July 19, 2004

Khorog, anyone? anyone?

Pamir Tales - Part 3

Murghab, Tajikistan

After some yummy tea and bread for breakfast it was off to the militsia to get registered. I still didn't have a permit for travelling in this region and official channels say that it's only available in Dushanbe, on the other side of the country. Word-of-mouth had it that you could get the permit here though so I thought I'd try. If I fail I'll have to go back all the way to Kyrgyzstan. Aye, carumba!

I found the militsia station and went in. The nice lady only spoke Russian (and Tajik) but managed to convey that, since I was just travelling through, I should get my permit and registration in Khorog, another 300km down the road and my objective for today. She gave me a hand-written note on a scrap of paper to give to the checkpoint out of town.

As I left I was immediately accosted in the street by a very shady looking character claiming to be from the KGB. "Registraya", he would say and start pulling me towards a building. "Nyet", I said, "registraya militsia Khorog", thinking that it was just a scam to collect some "fee" from me. We went on this way for some time until finally a uniformed guy came out. Okay, I thought, I'll concede. I followed the uniform in to the building and was escorted to a room where the gentleman proceeded to copy my passport details onto a scrap of paper, already full of all sorts of random scribblings. Still, it didn't cost anything and just took a moment.

Then down to the bazar to try for a lift of some sort. Any buses? Already gone (if there actually was one). Cars? Hmmm, not much activity there. One couple was going to Alichur, about 100km down the road, but I thought I'd try my chances up on the main road.

I didn't have to wait long before a mini-bus turned up. It had half-a-dozen army guys and when I said "Khorog?" they said hop in. Off we go but we stop at the checkpoint about 20km out of town. They drop me off and return to turn with assurances that everything has to stop at this checkpoint so I'm sure to get a lift.

The three checkpoint guards invite me in to their little hut and are soon cooking lunch and ratting through my backpack for interesting things to read. The guidebook is always a good standby. Lots of pictures and maps. As we share lunch I keep looking hopefully out the window for any vehicles heading south. Nothing.

As the day wears on a bunch of trucks begin to turn up heading in the other direction. Now I see the guards in action. Cars are given a fairly cursory inspection but trucks get the complete works. Every compartment is checked, the front seats are lifted out, and the fire extinguisher has to be shown to be full of foam. It takes at least half-an-hour a vehicle.

Meanwhile there's still nothing in my direction.

Finally, at 4pm I decide to cut my losses. At least back in town I might be able to pay someone to go all the way. It seems no-one is heading south on their own initiative. I hitch a lift with one of the north bound trucks and soon find myself back in Murghab. Outside the bazar is just as quiet as before. Nothing's going to be happening today.

I pick up my pack and head back to the house I stayed in last night, buying a watermelon first by way of a gift. I hope I can stay again.

Any concern about my welcome was quickly dispelled upon my arrival on the doorstep. They seemed positively thrilled that I was back again and would stay for another night. Almost made it worth being stuck in Murghab.

Posted by David at July 19, 2004 10:04 PM