Tajikistan - The Wakhan Valley
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- 11 min read
Day 10
We left the homestay at lunchtime, filled up with hopefully decent clean diesel, and set off on the road towards the Wakhan Valley. As soon as we left Khorog the road deteriorated quickly.
After about 40km we took a short diversion off the main road to visit the Garam Chasma hot springs. The complex has separate bathing pools for men and women. The springs have been active for thousands of years, and have built up white and cream coloured travertine terraces from the mineral deposits, like a small scale of what we saw at Pumukkale in Turkey.
It didn’t look like it was going to be a lux experience. Colin went off to the outdoor pool with the terraces, while I was pointed to a rusty door which led into a dingy small square indoor pool. There were just 3 other women in it, but by the time I had stripped off (naked bathing only) a group of young kids had got in. The water was very hot and it didn’t feel nice sitting on the grainy bottom of the pool. The kids started to try to swim lengths which the pool wasn’t big enough for, and although their mother did seem to be telling them not to splash it wasn’t relaxing. When the mother started pushing a small boy, who definitely had the look that he was about to pee, I made a hasty retreat. Colin said, while his pool had been nicer, most of the locals in it had skin conditions (white patches) which had been a bit off putting.
We drove a few kms back down the valley and found a very nice parking spot by the river where we enjoyed a peaceful night.
Day 11
We continued our way south on the main highway which still hugged the river. Armin had told us that he was parked up about 10kms before Ishkashem where the Afghan market is held.
We found him at a lovely spot across the road from the river and near a few houses. The locals were back and forward filling buckets and water containers. Colin joined them and collected a few buckets to top up Lolly’s tank. One of the ladies kindly gave us a bowl of fresh Kefir.
A passing Polish motorcyclist pulled in to say hello. He seemed very pleased to see other travellers, but was continuing on to Langar further down the valley this day.
Day 12
We drove to the Afghan market which is based on an island in the middle of the river. It is not a large or special market, but we just liked the idea of being able to say we’ve been in Afghanistan no man’s land.
We were allowed through the gate onto the bridge that leads to the market, but then the Army stopped us and said we can’t come any further. Nothing ventured nothing gained as they say.
We continued on, this being the starting point for the Wakhan Valley route, with Afghanistan remaining just a stones throw across the river. With the snow-capped Hindu Kush mountains which stretch into Pakistan as the backdrop and many historic sites to visit we were excited for what lay ahead.
The first such site we came to was the Qahqaha Fortress. The site dates back to the 2nd century BC, but all that remains is a series of mud mounds. There were some signs of restoration work going on, but it was more of a short stop to take photos of the surrounding scenery.
Not far from here there was a small museum showing the layout and decoration of a traditional Pamiri house which made a nice stop.
We had another brief stop to look at a Pamiri shrine that was right next to the road. Its whitewashed walls were topped with goats horns and inside piles of stones were topped with Marco Polo sheep horns. The shrine honours the patron saint of hot springs.
We ended the day turning off the main road to climb steeply up to the Yamchun Fortress. It is in a breathtaking position perched over the Panj river and looking at the Afghan mountains. Much restoration work to the fort has been carried out in recent years, and they have done a fantastic job.
Just another 2 kms on from here on an ever narrower road are the Bibi Fatima hot springs. There is a nice cave pool and a plain square pool with the sex allowed in each pool being rotated every hour or so. When we arrived there, the queue for the ladies session was large, with lots of kids again. After my experience at the hot springs two days ago I thought I’d give it a miss, while Colin and Armin went into the men’s pool. However, a tourist we’d met at the fortress said the ladies were in the cave-pool and he showed me a photo he’d managed to take before the men got kicked out. It did look much nicer than I’d expected so I had a change of heart. It was a much nicer experience sitting in a natural cavern with hot water flowing down. Even the screaming kids who obviously weren’t keen on the hot water didn’t spoil it entirely.
We had spotted a great spot to park for the night about 2km before the fortress. It was a rare piece of level ground with fantastic views. Colin went into the neighbouring house to check we were OK to park here, and the lady said no problem, but on his way out the husband appeared with his mother, who apparently owns all the land, and he asked for money. Colin knocked him down a bit as we really didn’t want to have to drive back down to the main road at this time of the evening. It was a cool breezy evening so we invited Armin in for dinner and beer.
Day 13
We zigzagged our way back down to the main road.
We didn’t have to go far to our first stop at Yamg village where there is a solar calendar – basically a rock with a hole in it. A series of these stones would be positioned so that when the sun aligned with them it would mark the start of the spring equinox. The calendar was created by Muborak Qadam Wakhini who was a self-taught scholar, poet , musician, philosopher and astronomer (quite a CV). He was known as the ‘Sufi sage of the Pamir’. He lived between 1839 and 1903 and his home has been preserved as a small museum next to the stone. The charismatic museum curator spoke just enough English to show us the exhibits in the museum including musical instruments, clothing (hence our silly hats), and exhibits on local culture and history. He also gave us a performance of playing the Tajik rabab (a six string lute) which Colin had demonstrated how not to play first.
After filling up with diesel with an audience, we came to the village of Vrang, where we stopped to visit a Buddhist Stupa. The stupa is thought to date back to around the 4th to 7th centuries AD when Buddhism had flourished on the Silk Road. We came into the village at the wrong place and the local kids pointed us up a very steep slippery slope. I bowed out half way up and left it to Colin and Armin to take the photos of the scenic views. There wasn’t much left to see of the Buddhist complex.
We continued on the gravel road looking for somewhere to get a drink and a snack, when suddenly smoke wafted up in front of us. We pulled over and were horrified to see our pink coolant pouring all over the road. When Colin opened the bonnet everything was covered in it. Everything was too hot to touch, so we waited half an hour before Colin and Armin could start ascertaining what had caused it. Initial worries were we had a hole in the radiator or worse had blown a gasket. Eventually Colin found a large slit in the coolant pipe. We were on the edges of a village and had been attracting a lot of attention from the kids. We asked if there was a mechanic in the village, and one of them made a call, and as if by magic a random guy appeared who assured us he was a mechanic. He started having a prod around, and said he could fix our coolant pipe by inserting a metal tube in it. It would seem the tube had become a bit slack and our fan had sliced through it. We had to move Lolly to the guys workshop a.k.a a dusty side street. We then realised that he had no tools, so Colin had to get all our tools out and watch every kid (we still had a large audience) pick them up and move things to add to the chaos and entertainment.
Eventually after about 2 hours, everything was put back together, we paid the guy 150 somoni (£12.50) and gave one of his little helpers a small amount. We were relieved to set off again, thankful that the locals know how to fix things with little resources.
We had only gone a few kms when Colin said Lolly had lost all power. We were on a narrow road, and Colin's attempts to get Lolly going again failed. There was alarmingly black smoke coming out from under the bonnet. We were in the middle of nowhere now and were at a loss what to do. Armin kindly offered to run me the 15km to Langar, the village where we planned to stop the night. I had read there was a homestay where they speak some English and there was a mechanic nearby, Colin stayed with Lolly and tried to lay out some stone markers to keep vehicles away of Lolly who was precariously parked on the edge of the road.
At the homestay I explained our issue, and the owner got on the phone to a mechanic. He wanted Armin to run me, him and his son in law to the next village to meet the mechanic, but when Armin pointed out he has only one passenger seat, we had to go to his neighbours to get him to give us a lift in his ancient Russian vehicle. When we reached the next village, we met the mechanic who said he was confident he would be able to get Lolly running again so we could bring her back to the homestay where he would come the next day to do some more checks. We all jumped in his car and headed to where Colin and Lolly were stranded. Colin was confused who the motley crew were I’d turned up with – the mechanic, his young son, the owner of the homestay and his son in law.
It was now cold and very windy, so everyone got back in the mechanics car, while the mechanic and Colin looked at why Lolly had no power. The mechanic soon concluded that our catalytic converter was blocked and, with the high altitude, not enough air was passing through the engine. He seemed to think that if he disconnected the catalytic converter then we should get enough power to drive. Unfortunately that cunning plan didn’t work, and as the light was fading now he said we’d have to leave her where she was overnight and come back in the morning to continue. We were obviously nervous about this – it would very easy for a passing vehicle to clip her. She was also right under a military complex and they do not take kindly to vehicles parking near them.
The mechanic took us back to the homestay and agreed he’d pick us up at 8 a.m. the following morning. Armin had made himself comfortable having had a shower and being given dinner. He is the only person we know who actually likes plov. The homestay was very homely, with the owners family and grandchildren also living there or visiting. We managed to eat our bowls of plov washed down with green tea, had showers and went to bed full of worry about whether we would be able to get Lolly running again without having to transport her back somewhere with more facilities.
Day 14
We made sure we were ready for the mechanic having had an early breakfast. By 9 a.m. there was still no sign of him. The owner had gone away for the day, and we asked one of his daughters to contact him to chase the mechanic. She told us he should be on his way.
We waved Armin off, who was going to continue on up the Khargush Pass back to the main Pamir Highway. 10 a.m. came and went - we were now feeling even more stressed and cheesed off to say the least. It was eventually 11 a.m when he rocked up - his only comment was that his key fob for his car wasn't working. We had to bite our tongues - he was our only chance of getting out of this mess today.
He drove us to his house in the next village and said we need to tow Lolly back here so that he can look at her properly. He had a guy with a Nissan 4x4 lined up. This guy wanted to charge us 500 somini which we told him was a joke. We counter-offered 50 somoni and told him we are not dumb tourists. We were then amused when the mechanic asked if Lolly weighed one tonne - we pointed out that she is 5.5 tonnes (had he not noticed that the evening before?), so he concluded that he would need to tow us in his tipper truck. It was nearly midday by now and we hadn't even set off to collect her. Things weren't boding well.
We jumped in his tipper truck with another guy (we think an assistant mechanic) and were mightily relieved to see Lolly parked up where we had left her. The first tow rope they tried snapped, so they ended up using our winch as the tow rope. Colin asked me to go with the mechanic who was driving his tipper truck to make sure he took it steady as without the engine running Colin had no brakes!
To be fair the mechanic did drive very carefully, and put on his hazards to let Colin know when there was an obstacle in the road. It was a very rough, lumpy, windy stretch of road.
The mechanics 'workshop'turned out to be a space under a tree in the village.
When we parked up the mechanic disappeared. Colin noticed our winch was trashed due to the way they had attached it to the tipper truck - not a great start. We assumed they had gone to get their tools, but when they returned they said they had none, so out came our tools again. An ever increasing band of men and kids joined the audience.
They concluded that they needed to remove the exhaust with the catalytic converter in, and clean it to allow the waste gases to flow through. Colin said he could understand the theory of it and it made sense. His worry was their lack of proper tools. (The little white heap of a Lada was the 2nd mechanics car). After another 2 hours they had been unable to unbolt the exhaust, as the old bolts were completely seized up. There was a lot of bashing and hammering going on. I couldn't bear to watch and busied myself in Lolly. Everytime I stuck my head out, Colin was looking more stressed and was shaking his head in disbelief at the Heath Robinson work going on. The guys would disappear and come back with borrowed drills, blow torches and hammers and were knocking the hell out of everything. When they finally got the exhaust off, they attacked the catalytic converter with a jack hammer (their version of cleaning!) We could see ash falling out that had been blocking the airways. We could only pray the result of their bashing would get us back up and running, but they still had to fix everything back together. With so many people watching throughout the afternoon, Colin had been trying to put screws and bolts that were removed safely in order to ensure they got put back correctly, but everytime he turned around, someone would be walking off with something and putting it down somewhere else.
The light was fading as they finished up. To be fair, although their organisation and approach had been chaotic, we couldn't fault them for their effort. The engine fired up and we all breathed a huge sigh of relief. It was too late to take Lolly for a spin now, so we said we'd sleep in her where she was parked overnight, then take her for a spin in the morning, then all being well, we'd call in at his house to settle up. As the guys headed off, they knocked on our door and handed us a bag of fresh fruit and vegetables - a nice gesture.
What a day!
Poor Lolly! :(