Distance this Leg 362km
Total Distance 588km

Having only wanted to take a Shalwa Chamise with me from Afghanistan; I also managed to pick up a stomach bug at one of the friendly Kabab shops. Undercooked meat was to blame according to my shadow who also had a dose. I guess this the reason he was conspicously absent as I crossed the desert to the North of Kunduz. He claimed having to do some actual work but from the way I was feeling I thought probably different. So losing energy through all sorts of outlets I struggled through to the Amu Darya (Oxus) River on the border with Tajikistan.


Having a shave in Afghanistan, one of my favourite activites, it narmally comes with a head and shoulder massage as well as some serious cracking of nechk and oddly ears.

After a party in Pul I Kimri (PiK), graciously put on by my host (thanks Doc) I headed out a little later than expected into a sultry morning. PiK sits in a valley and is always a little warm as the fuel fumes, dust and heat get trapped there during the day and rarely is there enough breeze to clear it. I wanted to push through to Kunduz in order to see a couple of friends and make a relatively easy crossing the next morning to the Tajik border. The road itself is not especially hard but the late start and the wind off the northern desert keeping temps down to a summery 42 degrees made it hard enough. 110km for the day was easily possible but I could not help but thinking if I was a little less exuberant in my farewell celebrations I might have arrived in a little better shape.



It is melon season in Central Asia at present and everywhere luscious watermelon, canteloupe, and honeydew is available for next to nothing. However it was the kebab which did the trick, a late in the day snack designed to get me through till dinner has made riding pretty tough for the past three days.

Despite being less than par the next morning I decided to push on to the border the trek across the desert north of Kunduz was flat, boring, sandy and HOT. By 0830 the temperature was above 45 and it did not come down till I was sitting in the shade on the Tajik side of the Amu Darya wondering what the hell was next.

A few thanks, To all in HALO in Afghanistan, thanks for the support; Dr. Nasir and Dr.Din Mohammed your help and friendship over the past year I can only hope to return. And of course to my dear friend Latif who taught me "Shaft Shaft ne Shaftaloo" when I first came to Afghanistan and opened the conversation to all sorts of unusual topics. Often you have treated me like I am a brother, I only hope I can repay the kindness. My experiences in Afghanistan have all been good, even the dodgy ones. If I could choose one word to describe Afghanistan, it would be 'dramatic'; but the people are very friendly and contrary to the media reports the vast majority just want to get on and lead their lives, providing enough for their kin, just like everyone else. It is not yet a tourist destination but Insh Allah in time it has all the ingredients.

So Tajikistan...

Having gone through the relatively painless process of clearing customs, which involved a nice cup of tea and a stern talking too by the female official as I was not married with children yet (the first of many times I would get this); I was suckered in to the shade by my fatigue, illness and the promise of cool mineral water. And there I stayed for the remainder of the afternoon. The small shop had a steady stream of taxi drivers trying to convince me to go with them and a nice lady serving me soup offering me her place to stay, and tutting at me not being married. She indicated that the road to Dushanbe would be very easy as it was all flat. I knew she was unintentionally lying through her Gold capped teeth (all of her teeth). So many of the Ladies here and some of the men have some or all of their teeth capped in gold. Flashy smiles!

I headed out the next day feeling a little better; although this was not helped by the smoking and telephone shouting all night in the room I was sharing with the Taxi Drivers. After the first 20km it was a fairly easy trip through flat, well irrigated farming land. The temp was a (relatively) cool 35 degrees, and with a few melon stops, I reached the Vas river, 100km in to Tajikistan, and set about having some dinner. My first night camping was relatively untroubled. Had a great (not) chat with a guy who seemed to be travelling by foot across Asia but was constantly trying to avoid the law as he had no passport. Then at about 1230 in the morning I was abrubtly awoken by headlights and I started being aggressively interigated about what, who, where and when I was. (He was probably very polite but all questions of these nature at that time of the day, in full beam headlights are aggressive when you are asleep.)I of course had no intelligible answer for these and when I was presented with a badge proclaimiing interior ministry (or keystone cops, who knows?)I gave him my passport and hoped he would go away, or arrest me, or at least turn the lights off. He left eventually after making the international sign for a cut throat and assuring me there was 'nyet problyema'. I spent the rest of the night a little uneasy nonetheless.

He caught up with me the next day at lunch and we established that he is an investigator trying to find out who a fairly dead guy in a photo was. He showed me the various (very macabre and greusome) photo's; and the guy had not died very well. I asked if he thought this would be me he said no no not at all.

Late in the afternoon, having spent most of the day on a mostly gentle, but long climb up a mountain range, I thought I should consider making camp when I came across yet another police post. Most posts ask a few questions, you explain how the visa works, they record the details, point out that their salary is low (at this point I stop understanding anything) and send you on your way. At this post I came in to the hut for tea and watched as truck driver after truck driver came up and shook hands, sliding a little something in to the policemans hand. In one case it was a fat roll of pressed meat. This was all done right in front of me, with no problems,  I assume he was looking for the same and this was his way of asking. Eventually he got bored and I soon discovered the greatest joy of the day. From that post you go down hill all the way to Dushanbe.   

Whilst I am stuck here in Dushanbe I need to get my Kyrgyzstan Visa and my GBAO pass. This will take about a week, I have booked ahead for the GBAO pass and that is sorted but the Kyrgyz visa will take at least 3 days, starting next Tuesday. I have been helped along by the good people at Travel Tajikistan who have been unfailingly polite and very helpful. The registration of my passport with the OVIR seems simpler to do through staying at a registered Hotel. I found mine by asking a drunk policeman and being directed across the street. I am sharing a room with a nice guy who it seems is the local FIFA football referee inspector for childrens football in Tajikistan. We don't talk much but the room is cheap ($17) at the Vakhsh hotel.

While the country is poor and things outside the capital hard to come by it is a relative consumer paradise compared to Kabul. Traffic is light, there are decent shops, good food and the public transport system seems simple and cheap to use. The city is not large and getting around by foot, bike or public transport is pretty simple. For those I know in Kabul it is a great place to come for a weekend away... it has what you need.

Dan

"Airplanes Fly too high, man wasn't meant to fly. feel like I'm gonna die in an airplane one day." -The Cruel Sea: Too Fast For Me