In the last week of June 2005 we set
off for another expedition. The two of us, our Cinquecento, and Asia - once
again. This time our aim was Afghanistan.
Many people asked the question "Why?" -
why go to a country tormented by war for the last 23 years? Well, some of you
might find it amusing, others will think that we?re mental or crazy, but to us
the answer is simple. We can't get self-satisfaction in the arrogant world
we're a part of - the reality of high technology but low quality of life, full
of egoism and marked by struggle for money and power.
Setting out on our journey, we were
sure that nothing could stop us from getting to Afghanistan. The "helpfulness"
of Polish authorities abroad, however, quickly forced us to verify our
optimistic way of thinking.
The travel through Slovakia and
Hungary, which we know very well from our previous expeditions, went along
smoothly and in the late afternoon we arrived at the Romanian border. The
entrance formalities were short and simple, so after 20 minutes we entered
Romania. We headed towards the Pietrosul Mountain (1791 meters above sea
level). We went past the towns of Cluj Napoca and Bisrita, where we were
surprised by the wealth of gypsies' houses. They were beautiful like palaces,
and the roof makers must have been real experts in their field. In Vatra Dornei
we turned into a mountain road at the foot of the Pietrosul Mountain, planning
to get to the Izorul Montelui Lake. Unfortunately, it was already dark, and
after bumping into several road holes we decided to spend the night in the car.
The weather got worse the next morning,
so we abandoned the idea of climbing to the top of Pietrosul. A bath in the
lake was not advisable either, so we moved ahead planning to travel along the
"Transfogarasz" route. The road surface there is excellent, and the
views are breathtaking. It was the middle of June, but on the mountain pass
near Balea Cascada (2300 metres above the sea level) there was lots of snow and
snowboarders:). The temperature at the foot of Fogarasza was 28°C, on the pass
barely 10°C.
The tunnel beneath the pass was closed,
so we didn?t manage to drive through the whole length of the route, but the
number of serpentines and differences in altitude were impressive anyway. We
spent the night at a stream at the foot of Fogarasza ridge , near the peaks of
Moldovanu (2544 meters above sea level) and Negoiu (2535 meters). We were
woken up by a herd of sheep, stubbornly nibbling at our tent.
Late in the afternoon we packed up and
went on our way towards the Bulgarian border. After paying the environmental
fare and the road tax we had our passports stamped and we were ready to move
along. We crossed the border in Vama Veche, planning to cross Bulgaria along
the seaside. Bearing in mind that places like Sunny Coast or Golden Sands are
congested with tourists, we chose to spend the night in Tjulmenovo, a small
village so far free from tourists. We put up our tent on a high cliff. As
there was no beach near our campsite, we drove to Rusałka, where we had some
rest on the coast of a picturesque bay, apparently not discovered by mass
tourism. Out of pure curiosity we decided to go to the Golden Sands (Swiaty
Vlas) in the afternoon. What we saw there exceeded our expectations. Hotels
everywhere, mainly luxurious, swimming pools, cleaned beaches and crowds of
tourists basking in the sun. On the third day of our stay in Bulgaria, tired of
omnipresent commerce, we drove towards the Turkish border in Malko Tarnovo.
The border seemed abandoned and
forgotten ?there were hardly no tourists, the road was in poor condition, and
somebody had clearly practised shooting on the road signs. Together with the
surrounding forest it made us a bit anxious. The formalities, however, were
sheer pleasure ? 30$ for two monthly visas, customs documents for our car and
on we went. We also met there two Frenchmen riding motorcycles from London to
Hong-kong. We?re still wondering if they made it, as one of them had damaged
his backbone in an accident in Romania.
The smooth and wide road on the Turkish
side brought us quickly to Kirkarelli. We then headed towards the Marmar Bay.
The mass tourism there is totally overwhelming ? you couldn't fit a finger
between the hotels from Terkidag to Stambul. . There are crowds of people in
camping sites, conditions are rather poor as for 15$ a night. After a moment of
consideration, we decided to make for the Black Sea in order to pass round the
military zones and firing grounds. We pitched our tent in the town of Yenikoy,
literally surrounded by garbage.
The next day we went to the renown
city of Istanbul. The traffic in the city was overwhelming, which made it
difficult not to lose our way. If you don't know where the HAGIA SOFIA is, you
don't have much chance to get there. We, however, were helped by a friendly
stranger and got to the Sofia and the Blue Mosque without problems. The area
was full of noisy tourists and carpet merchants. We visited the famous Golden
Bazaar, but apparently only its name remained of its former character. The
inside was full of Western tourist, and the shopping stalls transformed into
modern, air-conditioned boutiques.
Of course, we did want to see Troy. So
much have we read about it... Myths, legends and movies gave us an amazing
impression of the place, so our expectations were rather high. It took us 3
hours to drive though Bursa due to terrible traffic jams caused by road
modernisation. We reached Troy in the evening and slept on a kind of stubble
field, but we managed to rest quite well. In the morning we packed up our
things and went to see Troy, hoping to experience something great and unique.
The entrance fee for two persons and a car was 24 YKR (about 15$).
To be honest, the price was rather too
high for what we'd seen. All that remained of Troy is a couple of stones
scattered across a field and the ruins of an amphitheatre. To cut the long
story short, it?s not worth it. It?s better to have a decent dinner.
We planned our further route. We
decided to see the western part of Iran and the Persian Gulf, and then move on
to Pakistan, which was to be the last stage of our expedition before reaching
Afghanistan. We calculated the distance, and since it wasn't very terrifying
(14 000km) we decided to travel around Pakistan. Happy with our travel route we
made for Peramon (Bergama). The road from Bahramkale to Avaycik leads through
mountains, but it?s smooth and pleasant to drive. In Bergama we spent the night
in the car, as it later turned out in a rubble dumping ground ? but under the
only tree in the area. All of that because we arrived at the gates of Asklepion
at 1.50 a.m.
We spent Sunday looking for a currency
bureau. We managed to find PTT, which is Turkish post office. They sometimes
exchange currencies, charging a provision of 2 to 5 percent. We managed to
exchange our money without having to pay the provision.
On our way to Efez we passed through
the town of Selcuk ? a bit sleepy, but visibly liked by storks. There are
ancient columns standing in the centre of the city, and each of them is crowned
with a stork?s nest. In Efez we saw the ancient city and the ¼ mile car
races, which were more interesting.
Our next stop was to be Pamukkale, and
we meant it to be the last "official" place we were to visit on our way. We
reached Pamukkale at 10 a.m. and that was good, as there weren?t many tourists.
There?s not much left of the famous natural bathing terraces, unfortunately.
The Turkish are trying to trick the tourists and build some concrete terraces.
The water doesn't squirt naturally either, it's pumped by special pumps. It's
warm, though, as it comes from hot springs. If you manage to find some space,
you can take a bath in an exotic garden where drinks and snacks are served to
the guests ? it?s a swimming pool surrounded by lush vegetation.
In the afternoon we set out to Ankara
in order to get the visas to Iran and Pakistan. Unwilling to sleep in the city,
we found a nice place to camp near the capital. In Ciubukbel we exchanged our
money so that we could get the visas - an interesting thing about the clerks in
banks and offices are allowed to smoke while servicing their clients, while the
former are forbidden to do so.
In Ankara we went to the Pakistan
Embassy, where we learned that a monthly visa cost 69 YKR. We also needed a
recommendation from the Polish Embassy. It was similar with the visa to Iran,
with the difference that a seven days? transit visa cost 37 euro ? tourist?s
visa is available only after two weeks of waiting.
We had to visit the Polish Embassy to
get the recommendations. We were allowed to enter its area by car, and we were
serviced with absolute helpfulness and professionalism. The consul is a very
nice and helpful man, who handed us the necessary documents after five minutes.
Being a traveller by heart, he sports great knowledge of Turkey. He said we
could turn to him again in case of any problems. Fortunately, there were no
problems with obtaining the visas in the embassies of Iran and Pakistan. When
asked about the car, the clerks said they didn?t see any need for additional
papers. Convinced they were right, we left Ankara in good moods and with fresh
visas in our passports.
On our way to Iran we passed by many
beautiful lakes, surrounded by protection zones. The water was crystal clear,
but bathing strictly forbidden. Of course we couldn?t fight the temptation and
got some relief in the sweet water in spite of the prohibition a couple of
times.
The last night we spent in Turkey was
at the foot of Agra Baga Mountain (5165 meters above sea level). Turkey there
is totally different from that of hotels and mass tourism; villagers struggle
with poverty, people make their fuel from manure. Nobody heard about benefits
from tourism there.
On the Turkish side of the border a man
came up to us and asked about our passports. We immediately wondered who he was
- he certainly wasn't a customs officer, as he was dressed in shorts and a polo
T-shirt. Asked about his function he pretended not to hear the question. He
dangled after Dominik all the time and he was explaining obvious things like
"first passport control, only then customs clearance". After we were done with
all formalities the man demanded money for his favour ? more than that, he even
brought a friend with him, who wanted to "do us a favour" and
exchange our money, as "banks in Iran make some problems about exchange".
As it turned out, he wanted to cheat us on the course of the currency by five
times.
In the stripe of no man?s land between
the countries we put on some trousers. Jola had to put on also a long-sleeve
top, covering the neck, and a scarf on her face.
The first question in the passport
section on the Iranian border was about our kinship. Wife? Sister? The officer
could not understand that we work together. He said: "not a wife, not a sister,
then who?". In Iran a woman can be either a sister or a wife. There?s no other
option. You can?t be a friend or a companion in travel. It?s unacceptable ? a
free woman? What?s that supposed to be?
But the real hard time with
explanations was in the customs section. We were asked to present our "Carnetto
de Passage" .We said we didn?t have it, and then had to explain everything to
the officer, so we asked to see the senior officer to resolve the problem.
Carnetto de Passage turned out to be a
document that guarantees that the car you travel by wouldn?t be sold on the
territory of Iran and will leave the country with the owner.
The senior officer at the customs saw
two possible solutions. The first one was to buy a $100 car insurance (despite
of the fact that the Green Card is recognized in Iran, what we had managed to
prove), as the insurance company gives you the needed document for free; the
second one was to obtain a guarantee from the Polish Embassy that the car we
travel by wouldn?t be sold in Iran. The Polish Embassy took their time
preparing the written document, both side were becoming nervous as it were the
last minutes of officers' work, so we finally decided to buy the insurance.
We spend on the Iranian border about
5,5 hours altogether; mainly waiting for officers' decisions and stamps. We got
20 pages of papers, each of them with a few stamps, and a precise prescriptions
concerning our transit route through Iran, which we didn't obey anyway. With
all the documents needed and our wallets poorer by 100$ we set off towards the
heart of Iran.
Curious things happen in Iran. At 4
a.m., a couple of hours after we went to sleep, we were woken up by a tractor
horn; the driver had to say hello to us.
When we were standing at a red light in
Sanandaj a young boy ran up to the car and started repeating "I love you,
mister, I love you" to Dominik.
Men in Iran don?t look at women,
because they all look the same ? their entire bodies and faces are covered.
That?s why men are interested in other men, what you can see everywhere. It is
men who are dressed in fashionable clothes - tight tops, modern trousers, it's
them who gel their hair. Women are to stand by them and look like Batman,
concealed behind long black linens reaching their knees and even ankles.
In Iran all women, even European ones,
are obliged to cover their bodies and heads. In Brandar E Bushehr we were stopped
by religious police ? we were coming out of a restaurant, dressed in long
trousers. Jola had a long-sleeve fleece, but it didn?t cover her neck properly,
which was enough to have some trouble with the police. Dominik?s top was also
inappropriate ? its sleeves weren?t long enough. The temperature was 55°C. As
you can see, travelling through Iran is not simple, and it is certainly hot. It
was us who were in their country and we had to respect their laws and rules.
This is beyond discussion. A different thing is that it is not easy, because in
summertime the temperatures are rarely less than 45°C.
Esfahan is said to be the most
beautiful town i Iran. We visited the main mosque and the largest bazaar. The
bazaar is much more traditional than that in Stambul, though it is less famous.
On our way to the Persian Gulf we come across a real desert town with a fort,
which makes a stupendous impression. We had an hour?s walk, we talked gestures
to the locals, took some pictures, did some filming. No tourists there, oh no.
The surface of the road leading
through the mountains is perfectly smooth, so stopping for the night we didn't
even feel that we had driven for 15 hours. At 2 a.m. the rocks were still hot.
It was difficult to breathe as the ground gave back the heat accumulated during
the day. Dominik had the first symptoms of exhaustion, i.e. nose bleeding.
Another long drive was ahead of us.
The road from Bandar E Bushehr to
Bandar Abass affords spectacular views on the beaches of the Persian Gulf. They
are wide and sandy, but nobody bathes there, as it?s of little sense ? the
water is nearly as hot as the air. Between the two cities there is an oil
refinery, spreading along the road for fifteen kilometres. In one of the
villages on our way we witnessed a terrible, bloody fight between two donkeys.
We slept - or rather were dying from the heat - within some distance from the
road, but quite close to a hashish smoking-room. Sweaty and weary, we couldn't
fall asleep till 4 a.m. We had driven 900 kilometres in 17 hours.
Just before Kerman, at 9900 kilometre
of our expedition the rev counter broke. As it was to turn out later, it was a
result of another malfunction. In the Kerman itself something completely
extraordinary happened to us - after a meal in a restaurant the tow women
running it refused to take the money from us. Confused, we paid them anyway and
moved ahead after thanking them for their most polite service.
We were planning to cross the
Pakistanian border in Pischin, but after 20 kilometres from Rigin the condition
of the road worsened drastically. It is an area of great-scale smuggling, so
the roads are rarely repaired. We changed our plans and decided to cross the
border in Mirjaveh.
You easily know where the smuggling
zone in Iran is after taking a look at the huge car control terminals. They are
located on the main roads near Bandar Abbas and Kerman. The controls are really
detailed, including disassembling cars and coaches into first parts.
After 15 hours of driving we fell
asleep in our tent on a date plantation. We were on the road from 8 a.m. till
11 p.m. It was our fifth day in Iran.
On the next day, about 150 kilometres
from the border we met four fuel smugglers. Although their main occupation is
smuggling fuel to Pakistan and Afghanistan, they are very friendly. They told
us which places in Afghanistan were relatively safe and which were not to be
entered by any circumstance. We had a meal together and then we parted and
headed for Miravjeh, to cross the border.
The distance we'd driven in Iran was 4488
kilometres. The roads there are of excellent quality. The temperature reaches
55°C, but there is no single trace of ruts. There are often four lanes, even in
the highest mountains. But Iran was behind.
Ahead of us ? a great surprise: Pakistan.
On the Iranian side of the border there
were no unnecessary formalities. The little heap of car documents was taken
away from us, and we were allowed to go. In the no-man?s land between the
Iranian and Pakistani border we had to drive away currency peddlers,
importuning us with proposals of currency exchange. Knowing that the rate they
offer is rather poor, we did not decide to exchange.
We went through the Pakistani passport
section in ten minutes. A problem cropped up at the customs ? Carnetto di
Passage. We explained why we didn?t have it and were told to go to the local
senior officer?s office. There the issue was discussed seriously. Two Poles
came all the way to Pakistan without the Carnetto ? but how? The final decision
was to let us buy the document in Quetta, 640 kilometers away, where we were to
be escorted by an armed soldier. Seeing our loaded Cinquecento, the officer
quickly changed his mind. "The soldier will follow you on a bus and you?ll meet
up in Quetta", said the officer. It was night. The soldiers told us that
further driving could be dangerous. For the first 100 kilometers the road was
covered by the desert sand. There were moments when we felt the chassis of our
car rubbing the sandy ground. Then we got on the so-called Pakistani Highway ?
200 kilometers of excellent road with cat-eyes in the middle and on the sides.
The fee was 5 rupees, and it was the first and the last time we had to pay for
driving on a motorway. Unfortunately, every good thing has its end, and so
after 200 kilometers the motorway turned into an asphalt path. Just in case we
filled up with some 30 rupees/litre gas bought from the smugglers (the price of
legal gas was 49 rupees/litre).
There is a curious kind of vehicles on
Pakistani roads, which we called "dusties". Those "dusties" are so heavy from
the decorations and small chains they?re ornamented with, that they can hardly
move. Why "dusties" ? Because their drivers are really reluctant to clear the
way for other vehicles, as if they were afraid that their precious usually
those contraptions are shiny like brand new ones. Initially, those crawlers
annoyed us, but later on it turned out that their drivers are surprisingly
helpful and friendly. As we progressed on our way, we started to greet them
cheerfully when passing by. It wasn?t unusual to meet in the north some of
them, who we?d seen in the south 15-20 days before ? it takes such a "dusty"
about 12 days to get from Quetta to Gilgit (about 3000 kilometres). Apart from
the trucks, we frequently passed by speeding buses, always with a few
passengers on the roof.
We reached Quetta in late afternoon. It
was full of people, thousands of them, loads of filthy stalls and billions of
flies. Fortunately, the odour wasn?t that bad.
We found a Central Customs Office for
the Balochistan area, where we were supposed to show up on the next day. We
spent the night in a motel on the side of the road ? the nights in Quetta are
relatively cool, which gave us an opportunity to sleep well. The microclimate
in Quetta is quite specific ? the heat during the day reaches 47 degrees. On
Monday morning we went to the Custom Head Office in Quetta. It was 10 a.m.
The "toy soldier" ? as this is how we
called him - justified an hour?s delay saying that he had a visit at
hairdresser?s. We were flattered, and thought at that time that he wanted to
look good because of our arrival. After an hour of formalities, the head of the
car section asked us to pay the soldier 4000 rupees for escorting us. After a
quick calculation we realized that it was about 240 zloty. We asked him what
should we pay for in the first place, as we arrived to Quetta on our own, with
no escort at all. He said something about our "toy soldier" bringing our
documents and insisted on paying. We would have probably been willing to
negotiate the price, but his arrogance and harsh tone was too much for us. I
asked him for a phone call to the Polish Embassy. He was surprised, but he let
me make the call. I told him that I would pay for the cost of the call, but
after 6 minutes of talk with the Polish consul in Karachi the "big boss" came
up to me and snatched the receiver from me, saying that the Pakistani
government wouldn?t pay for Poles? chatting. This is when the storm began. We
demanded to see his superior.
Samad ? as that was his name ? invited
us to his office. At the first glance, he seemed to be a very strict and harsh
man. After we?ve described him the situation, he told us about the three
alternative solutions he could see:
First option was to leave the car in
the customs office parking, which meant continuing our expedition by public
transport. The second option was a guarantee from the Polish Embassy that we
would not sell our car, and the third one was to pay the duty tax, which would
then be returned to us our departure from Pakistan. The important question was:
how much? Samad was tenacious at the beginning. He didn?t want to accept our
explanations and arguments. As we joked a bit at the absurd situation, he
produced a customs code and showed us a relevant paragraph ? which only made us
laugh. After weighing all the pros and cons we decided to try and talk to the
consul. Samad offer to talk to the consul himself, so we left his office,
waiting for a fax from the Embassy. All in all, we didn?t want to disorganize
his whole working day with our problem.
We sat on a bench in front of his
office, where we were hosted with water, tea and other beverages. One has to
admit, that they certainly don?t lack hospitality and good manners. Dominik
kept peeping into the fax room. After a few minutes the electricity went off,
by a weird coincidence just when our problem was about to be solved ? but we
couldn?t say for sure if they did it on purpose. After two hours of waiting we
got frustrated and decided to handle the matter by ourselves ? it couldn?t have
been the only fax in the town! We made an attempt to walk out ? but the guards
reacted immediately. We hurried to our car and drove towards the exit gate,
which was just being closed ? one of the soldiers even reloaded his rifle.
We were brought in Samad?s office.
Seriously angry, we threw our passports on his desk, declaring that we want to
go and find a fax on our own, as without electricity the fax wouldn?t reach the
office at all. He didn?t even protest, just asked us to be careful.
After 20 minutes we were back with the
fax printed. Samad read the text carefully, and, unfortunately, found a fault
in it. The text said that it was us who guaranteed that the car wouldn?t be
sold, while we wanted the Embassy to guarantee that. At that moment everybody
was confused. Samad ordered his clerks to calculate the duty tax we would have
to pay for our car. After about thirty minutes they were ready with the answer:
about 4700 $. We burst out laughing. From that moment on we decided to cut the
formal talk. Samad promised to find a solution and we started a friendly chat.
We told him about ourselves and showed him our website. The fact that we did a
lot of travelling made Samad look at us in a different way. We learnt from him
that in Pakistan the children go to school only if their parents want them to
become educated. Depending on the parents? will a child might remain
analphabetic, irrelevantly of the family?s material status. We also talked
about the role of women in their culture. We asked Samad where the women were,
as we couldn?t meet too many of them in the streets. Samad said that they were
cooking dinners for their husbands, and that to see the women one must go to the
marketplace. Samad turned out to be a man of extensive knowledge and charisma,
which means an absolute power there. He is the right man in the right place.
With his guarantee, we could continue our travel in Pakistan freely. Thank you
for that, Samad!
From Quetta we moved on to Sukkur, a
city located at the bank of the murky Indus River. Our interest was aroused by
frequently set up, armed police posts, with policemen armed with rifles. After
a short consideration we decided to spend the night at a date plantation at the
side of the road. We chose a nice spot, had a relaxed chat, listened to the
radio a bit. Suddenly Dominik heard a gunshot. Jola said it must have been just
an illusion and we waited in suspense. Before a minute had passed, we heard another
shot ? this time the swish of the bullet caused us to jerk. We got out of the
car with our hands raised, shouting that we were tourists. Two rather nervous
policemen ordered us to stay in the car. They started searching for something
in the neighbourhood of our car, using their flashlights. We tried to ask them
for the reason of the incident, but they didn?t seem very willing to explain
that. After some ten minutes a police chief from Sukkur arrived at the scene
and asked who we were and what we were looking for at the plantation. We told
him we had just wanted to rest. After checking our documents, the chief said
that it might have been a better solution for us to stay at the hotel, but he
reassured us that the neighbourhood was safe. That was kind of funny ? we had
just
been shot at, but the area was safe! We
finally spent the night in our car on a truck parking.
In the morning we set out towards the Derawar
Fort, the biggest and most famous fort in Pakistan. It wasn?t easy to get
there, as road signs are practically non-existent, but in the end we managed to
find it. It is a huge fort, which can be accessed only with a governments?
permit.
In Bahwalpur we decided to spend a
night in the Silver Motel ? a cosy place with a very polite staff. For 1200
rupees we got a large room with a nice bathroom, a fridge full of soft drinks
and a TV. Air-conditioning provided us with a pleasant coolness. We had a
really good rest there, so that we didn?t feel like leaving the place the day
after.
We made a decision to see Multan
thoroughly. At all times we were accompanied by two nice little girls, who
showed us all the corners of the Multan bazaar. Then we headed for Lahore,
which is known in Pakistan as the "capital of food" ? even one of the streets
is called "Food Street". It is also here where the only McDonald restaurant in
Pakistan is located. The pots of the roadside kitchens, however, were home to
thousands of flies, which didn?t seem to influence the marvellous taste of the
food sold there. There is no such thing as Polish Sanepid (Health Board) in
Pakistan, we guess.
In Gujrat, on our way to Islamabad, we
had the pleasure of dining at the Papa Sam?s restaurant. The owned of the
restaurant was a young man, who came back to Pakistan after 13 years of working
in the UK, in order to open his own business. He owned a petrol station as
well. The restaurant was very clean and the owner very hospitable ? he gifted
us with two "menu" meals and invited us to come again.
We headed for Islamabad. In Taxila the
police caught us on the radar ? we were speeding by 46 kilometres/hour. A
minimum ticket for such a violation is 720 rupees. We got off with a warning.
Then we went to Peshawar, where we had
an appointment with our friend, Sayed. We started looking for a hotel and we
checked some ten places. The standard wasn?t very high, but the prices were
low. Sometimes the rooms were filthy and devoid of any equipment. We chose the
Hedayat hotel, and we got a VIP room with TV, fridge and air-conditioning for
1200 rupees. The room service were very helpful ? they brought us our food and
drinks to the room. He surprised us even more when he said "That?s good
money". Note that the VIP room cost per night is exactly what this boy gets per
month.
The following day we drove to the Swat
Valley. The road wasn?t easy ? it was located high in the mountains, and the
road work and omnipresent dust didn?t make the situation any better. The views,
however, were truly impressive, and the exploits performed by ordinary
Pakistani drivers took our breath away. A true stunt performance for free!
Late at night we got back to Peshawar,
where we were supposed to see Sayed the following day. At the established time
we met in front of the hotel. Sayed showed us the two faces of the city. The
modern one, almost European, with gleaming shop windows, exclusive restaurants
and designer clothes boutiques. The other face is an old town with narrow
streets, full of stalls and scent of spices. Dominik had a bath in a swimming
pool ? of course in a company of men only, as it is not acceptable for men and
women to bathe together ? the swimming pool is open for men or women depending
on the day of the week. We had a delicious fish on the bank of the Kabul River
and took a canoeing trip down the river.
The three days we spent with Sayed was
time of great fun and a rest from the hardships of our travels. After four days
of something that could be called a luxurious experience we went to Islamabad
to obtain Afghanistan visas. The capital of Pakistan doesn?t even resemble any
of the other cities in the region. No poverty, no dirt ? it is a show-off city
for the mighty of this world. Looking at that city you get an impression that
Pakistan is a wealthy country ? but it?s just an illusion.
The majority of embassies is located in
a specified area, where one can enter by bus from a special parking, paying 30
rupees for a ticket. We went to the Embassy of Afghanistan. There weren?t much
difficulties with getting a visa, but we needed a letter of recommendation form
the Polish Embassy. We found the Embassy of Poland ( a huge building encircled
with spacious gardens) and were welcomed ? in our mother tongue ? by a Polish
guard at the gate. He was really happy to see his compatriots, as there weren?t
many of them in there. This, however, was the last nice thing that happened to
us in the embassy. The conversation with the representatives of the authorities
of the Republic of Poland was very polite at the beginning. We were asked the standard
questions "where from", "where to", "by what" and so on.
When the gentlemen found out what our
means of transport was ? Fiat Cinquecento - one of them managed to remain
serious, but the other burst out laughing. Jola got annoyed and asked him if he
found that so funny and amusing ? he tried to explain his literally cheeky
behaviour, but he said one thing too much anyway. He criticized our idea to
enter the Karakorum Mountains by car, saying that we had no chance of getting
through, as "all engines refuse to function there". As you can see in the
photos or videos from our expedition, our engine did not refuse to function ?
greetings for THEORETICIANS!!!
Another issue turned out to be the
recommendation letter. This is when it started ? they kept on telling us about
the dangerous situation in Afghanistan, about the risk that we were supposedly
unaware of. As it turned out, those gentlemen had already their image of us.
Their advisor on situation in Afghanistan sent them an email, which we sent to
her (some people don?t know what privacy means), and in which we asked some
general questions about Afghanistan. The reply was as follows: "Your car will
fall to pieces after the first 100 kilometres, as the roads here are rather for
four-wheel-drive vehicles. It?s not even a challenge to come to Afghanistan
right now, it?s a pure stupidity? and you?ll have your time in Afghanistan, but
after 100 000 lands you?ll see before. Because we don?t want Afghanistan
to be the LAST country on your list, do we? And your arrival now would probably
mean that."
Jola asked the gentlemen if there was
any formal difference between obtaining the visa in Warsaw and Islamabad. A
notice to every Pole willing to go to Afghanistan: GET THE VISAS IN WARSAW. 90
euros, 2 photos and a passport ? that?s all you need to get the visa there. You
don?t even have to show up in Warsaw personally ? they send the passport with
the visa back to your address. In Ankara you wait for the visa for about three
hours ? and you don?t need the recommendation letter at all. Even though the
gentlemen didn?t have any more arguments, they sustained her negative answer.
They kept repeating over and over again what a dangerous and wild country
Afghanistan was. We asked them to quit the safety subject, as we were sho9t at
twice by that time and we didn?t blow it out of proportion. It?s our life and
it?s up to us how to live it. They asked where we?d been shot at ? we told them
it was Sukkur ? and their reply was : "Where is it?" How is it possible, that
people who are in charge of consular functions for 6 years don?t know where
Sukkur, one of the largest cities of Pakistan, located at the intercession of
two communication routes, is located? We believe it?s a shame that Poland is
represented by such people in the country where travellers are treated with the
due respect. That?s what our memories from the Polish Embassy are like.
In Peshawar we met a man, who is
probably the best person to ask about Afghanistan ? firstly, he?s Afghan,
secondly, he?s a Ministry Advisor at the Afghan government. He was really sorry
that such a stupid stereotype about his country is being kept alive. He
stressed that that was political propaganda. In Kabul and the majority of
Afghanistan people are quite friendly towards foreigners. Obviously, you have
to respect their ways and rules. Afghanistan is also more liberal than Iran, or
at least such is the impression after you talk to some Afghans.
There is a journalist in Peshawar, who
can get you (for 110 $) an escort for the most dangerous route from the border
of Pakistan to Jalalabad (about 74 kilometres). All the Afghan people we talked
to agreed that it was a dangerous road. Nobody says that Afghanistan is a
totally safe place. Those who need a 100% warranty for safe travelling should
stay home. During a few years of our travels we encountered many dangers, and
we believe that there is no place which would be absolutely safe ? which seems
to be confirmed by the news everyday.
Resigned and disgusted, we tried to
plan a different, exciting route of our return to Poland. The Embassy of Turkmenistan
doesn?t give visas at all. In the Embassy of Azerbaijan we would have to wait
for two weeks, and even if we had been granted the visa, it might have been for
as short as 24 hours. We agreed to go back via north Iran and Turkey to
Georgia, where we would think where to go next ? maybe Russia, maybe Ukraine?
Angry because of the situation, we
decided to ease our disappointment by going to Gilgit in Kashmir, via a road called
the Karakoram Highway. Very narrow "highway" it is, and sometimes it lacks
asphalt, too. But the unique atmosphere of the place is makes up for the
difficulties. He landscape frequently changes from rice fields to deserts, or
even snow-covered 7,000 ? metres peaks. Police posts are frequent and the
policemen register all the people passing by. It helps when they have to look
for missing tourists. We could see the strong, violent current of the Indus
River down in its valley, then Gilgit River ? and destroyed bridges, huge rocky
landslides. The road was blocked in some places by falling rocks and stones.
At the foot of Nanga Parbat (8126 m.
above sea level) we took a couple of pictures. It was the first time we had
seen such a tall mountain. The impression is astounding. 45 degrees Celsius
down where we were, and masses of snow covering the peak, waiting for another
daredevil willing to try his luck against the Killer Mountain.
The route via China was out of option,
as it is impossible to get there with one?s own car, unless willing to pay for
a special permit (100$ a day). The route to Astor is a 2-meters broad ledge,
often metalled. Unfortunately, we couldn?t have taken it, as it was blocked by
stones and rocks. We headed towards south Pakistan. We were on the Afghan
border, but we couldn?t drive in, thanks to the "kindness" of the Polish
Embassy. Though we were very close to China, we couldn?t visit it due to the
rigorous restrictions there. We had to go back via Iran, which we?re not particularly
fond of.
We went along the Afghani border. We
were not allowed into Miriam Shah because of a serious danger, though we
weren?t told what kind of a danger it was. The local people claimed it was just
propaganda, as the area is peaceful regardless of the cultural and religious
differences between the people inhabiting it.
In Dera Ismail we were stopped by an
elite commando force. They surrounded us tightly, not letting any of the
hundreds of onlookers too close. The commander asked us what we were doing
there, as tourists were forbidden to enter the area. We told him that we didn?t
see any signs nor barriers, so we just drove in, mainly to fill up. The
commander said that they have to escort us to the next town. There we went: one
car full of armed commando soldiers in front of us and another one behind us.
Any impediments in the traffic didn?t matter now.
The escort left us in Dera Ghazi Khan.
The soldiers advised us not to continue our travel by night, especially on
hearing that we were on our way to Quetta.
Initially, the narrow road to Quetta
led via mountains and there was no asphalt surface. Overtaking or passing by
other vehicles was more like performing stunts than normal driving. In the
ubiquitous dust raised by the trucks, we didn?t go faster than 20 kilometres /
hour. Then the road became flat, but there was very little asphalt on it. A
couple of times we had to drive through giant puddles, about 30 centimeters
deep. The road was uneven, we frequently brushed the chassis of our car against
protruding stones. Finally, the mass-cable in our car tore off, and we had to
stop and fix the failure. In an hour?s time the car was fixed rough-and-ready.
We also met a nice traveller from
Austria ? a biker heading for China. He didn?t look very well. He had spent two
weeks in a hospital in Quetta, due to a stomach upset. He said that he still
hadn?t recovered fully, and the most difficult stage of his journey ? a hilly
road with metalled/rocky surface. We talked about our adventures and took some
commemorative pictures. He also said that neither of us should actually be in
that region, as it is forbidden for foreigners. We exchanged email addresses
and moved on.
In good mood we headed towards Taftan,
the border with Iran. We arrived there in the early evening. The Pakistani
officers registered our leaving, stamped our passports and let us go.
The Irani customs officials, however,
immediately noticed the lack of Carnetto di Passage. We weren?t too happy about
it ? we remembered the procedure in Turkey. The head of the customs office set
to our case at once, saying that we would find a solution. He also admitted
that the whole problem was caused by wrong information provided by his
government and intervened in the Polish Embassy in Teheran, so that they issue
the necessary documents. As the customs office in Teheran had to give us the
permit to travel by car, he asked us to translate the text of Polish Green
card, which is obligatory in Iran as well. Then we could only waits for the
faxes from the Polish Embassy and the customs office.
This highly effective intervention of
the customs official was triggered by the fact that the insurance company
claimed 500$ for our car insurance. He rightly said that this sum was
unbelievable. Finally, after all the documents were completed, we could move on
without having to pay anything.
In Nahbandan a small boy tried to cheat
on us ? he wanted to sell us four cans of Pepsi for 45 000 rials, thought
they cost 8 000 in a nearby shop. Little cheat, that what he was.
On the coast of the Caspian Sea there
were lots of Iranians. A night in a camping cabin without any facilities cost
24$, and we believe this was a "special price" for foreigners. A windowless
cabin with sleeping places on the floor cost 10$. A woman said "for we is ok?",
but it wasn?t OK for us for that price.
We spent the night in the car, next to
a little stream. In the morning we were woken by the sound of the Coco Jumbo
hit, which we hadn?t heard for long. The road to Rasht was closed, so we went
to Bandar E Anzali. It seemed the whole Iran was resting there, so many people
we saw. The beach was like a garbage bin, the water was murky.
We got close to the Azerbaijani border
and turned west towards Turkey. We purchased a petrol container, as we wanted
to take some petrol with us to Turkey. We filled up in Maku, where we found a
place to spend the night as well. It is better to cross the border in the
morning ? you never know what complications may occur.
Fortunately, there were no problems on
the border. To our surprise, the Turkish customs officers kicked and beat up a
man just in front of us. They said he?d been a smuggler, but is that a reason
to beat somebody so badly? Strange custom? We paid for our visas, collected car
documents and went ahead. Thanks to the fact that the control was a bit lousy,
we managed to bring 20 litres of cheap fuel in.
After crossing the border we set off
for Georgia. Before reaching the Black Sea we had to drive along a very curvy
road. The towns there are located virtually on the steep mountain slopes, and
the buildings look as if they were protruding from the mountains. We used the
petrol we had smuggled into Turkey ? the risk proved worth taking, as the
difference in price is huge.
Before the border, we decided to spend
the night in Hopa. We camped next to a Turkish campsite ? they had spent there
some time before we arrived, as the tent was prepared for bad weather and
surrounded with all their belongings.
The border between Turkey and Georgia
was full of second car traders ? their faces looked as if they had been into
boxing or wrestling for the best part of their lives. The Turkey officers
registered our leave, the Georgian control let us in with no problem. Georgia
doesn?t require a visa from the citizens of Poland since July 2005. Anyway,
they demanded some fees: 7$ for "wriemiennyj wwoz" and 3$ for disinfection. We
didn?t agree to pay the latter fee ? firstly, we didn?t have any dollars left,
secondly, no disinfection would be carried out anyway. The Georgian custom
officers were very nice.
After an hour or so we were already in
Batumi. Not much is left from the famous resort. Hotels in ruins, dilapidated
townhouses, no foreign tourists. Only one bank could change British pounds for
us ? the dollar is still in charge here.
Batumi welcomed us with a 2-hours?
downpour. The city looked as flooded ? flooded cars, floating bins, water
pouring into shops and houses. Waiting for the rain to stop we went for dinner.
We had "ostryj" ? meat pieces in spicy sauce with onion and bread. Delicious.
After a while, we realized that Georgia
was full of gangster-looking men, with flat faces and broad necks. One street
can host 30 currency bureaus ? but for whom? There are cows lying in the
streets, pigs are running freely. What?s interesting, you can?t really see any
Wolgas or Ladas (cheap Russian cars). There?s lots of second-hand cars from the
Western Europe, and quite a lot of new Infinitis, Land Cruisers, Pajeros and
M-Klasse Mercs. Sunglasses covering half of the face, unbuttoned shirts for men
and elegant, pointed shoes for women are all the rage.
If you manage to find a hotel there, it
is hidden somewhere in the woods, sporting the highest standard and costing
about 80 ? 240 $ per night. Mind you, this is a country where an average salary
is about 200 $. There are no villas where all those people with expensive cars
could be living in; there are no factories, no major private firms. The
ordinary people of Georgia are very kind and honest.
On our way to the Ossetian border we
spent a night at the side of a beautiful lake. Unfortunately, a night downpour
turned the area into one brown swamp, and had serious difficulties with getting
out of there. Had it rained for a couple of hours more, we wouldn?t have been
able to get out at all.
When we entered the Caucasus mountains,
the engine suddenly started working using only three of its four cylinders.
We checked the high voltage cables and it turned out that the ending of one of
them had burned out. The only way to fix it was to buy a new one, but that was
clearly impossible in the middle of the mountains. We decided to move on. We
were about 30 kilometres from the border and about 60 from Vladivostok. The
only thing we didn?t expect was that the road turned into something like a
rocky path, with barely no asphalt. Most of the tunnels were closed, we had to
go via by-passes on narrow ledges. Exhausted, we reached the border in torrents
of rain.
The soldier from the Georgian Border
Guard gave us a gloomy prospect of our entrance to Ossetia and Tchechenia. The
atmosphere in Ossetia is tense, due to the Bieslan tragedy. Entering the
country would mean huge bribes in the first pace, and then we would be obviously
robbed of all our possessions. He told us the story of a certain Russian, who
barely reached the border coming back from Ossetia, and he didn?t even have the
money to purchase the visa, as the bandits didn?t leave a penny on him. "At
least they didn?t kill him", he added. The situation in Tchechenia is similar.
Upon hearing "Grozny" (the capital of Tchechenia) the officer just laughed
quietly. "You never know what can happen there", he said. The roads are full of
armed outlaws in fast cars, dangerous and violent.
Another bright idea of ours was
entering Russia via Suchumi. The soldier said that we must had become bored
with our lives, as nobody leaves the Abkhaz Republic alive. It is a republic
of a size of a county in Poland, not recognized either by Russia or Georgia.
All the cultural heritage of that region, bridges and buildings were destroyed.
By the end of the 80s, this region was called "the paradise of Georgia". Now it
is a post-war ruin.
There could be only one conclusion. We
couldn?t leave Georgia by land other way than via Turkey or Azerbaijan ? which
would mean waiting two weeks for a visa.
Thus, driving on three cylinders,
risking a serious damage to the engine, we had to move back to Tbilisi.
Sometimes on the first gear, sometimes on the second one (lack of power) we
struggled through one pass after another. These were the most beautiful
mountains we had ever seen ? snow-covered peaks and marvellous views. We also
decided to try and fix the failure by ourselves ? we cut the burned endings and
it did help ? the engine worked normally. In Tbilisi we bought new cables from
Lada, and they were perfect for our car ? the car regained its full power.
We thought that Georgia is safe ?
nobody bothered us ever. This changed when we punctured a tyre somewhere in the
mountains. While Dominik was changing the wheel, a brad new police Passat
approached us. One of the police officers jumped out of it and rushed to help
us, repeating that we were in danger, as foreigners standing on the side of the
road is a tragedy waiting to happen. We could have easily been robbed and hurt.
Unfortunately, we couldn?t buy any
13-inches tyres in Georgia, so we had to drive on our spare tyre to Bulgaria.
After 5 days of our stay in Georgia we arrived
at the Turkish border again.
The atmosphere on the Georgian side of
the border was very friendly. One of the officers treated us like his personal
friends and invited us to visit him in Batumi the next year.
On the Turkish side, however, there was
trouble. We had to demanded to see the head official, as the visa clerk shouted
at us and tried to cheat on us ? saying that 15$ equals 15 euro. Some elderly
ladies there moaned that we should give him what he wants, cause we might not
get a visa at all, but after we talked with the clerk?s superior we finally
managed to get the visas for 15$ per person and get the proper change.
Our way back via Turkey led along the
coast of the Black Sea. We were surprised by the huge amounts of
dried hazelnuts, laid out in the sun on every possible spot.
We reached the Bulgarian border in
Kapikkula on the next day. There was a longish queue there ? German Turkish
were coming back from their holidays in Turkey. They tend to act a little bit
weird ? we saw a driver of a new BMW 7 Series, pushing his car with the help of
his entire family, with obvious amount of noise. Pushing cars seems to be quite
popular there, regardless of the make and age ? whether it is an old Ford or a
brand new Mercedes, it makes no difference.
Those cars are usually fully loaded,
and there are often some terrible contraptions mounted on the roofs instead of
normal roof trunks. The border looks as if it was a bazaar full of people.
Fortunately, the customs officers did a very good job. We had to pay 3$ of
disinfection fee ? some liquid from the hosepipe sprinkled onto our wheels ?
plus 15 $ for road vignette (a small badge placed on the windshield) and off we
went. We changed the money in Svilengrad and bought two new tyres for 65 lev
each.
We arrived at the Serbian border in the
evening. Due to very bad weather we treated this land as a transit country ? we
crossed it without stopping anywhere. Thanks to the good quality of the highway
(another fee ? 15 euro), we reached Hungary the next day. We drove via Hungary
without any problems, knowing that we were getting close to Poland. Slovak
customs officers welcomed us in their usual manner ? annoyed and impatient,
what could have been heard in their raised voices.
Four hours later we were in Poland?
For 27,000 kilometres there was not a
single moment of doubt. Travels are our passion. Despite all the difficulties
and problems, dangers and hardships, we wouldn?t hesitate for a second if we
were to get in the car and set on the road in a 50º C heat, and experience
the clouds of dust and ubiquitous dirt once again. It was adventure for us, it
is everyday life for the people we met.
The Pakistani are a hospitable and
friendly nation.
Of course, we were left a bit
unsatisfied by the fact we didn?t actually get into Afghanistan. But maybe this
is the way it was supposed to be? Anyway, Afghanistan is still our goal!
We would like to thank the following:
-"AUTO SERWIS WŁADYSŁAW STOKŁOSA" car
service for a thorough preparation of our car for the expedition and telephone
counselling during the trip. The car did a great job and never really let us
down.
- Red Bull Poland for supporting us with
their energetic drinks.
- all of those who had and have faith in
us!
THE EXPEDITION IN NUMBERS:
58 days ?
the time the expedition took
26 785
? the total distance we travelled
148 kilometres ? the distance we travelled in Poland
420 kilometres - the distance we travelled
in Slovakia
501 kilometres ? the distance we
travelled in Hungary
1662 kilometres ? the distance we travelled in Romania
884 kilometres ? the distance we travelled in Bulgaria
6368 kilometres ? the distance we travelled in Turkey
7573 kilometres ? the distance we travelled in Iran
7385 kilometres ? the distance we travelled in Pakistan and Kashmir
1302 kilometres ? the distance we travelled in Georgia
542 kilometres ? the distance we travelled in Serbia and Montenegro
1682 litres of consumed fuel
CAR DEFECTS:
At 9900 kilometre ? rev counter
At 14 700 kilometre ? mass-cable
At 22100 kilometre ? high voltage cable
At 25 411 kilometre ? front tyres changed
PRICES OF FUEL, SOME OTHER PRODUCTS AND
CURRENCY EXCHANGE RATIOS:
ROMANIA:
Lead-free 95 petrol ? 33 500 LEI a
litre
1$=29 500 Lei, 1 Euro=35 700 Lei,
1£=53 100 Lei
BULGARY:
Lead-free 95 petrol ? 1.81 lev a litre
1$=1,59 lev, 1 Euro=1.94 lev, 1£=2.88
lev
Peaches, 1 kg = 5 lev; cherries, 1 kg =
3,50 lev; water melon, 1 kg = 1,5 lev
Tomatoes, 1 kg = 1,40 lev; cucumbers, 1 kg
= 1,20 lev; Pepsi 2-litres = 2 lev; a loaf of bread = 0,55 lev; dried almonds =
2,42 lev / pack
TURKEY:
Lead-free 95 petrol ? 2,61 YKR / litre
LPG ? 1,26 YKR / litre
1$=1,33 YKR, 1£=2,42 YKR
Loaf of bread = 0,50 YKR (small), 1 YKR
(large); Fanta 2 litres = 1,75 YKR, Pepsi 2 litres = 2,20 YKR; Turkish biscuits
= 9 YKR/kg; cherries, 1 kg = 5 YKR; 5 eggs = 5,5 YKR; 2 sausages = 4,5 YKR;
small butter = 1 YKR
2 x kebab (delicious) + 2 cans of Pepsi =
10 YKR (delicious)
Parking fee (Istanbul) ? 10 YKR/4 hours
City plan = 5 YKR
IRAN:
Lead-free petrol (octan number unknown) =
800 rial
Diesel fuel ? 165 rial
1$=8 984 rial; 1 Euro = 10 713
rial; 1£ = 15 774 rial
Pepsi 1,5 L = 15 000 rial, 6 baguettes
= 3 000 rial; 8-pack Pepsi + Mirinda = 32 000 rial; 2 small packs of
pistachio nuts = 15 000 rial;
2x 1,5 litre Pepsi + 1,5 litre water =
12 000 rial
2x kebab + 2 cans of Pepsi = 21 000
rial
4 280 mililitres Parsi Cola bottles =
7 000 rial
Average dinner at a restaurant =
50 000 rial
Castrol GTX Magnatec motor oil 1 litre =
40 000 rial
Internet access at an internet café =
10 000 rial / hour, 7 000 rial / 30 minutes
Double room at a hotel ? 30$/night
Camping site = 10$/car
Camping cabins = 14-24$/night
PAKISTAN:
Lead-free 95 petrol - 49,02 rupees/litre
1 £ = 104,34 rupees
Pepsi 1,5 litre + Fanta 1,5 litre = 120
rupees
2 small pizzas = 140 rupees
Natural grapes juice = 120 rupees/litre
Natural mixed fruit juice = 55 rupees/litre
8 280-millilitres bottles of Pepsi and
Sprite = 80 rupees
Diesel jeans = 575 rupees/pair
Armani trousers = 900 rupees/pair
Depending on the standard of the
restaurant, a good meal costs about 140-400 rupees.
Hotel double room (VIP) ? 1200-2000 rupees
GEORGIA:
Lead-free 95 petrol = 1,42 lar / litre
Lead-free 98 petrol = 1,59 lar / litre
1$ = 1,89 lar; 1 Euro = 2,23 lar; 1£
= 3,15 lar
Fanta/Pepsi 2,5 litre = 2 lar
4 pieces of cake = 4 lar
Pears, 1 kg = 1 lar
A loaf of bread = 1 lar
Meals at restaurants: ostryj = 9,60 lar;
chinkali (huge dumplings with meat) = 8 lar; odzachuri (something like French
fries with pork, absolutely delicious) = 7 lar
2 x McDonalds meal = 15,30 lar
