The Adventures of Three Alpinists. 4-8-10
on Pam Kerruish (Tajikistan), 04/Aug/2010 14:20, 34 days ago
"Alpinists "being the Tajik reference to hill /mountain climbers. Of this more later.Some time ago, after my friend Julia and her partner Frank had decided to venture out here we planned that we should explore in The Fan Mountains. We learned that they are considerable mountains (tho not so high as the Pamirs )and being Alpine like, "one of the best kept secrets of Central Asia." That decided ,we agreed to meet in Dushanbe , have a look around, head for Iskanderkul Lake , do a trip into the Fan mountains and end up in Khojand .( I wanted them to see Degmai and my patch.)Our trip had all the ingredients of " The Tajik Experience " right from the beginning .I met Julia and Frank at their Guest House in Dushanbe just three Sundays ago- tho it seems a lifetime!-and we agreed that it was a priority to get their Airtickets back to Dushanbe from Khujand , where we would finish our exploring .In true Tajik style it wasnt possible - too early! I had heard that you now have to wait til 10 days before a flight to book a ticket, but this was just 9 days. Luckily 2 days , the time left when we finally arrived in Khujand, proved to be enough.The next day I tried to take them on the tourist trail . I wanted to show J and F a beautiful big Bhudda in the Museum of Antiquities - but it was closed - Monday. We tried the Agha Khan's Ismaili Centre - closed for "a meeting". ( its massive ! - but perhaps the Agha Khan was there.) I was beginning to feel like a very failed Guide but cheered myself up with the thought they were seeing the "true " Tajikistan.In fact at the time we all cheered ourselves up by going to the nearby Hyatt for a coffee. As we left we came across a gang of lads swimming nearby and noticed some were watching the water intently. When one of the dived his hand in quickly and pulled out a snake we realised why. It was a great prize which the boys all enjoyed inspecting. ( I think they would eat it.)I imagine that boys diving for snakes outside the Hyatt creates a confusing picture. I hope so as that is how it is here.Any way we decided to go to the Botanical Gardens as Frank is interested in trees, birds and flowers and that proved worthwhile.As we had left our failed mission to the Museum I had bumped into a Tajik girl I know from Khojand, which was quite a suprise ,but I was in for a bigger suprise in the Gardens when we bumped into Abdul ,the guide Annie, Pip ,Irene andI had had in Penjikent ,showing a group of Austrian's around. A small world.We saw a wedding party in the Gardens which was another bit of local culture we were lucky to come across.It seems that every town has its place where the Bride and Groom go to be photographed leaving the Bride's flowers -tho I didnt see her leave them in the gardens- perhaps they are just for photographs. Anyway in a tiny lull in the proceedings the Groom was off speaking on his mobile phone - very Tajik.Before the trip we had discussed the possibility of any one of us getting the dreaded "Tajik Tummy" and I had concluded that I was the least likely candidate . Hah!We hadn't even left town and I was beginning to feel pretty fragile so I suggested that Julia and Frank should go out to eat on their own that night ( I did not want to make matters worse).We had deliberately avoided Tajik food up to that point -which is possible in Dushanbe, tho nowhere else.Anyway the next day dawned bright and sunny ( as it does in these parts ) and I sat at the entrance of the VSO house waiting for the arrival of JandF in the landcruiser we had booked, complete with driver and translator.When they were over half an hour late I rang to find they had been told the company were"on their way". A little later we gave up hope and I rang Ashleigh , the VSO volunteer in tourism who ( indirectly)dealt with our bookings and she chased it up . As a result I was phoned by a very nice young lady , Gangina , who said the RAV4 and the driver would be there soon . Ignoring the reference to the RAV4 ( you can't have everything)I asked about the interpreter and she soothingly said it was OK, we could meet him in Panjikent when we arrived.As Panjikent was not on our itinerary I began to get a bit rattled. Suffice to say 3 hours later I met our driver + landcruiser and our translator at a well known landmark ,not the Guest house as planned ,as they has only just heard about this trip. The translator had been in the market buying tomatoes when he was called and the driver waiting for his next long distance passengers. On the "small world" theme -Guess what? I had met him before too. He had driven me ,Annie et al from Panjikent to Khojand a few weeks ago. He probably thinks all I do is travel about . Anyway he recognised me first and I was delighted as , as Tajik drivers go, he is one of the safer ones. He was called Zookir and the translator David .( sort of )At last ! we were on our way. When we got to Iskanderkul we were driven by the lake( quite nice - not amazing) and on to our homestay. This was a basic , but comfortable home with good guests - some lovely Swiss people- and a bad ( but not the worst ) toilet. It has a great showeroom/ sauna set up which I cannot describe adequately but which was good and effective. The Swiss put us to shame with their knowledge of English and they were generally good company.I think this makes the river look wider than it was - but it seemed quite wide enough when we were trying to get back!When we were settled in we back- tracked to the lake and walked along a river to an impressive waterfall, Julia and I detouring for a ride across the river on a funny trolley thing of pulleys and handles .Zookir was clearly in "boys own" mode and enjoyed showing it to us. When we got to the Waterfall we found a kind of "Wishing Tree"covered in ribbons. Very like the Irish type grottos you sometimes see. I thought it very un -Islamic but have been told since that most people practice "folk Islam " here - which explains a lot.I'm glad to say thatI didnt realize that the waterfall "viewing platform" was held on by boulders til we were on our way back. The waterfall begins to the right and thunders below the platform.The Wishing Tree.When we eventually came to go to bed we were all put in the same room which I would also have thought un-Islamic. Anyway, we all slept well and were ready to face the next days adventures - which included Death Tunnel.{But not before returning to get my computer which I had left at the front of the homestay. Thank goodness the boy's telephones were working -mine didn't get a signal - but they saved the day. ( why did I have my computer ? I think I thought I was going to write this as we went along, but with no signal that was that. )death tunnel with the exit in sight.Death Tunnel ( as dubbed by expats) is the Anzob tunnel which is one of two which will connect North Tajikistan with the south. ( the second isn't finished. ) It was extraordinary in that it wasnt lit, there were workmen working in there , it was full of holes marked by biggish stones around them ( instead of cones)and traffic approaching in the opposite direction was weaving its way about just as we were ,trying to avoid the holes. Ah yes - it was also wet. I have heard the water can be feet deep though so we were lucky it was just a couple of inches in places. It didn't feel particularly dangerous ( well, actually life threatening )but it certainly didn't meet any Health and Safety regulations!Well, we were finally approaching the Fan Mountains and the Grandly named "Artuch Base Camp"which was to be our base while we went off trekking .It wasnt a promising start. It had been bright sunny and hot in Dushanbe but in Artuch it was raining, cooler and generally miserable - with little to see because of the mist. Our greeting was non -existent , the Tajiks being so pleased to meet with cousins that they forgot about us for a while. Too long in my opinion. They finally got round to showing us our pretty basic "lodge" -no bathroom or shower -and pointed to the toilets about 100metres away. ( not good. -a couple of days later we heard a member of another party declaring that using the camp toilets was the most undignified experience of his life! ) The director seemed to have headed off criticism of not having suitable facilities by beginning installing bathrooms, so on top of everything else the front of our lodge was a building site. Anyway , I told David that we should have been welcomed , not ignored and he seemed to take this on board. He knew nothing about the following day's arrangements( how could he ?) but he told us the Director would come and explain later . In the meantime he told us he had been instructed to " Keep you calm".Rather to my suprise the director did finally arrive and seemed to want to compensate for the mess ups by attending to detail - what did we want for breakfast ,dinner and tea throughout out adventure.Despite the glitches we got up the next day full of optimism about our walk in the Mountains. It was a beautiful day and the camp site looked much better now we could see beauty all around.We had arranged to have two donkeys to carry our tents and food and the plan was that we would trek (led by a Guide )and camp higher up for two nights. We had seen a nice gradual path leave the base camp and assumed we would be following that - not a steep footpath which seemed to lead to serious mountains. Consequently we were a little alarmed when we saw the donkeys go off on their own in the preferred direction. ( at this point I should say that I had meant to train for this adventure and I did do one long walk but then it got too hot and I could hardly walk to the bus stop, so that was that. In addition at the point of departure I was still not over confident that my insides would behave so I was not what you would call in good nick.- Enough excuses! )As you will have guessed by now, we set off to climb the steep track into the mountains, none of us voicing our fears ,and still hoping that once we'd got to the top of this it would be pleasant horizontalish tracks to our destination. ( we agreed afterwards that if we had known what we were in for we wouldn't have set out.)We met a very nice man from Dushanbe during this first bit , a writer.Apparently he is quite well known.We sat under a tree with him and his party ( "have a rest" ) and it was very pleasant.Just what we needed to lull us into a false sense of comfort. At the top of the first major slope we found two small very pretty lakes which we sat by for a bit , then it was onward and upward.Setting out - near the top of the first phase.Not long after we had got going again we came across a shepherds camp in the hills. We had read that we would be offered hospitality and sure enough we were - Kaffir, a kind of Yoghurt drink. It was good and we all enjoyed it. The bit that fascinated me about this camp was what I came to call "Tapestry houses. "We saw these again on a couple of occasions. They are the summer houses of the shepherds which are evidently made out of any scraps of material available.Some of their houses had stone walls to about 3 feet but none looked very substantial.Anyway our next encounter was with a small group of Russian speaking climbers.There was a woman with them who was the embodiment of climbing perfection. Petite, kitted out immaculately in huge big boots - and extremely superior! She looked at us with utter disdain and said something to our Guide about where we were going . When he told her she looked shocked and made some comment which he ignored. She hadn't failed to notice that I was wearing trainers ( my choice - I have perfectly good boots here) and that - worse - Julia was carrying a large metallic purple bag which she has used as a beach bag, as a day pack. Fortunately our Guide didn't have expensive climbing kit - ordinary boots and a very old rucksack- so he evidently didn't set too much store by it.Anyway we began to toil up this hill ( and I really was beginning to toil - it was becoming very hard) when we came across Aqualegia by a stream!I wouldn't have noticed if Frank hadn't pointed it our but it was lovely to see them and reminded me of home.I was struggling by now and had to take a lot of rests before getting to the top and spotting the wonderful Guide by another lake setting out a really good spread for us. I would have relaxed and thoroughly enjoyed this meal if it had marked our high point , but I couldn't help noticing that we had reached a steep and forbidding scree slope running up from one side of the lake. I asked which way we went next and, yes , sure enough, it was up the scree. I really wasnt sure if I'd make it on the basis of the previous 20minutes but persuaded myself that if I took it slowly I could get to the top and then it would be all down hill. I knew my knees wouldn't like that but my heart and lungs would be happy.Struggling up the Scree.To my suprise it wasn't as bad as I had expected and I started to feel well for the first time in days...............................................That didn't last long. When we got to the top - you've guessed it - there was another considerable slope ahead. ( with a little snow on ) But it wasn't as easy as just starting again -we had to climb over a hundred yards or so of huge boulders before getting to the walkable bit. And then it started to rain. .....We sheltered in a bit of a cave ( where Julia fantasised about doing a bit of Cave Painting for some poor naieve , and probably exhausted, climber to find a hundred years hence)....and emerged to have this picture taken. Note that I am supporting myself with my hand - I didn't trust my legs to hold me.I knew the next slope would , in VSO speak , be " a challenge". I decided to zig -zag my way up this section, remembering as I did Dad taking me up Barrule when I was quite small and showing me that we should zig -zag " and then we'll beat the others. "( I have no idea if we did or not , but we got to the top and that was all I needed to do here. )JOY and rapture ! - that was it. Now it really was all downhill to Lake Khulon ( big lake ) way down below us. Julia , bravely , in my opinion, took the Guides arm and she seemed to skip effortlessly down the side of the mountain. I shuffled and stumbled followed by Frank and David -who never stopped talking the whole time and who taxed Frank's knowledge of English by asking him about any and every word which came into his head. Now I was going downhill I earwigged and enjoyed Franks tackful explanations of "bad words" .We still didnt know where we were camping but we now thought we could make it - but there were further trials. We had to cross a river at the bottom. The Guide had gone ahead to set up camp and we were left with David who tried to persuade us to jump on a rock on which he was firmly planted - leaving no room for the invading jumper - so we declined. I eventually paddled ,followed by Julia -and Frank did a death defying leap. Then it was along the path at the lakeside around the corner and ...........our campsite! Hurray! In the fading daylightwe were met by the man I later found was the landowner of the land, our host . But when he shook my hand vigorously I thought he musthave been the donkey man, waiting for our arrival and relieved to see us..Anyway we soon realized who was who and were welcomed into the hosts ridge tent to eat. We said our prayers afterwards and then he took us to the entrance to the tent and indicated a rock which marked the beginning of the toilet area. Probably as far away as the loos at the Base Camp but it all felt much cleaner.We found that this gentleman and his wife stayed in the mountains each summer . He had had a varied career , mainly as a teacher I think, and was a really warm hearted character. He told us how he had fallen in love with his wife and pursued her and how she had fallen for him too. He had two neices and a nephew staying with him. Initially I thought that they must have led a very isolated life in the mountains but I soon learned that actually the camp site was a branch of the UN what with Swiss , Czech and Dutch climbers arriving in the space of next day.One of the Czechs looked as if he had just walked out of a climber's magazine. He wore quite fitted all black gear except for flashes of yellow on his boot tongues and heels and a bandana of the exact same yellow. He looked at us with as disdain just as as we looked at him with wry amusement . Because, ah yes, despite our un-professional clothing ,our lack of training and our general lack of fitness we had by now assumed the title "Alpinists." We reckoned we deserved it. In fact, we had climbed from Artuch 2060 metres to the pass in the mountains at 3340 metres ie 1280metres or 4,200 feet -and then dropped down quite a bit to the lake.Anyway , I think we all thought we would sleep like logs and just before we fell asleep we heard the children in the family sing. Lovely .However that idyll didn't last long as it was very cold( we put clothes on to go to bed) the ground was very hard and a tethered donkey broke lose and thundered through the tents and them brayed to its friend all night.The next day dawned beautifully clear . The pleasure of looking out on our beautiful surroundings was made even better by David bringing us tea in bed .The night before we had thought we would never walk for pleasure ever again but after realizing how beautiful it was we decided that we had to explore.We had a magical day. I did some washing in the lake , David mounted the poor donkey ,and off we set. We went through lovely country with more small lakes and eventually came across a shepherd with a lot of sheep and goats. He and two others ( a man and a boy ) were hand shearing .Minutes after our arrival he offered to kill a goat for us ( an offer we declined ) and , having been properly hospitable I think he was happy to go back to his work. I asked if I could take a photograph of his campsite tho' and this seemed to prompt him to accompany us . ( not my intention. )He arrived as we did and went to something which I took to be a cows stomach which had sheeps milk fermenting in it. He said after two days in the sun it was ready. He gave us a cup of this stuff - which David and the guide were wolfing down and when I'd taken just a small sip I was nearly sick. Forewarned, Julia was suitably cautious and took very little so it was up to poor Frank to drink a decent amount. Manfully he did -and saved the day! The shepherd then made us tea and gave us sweets ( you never get far away from sweets In Tajikistan I dont think) before we made our way back.Julia leading the way back to camp.We lounged around watching the new arrivals and resting and wondering at our luck. Being relatively healthy ,wealthy enough to have this adventure, living in peace and prosperity etc etc. Not priviledges that many Tajiks have enjoyed or can enjoy.Any way the next day we struck camp leisurely and then were told to walk quickly! That is until the guide met a friend and stopped to sit and chat with him.At one point Frank noted a really pretty lone poppy. He called to us to come and look at it and as we did David bent down, picked it and presented it to Julia!We teasingly told David it had been the last one on the planet but he didn't appreciate his fauxpas at all. And we saw an eagle! We had probably seen one in the Iskanderkul area but I was far more convinced by this one.He soared above usvery majestically for enough time to really appreciate him.As we had a bit more breath on the way down than on the way up we started to sing and the Guides taught us two Tajik songs. It was really nice.And there we were - we had made it! ( apparently to the relief of the director.) He met us and told us Ashleigh was on the site. ( another amazing coincidence really, but it just felt like a lovely suprise. ) We met her when she had come back from her trek and found that she was hosting a German film star for one of the German NGO's publicity films. She said how difficult it was to convey the reality of serious poverty in the country when they could hardly ever film anywhere without people appearing on their mobile phones.At this point I should say that I am not a particularly enthusiastic photographer- I dont take pictures of everything I see. But I had taken a LOT of photos on this trip because it was worth it. So when we arrived at Camp and settled to sort ourselves out a bit I decided to look at my photos an delete repeats etc. I was most suprised when , with the press of a button ,I deleted the lot! If you had asked me to I couldn't have done it honestly. I was mad as I've lost some really good photos but not so mad as I may have been as Frank took lots and will let me have them.So now it was onward and upward -on the map .We left on time next day and made out way over the impressive Shariston pass on our way to Khojand. We took in the statue of Lenin on our way.But the thing that probably impressed us most wasthe madness of the drivers. We saw two bad accidents on our way and a lot more bad driving. Tajiks think nothing of overtaking someone who is already overtaking - with no consideration that someone may be doing the same coming the other way. And when they film a wedding car ( and it must be filmed driving along a road -tho you cant see anyone inside ) the cameraman leans out of the passenger side of a lead car and the following cars drive wide of the bride and groom-like escorts. And all this on busy , fast , dangerous main roads. ( the equivalent at home would be a motorway. )Despite the hazards we arrived safe and sound and found that Phillip, from Derby, had booked himself into the same hotel as Julia and Frank.Julia is a Derby girl, so it wasn't long before they found people and places in common.Our last morning was spent in Degmai where nothing went to plan either ,but where Julia and Frank got stuck in and got a sense of the place.divThen a quick whisk on the tourist trail and Julia and Frank were off the next day.We packed an enormous amount in in a pretty short time but it was a brilliant adventure and one I feel priviledged to have shared with two fellow Alpinists! Pamx