24th August 2026
Well I now know all about the off-road capabilities of a Toyota Land Cruiser, having spent a solid 12 hours in one with a driver who thought, at times, he was Colin McRae (dated reference I know).
Anyway I was up at half five in the morning to get to the shared taxi car park in Dushanbe before they all left. This meant a second night of curtailed sleep after the decidedly antisocial flight arrival time.
I made it to the car park around six o’clock having somehow found a taxi at a silly time in the morning. That at least meant I didn’t have to carry the damn box again.
We left with a full car at around seven o’clock with me, the driver (who actually did seem like a decent guy despite rally driving instincts), an American-Ukrainian and four Tajiks. Though I wasn’t in the front, I wasn’t in the boot either.
But my word that was a tough journey. We got to the halfway stage at Kalai Kumb in around six hours for lunch (which meant the first plot of the trip). Until that point the roads were pretty good too. Fairly new and largely tarmac-ed.
I only later learnt about the helicopter, belonging to an Afghan insurgent group, that the Taliban had shot down just across the river in Afghanistan. That one was probably for the best if I’m honest.
It was generally quite an interesting drive though as much of it was along the border with Afghanistan. Seeing into that country was a weird experience.
Life seemed pretty normal. Lots of people getting around on motorbikes (the Afghan side wasn’t paved and therefore easy for cars). That said, I couldn’t quite make out if I could see any women though, considering the conditions they’re being forced to live under.
I’d go as far as saying that some of it was stunningly beautiful. Lovely green fields, large houses surrounded by trees and the rushing river below. It had it all – hardly what was shown on the news.
I would love to visit but I’m not sure that day will be particularly soon.
I also realised why we couldn’t win a war over there (twice). At one point, the driver pointed at what seemed to be glistening objects ridiculously high up the precipitous hillside and virtually inaccessible. Turns out these were houses.
Between stuff like that and all the caves, we really didn’t have a hope.
Anyway, the road after Kalai Kumb. Ah, the road after Kalai Kumb…
Put it this way, there were times when I was looking over at the Afghan side in envy at the quality of their roads. On the Tajik side, it wasn’t a road. Certainly not what I would call a road. That said, the Land Cruiser dealt with it brilliantly.
All I was a bit concerned about was the bike which was still in a box strapped to the roof, being bounced about and shaken to pieces.
Finally, we made it to Khorog at around seven o’clock in the evening. I got the bike and.built it immediately – no chance was I carrying it any further.
Good job too as I booked my hotel for the wrong night. Instead I ended up at one further out of town, meaning the bike was useful.
The only issue when I went out for food and supplies (the food was sadly a terrible burger, with nothing else open), the gate to the hostel was locked shut.
After banging on it a bit, I had no choice but to climb the three metre wall. Probably not advisable in flip flops but needs must. The untethered Alsatian dog next door was going mental, which served to focus the mind a bit when climbing close to it.
Ready for the off tomorrow. Finally getting going!
