Those who shoot from outside the airport fence, however, often run into difficulties.

I’m fortunate that my family understands my passion. To them, it’s just a part of my life, like any other hobby. My friends also get it and even show interest. I run a Telegram channel where I share my photos and publish flight statistics. Of course, the data I collect from Flightradar doesn’t always match official records—airlines log flights from engine startup, while Flightradar only records them from takeoff. But that doesn’t stop me from analyzing trends in aviation, studying routes, and drawing conclusions that can be useful not just for me but for other spotters as well.

In recent years, plane spotting in Uzbekistan has evolved. There are now more official events, and airlines have started inviting us to new route launches and aircraft presentations. When I first started, none of this existed. Now, more and more people are getting into spotting, interest in aviation is growing, and new shooting locations are appearing. Spotter meetups are becoming common, and even airlines are beginning to recognize our community. This not only creates more opportunities for photography but also helps make plane spotting more understood and accepted by the public.

Each new aircraft model today is a fusion of technology, engineering, and passenger comfort. If I had the chance to spend a day in a cockpit, I would choose the 787 Dreamliner. This aircraft incorporates all the latest innovations and has become a symbol of the new era of aviation. Seeing it from the inside would be a truly unique experience.

Looking at modern airliners, I realize that visual aesthetics are just as important as technical specifications. Every airline strives to stand out, creating a recognizable style that stays in the memories of both passengers and spotters. In terms of design, I like that Centrum Air has added more details to their livery. A plain white aircraft looks dull, but their blue accents make it feel more alive.

Aviation, to me, is not just about spotting. I also love the experience of flying itself. When I had the chance to board a test flight, I took it immediately. It was a rare Boeing 757-300, which had never flown in Uzbekistan before. I had always dreamed of flying on such an aircraft, and this flight was a true milestone for me.

Time moves relentlessly fast, especially when you wish a moment could last longer. I glance at my watch and realize I should check my equipment. A memory pops into my mind—I recently bought an extra set of batteries for a friend. His camera seems to have a schedule of its own, always running out of power at the worst possible moment. Today is a special day, and that extra battery will definitely come in handy. In my opinion, spotting isn’t just about the gear—it’s about support. After all, what could be more valuable than sharing a moment with those who understand your passion?

Daniil Shulimov: The People Who Help You Take Off

The most thrilling moment happened in the fall of 2023 when I attended an official spotting event. My friends and I were photographing airliners when suddenly, we heard the "voice" of an Il-76. This massive cargo aircraft, a roaring beast I had long dreamed of capturing, was standing right in front of me. I had never photographed it before, and now there were several of them at once. My heart pounded, my camera was in my hands, and I barely breathed, afraid to miss the moment. I didn't catch it in the air, but on the tarmac, which made the shot even more valuable. The Il-76 is a rarity in Uzbekistan, and this frame became one of the most important in my collection.

But things don’t always go smoothly. Far from it. A spotter wouldn’t be a real spotter if they never took risks or made sacrifices for a great shot. When the President of South Korea visited Tashkent, our whole team decided to capture his plane. The entire airport was under tight security, with guards at every corner. So we went to a remote spot—a deserted hill that offered the perfect view. The road was tough—dust, mud, steep climbs. I fell, got covered in dirt from head to toe, but the shots were worth it. That day, about ten other spotters were shooting alongside me. There was a real sense of team spirit in the air.

Some shots are especially precious to me. My favorite was taken in Almaty, Kazakhstan. It was an An-24 from SCAT Airlines, which only operates in the summer season. I was lucky—I arrived on the exact day it was scheduled to fly. But at that moment, luck seemed fragile—the airport was under lockdown due to the departure of Kazakhstan’s president. The wait was long, but when the restrictions were lifted, the first thing I did was capture the An-24. Even local spotters, who had been shooting for years, hadn't been able to photograph this aircraft. Then came the shot I’ll be telling stories about for years: on the same runway, a Boeing 777 Cargo and a Bombardier DHC-8—known in aviation as the "Dashka"—crossed paths. They were so close that in the photo, it looks like they were "kissing." That moment was the climax of an intense day.

Walking without a camera isn’t the worst rookie mistake. The most common one is incorrect camera settings. If you don’t account for lighting, set the wrong ISO, shutter speed, or aperture, the photo can turn out overexposed or too dark. It’s crucial not to shoot against the sun, or the plane will just be a dark silhouette. I went through this too, but over time, I learned by following the advice of experienced spotters. Now, even when editing photos, details matter—sharpness, contrast, weather conditions. If the sky is gray and the plane is also gray, making the shot stand out can be tricky.

Like any other hobby, spotting is all about support. I’m lucky that my parents understand my passion. My father even bought me my first camera and encouraged me to start spotting. He would say, "Go on, take pictures of planes!" And now, he’s always with me, even if he initially says he won’t go. My mom, on the other hand, worries. Every time she hears that security approached us or that we got questioned, she asks, "Why do you even go there?" But when I show her the photos, she smiles and admits they’re beautiful. My parents even take me on business trips so I can shoot in different countries. That’s how I ended up in Kazakhstan, and soon, I’ll be flying to Bishkek.

I remember my first trip to Kazakhstan—local spotters welcomed me, took me around different locations, and then treated me to a great meal. We also have a tradition of hospitality: if someone visits, we meet them, treat them to plov and samsa, and show them the best spotting locations.

With each passing year, spotting in Uzbekistan is gaining more recognition and support. Security services bother us less, and the airport has started backing us. There’s even talk of creating an official spotting platform. So far, it’s just promises, but progress is visible. Compared to three years ago, the difference is huge.

Of course, spotting isn’t without its challenges. Dealing with airport security can sometimes be a story in itself. Recently, while shooting on a hill with other spotters, the police showed up. They started questioning us, demanding a permit—which, of course, we didn’t have. But it ended unexpectedly: an experienced spotter, Mukhamadrasul Mukhiddinov, found common ground with them, politely explained our passion, and even offered to let them take a few shots with his camera. That’s when their inner child awakened! Ten minutes later, they left us alone with the planes. Maybe if everyone got a chance to "touch" our hobby, misunderstandings would disappear.

I hear four familiar honks outside—it’s my dad, waiting by the entrance. Time to go. Another day, another flight I can’t miss. I don’t know if I’d experience the full range of emotions spotting gives me if it weren’t for my father, always by my side. Let’s go!

Rustam Mannanov: Spotters – A Second Family

The tarmac of Tashkent Airport breathed in the early morning light. The bustle of passengers, the steady hum of engines, and the crews marching toward their planes created a rhythm like a well-coordinated orchestra. But that day, I wasn’t just an observer—I found myself inside this controlled chaos, not as a passenger, but as a photographer. It was my first official spotting event, the first time I was allowed to shoot from within the airport grounds. The excitement had consumed me a day in advance—I didn’t sleep until 3 a.m., replaying the upcoming day in my head, and by six, I was already up, checking my equipment. Back then, I didn’t even own a camera—I had to rent one. The entire day passed without a single moment of rest, but it was worth every second.

That event changed everything. Watching the powerful airliners taxi onto the runway, seeing the crews prepare for departure, the refueling, and the meticulous inspections of every aircraft—it felt like I had entered another world, where even the air itself was saturated with aviation. As I looked around, I knew: this was my place. I lacked experience at the time, but my enthusiasm and eagerness to learn made up for it.

Spotting is about emotions and fleeting moments that can never be recreated. One of my most unique shots was of an airplane crossing the moon. A shot like that requires perfect timing, patience, and a lot of luck. I knew the moment would be brief, but I captured it. Though later, when I looked at the photo, I realized I could have done better. Still, that shot became a milestone for me.

Over the years, I’ve realized one thing: you’re never alone in this passion. We have a strong community where we support each other—sharing information, offering advice, and coordinating photo uploads to international platforms so that more of our work reaches global aviation databases. We even came up with a system to bypass website restrictions on the number of photos per aircraft: we upload them simultaneously. Where before only one or two images would get accepted, now at least five are published. We are a team.

But not everyone welcomes our team. Military personnel stationed in airport towers often call in patrols the moment they see a camera lens, and recently, new "No Photography" signs have appeared on airport fences. Sometimes, we have to stand our ground, proving that we aren’t breaking any laws. We even submitted a collective petition to government agencies, hoping to secure official recognition for spotters. We’re still waiting for a response. Spotting in Uzbekistan is evolving, but not as quickly as we’d like. The official spotting platforms that were promised remain just plans. But despite the challenges, we continue to greet aircraft, share our photos, and tell the world about our country’s skies.

Spending hours talking to airport security isn’t the worst part. In the beginning, my family didn’t understand my passion. My mother was completely against it: "You’re a grown man, you have a job—why do you need this?" But then she realized it wasn’t just a hobby. I started getting invited to special events, airlines requested my photos, and I was even offered a few free flights. The first time I brought home earnings from my photography, her attitude changed. Now, when I head out for a shoot, she just nods—knowing there’s no stopping me anymore. I’m also endlessly grateful to my wife. If we were ever featured on a "Love Is…" gum sticker, it would say: "Love is… charging your spotter’s camera batteries."

I am not alone. When I arrive at a spotting location, check my equipment, and scan the horizon, I know—soon, others just as passionate as I am will show up. People who, despite everything, still look up at the sky with childlike wonder when they see an airplane. Today will be no different.

Any moment now, Sardor, Eldar, Daniil, and the rest of our family will arrive. We are honored guests at this celebration, witnesses, and keepers of aviation history. We connect generations and point toward new routes in the sky. But some will say we’re just oddballs with cameras—and they wouldn’t be wrong.

For now, we’re waiting for the arrival of Centrum Air’s new Airbus A330, and in this moment, it’s not just about a shared passion. We are one team because spotting isn’t just about photography or even airplanes. It’s about the bonds we build, the traditions we strengthen, and the belief in clear skies ahead.