Here I am once again, feeling as fit as a fiddle with no strings, with a new tale of thrills and spills in downtown Kabul.
On Friday, I went to the zoo. Well, me and my driver and my armed guard went to the zoo for a day (well, an hour) out. A fine time was had by all. Actually my plan was to visit the Kabul museum and this cultural event was something I was looking forward to, but I am sorry to report it is closed on Friday, so please if you are thinking of going next Friday - DON'T, it ain't open.
But all was not lost Zabi, pointed out the zoo as we passed it on the way to the museum and so that was our target now.
We parked up outside and headed off to the ticket booth. 10Afs each, oh except the khoragi (thats us foreigners) 100Afs to me. (Ok that is a whole £1). Off the three of us trotted. The question is, where should your armed guard be, beside you, in front of you or behind you. Well, I thought he was behind me, but when I turned round he had disappeared. Apparently gone off to the loo. For a full two minutes I was at the mercy of any Taleban snatch squads that happened to be patrolling Kabul zoo. Actually part of the reason I went to Kabul zoo was because every khoragi I told I was going to the zoo said "why would you want to go there" and no-one had been. So I thought it would be a good place to go and mingle with Afghans instead of endless expats. And so it was, which also makes it a very safe place. If you were looking for Khoragi to kidnap or kill, you really would not hang around the zoo!!!!!
I digress (one of my big regrets is not getting a piccie of me and guard at the monkey house). Anyway, we went round the zoo, there were a number of bears, monkeys,various birds including some huge owls, an aquarium, gazelles and a collection of ducks (Mallards and Aylesburys) It made me quite homesick for Lane End pond.
So we had a good wander round and enjoyed the animals. I will say it will not win any awards for the pens etc the animals are in, but they are not anywhere near as bad as I expected, particularly considering the area it is in and the devastation all around it. Yes, there are parts of the zoo you have to climb over the rubble to get round, and a lot of concrete in the pens, but these are difficult circumstances. The animals are certainly better off than many of the people I have seen here.
However, the animals were not the real entertainment.You see the zoo, like most zoos is full of families, Mums, Dads and children and many of them were having picnics. This seems pretty straightforward until you realise the women are wearing the obligatory Burkhas. This covers them from the head down to the feet with a fine mesh grill to see through, and no mouth hole. So food disappears up under the Burkha, not sure what happens then!!
When we got back to the house there was the tinkling of the ice cream man walking down the road with his ice cream barrel. This was too much of a chance to miss, so I treated Zabi, the guard and the guard outside the house to ice creams. He opened the barrel and it was full of Magnums.!!!! Exactly the same as at home but a bit smaller and only 30p. Oh yes and they were almost melted. We all had one, mine almost slipped off the stick and I had to devour it in one mouthful, one of the guards opened the packet and it just fell off onto the floor. He complained and the mother of all arguments raged for the next 5 mins. The ice cream seller became completely irate and would not even SELL us another ice cream let alone replace the fallen one. Eventually he stomped of deliberatley running his cart over the ice cream on the floor to prove some sort of point.
So there it was, a day with the Afghans. Great fun.
Ask me about my new bedside table, there is another story that will show you how bored I am!!!
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Istanbul
Now, where was I?
As you know I arrived in Istanbul 3 hours early and Sarah 1 hour late, so in total I was at Istanbul airport 6 hours waiting. Not so bad, there is even (and Clair you will be pleased to know this) a Starbucks and a Burger King in Istanbul airport. However, a 6 hour wait was not what my deteriorating bowels required.
So to conclude this chapter without further details I can say that I spent my first 24hours in Istanbul in bed for all the wrong reasons!
Istanbul is a wonderful place where East meets West, Asia meets Europe, Islam meets Christianity. The city is part in Europe and part in Asia, split by the Bosphorous with its great Russian container ships and tankers plying their way up to the Black Sea. Of course, in the days of the cold war, Istanbul was also a place of great intrigue where the West could monitor the movements of the Soviet fleet in and out of its only accesible winter ports on the Black Sea.
We visited the Blue Mosque, the Hagia Sophia, the Topkapi Palace as well as a delightful rooftop restaurant and a magical trip by boat across the Bosphorous to Asia for a lovely restaurant one evening.
The visit was over too quickly and time to head back to the airport. Now you will, of course, remember I arrived early and had a 6 hour wait. SO it is only right that I would depart late (delayed from 11pm to 1am, the next morning) and again have the pleasure of Istanbul airport for a full 8 hours rest and relaxation.
The plane back to Kabul was the same plane as the one I arrived on. This time I declined all offers of food and tried to sleep the whole way back, arriving at 7am, just in time for work!! Oh yes, did I tell you the back half of the plane was occupied by about 20 blokes all in pairs handcuffed together with guards at front and back!!
I can't tell what how good it felt to be back in Kabul, I can't tell you because it didn't!!! But here I am again folks.
Tomorrow I shall tell you of the "Great Security Breach", oh, and Clair, I will tell you more about shopping in Downtown Kabul!!!
As you know I arrived in Istanbul 3 hours early and Sarah 1 hour late, so in total I was at Istanbul airport 6 hours waiting. Not so bad, there is even (and Clair you will be pleased to know this) a Starbucks and a Burger King in Istanbul airport. However, a 6 hour wait was not what my deteriorating bowels required.
So to conclude this chapter without further details I can say that I spent my first 24hours in Istanbul in bed for all the wrong reasons!
Istanbul is a wonderful place where East meets West, Asia meets Europe, Islam meets Christianity. The city is part in Europe and part in Asia, split by the Bosphorous with its great Russian container ships and tankers plying their way up to the Black Sea. Of course, in the days of the cold war, Istanbul was also a place of great intrigue where the West could monitor the movements of the Soviet fleet in and out of its only accesible winter ports on the Black Sea.
We visited the Blue Mosque, the Hagia Sophia, the Topkapi Palace as well as a delightful rooftop restaurant and a magical trip by boat across the Bosphorous to Asia for a lovely restaurant one evening.
The visit was over too quickly and time to head back to the airport. Now you will, of course, remember I arrived early and had a 6 hour wait. SO it is only right that I would depart late (delayed from 11pm to 1am, the next morning) and again have the pleasure of Istanbul airport for a full 8 hours rest and relaxation.
The plane back to Kabul was the same plane as the one I arrived on. This time I declined all offers of food and tried to sleep the whole way back, arriving at 7am, just in time for work!! Oh yes, did I tell you the back half of the plane was occupied by about 20 blokes all in pairs handcuffed together with guards at front and back!!
I can't tell what how good it felt to be back in Kabul, I can't tell you because it didn't!!! But here I am again folks.
Tomorrow I shall tell you of the "Great Security Breach", oh, and Clair, I will tell you more about shopping in Downtown Kabul!!!
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Escape to Istanbul
You may think that a title like "Escape to Istanbul" is just a tad dramatic, but believe me, that is exactly how it felt. I shall relate the intrepid story of derring-do and you can judge for yourself.
So, here we are; it is 4.30am all is quiet in Kabul, it is pitch black and the alarm goes off. The driver is coming at 5am and my flight is at 7am, what could possibly go wrong. I packed last night, I even had a little present stashed away in my bag, all I need is a "sh.., shower and shave" and I shall be on my way. One small but important point, no make that two small, but important points. We have no electricity and we have no water, making all 3 of the above rather less than attractive. I am sorry but this toilet thing will crop up again in this post.
So we head off to the airport which is closed until 5.30am and join a long and rather noisy queue on the approach road. Once we start moving we come to the first army checkpoint which appears to only exist for the annoyance of passengers. They peer into the car, then knock on the window. We open the door (you can't wind down windows in armoured cars) and the say "Eid, Mubarak" (Happy Eid) and hold out their hands. We then proceed to the first police checkpoint where I have to get out of the vehicle and carry the bags into a hut where they go through a scanner. The nice man who scans the bag then puts out his hand and says "Eid Mubarak". I pick up my bag and return to the vehicle where a soldier blocks my way and points me back to the hut. I return to the hut and we go through the same ritual. Finally, I am allowed back into the vehicle and we drive on, until we reach the car park. I then leave the car and driver and walk towards the airport building. To get out of the car park I have to show my passport and ticket to another policeman who says, well you know what he says, don't you?
I then walk across from the car park to the terminal building where there are soldiers outside. I show them my passport and ticket, they look at my bags and thrust out a hand and say.....
Once I have passed them I go to the emigration desk where I have to pay 500Afs to leave the country. No problem, except for the soldier who is standing next to the office who thrusts out his hand and says....
Slowly we are making progress. To get to the check-in desk it is necessary to go through a security check of bags and persons which is carried out with the customary greeting and hand offering. At check-in there is a nice man who puts my bag on the check in scales to our now familiar and customary greeting. Having finally got rid of my bags I head for the departure gate. I will not bore with even yet more details, but suffice to say I passed two more police desks and finally got to passport control. This was manned by a gentleman that took so long over each passport that I timed him. (Yes I realise that is a bit sad, but I was getting a little irritated at this point). He took 7, yes seven, minutes to scrutinise my passport, tap his keyboard, wave my passport in front of some mysterious machine and finally stamp it and wave me through. However, things were about to rather significantly speed up!!
Even though the flight was due to leave at 7am and we did not leave until 7.50am. Ariana Afghan Airlines managed to get me to Istanbul 3 HOURS EARLY. This could be due to incredible high tail winds, a fantastic new super fast plane or simply that we were supposed to fly to Baku and Ankara on the way. But instead we went straight to Istanbul and cut out all that fiddling about. Suited me fine, but really upset the people who wanted to go to Baku and Ankara!! So I arrived 3 hours early. Meanwhile, Sarah travelling on intrepid, super reliable, worlds favourite airline, British Airways arrived 1 hour late!!! I note just a hint of irony in that.
Now, I may be 3 hours early and I can hear you cheer this small victory, but of course, it was not all plain sailing (or should that be plane flying!!)
The plane was a very early Airbus 300. Apparently it was given to Afghan Airlines by the Indian Government because Pakistan had given Afghanistan a fleet of buses and India did not want to be outdone!! I don't think anything had been fixed or cleaned on this plane for years, it was foul, but it flew, took off well, made a good landing and got me there and back, so I am happy, but you just knew there would be a story attached!!
I don't know whether it was the plane meal or something else, but within an hour of taking off I was heading for the toilet with, shall we say, loose bowels.
There is no toilet paper in the loo, the door does not lock and I am trying to hover over the toilet without any physical contact. Next thing I know there is banging on the door and shouting from outside from the crew. The smoke alarm has gone off for some reason and the crew think I am having a crafty smoke. So now, if you can imagine the scene, I am trying to hover above the seat and direct my loose bowel movements into the bowl, jam one foot against the door to stop it bursting open from the banging outside, hold my trousers up from falling onto the floor into the wet underfoot and tear up the cardboard centre of the remains of the toilet roll!! (Is this too much detail?). Anyway, to cut a long story to medium, the alarm stopped, the banging on the door stopped and something approaching sanity resumed.
On that note, I too shall resume tomorrow, with happy tales of Istanbul.
So, here we are; it is 4.30am all is quiet in Kabul, it is pitch black and the alarm goes off. The driver is coming at 5am and my flight is at 7am, what could possibly go wrong. I packed last night, I even had a little present stashed away in my bag, all I need is a "sh.., shower and shave" and I shall be on my way. One small but important point, no make that two small, but important points. We have no electricity and we have no water, making all 3 of the above rather less than attractive. I am sorry but this toilet thing will crop up again in this post.
So we head off to the airport which is closed until 5.30am and join a long and rather noisy queue on the approach road. Once we start moving we come to the first army checkpoint which appears to only exist for the annoyance of passengers. They peer into the car, then knock on the window. We open the door (you can't wind down windows in armoured cars) and the say "Eid, Mubarak" (Happy Eid) and hold out their hands. We then proceed to the first police checkpoint where I have to get out of the vehicle and carry the bags into a hut where they go through a scanner. The nice man who scans the bag then puts out his hand and says "Eid Mubarak". I pick up my bag and return to the vehicle where a soldier blocks my way and points me back to the hut. I return to the hut and we go through the same ritual. Finally, I am allowed back into the vehicle and we drive on, until we reach the car park. I then leave the car and driver and walk towards the airport building. To get out of the car park I have to show my passport and ticket to another policeman who says, well you know what he says, don't you?
I then walk across from the car park to the terminal building where there are soldiers outside. I show them my passport and ticket, they look at my bags and thrust out a hand and say.....
Once I have passed them I go to the emigration desk where I have to pay 500Afs to leave the country. No problem, except for the soldier who is standing next to the office who thrusts out his hand and says....
Slowly we are making progress. To get to the check-in desk it is necessary to go through a security check of bags and persons which is carried out with the customary greeting and hand offering. At check-in there is a nice man who puts my bag on the check in scales to our now familiar and customary greeting. Having finally got rid of my bags I head for the departure gate. I will not bore with even yet more details, but suffice to say I passed two more police desks and finally got to passport control. This was manned by a gentleman that took so long over each passport that I timed him. (Yes I realise that is a bit sad, but I was getting a little irritated at this point). He took 7, yes seven, minutes to scrutinise my passport, tap his keyboard, wave my passport in front of some mysterious machine and finally stamp it and wave me through. However, things were about to rather significantly speed up!!
Even though the flight was due to leave at 7am and we did not leave until 7.50am. Ariana Afghan Airlines managed to get me to Istanbul 3 HOURS EARLY. This could be due to incredible high tail winds, a fantastic new super fast plane or simply that we were supposed to fly to Baku and Ankara on the way. But instead we went straight to Istanbul and cut out all that fiddling about. Suited me fine, but really upset the people who wanted to go to Baku and Ankara!! So I arrived 3 hours early. Meanwhile, Sarah travelling on intrepid, super reliable, worlds favourite airline, British Airways arrived 1 hour late!!! I note just a hint of irony in that.
Now, I may be 3 hours early and I can hear you cheer this small victory, but of course, it was not all plain sailing (or should that be plane flying!!)
The plane was a very early Airbus 300. Apparently it was given to Afghan Airlines by the Indian Government because Pakistan had given Afghanistan a fleet of buses and India did not want to be outdone!! I don't think anything had been fixed or cleaned on this plane for years, it was foul, but it flew, took off well, made a good landing and got me there and back, so I am happy, but you just knew there would be a story attached!!
I don't know whether it was the plane meal or something else, but within an hour of taking off I was heading for the toilet with, shall we say, loose bowels.
There is no toilet paper in the loo, the door does not lock and I am trying to hover over the toilet without any physical contact. Next thing I know there is banging on the door and shouting from outside from the crew. The smoke alarm has gone off for some reason and the crew think I am having a crafty smoke. So now, if you can imagine the scene, I am trying to hover above the seat and direct my loose bowel movements into the bowl, jam one foot against the door to stop it bursting open from the banging outside, hold my trousers up from falling onto the floor into the wet underfoot and tear up the cardboard centre of the remains of the toilet roll!! (Is this too much detail?). Anyway, to cut a long story to medium, the alarm stopped, the banging on the door stopped and something approaching sanity resumed.
On that note, I too shall resume tomorrow, with happy tales of Istanbul.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Ramadan, Eid and Beggars.
Where have you been?
You may well ask of your intrepid blogger who, frankly, has been leading such a boring life in Kabul that I ran out of things to say.
BUT, you wil be pleased to know I escaped the prison, sneaked off to Istanbul for a weekend and now, returned, sit before you revived, refreshed, half a stone lighter (I will come to that, but you are warned it is not pretty) and full to bursting point with old tat and nonsense. So, are you sitting comfortably?
First, I want to get out of my system to squash court situation. As you both know there is only one squash court in the whole of Kabul and this is the concrete walled and floored court at UNICA. Now, I realise that it could be argued that a bad squash court is better than no squash court, but this one has a floor as slippery as a icew rink on a slippery day AND membership s $60 per month. Even at $2 to the £1 that is £30 per month to play squash on an ice rink, PLUS $8 court fee. I ask you is that fair, is that reasonable, is that humanitarian, is that a UN rip off!! No wonder they have such huge expenses accounts, that is nearly half my monthly allowance.
Let us wind the clock back two weeks to the last week of Ramadan. Ramadan, I am sure you all know is the Moslem month of fasting from sunrise to sunset. At the end of Ramadan is the festival of Eid, which is similar to the Christian Christmas. Families get together, lots of food is eaten, presents are swapped and everyone is happy for 3 days. So, as Eid is a holiday I had arranged to meet Sarah in Istanbul, her flying in from London and me from Kabul. We had arranged flights so I arrived 1 hour before her at Istanbul International, but I am getting ahead of myself here.
The week before Eid, I went shopping in downtown Kabul with my trusty assistant Dr. Najeeb as guide and chief adviser on the cost of stuff. Anyway we went shopping to get a pressie for Sarah. Dr. N was so sweet, as he insisted on buying her a present as well. Anyway, I digress. As you can imagine there are a lot of beggars in Kabul, and as always some more deserving than others, so I checked with Dr. N and the going rate is 10-20 Afghanis is a reasonable contribution. (For comparison, bread is 3Afs so 20Afs represents nearly 7 pieces). This all went well, although begging is very aggressive. As I got back into the car a woman positioned herself in the door of the car, stopping me from closing the door until I paid up, so I gave her 20Afs. She looked at it, screwed her face up, shouted at me, tore it up and threw it on the floor in front of me. I closed the door and we drove off.
That evening was the end of Ramadan and the night bfore Eid. In Kabul, there are only 2 bars with alcohol. Many restaurants where you need to have a meal but only 2 bars where you can simply get a drink. Fortunately, one of them is about 500 yards away in the next street. Now, I have told you before about how dark it is and that the electricity goes off and anyway there are no street lights and there are high walls everywhere and it is very quiet on the streets and that we are supposed to travel everywhere in armoured cars and not walk anywhere for fear of kidnap and being shot/blown up. So when we walk round the corner to the bar it is quite an adventure, especially if a taxi slows down beside you to see if you need a ride and you cannot see if it is a taxi or a kidnapper. Anyway, it adds some spice to a very boring existance. The point of this story is that to celebrate Eid people let off firecrackers. Now this would be OK, except that it is very nerve wracking when you walk round the corner in the dark and people drop firecrackers from balconies above you so they go off right behind you. Curiously, Afghans seem to think it is funny!!There I got to the point in the end.
Well, I seem to have written quite a lot and not got to the excitement of the trip to Istanbul, so I will hold that back for you.
Will write again soon.
You may well ask of your intrepid blogger who, frankly, has been leading such a boring life in Kabul that I ran out of things to say.
BUT, you wil be pleased to know I escaped the prison, sneaked off to Istanbul for a weekend and now, returned, sit before you revived, refreshed, half a stone lighter (I will come to that, but you are warned it is not pretty) and full to bursting point with old tat and nonsense. So, are you sitting comfortably?
First, I want to get out of my system to squash court situation. As you both know there is only one squash court in the whole of Kabul and this is the concrete walled and floored court at UNICA. Now, I realise that it could be argued that a bad squash court is better than no squash court, but this one has a floor as slippery as a icew rink on a slippery day AND membership s $60 per month. Even at $2 to the £1 that is £30 per month to play squash on an ice rink, PLUS $8 court fee. I ask you is that fair, is that reasonable, is that humanitarian, is that a UN rip off!! No wonder they have such huge expenses accounts, that is nearly half my monthly allowance.
Let us wind the clock back two weeks to the last week of Ramadan. Ramadan, I am sure you all know is the Moslem month of fasting from sunrise to sunset. At the end of Ramadan is the festival of Eid, which is similar to the Christian Christmas. Families get together, lots of food is eaten, presents are swapped and everyone is happy for 3 days. So, as Eid is a holiday I had arranged to meet Sarah in Istanbul, her flying in from London and me from Kabul. We had arranged flights so I arrived 1 hour before her at Istanbul International, but I am getting ahead of myself here.
The week before Eid, I went shopping in downtown Kabul with my trusty assistant Dr. Najeeb as guide and chief adviser on the cost of stuff. Anyway we went shopping to get a pressie for Sarah. Dr. N was so sweet, as he insisted on buying her a present as well. Anyway, I digress. As you can imagine there are a lot of beggars in Kabul, and as always some more deserving than others, so I checked with Dr. N and the going rate is 10-20 Afghanis is a reasonable contribution. (For comparison, bread is 3Afs so 20Afs represents nearly 7 pieces). This all went well, although begging is very aggressive. As I got back into the car a woman positioned herself in the door of the car, stopping me from closing the door until I paid up, so I gave her 20Afs. She looked at it, screwed her face up, shouted at me, tore it up and threw it on the floor in front of me. I closed the door and we drove off.
That evening was the end of Ramadan and the night bfore Eid. In Kabul, there are only 2 bars with alcohol. Many restaurants where you need to have a meal but only 2 bars where you can simply get a drink. Fortunately, one of them is about 500 yards away in the next street. Now, I have told you before about how dark it is and that the electricity goes off and anyway there are no street lights and there are high walls everywhere and it is very quiet on the streets and that we are supposed to travel everywhere in armoured cars and not walk anywhere for fear of kidnap and being shot/blown up. So when we walk round the corner to the bar it is quite an adventure, especially if a taxi slows down beside you to see if you need a ride and you cannot see if it is a taxi or a kidnapper. Anyway, it adds some spice to a very boring existance. The point of this story is that to celebrate Eid people let off firecrackers. Now this would be OK, except that it is very nerve wracking when you walk round the corner in the dark and people drop firecrackers from balconies above you so they go off right behind you. Curiously, Afghans seem to think it is funny!!There I got to the point in the end.
Well, I seem to have written quite a lot and not got to the excitement of the trip to Istanbul, so I will hold that back for you.
Will write again soon.
Monday, October 01, 2007
I know you are desperate to know
You are, aren't you, go on admit it, you didn't sleep last night. You began to drift off then that niggling in the back of your mind started again and woke you up. Just as that soft, warm feeling of being enveloped by the quilt and you begin to sink into the mattress, just as the pillow softly hugs your head BANG!!! there it is again. Has the bloody embassy got a squash court on not.
Thanks for your solidarity dear reader, I am sorry I caused you so much worry leaving such an important thread hanging in the air. Well to put your mind at rest, the nice, polite man at the gate, he say No, we have no sports facilities. Now I am not sure I believe him, so I will try again. In the meantime you will also be saddened to know there are no Old Germans at the Old German Club as it has been turned into the Maple Leaf Inn, and no there is no squash court. So, we still have the concrete edifice that is UNICA.
There all is well in the world again and calm is resumed. Hope you sleep well tonight, I will.
Till the next time.
Thanks for your solidarity dear reader, I am sorry I caused you so much worry leaving such an important thread hanging in the air. Well to put your mind at rest, the nice, polite man at the gate, he say No, we have no sports facilities. Now I am not sure I believe him, so I will try again. In the meantime you will also be saddened to know there are no Old Germans at the Old German Club as it has been turned into the Maple Leaf Inn, and no there is no squash court. So, we still have the concrete edifice that is UNICA.
There all is well in the world again and calm is resumed. Hope you sleep well tonight, I will.
Till the next time.
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