Monday morning after breakfast I went to the Pak embassy, to see about my visa, and got told I didn't need one. An extra day in Kabul to find that out.
Tried to hike through the old city to find the way to Bala Hisar, but there didn't seem to be any through route. And the tourist office told me I couldn't get to the Noon Gun, only to find a park a km away.
I've gotten paranoid about the amount of money I'm spending, so I bought a little notebook to try and keep some "books" on where it all is going.
Monday morning I hiked back over to the center of town, to the PIA offices, to make arrangements for a plane from Peshawar to Delhi. Crowd of around 80-100 turbaned, milling Afghanis out front, as at Iran Air, but I got the White Men Preferred treatment, and was whisked right in the door. It will be a close connection, the bus is supposed to arrive at Peshawar at around 4:00, the flight is at 6:15. Oof. I'm thinking it'll be nice to get off of the bus route, so I hope I make it. Also made a hotel reservation Monday night, so I'll just fall into a room with bath at the Kohrasan, and I left my heavy luggage there.
Monday afternoon I ran into Fabio, the Italian who made the connection for me to buy the hashish in Herat, on Chicken St. He invited me over to the hotel he is at with the Australian couple, Paul and Doll, and since I was feeling at a loss as to what to do with myself at night, I asked around and found their place.
Most of the cheap hotels in Afghanistan have not been built as hotels, but are converted from houses with courtyard and out-buildings. A pretty successful conversion. They are relatively cheap and clean, and are certainly cooler and quieter than a normal hotel, which will have a lot of rooms exposed to the sun and traffic noise. Fabio's hotel was another one of these, with a nice canopy built around a tree trunk, and chairs underneath. Cool breeze and a little conversation. Smoked some hash with Fabio, and Doll came out for a few minutes. Said Paul was pretty sick, and they suspected it was a cake that had some bad egg in it.
Up pretty promptly Tuesday morning, and off on the mini-bus to Bamiyan. Not much conversation on this trip. People might be getting pretty wore out, and low on the reserves of good cheer and sociability. Long and dusty ride up through the Hindu Kush, over a high pass, and then 2 hours winding down into this long valley that eventually widens and flattens out: Bamiyan.
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The bus unloaded all of us in the back court of the Hindu Kush Hotel, right under the Big Buddha. Immediately the owner of the hotel was on us, trying to hype tickets and rooms. I checked at two other hotels in town, and though I don't like the fellow at all, he made me the cheapest offer for a single room: 100 Afs/night. I took it, and was immediately buried in offers of tickets to Band-i-Amir at an inflated price, and offers to exchange money at ridiculous rates.
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Walked around just a bit, had dinner, and crashed. This morning right away, I hiked across the valley to the Bamiyan Hotel, where there is a bank, and cashed some traveler's checks. Had to subdue an attack of morning diarrhea with 2 lomotils, and when I got back from the bank, discovered that I had lost 1,000 Afs, probably while pulling my pants down in the john. Grr. $22.
Cruised the Big and Little Buddhas, but I was feeling pretty winded and weak, so I came back to the hotel. Manager or owner, whoever the guy is, tried to sell me a ticket to Band-i-Amir again, this time for 220 Afs. I got one from him for 100.
Doug, the American I met at the Yaqin Hotel in Herat, is here at the Hindu Kush, holed up, ill, with 2 male friends. Rapped with them for around an hour about illness, Afghanistan and The Trip.
Two new mini-bus loads of tourists arrived today, one carrying Paul and Doll, neither looking too happy.
Paul the Australian came around to the Hindu Kush later in the day, and found me in Doug's room again, rapping away. Being sick in Afghanistan is far and away the major topic. Paul is feeling a bit better, he thinks actually that it was the strawberries with the cake that made him ill. I'll stay away from baked and fried things anyway. Doug and his 2 friends, one Canadian and one American, say they'll go to a doctor right away back in Kabul for a diagnosis. They've been ill for 9 days.
Wednesday morning up early and into a truck with a crowd of Germans, to Band-i-Amir. Dusty and rough 3-hour ride farther off into the mountains from Bamiyan. I walked around the lakes for about 2 hours, then went back to one of the adobe and thatch-roof hotels to sit on the balcony and drink tea while waiting for the truck to go back, and ended up being stranded. Three or four trucks drove out from Bamiyan, but only one drove back. Three of the Germans got tossed off it because it was full, and were told to wait for the 3 o'clock truck, which I did too.
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3 o'clock came, there weren't enough riders to fill the truck, so the driver decided he wouldn't drive back to Bamiyan until the morning. There was lots of shouting and milling around in the dust. A kind taxi driver offered, exploiting our situation, to drive us back for 100 each. That made the 3 Germans angry, as it did me, and they decided to wait him out and see if he would drop to 60 Afs each. I was kind of nervous because I'd scheduled and paid ahead for 2 hotel rooms and 2 bus tickets, and booked the airplane flights, all of which would be lost if I couldn't make it back to Bamiyan that night. The taxi driver drove away and parked out of sight, playing the game with us.
After around an hour, 3 other Germans rigged out as an expedition in a VW bus turned up, and we got rides back with them. Fingered the taxi driver as we drove past. Had dinner with Paul and Doll (Darilynn) both that night and the night before, and ran into them again at a çay stop on the road back to Kabul. I may see them again in Kashmir. Left Bamiyan around 6AM and got back to Kabul at 1:00.
As we were loading up in front of the hotel, the same Germans that I got stranded with yesterady got into a real good shouting match with the Afghanis about crowding on the bus. The Germans were completely right, but there's no way to win.
Into the Khorasan Hotel tonight, and had dinner again at the Kabul Hotel.
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