Pamir Mountains.
Mountains without Names. Swimming to Afghanistan.
There are probably more
remote places in the world than Tajikistan, but as “the roof of the world,"
it’s on the list. Tonight I’m in the
Pamirs, gorgeous, remote mountains along the border of Afghanistan, curling
over to the border of China.
+Wakan+Valley+Afghan+(r),+TJ+(l).JPG "River divides Afghanistan (L) from Tajikistan (R)") |
| Afghanistan to L of river, Tajikistan R side |
 |
| Australian Dayna gazes at Fort Ratm |
+Dolunkul++grandpa+&+gson.JPG "Bolunkul grandpa & grandson")
Tajikistan is a mountaineer’s
dream, an anthropologist’s field day, dance/music lover’s find. For three days now I’ve been riding in a Land
Cruiser, following a gravel, pot-holed road through a valley – snow-covered mountains
on each side. A river divides the Tajik
mountains from the Afghan ones. It
amazes me to look just a stone’s throw away and see Afghan journeyers on
camels, women in blue burka, covered
head to foot, and men in white turbans.
I wave to a turbaned man watching his flock of sheep. He waves
back. “My first Afghan friend,” I say to
Dayna, fellow traveler from Australia.
