The Bowels of Hell

I drove once before through the Aznob tunnel and, though I blogged about it then, I still feel the shere horror of the experience makes it worthy of another mention.
Albeit without the flames licking up around your ankles, the Aznob tunnel is the 3km mouth of hell. Semi built by the Iranians, the tunnel has been open for several years but it is still a very long way from completion. One narrow tunnel carries traffic in both directions and is also used to remove rubble generated by boring the second tunnel hat will ultimately run in parallel. Those piles of rubble extracted but not yet taken away are simply left as unlit obstacls in the obstacle course that is the carriageway.
The surface of the road is unmade and huge stretches are flooded with water,masking the po holes beneath. We crept along at a limp, still thunking against the rock more often than I'd like. We narrowly avoided the unmarked drill rig another heavy plant that appeared suddenly in the gloom, and held our collective breath each time a homicidal vehicle lurched from the darkness to swerve or overtake.
 Two thirds of the way through the tunnel we realised why completion is taking so long. Indeed, since my previous visit over a year ao it scarcely seemed to have advanced at all. The construction crew has no equipment - at least not any that is fit for the job. We passes half a dozen men digging with shovels; a second team was breaking up rocks with pick axes.
The icing on the cake, however, was the small. group of men attempting to chane one of thetunnel's ew but desperately needed lightbulbs. In the absence of a step ladder they had parked a Chinese-made digger across the road,completely blocking the traffic. We switched off the engine so as to reduce the risk of carbon monoxide poisoning and watched transfixed as the used the digger's bucket to lift two men the 10ft or so to the ceiling, enabling them to reach the bare wires.
Tajikistan is not a wealthy country - it is thepoorest of the Central Asian states - but the Aznob tunnel is still no less a national disgrace and a danger to all who drive through it or work inside it. The technology required to complete the job properly is not complicated and, as Chinese road crews across the region have shown, when properly organied this kind of project can be completed safely, cost-effectively and to a high standard. There is absoluely no excuse for this mess.   

Dushanbe Walking Tour

Amongst Central Asia's modern capitals, Dushanbe is unfairly maligned. The city may be relatively small and entirely lacking in nightlife but it is surprisingly more attractive than its larger, louder brethren.
The centre of Dushanbe is easily walkable: wide, straight boulevards cross the city in a slightly wonky grid formation, and the pavements are mostly well-maintained and clean. Subways assist pedestrians in crossing the larger inter-sections and, although few of the streets are sign posted, most of them seem to lead back to Rudaki (the main drag) sooner or later.

We started our walk behind the Hyatt hotel on Ismoili Somoni. Built on the lakeside, the hotel has commanding views over much of the city, and this largely compensates for the characterless interior.
Being Eid, the lakeside was crammed with local holidaymakers. Small boys stripped to the waist swam and splashed in the slightly sun-warmed water whilst their parents and sisters stood chatting, eating ice cream and riding on the elderly, slightly precarious-looking ferris wheel.

Hugging the lake shore, then following the path through the park enables you to keep back from the road for a considerable stretch. You then emerge on the pavement shortly before the junction with Hafiz Sherozi. We crossed the dual carriageway and continued another few minutes east, stopping outside a striking stone building.

The building's facade was covered with life-sized statues of Tajik poets and other cultural heroes. The building itself dates from the Soviet period but the men whose lives and works it commemorate span the last millennium. Few of the names would be recognisable to foreigner but this monument does show the high esteem in which the Tajik people hold their literary figures.

Ismoili Somoni joins Rudaki, Dushanbe's transport artery, outside an attractive neo classical buiding belonging to the President. The fountain are particularly cheery, and there is a notable chaikhana (traditional tea house) a few doors to the left.

We turned right long Rudaki, passing the Central Department Store (TsUM) and various small shops on the way. Whilst the men were predominantly in western dress, albeit with the occasional embroidered flat cap, almost all of the women had chosen the local equivalent of salwar kamiz: a long, loose tunic with baggy trousers in a matching fabric. Those who also wore a headscarf had it tight around their scalp and knotted at the nape of their neck. When the older women smiled they tended to flash a run of golden teeth - the legacy of Soviet dentistry.

Continuing along Rudaki, we reached the Central Park. This is a large, well laid out space that was  riot of colour even in the late summer. The grass was mostly green (thanks to a comprehensive irrigation system) and a collection of fountains and sculptures provided added visual stimuli.

The two largest statues in th park are part of elaborate monuments to Ismoili Somoni and to the poet Rudaki. Rudaki stands tall benath a colourful mosaic archway, his glory relected in the water pool below. Somoni, whom one can infer from the golden crownabove his head must have been an historic Tajik king, has his own archway. Somoni's arch is entirely gilded and far the most ostentatious of the two.

Leaving the park by the Somoni monument, we continued along a now tree-lined Rudaki, which runs at a slight angle from its previous course. The mostly administrative buildings here are low rise and classical in design,which makes a pleasant change from the Soviet concrete that dominates the centre of so may Central Asian cities. It seems the buildings have been recently painted, many in bright colours, and this adds to their charm.

Rudaki opens out into a large inter-section with Ayni and, at its centre, a square and fountains celebrating another Tajik poet: Ayni. Although there is a statue to Ayni here, we were more interested by those to its left: a 20th century war memorial and a sculpture with several slightly strange human figures, one of whom appears to be rolling on his back.

West of the square is Ayni Ave. and a brisk five-minute walk brought us to the Victory Monument - a tribute to those who fought for the USSR during the Great Patriotic War (WW2). As well as a large arch there is also an original tank, restored and repainted, which makes an ideal climbing frame for those so inclined.
The road north of the monument curves back round to Central Park, meeting the lawns close to the gold domed building of the Presidential administration. If you're going to take photos, do so discretely else an overly zealous policeman jump out and ruin your fun.

The last stop on our micro sightseeing tour was to stand beneath the vast Tajik flag that is visible from most of the city. Quite the largest flag I have ever seen,it somehow manages to float majestically even when there is no breeze. It is a proud national  image for a small but well-formed capital.

  

Travels on the Roof of the World

For the past month I have been travelling across Tajikistan and trekking in the Wakhan Corridor - the remote north-eastern corner of Afghanistan. Far from any electricity, let alone an internet connection, I temporarily returned to paper note writing and only now, sat in Dushanbe, am I able to upload my thoughts online. Each blog appears in the order it was written, though not necessarily in the order in which the events occurred.