Sunday May 2nd
Got up early, just had time to have a cup of tea and buy bread before we all loaded into our truck – they were quite a number of Europeans, 11 in all, five English, two Australians, Linda and a Norwegian, a Frenchman and a Japanese – all seem very nice.
The road was very bad, full of deep ruts, steep hills and river crossings, but the countryside lovely – rolling hills all a lush green, poppies and wild lavender.
Our first stop was in a village where there was a police post and we all had to get out get off and hand in our police permissions – the French guy didn’t have one, but because they didn’t match the permissions with us and passports, he managed to walk out with the first two who were through and as we didn’t need them again, he was in luck.
At lunchtime we stopped an even smaller village, at a chaikhana where you could have meat and stuff, but we only had tea especially since my stomach was still bad.
At this stage my pants split with all the clambering in and out of the truck – all the way round the back, and back of my leg and made a really big gap [these were my only trousers, an old pair of jeans I had bought at Oxfam; my other attire was a self-made maxi skirt, from Nigerian indigo tie-dye and an Oxfam jumper, one of Dad’s old jumpers, some tee shirts, three pairs of pants and two bras!], but I managed to cover it with the jumpers. The driver had a cassette of old Beatles’ songs and we drove out of Herat to Yellow Submarine and had other songs a lot of the way.
On, on we went until we stopped at about 10 pm by a hut at the edge of the village and sat on the rug spread outside. At last tea was produced as well as freshly cooked hard, soft-boiled eggs and, for those brave enough, chicken soup and meat (certainly not for me). I stumbled off in the dark to find a suitable ditch and found a dried-up river which I shared with a large frog.
We arrived at Bala Morghab hub at about 2 am, having had to get out several more times and walk the dangerous bits: some parts were vertical paths as a shortcut, but it was very steep for the truck. The five girls were allowed to stay in as it got later and darker. We even went up as far as the snow which we could touch on either side of the truck – it was freezing cold but the view was spectacular once we cross the path pass.
We pulled up to a chaikhana, where there were many recumbant figures, so we decided to join them – although there was a hotel somewhere, at 50 Afghani per person for three hours sleep it didn’t seem worth it. So we all unrolled our stuff and tucked up for the night, as did the others, when we aroused by hurricane lamps, a lot of noise and two policeman who kicked us all vigorously and started to pull out our stuff and our beds apart. As they were getting really quite nasty, we decided we had better comply with authority and go to the hotel as they wished. We camped out among the flowerbeds and furrows [behind a hedge in a field as I recall] – not comfortable and very cold and damp. Chris and Jonathan made a fire which was lovely to get up to, cold and damp.
Monday May 3rd
The trouble really started when we refused to be taken advantage of by a wheedling Afghani who wanted 10 Afghans each – they didn’t even give us tea in the morning. Big arguments ensued and after half an hour or so we were allowed to leave and thought all was well. We returned to the chaikhana of the previous night and had tea and bread (my stomach still wasn’t behaving). We all got back in the truck when we noticed that there was quite a commotion around us. We were then told that we had to go to the police station as the hotel people had complained to the Police.
We were driven in the truck and asked to enter a decrepit old building surrounded by a lush garden. It seemed the whole town knew of our predicament and had turned out to see the fun. We hung about for ages and eventually repaired into the garden.
At last we were summoned into the chief’s office and after big explanations from both sides and lengthy telephone calls we were set free and told that we were guests in Afghanistan and he (the chief) apologised for the behaviour of his country. He was a charming man and spoke excellent English.
Finally we were off and went through the most beautiful countryside of all – tiny closed valleys covered in rich green grass, interspersed with brilliant scarlet poppies and purple flowers. Nomadic tents, sheep, goats and camels flourished. For a while we were pursued by five turbaned riders on magnificent steeds, who tried to race the truck. I managed to cine them as they galloped by for the last time.
There were two more stretches where we had to walk but very enjoyable amongst the beautiful flowers. We lunched in a sizey village – I tried yoghurt with my tea and bread and the others had appetising meat dishes. The road improved after this town and we went quite well (apart from a puncture and a hot sit down in the shade while it was repaired).
We arrived in Maimana at about 8:30 pm and were taken to the only hotel here, where we could camp on the sofas in the enormous lounge. Omelettes and bread and tea were available and nice bathrooms with real tubs! We and Sue and Cheryl left our water bottles on the truck but our friendly policeman said that he would get them (complete with new watch, ring and recorder); he insisted on taping us singing ‘She’ll be coming round the mountain when she comes’ and replaying it at every auspicious moment.
Tuesday 4th May
We slept very well on the couches in the hotel state room. It was very hot when we got up and we set off in search of breakfast – not fruitful – so we returned to fried eggs, bread, butter (goats) and jam at the hotel. Afterwards we all set off for the police station, where we were greeted by our friend of the night before who was full of useful information. He got the water bottles with no trouble and then we proceeded to the bazaars, where we saw beautiful bits of embroidery on silk and lots of carpets. [Maimana famous for Afghan carpets].
We bumped into our truck driver who took J and I off to see jewellery but it wasn’t good – all new and tasteless. He and a friend treated us (the others had turned up by then) to chai and then we retired to bed. After a considerable time, when the heat of the day was passed, we, starving, ventured out for kebabs (my tummy now much better). In the evening we braved the cinema set like a citadel on a hill in the centre of the town. One and a half hours of cinema was about all I could take – the film being rather dull by usual Indian standards.
Wednesday 5th May
We slept in one room, rather a squash, and got up at six. We got tea, bread, butter and jam for breakfast and the truck arrived at 6:45 (ordered through our friendly policeman). We had two seats near the back as it still had its cover on, though we got him to take it off later. The bus boy a real moron, always picking on someone and he and Chris were at daggers all the way. Chris is very funny – he and the old man sitting on our feet (the truck was overloaded as usual) had constant elbow fights. The old man was a real pain too trying to get all my possessions (ring, sunglasses) as baksheesh!
Countryside began beautifully, small close valleys, lush grass, poppies – we had a walk too which was nice – up and down a steep hill, surrounded by poppies and the purple flowers, with the black tents in sight. We saw many nomadic camps with sheep, goats, camels, donkeys and horses – many young of all these animals, terribly sweet and many, very newly-born and fluffy. We even saw a real Afghan hound – the only one so far.
The countryside soon gave way to flatter more deserty and scrubby stuff, much less populous. We saw a very nasty accident (truck like ours overturned) in which two people had been killed. Made us apprehensive, especially as they treated it all as a joke.
Eventually we arrived in Shibarghan, where we stopped for lunch and where the asphalt started – hooray, hooray – and past Balkh, wonderful fortifications, walled village with turrets. Further on passed a devastated town, obviously the old Balkh.
Mazar a bit of a disappointment. We were discovered by the manager of the Balkh Nights Hotel, an extraordinary new place with garden (central), two stories, patios and balconies, clean kilim in our room even. Found an amazing eating house on platforms, covered with carpets – delicious pilau filled with raisins and onions, meat and all sorts of goodies. Sitting next to us was an extraordinary hunchback dwarf, who turned to us and asked where we were from. When he learned we came from England, he said ‘James Callaghan’ and ‘Anthony Crossland’ and ‘Wilson finish, Edward Heath finish, Nixon finish, Gerald Ford’ – extraordinary. Quite amazing he was so gleeful, especially considering his handicap.
Vicky's Big Adventure 