So, I haven't written for a long long time. It's just because I'm lazy, but also because there isn't really much to say about the rest of our trip, especially compared to all that happened on the Pamir Highway.
Mike and I spent 3 days in Dushanbe, where there wasn't much to do. It was too hot to have done anything anyways, so we just sat around in some of the many leafy green parks and read books.
We took a shared taxi up to the northern Tajik city of Khojand. It was a tough mountain road to get over, but luckily for visitors to Tajikistan in the future, there is a tunnel being built as we speak by Chinese road crews. Our driver seemed like a good guy, almost too good- he offered to tow two cars up different stages of the mountain pass, so we wasted a lot of time starting and stopping as the rope connecting the car to our car snapped/came untied/who knows. In the end we didn't get the up the mountain, which isn't surprising considering the steepness and muddiness of the road.
We found a great hotel in Khojand- it was a modernish apartment bloc converted into a hotel, which meant we had a bedroom, an enclosed balcony, a living room, toilet, bathroom and a kitchen (all unfurnished but for 2 twin beds, a table, and a TV with no working channels) all for less than 10$ for the 2 of us. It was a needed break since we paid 15$ each in Dushanbe. We didn't do much in Khojand either- it was really really hot. We spent a few hours swimming in the Syr-Darya river, which was full of businessmen stripping down to their underwear and little children cooling off. If we floated all the way down the river, we'd have ended up in the Northern Aral Sea in Kazakhstan! In an internet cafe, we met up with 2 Tajik guys, one who went to school in Prague and spoke good English, one who spoke very very little English, and they wanted to meet up later on to talk. They took us to a park that evening, where there were tons of people riding on Soviet rides, using paddle boats in the river, and generally just having a good time enjoying the evening coolness. We went up in the ferris wheel to see Khojand from above, ate some ice cream, and then Mike and I took a taxi back to the hotel. There are a lot of Soviet things still left in the city- a giant hammer and sickle statue, and a bust of Marx and Lenin on the side of an apartment bloc. There were many streetside cafes, where we spent most of the days just playing cards and drinking cold drinks.
We took a shared taxi to Penjikent, close to the Uzbek border. We stayed in a Lonely Planet-recommended homestay, but the owner of the homestay Nematov had let the "fame" of Lonely Planet get to his head, and he was sort of an ass. Lonely Planet said that it was full board, but he said that food wasn't included, but wouldn't give us a price as to how much meals would be. He said "whatever you think it's worth," which is never a good way to do business in my book. Lonely Planet also said that he arranges good reliable transport, but it seemed like he arranged very overpriced transport. We met up with 2 English girls at the homestay and wanted to arrange a day trip into the Fan Mountains to see a string of very beautiful turquoise lakes. We found our own taxi for much much cheaper than the Nematov had offered. He took us to the first 2 lakes in a string of 7 (the first one was meant to be the most beautiful), and the taxi driver gave us a few hours to walk around. The lakes were full of the bluest water I've ever seen. We wanted to swim, but the water was horrible cold. We had a picnic and walked a bit around the mountains, and then went back to Penjikent.
In the evening, we said goodbye to the English girls, who were heading to Dushanbe, and set out to find and explore ancient Penjikent, the ruins of the old city. A nice man offered to drive us there when we were asking around for directions, and he took us around the old city a little, telling us the history, and even drove us back to the homestay- all for free! It was the first real hospitality we'd seen in a long time, and after the jerk Nematov and a really not nice guy we met in a cafe, we'd started to think that Penjikent was just full of bad eggs. Luckily, it wasn't so. We also met a nice kid who loved speaking English and, though only 18, already worked as a translator for a tourist agency. He had great aspirations of how to improve Penjikent and make it a more international place, which is always good to see in young people in Central Asia.
The next morning, we got a taxi to the Uzbek border. We had planned on another day in Penjikent, but we got such a bad vibe from Nematov that we just wanted to get away. It's only 30 minutes to the Uzbek border, and from there only 40 minutes to Samarkand, so it didn't take long. We didn't have any problems at the border, but I was really worried because I had the bullet I picked up along the Afghan border in my purse and worried that might set off the metal detector. The Uzbek guard saw my jewelry box in the metal detector and I had to get it out from the very bottom of my backpack to show a few silver chains to him. He said I should have declared them on my customs form, and that if he were a jerk he could confiscate them and get me in big big trouble, but luckily for me he was in a good mood and just sent on our way, suggesting we buy a donkey since our bags were so heavy.
We got to Samarkand and immediately got a taxi to Shakhrisabz, Tamerlane's hometown. We checked out the Ak-Saray Palace, built by Tamerlane and at one point was more beautiful than all the sights in Samarkand. Now it's gone except for a few pieces of it, but it was nice to imagine how big the palace once had been. There was also a giant statue of Tamerlane. He had built a crypt for himself also here, but when he died the pass between Samarkand and Shakhrisabz was closed, so his body was buried in Samarkand instead. We spent 3 lazy days resting in cafes and in our homestay. The homestay was the best place I've stayed in Central Asia. The grandfather was wonderfully nice and hospitable, and just all around a super guy. He gave us 2 free meals even though they should have been 6$ each, and always had bottles of water to give to us and even gave me his granddaughter's Uzbek fan when I said I was interested in getting one. Instead of a plastic/wooden fan that you open, it's a wooden stick with a piece of fabric on it. You spin the fabric around on the stick and it creates a great breeze. The homestay also had a functional shower with warmish water (!!! the first GOOD shower since April in Bishkek!!!!) and a nice tapchan (tea bed) too that was usually in the shade. One night after tea and watermelon we even fell asleep under the stars. If you ever want to go somewhere just to relax, Shakhrisabz is the place for you!
We then took a taxi back to Samarkand, where we spent the day walking around and re-seeing all the sights we saw in winter. I'm so glad we saw it in winter, because it was a huge construction site this time around. All the main roads around the center were torn up and all the store fronts were being "beautified," so all the shops were closed. It took ages just to find somewhere selling cold drinks. At midnight we got a train to Nukus, the capital of Karakalpakstan, the westernmost region of Uzbekistan.
The people of Karakalpakstan are not Uzbek but Karakalpak. They speak their own language, which is Turkic, but more similar to Kazakh than to Uzbek. My rudimentary Kyrgyz translates Karakalpakstan as "the land of the black hats," but I'm not sure if that's really what it's supposed to mean. A kalpak is the Kyrgyz national black and white felt hat, but it might have some other meaning too...
The train wagon where our beds were was full of children who had just finished up a summer camp in Tashkent and were headed home to Nukus. All the kids (aged about 8-16) were very interested to talk to us, and one boy who spoke Russian acted as the translator between Mike and me and about 30 Karakalpak kids. They were all orphans, which was so sad since they were all so nice and polite! The Russian speaking kid, Vladimir, looked a lot like Freddie Highmore (Charlie from the new Charlie and the Chocolate Factory movie) and I would have adopted him in a second! He said he had a mother, so I don't know why he lived in an orphanage. All the boys on the train had a hobby of making animals with little folded pieces of silver paper, like gum wrappers, and they showed us some of the things they made. They were amazing! Hundreds and hundreds of little folded silver papers made a giant swan. They gave us a little swan and a snake they'd made, and even though they've fallen apart in my luggage since then, I really hope I can put them back together when I get to Istanbul because they are really pretty. After about 18 hours in the train driving through a very sandy desert for the entire day, we arrived in Nukus.
We found a hotel and spent a bit wandering around the city looking for food. Nukus is definitely nothing special- the only thing Lonely Planet lists is an art museum, which is meant to be the best in Central Asia. Since Mike and I don't like art, that wasn't anything for us. We found a Georgian restaurant and had some pretty good lagman.
The next day, we caught a bus going up to Moynaq, a fishing village that used to be on the shores of the Aral Sea, once one of the world's largest bodies of water. However, because of the Soviet desire to turn Central Asia's deserts into successful cotton producers, the Aral Sea was irrigated much too much, and the lake shrunk, creating one of the world's worst environmental disasters. Now, the sea split into two parts, and the fishing town of Moynaq is now hundreds of kilometers from the water's edge. We were going to see the former shoreline and rusting hulks of fishing boats that are now resting in the middle of the desert. It was terrible to see and hear about what life is now like in Moynaq. Our taxi driver talked about how the economy used to be back when there was water, and the welcome sign at the entrance of the town still has a fish on it. Now it's just a little desert village. We walked up a hill where we could look over where the water used to be. There were 6 fishing boats lined up, and 2 more a bit further away. They used to be located all around the city, but sometime recently they were all brought to this one place, to serve as a memorial (and maybe make it easier for tourists to find them). There were big posterboards showing arial pictures of the sea in the 1960s and the sea now, and articles explaining how the fishing and muskrat industry was great back then and now Moynaq has lost everything. It was definitely a depressing day. We caught an afternoon bus back to Nukus, and the next morning spent some hours getting to Khiva by bus and shared taxi.
I'll write about our time in Khiva, Bukhara, and Tashkent soon. Early tomorrow morning Mike and I are flying to Istanbul! We'll be there a week looking for a job and an apartment, exploring the city, and hopefully swimming a lot, and then we're going to Austria to meet up with my parents for 2 weeks. Yay!
Showing posts with label Tajikistan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tajikistan. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Khorog-Dushanbe
In the morning we wanted some time to just explore Khorog a bit, but Ruslan offered to drive us around and show us things instead. We went to see the first car that ever drove the Pamir Highway, in the 1930s. It was a old Soviet truck, and it had been made into a statue, and after spending 5 days driving on the highway, it's amazing that a car of that kind could make it on the road that even our 4-wheel drive struggled on.
Then we went to the Khorog Botanical Gardens, which definitely weren't worth the 3 somoni entrance fee. There were lots of flower beds with labels in Russian and Latin, but nothing growing. We saw lots of clover, daisies, and some irises, but nothing special. We did get a nice view of the whole city of Khorog, which is quite beautiful and green.
We then stopped at the bazar, where we got some food for the road, and I bought some traditional crocheted Pamiri wool socks. Not like I'll need them for a long long time since we were out of the mountains and getting into regular summer weather, but they'll come in handy sometime in cold weather. Plus they are really pretttty.
We got a flat tire (again), but luckily Vladimir is a mechanic so he got it changed in no time.
Again we spent the whole day driving next to Afghanistan, which was getting busier than it had been. There were more villages and more people out and about with their cows and donkeys. If Osama is hiding anywhere along the Tajik border, he will never be found. There is so much wilderness, lots of mountains, caves, and tiny little villages that could be keeping him safe. Or he could have swum across the river and be living in Tajikistan like a Tajik- no one would ever know.
We spent the night in Kalaikhum, a small village. Our homestay was right on the edge of a river, so we fell asleep to the roar of the water.
The next morning we set off early again, because it was a long long way to Dushanbe. The first 45 kilometers were amazing- this part of the road had been redone by Turkish crews and was flawless- no bumps, 3 lanes, water canals, curbs, avalanche-prevention walls, everything. It was in this stretch that something went wrong in Ruslan's car, and the drivers spent almost 3 hours repairing it. We sat around in the hot sun, reading and waiting for them to be done. Good think Vladimir is a mechanic, otherwise we would have been there forever.
Shortly after the car got fixed, the road disappeared entirely. It was in the worst condition of any stretch of the whole trip, and we bumped around for hours and hours. We turned away from Afghanistan and then were high up in the Tajik mountains on dusty dirty roads
We stopped for dinner in Kulyab, a city along the way, and got ANOTHER flat tire. We got into Dushanbe after dark, and got dropped off at some hotel listed in Lonely Planet. It was $14/pp per night, but it was close to the center and one of the cheapest listed, so we stuck with it.
Our hotel was next to the opera house, and in front of it was a big fountain surrounded by outdoor tables and shashlyk sellers. We spent our first night sitting out with the Swiss couple, enjoying the warm evening and eating unfortunately bad shashlyk. It was the only evening when there wasn't a thunder storm, so we'd chosen a good night.
We spent 4 days in Dushanbe, just wandering around, staying in the shade to avoid the heat, and enjoying what we decided is the most beautiful Central Asian capital city. There wasn't much to see or do, but there are lots of parks, fountains (that were actually turned on) and trees. The next day the Swiss were leaving to spend 2 days at Iskender-Kul, a mountain lake, and then they were flying back to Bishkek to spend a week trekking in Kyrgyzstan. So we said our goodbyes and we were on our own for the first time since we left Kyrgyzstan.
Once we were crossing the main street in a place without a crosswalk, and a policeman was waiting for us on the other side when we got across. He asked us why we hadn't used the crosswalk about 10 meters away, and I said that there hadn't been any cars coming, so we just crossed there. I was sure he was going to ask for our passports and probably a bribe, but he told us that the crosswalk had been built for our safety, so we should have used it. He then asked where we were from, asked if London was the capital of England, and asked if we were enjoying Tajikistan. I said that it was pretty hot, and he pointed down the road and said that there was a river we could swim in to cool off. He then sent us on our way, wishing us good travels. So different from a run-in with a Kyrgyz policeman would have been!
Then we went to the Khorog Botanical Gardens, which definitely weren't worth the 3 somoni entrance fee. There were lots of flower beds with labels in Russian and Latin, but nothing growing. We saw lots of clover, daisies, and some irises, but nothing special. We did get a nice view of the whole city of Khorog, which is quite beautiful and green.
We then stopped at the bazar, where we got some food for the road, and I bought some traditional crocheted Pamiri wool socks. Not like I'll need them for a long long time since we were out of the mountains and getting into regular summer weather, but they'll come in handy sometime in cold weather. Plus they are really pretttty.
We got a flat tire (again), but luckily Vladimir is a mechanic so he got it changed in no time.
Again we spent the whole day driving next to Afghanistan, which was getting busier than it had been. There were more villages and more people out and about with their cows and donkeys. If Osama is hiding anywhere along the Tajik border, he will never be found. There is so much wilderness, lots of mountains, caves, and tiny little villages that could be keeping him safe. Or he could have swum across the river and be living in Tajikistan like a Tajik- no one would ever know.
We spent the night in Kalaikhum, a small village. Our homestay was right on the edge of a river, so we fell asleep to the roar of the water.
The next morning we set off early again, because it was a long long way to Dushanbe. The first 45 kilometers were amazing- this part of the road had been redone by Turkish crews and was flawless- no bumps, 3 lanes, water canals, curbs, avalanche-prevention walls, everything. It was in this stretch that something went wrong in Ruslan's car, and the drivers spent almost 3 hours repairing it. We sat around in the hot sun, reading and waiting for them to be done. Good think Vladimir is a mechanic, otherwise we would have been there forever.
Shortly after the car got fixed, the road disappeared entirely. It was in the worst condition of any stretch of the whole trip, and we bumped around for hours and hours. We turned away from Afghanistan and then were high up in the Tajik mountains on dusty dirty roads
We stopped for dinner in Kulyab, a city along the way, and got ANOTHER flat tire. We got into Dushanbe after dark, and got dropped off at some hotel listed in Lonely Planet. It was $14/pp per night, but it was close to the center and one of the cheapest listed, so we stuck with it.
Our hotel was next to the opera house, and in front of it was a big fountain surrounded by outdoor tables and shashlyk sellers. We spent our first night sitting out with the Swiss couple, enjoying the warm evening and eating unfortunately bad shashlyk. It was the only evening when there wasn't a thunder storm, so we'd chosen a good night.
We spent 4 days in Dushanbe, just wandering around, staying in the shade to avoid the heat, and enjoying what we decided is the most beautiful Central Asian capital city. There wasn't much to see or do, but there are lots of parks, fountains (that were actually turned on) and trees. The next day the Swiss were leaving to spend 2 days at Iskender-Kul, a mountain lake, and then they were flying back to Bishkek to spend a week trekking in Kyrgyzstan. So we said our goodbyes and we were on our own for the first time since we left Kyrgyzstan.
Once we were crossing the main street in a place without a crosswalk, and a policeman was waiting for us on the other side when we got across. He asked us why we hadn't used the crosswalk about 10 meters away, and I said that there hadn't been any cars coming, so we just crossed there. I was sure he was going to ask for our passports and probably a bribe, but he told us that the crosswalk had been built for our safety, so we should have used it. He then asked where we were from, asked if London was the capital of England, and asked if we were enjoying Tajikistan. I said that it was pretty hot, and he pointed down the road and said that there was a river we could swim in to cool off. He then sent us on our way, wishing us good travels. So different from a run-in with a Kyrgyz policeman would have been!
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Langar-Khorog
We left early the next morning for Khorog, the capital of the GBAO region of Tajikistan and GBAO's largest city, with almost 30,000 people. But before we got there, we had a whole day's drive next to Afghanistan to complete.
We drove through the Wakhan Valley, which Tajikistan shares with Afghanistan. We had many great photo opportunites with mountains rising up on either side. We caught a glimpse between the clouds of the Hindu Kush Mountains in Pakistan, but unfortunately it was too cloudy to see much.
We spent most of the hours just staring across the Pyanj River, which had gotten a lot wider by this point, into Afghanistan. There were many villages and many Afghan people on the other side. They looked just like Tajik people on our side, so I don't know what all this talk about Afghans being terrorists is about ;)
The whole trip we were on a paved road that was the best we'd seen in days. The Afghan side had a dirt donkey path the whole length along the river, that in some places got quite scary. We stopped at the scariest part, which was built over a sheer rock face high above the river, which had a very very fast current. There were some parts where footing had been found in the rocks themselves, but there were more than a few places where wooden logs had been used to make a bridge that jutted out from the cliff. There happened to be a man and his donkey about to walk onto it, so we sat down to watch his journey across. He had had a big bag on the donkey's back, but before he got onto the bridge, he took the bag on his own back and led the donkey by a long rope. I'm sure he saw 6 of us sitting across the river, 3 of us with cameras, and it must have made his trip a lot worse... but we couldn't leave, we were just so scared and interested in how/if he would make it to the end. His donkey lost his footing once and I had to look away because I was sure it was the end, but he (very slowly) made it all the way across to solid ground that wasn't hanging over the river. We wanted to give him a round of applause, but feared that it might jinx him or something. I wouldn't have made it even one inch onto that section of the road. His crossing was bad enough, but when we imagined that someone actually had to build it right over the river, and someone had to be the first person to test if the bridges held... that should make it onto someone's list of worst jobs.
We stopped for lunch in Ishkashim, one of the few places where there is an actual bridge to Afghanistan. There are 2 other bridges- in Khorog and in Kalaikhum. Mike and I had thought for some time about getting a visa in Khorog and then going into Afghanistan from Faizabad to Kunduz to Mazar-i-Sharif, and then going north to Termiz in Uzbekistan, but some people I emailed on couchsurfing.com made it sound quite dangerous (plus I knew my dad would have had a heart attack) so we'd decided against it. We met an American in Murgab (he was from Wallingford, CT, and knew people who went to EO Smith) who had been in Afghanistan and absolutely recommended it, he'd had no problems and said it was beautiful, but I still didn't want to risk it.
The American told us there was a way to sort of get into Afghanistan- every other Saturday in Ishkashim, Khorog, and Kalaikhum there was a bazar in Afghanistan, where you could surrender your passport (no need for a visa) at the bridge, cross over, shop, and then come back. He said they had burkas for $5. I was really hoping to go to this bazar, but our taxi driver found out that due to some problems in Afghanistan, all 3 bridges had been closed and the bazars cancelled until further notice. Too bad!
There really wasn't much going on in Ishkashim, so after lunch we headed on our way again. We got stopped at a police checkpoint just as we were leaving the city, and 2 of the cops asked/demanded to hitch a ride with us for about 100 km to another village. You can't really say no to a cop, so we made room for them- one in our car, one in the car with Phillippe and Dominique.
We dropped them off and then turned off the road to Khorog to visit sulphur hot springs. We didn't swim, because the weather was pretty hot and the springs were outdoors, but it was really cool just to look at the giant white cloud-like shape that had been created by all the sulphur. Phillippe went in for a quick swim, and got out smelling like eggs.
We drove through a pretty little village, where some locals flagged us down and talked for a few minutes with our taxi drivers. We turned around and drove the other way for a few minutes, and our driver Vladimir explained that the Afghans were dynamiting some rocks off their road, and last time they'd done it some rocks flew over into the Tajik village, so they wanted our cars to be safe from falling stones. We sat and listened to the explosions, and I posted a video to facebook where you can sort of hear explosions over the sound of the river.
We got into Khorog in the evening, and our driver found us a homestay for $10 a person, with an indoor toilet and a shower, 2 things we'd hadn't seen much of since getting into Tajikistan. Vladimir told us there was an Indian restaurant just up the road, so we went there for dinner. I can honestly said that it was the best food I've had in all of Central Asia. It was great bread, chicken tikka masala, great rice, and RC Cola, which is hugely popular here (even more popular than Coca Cola).
I had a hot shower, and after almost a week of no shower at all, it was the most wonderous feeling! Unfortunately I somehow broke the hot water faucet, so that no one after me could take a shower (sorry Mike!). We had electricity too, so we uploaded all 600 of our pictures onto my computer. It felt good to finally be back into civilization, but also sort of sad that our Pamir adventure was almost over.
We drove through the Wakhan Valley, which Tajikistan shares with Afghanistan. We had many great photo opportunites with mountains rising up on either side. We caught a glimpse between the clouds of the Hindu Kush Mountains in Pakistan, but unfortunately it was too cloudy to see much.
We spent most of the hours just staring across the Pyanj River, which had gotten a lot wider by this point, into Afghanistan. There were many villages and many Afghan people on the other side. They looked just like Tajik people on our side, so I don't know what all this talk about Afghans being terrorists is about ;)
The whole trip we were on a paved road that was the best we'd seen in days. The Afghan side had a dirt donkey path the whole length along the river, that in some places got quite scary. We stopped at the scariest part, which was built over a sheer rock face high above the river, which had a very very fast current. There were some parts where footing had been found in the rocks themselves, but there were more than a few places where wooden logs had been used to make a bridge that jutted out from the cliff. There happened to be a man and his donkey about to walk onto it, so we sat down to watch his journey across. He had had a big bag on the donkey's back, but before he got onto the bridge, he took the bag on his own back and led the donkey by a long rope. I'm sure he saw 6 of us sitting across the river, 3 of us with cameras, and it must have made his trip a lot worse... but we couldn't leave, we were just so scared and interested in how/if he would make it to the end. His donkey lost his footing once and I had to look away because I was sure it was the end, but he (very slowly) made it all the way across to solid ground that wasn't hanging over the river. We wanted to give him a round of applause, but feared that it might jinx him or something. I wouldn't have made it even one inch onto that section of the road. His crossing was bad enough, but when we imagined that someone actually had to build it right over the river, and someone had to be the first person to test if the bridges held... that should make it onto someone's list of worst jobs.
We stopped for lunch in Ishkashim, one of the few places where there is an actual bridge to Afghanistan. There are 2 other bridges- in Khorog and in Kalaikhum. Mike and I had thought for some time about getting a visa in Khorog and then going into Afghanistan from Faizabad to Kunduz to Mazar-i-Sharif, and then going north to Termiz in Uzbekistan, but some people I emailed on couchsurfing.com made it sound quite dangerous (plus I knew my dad would have had a heart attack) so we'd decided against it. We met an American in Murgab (he was from Wallingford, CT, and knew people who went to EO Smith) who had been in Afghanistan and absolutely recommended it, he'd had no problems and said it was beautiful, but I still didn't want to risk it.
The American told us there was a way to sort of get into Afghanistan- every other Saturday in Ishkashim, Khorog, and Kalaikhum there was a bazar in Afghanistan, where you could surrender your passport (no need for a visa) at the bridge, cross over, shop, and then come back. He said they had burkas for $5. I was really hoping to go to this bazar, but our taxi driver found out that due to some problems in Afghanistan, all 3 bridges had been closed and the bazars cancelled until further notice. Too bad!
There really wasn't much going on in Ishkashim, so after lunch we headed on our way again. We got stopped at a police checkpoint just as we were leaving the city, and 2 of the cops asked/demanded to hitch a ride with us for about 100 km to another village. You can't really say no to a cop, so we made room for them- one in our car, one in the car with Phillippe and Dominique.
We dropped them off and then turned off the road to Khorog to visit sulphur hot springs. We didn't swim, because the weather was pretty hot and the springs were outdoors, but it was really cool just to look at the giant white cloud-like shape that had been created by all the sulphur. Phillippe went in for a quick swim, and got out smelling like eggs.
We drove through a pretty little village, where some locals flagged us down and talked for a few minutes with our taxi drivers. We turned around and drove the other way for a few minutes, and our driver Vladimir explained that the Afghans were dynamiting some rocks off their road, and last time they'd done it some rocks flew over into the Tajik village, so they wanted our cars to be safe from falling stones. We sat and listened to the explosions, and I posted a video to facebook where you can sort of hear explosions over the sound of the river.
We got into Khorog in the evening, and our driver found us a homestay for $10 a person, with an indoor toilet and a shower, 2 things we'd hadn't seen much of since getting into Tajikistan. Vladimir told us there was an Indian restaurant just up the road, so we went there for dinner. I can honestly said that it was the best food I've had in all of Central Asia. It was great bread, chicken tikka masala, great rice, and RC Cola, which is hugely popular here (even more popular than Coca Cola).
I had a hot shower, and after almost a week of no shower at all, it was the most wonderous feeling! Unfortunately I somehow broke the hot water faucet, so that no one after me could take a shower (sorry Mike!). We had electricity too, so we uploaded all 600 of our pictures onto my computer. It felt good to finally be back into civilization, but also sort of sad that our Pamir adventure was almost over.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Murgab-Langar
We said goodbye to our new Swedish friends, who were heading back to Osh with Sharshen. We left Murgab at 7:30 am with the Swiss couple, Phillippe and Dominique. We had 2 drivers and 2 Land Cruisers "for safety reasons" since they'd heard that the roads were washed out. It was more just that they both needed to get back to Dushanbe, and wanted their petrol to be free. But oh well, we got a deal anyways.
We were very glad to be leaving Murgab, the worst place on earth. It was also the last part of the country where Kyrgyz people lived, so we'd soon be seeing real Tajiks. As soon as we got out of the village and into the mountains, everything became a winter wonderland. All the mountains were covered in 6 inches of snow, and it was absolutely beautiful being surrounded by white mountains on all sides. There hadn't been snow the day before when our driver, Vladimir, had come through with an Austrian tourist. The weather changes so quickly in the Pamirs that everytime drivers come through it must look different.
We turned off the Pamir Highway, because instead of just going through Tajikistan, we were going the alternate route along the Afghan border. As soon as we turned off, the road went from asphalt to dirt/rocks, and stayed that way almost the whole rest of the trip. The snow disappeared a few miles on, and the landscape was more like a desert. There were sand and rocks everywhere. We stopped by an alpine lake in the "desert," that Phillippe said looked just like Bolivia.
As soon as we turned off, the road went from asphalt to dirt/rocks, and stayed that way almost the whole rest of the trip. We went through a police checkpoint, and then we were at the Afghan border! A small river separated us from Afghanistan, but we could at any moment have waded across. We stopped for lunch on the banks of the river- Mike and I had a cucumber and some chococlate-covered peanuts, Dominique and Phillippe got out their camping stove and heated water for Ramen noodles.
We snaked along the side of mountains on narrow dirt paths... definitely not a "road" you'd want to be on in a rain storm. We had to stop often to let the shepherds pass by with their flocks of goats, sheep, cows, and donkeys. Everywhere we looked was just brown. There were some small tufts of mountain plants, but no trees or bushes...
...until we went around a corner and saw an amazing green oasis of tall trees and fields in front of us! This was the village of Langar, brushed over in Lonely Planet but a place that I would recommend to everyone. We drove down into the valley, on narrow, snaking roads, past small mud houses. Everywhere there were people and children waving and shouting "hello!" Our driver took us to a homestay, in a house especially built for Aga Khan. The Aga Khan is the leader of Ismailism, a branch of Islam. You can read more about the Aga Khan title here and read about the 49th imam and current leader of Ismailism here (he's Swiss!?) He has single-handedly given more than $500 million dollars to the Pamir region (he spent $200 million just to build a branch of The University of Central Asia in Khorog!) It's said that he has supported the people of the Pamirs since 1998. Anyways. In 2007 it was the Golden Jubilee year, his 50th year as leader of the Ismailis, and the house we stayed in was built for him.
We dumped our bags and went for a walk around the village. There were some petroglyphs, but Mike and I had seen enough of them AND it was a steep walk up a dusty mountain, so we waited at the bottom for the Swiss couple. They'd never seen petroglyphs, but said that it wasn't worth the walk. Then we walked around town for hours, just marveling at the friendliness of all the people. There was water everywhere- rivers, creeks, springs, waterfalls. It really felt like an oasis, because everywhere we looked outside the village was just brown. Many people wanted us to take pictures of them, and it was just such a relief to meet really friendly people after 10 months in KG.
The daughter of our homestay took us to the Aga Khan "museum," which is more just like a community center. Ismailis don't have mosques at all- instead, there's just a center where people can go to pray and to socialize. The prayer room is designed in the traditional Pamiri way- there are 5 pillars around the room, which signify the 5 pillars of Islam. We also went to the grave of some famous Ismaili. There was a big stone wall built, covered in Marco Polo Sheep horns, and there were many small ovens that the daughter of our homestay kept sticking her hand into and touching her forehead. There was a smaller enclosed stone wall inside where the man was buried, and around this wall were many many more horns. It was a very peaceful place full of warped trees and lots of green grass.
We went back to our homestay where dinner was included and had plov. We all went to bed quite early, because somehow sitting in a car all day is exhausting.
We were very glad to be leaving Murgab, the worst place on earth. It was also the last part of the country where Kyrgyz people lived, so we'd soon be seeing real Tajiks. As soon as we got out of the village and into the mountains, everything became a winter wonderland. All the mountains were covered in 6 inches of snow, and it was absolutely beautiful being surrounded by white mountains on all sides. There hadn't been snow the day before when our driver, Vladimir, had come through with an Austrian tourist. The weather changes so quickly in the Pamirs that everytime drivers come through it must look different.
We turned off the Pamir Highway, because instead of just going through Tajikistan, we were going the alternate route along the Afghan border. As soon as we turned off, the road went from asphalt to dirt/rocks, and stayed that way almost the whole rest of the trip. The snow disappeared a few miles on, and the landscape was more like a desert. There were sand and rocks everywhere. We stopped by an alpine lake in the "desert," that Phillippe said looked just like Bolivia.
As soon as we turned off, the road went from asphalt to dirt/rocks, and stayed that way almost the whole rest of the trip. We went through a police checkpoint, and then we were at the Afghan border! A small river separated us from Afghanistan, but we could at any moment have waded across. We stopped for lunch on the banks of the river- Mike and I had a cucumber and some chococlate-covered peanuts, Dominique and Phillippe got out their camping stove and heated water for Ramen noodles.
We snaked along the side of mountains on narrow dirt paths... definitely not a "road" you'd want to be on in a rain storm. We had to stop often to let the shepherds pass by with their flocks of goats, sheep, cows, and donkeys. Everywhere we looked was just brown. There were some small tufts of mountain plants, but no trees or bushes...
...until we went around a corner and saw an amazing green oasis of tall trees and fields in front of us! This was the village of Langar, brushed over in Lonely Planet but a place that I would recommend to everyone. We drove down into the valley, on narrow, snaking roads, past small mud houses. Everywhere there were people and children waving and shouting "hello!" Our driver took us to a homestay, in a house especially built for Aga Khan. The Aga Khan is the leader of Ismailism, a branch of Islam. You can read more about the Aga Khan title here and read about the 49th imam and current leader of Ismailism here (he's Swiss!?) He has single-handedly given more than $500 million dollars to the Pamir region (he spent $200 million just to build a branch of The University of Central Asia in Khorog!) It's said that he has supported the people of the Pamirs since 1998. Anyways. In 2007 it was the Golden Jubilee year, his 50th year as leader of the Ismailis, and the house we stayed in was built for him.
We dumped our bags and went for a walk around the village. There were some petroglyphs, but Mike and I had seen enough of them AND it was a steep walk up a dusty mountain, so we waited at the bottom for the Swiss couple. They'd never seen petroglyphs, but said that it wasn't worth the walk. Then we walked around town for hours, just marveling at the friendliness of all the people. There was water everywhere- rivers, creeks, springs, waterfalls. It really felt like an oasis, because everywhere we looked outside the village was just brown. Many people wanted us to take pictures of them, and it was just such a relief to meet really friendly people after 10 months in KG.
The daughter of our homestay took us to the Aga Khan "museum," which is more just like a community center. Ismailis don't have mosques at all- instead, there's just a center where people can go to pray and to socialize. The prayer room is designed in the traditional Pamiri way- there are 5 pillars around the room, which signify the 5 pillars of Islam. We also went to the grave of some famous Ismaili. There was a big stone wall built, covered in Marco Polo Sheep horns, and there were many small ovens that the daughter of our homestay kept sticking her hand into and touching her forehead. There was a smaller enclosed stone wall inside where the man was buried, and around this wall were many many more horns. It was a very peaceful place full of warped trees and lots of green grass.
We went back to our homestay where dinner was included and had plov. We all went to bed quite early, because somehow sitting in a car all day is exhausting.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Osh-Murgab
The Pamir Highway got off to an exciting start. We split the car with 2 great Swedes, Anna and John. She's a diplomat working at the Swedish Embassy in Moscow. Our driver (who Chris recommended) was actually on the Osh Guesthouse coordinators blacklist because he had tried to scam some foreigners he drove out of money. He was the only driver in Osh the day we wanted, so he got the job, but we were warned not to give him any more money than we agreed to.
The morning after one night at Osh Guesthouse I woke up completely covered in bug bites. They still itch horribly today (a week later!) and I think they might have been bed bugs. What a way to start a trip :)
We got the car for $175 from Osh-Murgab, $43 each. We set off around 11 am in a great Russian Uaz Jeep. Just a few miles out of Osh the road completely disappeared, and we were basically off-roading the whole way to Tajikistan. We went over at least 2 million bumps and it's amazing to think that everyday marshrutkas stuffed full of people take the same route. There was some bad weather in the mountains, and we spent most of the trip to the border in clouds and rain.
We got out of Kyrgyzstan alright (the border guard spent 2 months studying at The London School!), but from the Kyrgyz border to the Tajik border there were 20 kilometers of horrible road conditions and bad snow. It was a small muddy road through snow and up high mountain passes. Not something I'd like to do again. There was a house just past the Kyrgyz border crossing, and the people living in No-Man's Land offered us some yak airan (yogurt) which was quite tasty and unique. They had many yaks that we also took pictures of.
We also got into Tajikistan with few problems, but the border guards hadn't seen a diplomatic passport before, so they tried to give the Swedes some problems. Sharshen, our taxi driver, had to pay the guards with about 5 liters of gasoline. But we got across into Tajikistan!
It was getting dark, so we overnighted in a small village called Kara-Kul. It is next to a big frozen lake. In the Pamirs from the border to Murgab, most people are Kyrgyz, so it didn't really feel like we'd left. We basically went straight to bed since the altitude was affecting us, we'd sat in the car all day, and it was late at night. Anna was really affected by the altitude and felt really ill, but I just had a bit of a headache (which might have been due to all the bumps...)
It was freeeeezing cold, but we got a traditional bed of mattresses on the floor, and it was quite cozy.
In the morning, we walked to Lake Kara-Kul, which is big and covered in ice. There were beautiful snowy mountain peaks all around the lake, and we caught a glimpse of Pik Lenin, the tallest mountain in Kyrgyzstan. There were animal skins and Marco Polo sheep horns lying all over the place, which was quite sad to see, considering that they are quite endangered. :(
After breakfast we continued onto Murgab. There were a few more hours of moutain roads, but the weather was clear and bright, and it was great to see all the mountain peaks everywhere. We arrived at lunchtime in Murgab, which is by far the most horrible place I've ever been to. It's a miserable town of about 6000 people, and does have a desert feel. It's dusty, grey, and all the people look very ill. They are also Kyrgyz here, but are much darker than people in Kyrgyzstan because they are much closer to the sun, and their eyes are all red because they either do lots of drugs, even the toddlers, or they don't wear sunglasses. Maybe both, since it is the Opium Highway of drugs from Afghanistan.
Luckily, we didn't spend long in Murgab. After lunch of bread and tea at Sharshen's family's house (that we were ridiculously charged 3$ for), he drove us to Mediyan Valley, where we were to stay in a yurt (finally!) and swim in some hot springs. It was another bumpy ride on a dirt road, but only about 1.5 hours in the car. We stopped off at a house because Sharshen had heard in Osh that the man living there had a tiger. We thought it was bollocks, but he took us around the back of his house and he had a cage with a SNOW LEOPARD in it! He said he'd caught it in the mountains in November when it was a baby, and he was going to give it to the Dushanbe Zoo. Who knows if that will happen. There was a dead marmot in the cage that the leopard hadn't eaten, and he did NOT look happy at all. Sadness. But we got to see the rare snow leopard, in its natural environment!!, sort of. Ben Scott, our London School co-worker, must be green with jealousy that we saw it and he didn't :)
The Mediyan Valley is probably the best place in the Pamirs to live. It's a secluded valley protected from the wind, and there are all sorts of natural springs. There are at least 4 different hot springs with varying temperatures, a river, and cold water springs. They used the hot water for everything- heating the house, cooking, and even heating the yurts! There were 4 radiators in each yurt, which kept them much warmer than regular yurts.
It was cold and rainy in the evening when we arrived, so a bath in hot springs sounded like the perfect activity! The water was 65 degrees Celsius, which seemed impossibly hot. After about 10 minutes of wading up to my ankles, I got used to it enough to get in all the way. It was really relaxing, but still VERY hot, even when I got used to it. But it was great to be in hot water while it was raining in very cold water though the ceiling skylight.
Sleeping in a yurt isn't all it's cracked up to be. Most people say that it's very cold and uncomfortable all night, but here it was too hot. We had a giant duvet, which was so thick it was almost suffocating. We were right next to the radiator, and it felt like we were in an oven. It didn't help that my bug bites were horrible itchy. I spent hours awake, sweating and scratching. But I finally got to sleep in a yurt, which I'd wanted to do all year.
In the morning, we went for a ride with Sharshen, who had to drop some stuff off at the leopard man's house. He took us to see some not-so-amazing petroglyphs, and then we walked most of the way back to the yurts, through a great valley next to a river. We were served Oromo for lunch, and drove back to Murghab in the afternoon. On the way back, we met two Swiss tourists who were heading for a swim in the hot springs. They said they had a car for the next morning going to Langar, along the Afghan border. Mike and I had initially planned on going there, but then since it seemed expensive, we'd decided to get a cab to Khorog, the capital of the GBAO region. But when we heard that they were planning to do just what we wanted, we decided to go with them instead. It was $805 from Murgab all the way to Dushanbe (almost 1200 km), over the course of 4 days. We paid $320 and they paid the rest. So we got from Osh to Dushanbe for just $203 each, which is quite cheap compared to what it seems others pay.
We decided not to eat dinner in our homestay when we got back to Murgab because it was so expensive, so we went out in search of a cafe. Murgab is bleak during the day, but at dusk it was even worse, if that's possible. We found a cheap cafe and had buckwheat and mediocre oromo, and I re-chipped the tooth I'd just gotten fixed in Osh. So much for Kyrgyz dentistry. Only a little piece chipped off and it hasn't gotten worse since, but what a waste of 400 som! After food, we hurried back home quick because there were scary dogs and scary groups of men wandering the dismal streets. We were very glad that it was our first and only night in Murghab.
We set off the next day with the Swiss couple for Langar. I'll update probably tomorrow about all the fun things that happened between Murgab and Dushanbe, where we are now. We'll stay here for probably another 3-4 days. Hopefully we'll find someone we can couchsurf with to save some money. It seems like a really beautiful Central Asian city, so we're looking forward to exploring it.
I've put some pics on facebook, so check those out.
The morning after one night at Osh Guesthouse I woke up completely covered in bug bites. They still itch horribly today (a week later!) and I think they might have been bed bugs. What a way to start a trip :)
We got the car for $175 from Osh-Murgab, $43 each. We set off around 11 am in a great Russian Uaz Jeep. Just a few miles out of Osh the road completely disappeared, and we were basically off-roading the whole way to Tajikistan. We went over at least 2 million bumps and it's amazing to think that everyday marshrutkas stuffed full of people take the same route. There was some bad weather in the mountains, and we spent most of the trip to the border in clouds and rain.
We got out of Kyrgyzstan alright (the border guard spent 2 months studying at The London School!), but from the Kyrgyz border to the Tajik border there were 20 kilometers of horrible road conditions and bad snow. It was a small muddy road through snow and up high mountain passes. Not something I'd like to do again. There was a house just past the Kyrgyz border crossing, and the people living in No-Man's Land offered us some yak airan (yogurt) which was quite tasty and unique. They had many yaks that we also took pictures of.
We also got into Tajikistan with few problems, but the border guards hadn't seen a diplomatic passport before, so they tried to give the Swedes some problems. Sharshen, our taxi driver, had to pay the guards with about 5 liters of gasoline. But we got across into Tajikistan!
It was getting dark, so we overnighted in a small village called Kara-Kul. It is next to a big frozen lake. In the Pamirs from the border to Murgab, most people are Kyrgyz, so it didn't really feel like we'd left. We basically went straight to bed since the altitude was affecting us, we'd sat in the car all day, and it was late at night. Anna was really affected by the altitude and felt really ill, but I just had a bit of a headache (which might have been due to all the bumps...)
It was freeeeezing cold, but we got a traditional bed of mattresses on the floor, and it was quite cozy.
In the morning, we walked to Lake Kara-Kul, which is big and covered in ice. There were beautiful snowy mountain peaks all around the lake, and we caught a glimpse of Pik Lenin, the tallest mountain in Kyrgyzstan. There were animal skins and Marco Polo sheep horns lying all over the place, which was quite sad to see, considering that they are quite endangered. :(
After breakfast we continued onto Murgab. There were a few more hours of moutain roads, but the weather was clear and bright, and it was great to see all the mountain peaks everywhere. We arrived at lunchtime in Murgab, which is by far the most horrible place I've ever been to. It's a miserable town of about 6000 people, and does have a desert feel. It's dusty, grey, and all the people look very ill. They are also Kyrgyz here, but are much darker than people in Kyrgyzstan because they are much closer to the sun, and their eyes are all red because they either do lots of drugs, even the toddlers, or they don't wear sunglasses. Maybe both, since it is the Opium Highway of drugs from Afghanistan.
Luckily, we didn't spend long in Murgab. After lunch of bread and tea at Sharshen's family's house (that we were ridiculously charged 3$ for), he drove us to Mediyan Valley, where we were to stay in a yurt (finally!) and swim in some hot springs. It was another bumpy ride on a dirt road, but only about 1.5 hours in the car. We stopped off at a house because Sharshen had heard in Osh that the man living there had a tiger. We thought it was bollocks, but he took us around the back of his house and he had a cage with a SNOW LEOPARD in it! He said he'd caught it in the mountains in November when it was a baby, and he was going to give it to the Dushanbe Zoo. Who knows if that will happen. There was a dead marmot in the cage that the leopard hadn't eaten, and he did NOT look happy at all. Sadness. But we got to see the rare snow leopard, in its natural environment!!, sort of. Ben Scott, our London School co-worker, must be green with jealousy that we saw it and he didn't :)
The Mediyan Valley is probably the best place in the Pamirs to live. It's a secluded valley protected from the wind, and there are all sorts of natural springs. There are at least 4 different hot springs with varying temperatures, a river, and cold water springs. They used the hot water for everything- heating the house, cooking, and even heating the yurts! There were 4 radiators in each yurt, which kept them much warmer than regular yurts.
It was cold and rainy in the evening when we arrived, so a bath in hot springs sounded like the perfect activity! The water was 65 degrees Celsius, which seemed impossibly hot. After about 10 minutes of wading up to my ankles, I got used to it enough to get in all the way. It was really relaxing, but still VERY hot, even when I got used to it. But it was great to be in hot water while it was raining in very cold water though the ceiling skylight.
Sleeping in a yurt isn't all it's cracked up to be. Most people say that it's very cold and uncomfortable all night, but here it was too hot. We had a giant duvet, which was so thick it was almost suffocating. We were right next to the radiator, and it felt like we were in an oven. It didn't help that my bug bites were horrible itchy. I spent hours awake, sweating and scratching. But I finally got to sleep in a yurt, which I'd wanted to do all year.
In the morning, we went for a ride with Sharshen, who had to drop some stuff off at the leopard man's house. He took us to see some not-so-amazing petroglyphs, and then we walked most of the way back to the yurts, through a great valley next to a river. We were served Oromo for lunch, and drove back to Murghab in the afternoon. On the way back, we met two Swiss tourists who were heading for a swim in the hot springs. They said they had a car for the next morning going to Langar, along the Afghan border. Mike and I had initially planned on going there, but then since it seemed expensive, we'd decided to get a cab to Khorog, the capital of the GBAO region. But when we heard that they were planning to do just what we wanted, we decided to go with them instead. It was $805 from Murgab all the way to Dushanbe (almost 1200 km), over the course of 4 days. We paid $320 and they paid the rest. So we got from Osh to Dushanbe for just $203 each, which is quite cheap compared to what it seems others pay.
We decided not to eat dinner in our homestay when we got back to Murgab because it was so expensive, so we went out in search of a cafe. Murgab is bleak during the day, but at dusk it was even worse, if that's possible. We found a cheap cafe and had buckwheat and mediocre oromo, and I re-chipped the tooth I'd just gotten fixed in Osh. So much for Kyrgyz dentistry. Only a little piece chipped off and it hasn't gotten worse since, but what a waste of 400 som! After food, we hurried back home quick because there were scary dogs and scary groups of men wandering the dismal streets. We were very glad that it was our first and only night in Murghab.
We set off the next day with the Swiss couple for Langar. I'll update probably tomorrow about all the fun things that happened between Murgab and Dushanbe, where we are now. We'll stay here for probably another 3-4 days. Hopefully we'll find someone we can couchsurf with to save some money. It seems like a really beautiful Central Asian city, so we're looking forward to exploring it.
I've put some pics on facebook, so check those out.
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