Tajikistan

The border crossing from Uzbekistan to Tajikistan, was almost a disaster. UK nationals were meant to have a visa. John had one, but alas, I had missed this minor detail. It took about 30 minutes and a few phone calls before they let me in…on the Irish passport, which didn’t require a visa. On the plus side, it did save me $90.

We were met by our guide who was a delightful 24 year old called something unpronounceable. We called her, Nisa. Or it might have been, Niso. Anyway, both worked.

We had an hour to our lunch stop so Nisa/Niso supplied us with an overview of Tajikistan. 93% of the country is covered by mountains and most of the people live in the west. 50% of the country is over 10,000ft. The highest mountain is Ismoil Somoni Peak at 7,495m high which is 24,590ft. One of its previous names was Stalin Peak. In 1962 Nikita Khrushchev renamed it Communist Peak, and it was renamed once again in 1998 to its current title. Flippin’ enormous. In 1929 Tajikistan became a Soviet republic, and in 1991 they gained independence from the Soviet Union. A year later the country was plunged into civil war which lasted for 5 years. 98% of the people identify as Muslim (mostly Sunni). There are other Islamic groups in Tajikistan including the Pamir people who live in the southern mountains. Unlike Sunnis they only pray twice a day, instead of the normal five. They do not observe Ramadan, women don’t have to wear burqas, and men can drink beer. Apparently they look European, too. At one point Nisa referred to her president, Emomali Rahmon, as “Wonderful”. He has been in power since 1994 and cities are adorned with massive billboards of him. He is considered one of the six national heroes of Tajikistan. I can’t imagine we would ever refer to Kier Starmer in the same manner.

Nisa mentioned that the government controls weddings in that there is a limit of 150 guests. What followed was a barrage of wedding/ marriage related questions. It would appear that parents get heavily involved on both sides, and approaches can be made from either side. The family being approached then does quite an extensive background check to see if the suitor is suitable. Nisa’s parents have apparently turned down fifteen invitations without her even meeting her potential husband. If she does end up going on a first date, (which at this stage looks unlikely), the two of them are only allowed to talk, no touching, definitely no kissing, and family members can elect to go along as chaperones if they want to. She seemed perfectly happy, despite never having kissed a boy.

After a cheap lunch (less than $5), we arrived at our hotel which was rather nice. Adjacent to a river and close to some of the highlights of Khujand, Tajikistan’s second biggest city.

We went on a late afternoon tour which was somewhat average – a men only mosque – we’d seem much better, and a market, which again, didn’t excite any of us.

The highlights for me came when I went on a Paddy walking tour and found some attractive gardens.

Next was the fort which was home to a huge building that looked like a mausoleum or a mosque or a madrasah, but was actually a museum…I think. Anyway, it rivalled any building I’d seen thus far. Absolutely magnificent.

On the way back to the hotel I saw this – cruelty to Lada’s

On Saturday morning we were nature bound and the scenery quickly changed as we headed into the mountains. It wasn’t long before we could see snow capped mountains in the distance. It was a long but rewarding journey held up a little by a herd of goats and regular bathroom stops. At one point we went through a 5km tunnel built by the Chinese. Our guides were rather safety conscious during sections of the road which contained switchbacks and sheer drops just a few metres away from the wheels.

We arrived at a mountain lake 7200 ft above sea level and hiked to a waterfall. I’m not sure it would even make the top 50 of waterfalls I’ve seen, but the walk there and back was worth the trek.

From there we walked to a blue/ green lake which was scenic indeed. A few houses were dotted around it, but nothing spectacular. If this had been the Italian Lakes there would be multimillion dollar villas dotted along the entire coastline.

Our hotel was actually a homestay which normally means basic. It was. A farm at the bottom of a valley with more cows than people. It was just what I needed. The accommodation had some merits – a balcony being top of the list. On the downside, I had a strong desire to rearrange the furniture as soon as I entered the room. It was distressing to say the least. Another concern was the bedding. The pillow was like a brick and the duvet nearly crushed me. I figure it’s cold there in winter, after all, it was 7,800 ft above sea level.

The following morning I felt flatter and went for a stroll. Beautiful sunshine, and I took this photo.

On Sunday we left early with a five hour drive to Dushanbe, the capital of Tajikistan. Dushanbe means “Monday” in Persian. We were fortunate enough to pass by the lake again; this time from the other direction. It looked splendid. We had another 5km tunnel – this time built by the Iranians and it was almost completely unlit. It was quite hairy driving through it. Luckily that was the drivers job.

Before arriving in the city we stopped to get the van cleaned. It’s against the law to have a dirty car in Dushanbe. It doubled as a bathroom break and we were treated to a low point in facilities. The extraordinary part of ‘roadside relief’ is that we always had to pay for the privilege. It should have been the other way round. Photo below.

Our hotel was highly acceptable and as far as I could see it deserved all four stars. An hour later we were off to see Hissor Fort. My expectations got the better of me I’m afraid. Nothing special to report. I did get to see a large scale relief model of Tajikistan though, and who doesn’t like one of those? There were some exhibits in the room adjacent, and I have to say that my excitement level for 11th century earthenware pots hasn’t increased over the years.

On Monday there was a half day tour planned, but I wasn’t sure I could take another local guide bewildering me with information. As it turned out, he was the best one (by all accounts), however I went on my own walking tour. I commenced at 6:10 and as you can imagine, the streets were relatively empty. And the temperature was more acceptable. I headed for the Somoni Monument where there seemed to be lots of interesting sights to see.

A little further on was the Independence Monument which had a good view of the Presidential Palace. I tried to get a little closer to the palace, but a guard shooed me away like I was a neighbour’s cat shitting on his lawn. I decided to engage with him in my best Tajik.

The whole area was a feast for the eyes and I concluded that this was my version of bliss. Discovering a new place, warm sunshine, no-one to answer to (other than the guard). I carried on up the main thoroughfare taking photos of anything that looked interesting.

My next target was the Botanical Gardens which cost 50 cents to enter. It wasn’t long before I realised why it was so cheap. It’s not often you pay 50 cents for something, and still don’t think you’ve got value for money. Luckily, I needed a pee so I found an appropriate bush. As you have to “pay to pee” in Tajikistan, maybe I did get my money’s worth after all.

My legs were starting to ache, and don’t even get me started about the chafing, so instead of walking back to hotel like John Wayne, I took a taxi halfway to a bazaar. Sadly it wasn’t open, but below is a picture of it.

Whilst the others were melting in the heat, I had a relaxing afternoon at the hotel after my epic five hour tour. 25,000 steps with the chafing to prove it.

We headed for the airport in the evening for a late night flight to Almaty, Kazakhstan. Our 90 minute flight, with Somon Air, took us from the poorest of the “five stans” to the wealthiest. Dushanbe airport isn’t busy. They have about one flight departure per hour.