(Not) April in Paris

Frank Sinatra may have sung the praises of April in Paris, but I'm inclined to prefer the autumn. The trees along the Seine are turning russet and gold, the sun still breaks through the cloud with a glorious warmth, and the majority of tourists have returned home, leaving the locals some space. 

Whereas on previous trips to Paris I tended to gallery-crawl, immersing myself in Degas, Rodin and the like, this time I took advantage of the weather to see the city itself, tromping instead along the tree-lined boulevards and through picturesque squares. A photographic book of Parisian sites provided ample inspiration, and tracking down each monument or view felt like a grownups' treasure hunt.Wielding a tripod at the Arc de Triomphe incurred the displeasure of the local police, but otherwise we were able to take photos undisturbed.

Our hotel, the Waldorf Arc de Triomphe (sadly not as glamorous as its namesake though pleasant nonetheless), was a 10 minute walk from the real Arc de Triomphe, so we started our walking tour there. This grand archway is impressive from all directions but surprisingly tricky to photograph: you have to stand a fair way back to get enough of it in the picture, and then the cars, lamp posts and other city debris tend to get in the way. We tried a few different angles but then changed tack and instead focused on the arc's many relief carvings.

The Champs Elysee is busy day and night with tourists and locals alike. You can easily spot the Parisians: they're the well-dressed ones. If you're interested in fashion or people watching in general, this is the place to catch the beautiful people strutting their stuff and to take in some window shopping as you do it.

Moving further down the street, we passed by the Palais des Beaux-Arts, the Place des Concords and the Orangery which houses Monet's superb waterlily paintings. The Tuilerie gardens, a vast open space in the city centre, is stuffed with sculptures historic and modern. A grass labyrinth was under construction as we walked by, as was a multi-coloured fibre-glass structure. The Rodin bronzes were, sadly, in shadow and so not looking their best, but the classical sculptures were looking very fine indeed.

The pyramid at the Louvre must be Paris's most famous site after the Eiffel Tower. Already well-known when it shot further to stardom in The Da Vinci Code, this once controversial structure is now one of Paris's gems. The contrast with its surroundings is indeed stark, but this stands only to emphasise the beauty of both kinds of architecture: in my mind at least they are entirely complimentary. We spent an hour or so towards the end of the day trying to capture the space from new angles, quite a feat in a place so often photographed. I was, however, quite happy with the results.  

Disinclined to take photos as it drew dark and began to drizzle, we retreated home via the funky Tea at Thé tea shop in a square behind the Louvre, where we experimented with their tea sangria and raspberry macaroons. Both, I can firmly say, are a culinary success and definitely to be repeated. 

Our intention to rise early and photograph the balance of city received a set-back from the weather. The previous evening's drizzle had developed into a full-on downpour, and it was not until lunchtime that the sun broke through the clouds. We dodged the showers and made half-hearted attempts to capture the Opera and Place Vendome.

Things picked up when we reached Place des Concords. The spray from the fountains posed a bit of a challenge for the cameras (even the mighty Nikon D3 doesn't care to get wet) but the statues of mermaids and mermen look good from almost any angle and their green and gold colouring stands out even against the most grey of skies. We at first attempted to replicate a shot in our inspiration book, but then decided that our own versions of the scene had the edge after all. 

France is, of course, known first and foremost for its foods and it would be sacrilege to stay in Paris without sampling as much as possible of the cuisine. Other than eating our own weight in glorious, calorie-laden patisserie, we tried out a few bistros spread out across the town. We didn't get as far off the beaten track as we would normally, but enjoyed a reasonably good meal at Le Hanger, a small place a few minutes walk from the Pompidou Centre.

This meal would not have earned mention here if it weren't for the accompanying haul. Max is a natural scavenger. Almost everything is hoarded, whether or not it has an obvious use, and a fully laden skip is an overwhelming temptation, even when he's wearing a suit. Normally I try to dissuade such behaviour - our house is stacked with enough 'useful' pallets, dog-eared cardboard boxes and old newspapers as it is - but on this occasion the finds were almost worth having: half a dozen lengths of unused coving, and two giant pop art artworks on metal boards. 

Taxi drivers anywhere in the world are not keen on transporting outsize luggage, especially late at night, and even more so when it has come out of the rubbish. Few of the taxis would, in any case, have had the requisite boot space and so I trooped back across the city to retrieve the car, leaving Max on the street corner to defend his hoard. Several other well-dressed men took interest in the pile, implying binning is a more widespread leisure pursuit than I thought, so it is just as well he stayed. Range Rover to the rescue, everything fitted in with an inch to spare. Thank God we don't drive a Smart car!

"Engaging with Asia: The Challenges and Opportunities for the UK"

Tuesday night saw the launch event for FLAG (Future Leaders in Asia Group), the UK's first dedicated pan-Asian networking and leadership training forum. The event took place at the Cass Business School and the topic under discussion for the evening's four prestigious panelists and 60+ guests was "Engaging with Asia: The Challenges and Opportunities for the UK".

The four panelists were: 

 

Lord Desai, Professor Emeritus of the London School of Economics (LSE, former Director of LSE Global Governance and founding member of the LSE's Development Studies Institute (DESTIN)

Lord Flight, Chairman of Arden and Partners, former Shadow Chief Secretary to the Treasury and former Deputy Chairman of the Conservative Party

Sir David John KCMG, Chairman of BSI Group, co-founder of the Association of MBAs and former member of the CBI's International Advisory Board

Wan Zaidi Wan Abdullah, Deputy Malaysian High Commissioner and former Counsel General of Malaysia to Mumbai

Each of the panelists has extensive experience working in Asia, and they were able to draw upon observations from the fields of industry and finance, diplomacy and politics. Having initially spoken individually, the panelists then entered into combined discussion on the changing nature of the UK´s relationship with Asia, the responsibility of individuals as well as governments to actively seek engagement, and the differences between doing business with smaller Asian nations as opposed to BRIC countries.

Members of the audience then ploughed into the discussion with their own questions, drawing attention to controversial subjects such as the challenges presented to businesses by the UK's new bribery and corruption legislation. The panelists responded frankly and with good humour. 

Once out of the auditorium, the drinks flowed and discussion continued. The attendees, a mix of professionals, MBAs and masters students all with an active interest in Asia,  found plenty to talk about, so much so that a significant number moved on to All Bar One and then the late-opening B@1 on Bishop's Square.

For more information about FLAG or to sign up for future events, go to www.flagnetwork.org. 

An encounter with Alexander of Macedon

After the British Museum, the Louvre must be one of the world's greatest collections of art and artefacts. The British Museum retains its edge on account of its free entry and general lack of queues, but the Louvre scores bonus points for its spectacular architecture.

There are currently two major exhibitions running at the Louvre, one on the Chinese Emperors, and a second on Macedonian art. As luck would have it, I am dipping into a book on the strategies of Alexander the Great, and so the latter exhibition was the obvious choice given the limited amount of time available and the museum's unwillingness to part with free tickets even after I'd asked for a press pass.

The exhibition, which displays nearly 500 artefacts, is extensive but organised in an accessible fashion. A large mosaic fills the entrance room, and this is followed by an area explaining the key excavations of Macedonia and exhibiting some of the works that they unearthed. Unlike in Greece, professional digs in Macedonia began relatively late, and significant discoveries have been made even within the last decade.

Perhaps because of their recent discovery, the large-format photographs on the walls show sites that are not only well-preserved over time but appear to have been little damaged by their excavation. Tombs belonging to close family members of Alexander the Great appear simply to have been shut up and left: the painting remains clear on the wall and many of the funereal goods look untouched.

In this early part of the exhibition, my favourite artefacts are the bronze helmets found, I think, amongst the tombs. Perhaps never worn in life, these helmets are perfectly preserved and scarcely event dented: one could be forgiven for thinking they are reconstructions. Some of the helmets are decorated with gold, revered for its purity and the belief it could preserve a body even after death, though others are more simple in design.

Elsewhere in the exhibition are a large number of stone sculptures (including busts), some wonderful coloured glassware (always a favourite of mine) and, of course, gold jewellery and other precious items. There is a notable similarity between the items displayed here and those in the recent Afghan exhibition, Afghanistan: Crossroads of the Ancient World, at the British Museum, including wonderful gold headdresses. This is a further reminder that the influence Greece (or, specifically in this case, Macedon) had on the art, culture and everyday life of the territories it conquered infiltrated all areas of society and continued to be felt even centuries after the invaders had gone.

I was not allowed to take photos whilst inside the exhibition. Images and more information about the exhibition can, however, be found by following this link to the Louvre´s own website:

http://www.louvre.fr/llv/exposition/detail_exposition.jsp?CONTENT%3C%3Ecnt_id=10134198674214326&CURRENT_LLV_EXPO%3C%3Ecnt_id=10134198674214326&pageId=0&bmLocale=en

Surviving Travel Emergencies

What should you do when your dream holiday turns into a front-page news story? If John Simpson and a BBC news crew arrive in town, is it time for you to leave?

Brits take almost 60 million overseas trips each year, and nearly a quarter of these are to non-European destinations. The world may be getting smaller but, unfortunately, our exposure to risk is not: the past year has seen British tourists caught up in revolutions in Kyrgyzstan, Tunisia and Egypt; violent demonstrations across North Africa, the Middle East and Iran; natural disasters in Pakistan, Australia, New Zealand and Japan; and terrorist attacks in every corner of the globe. Whilst your chances of being caught up in such an event are remote, there are certain things you can do before and during a trip to increase your safety.

Before You Go

Read up about your destination. Check the FCO website (www.fco.gov.uk) for security updates, guidance on local laws and customs, and issues affecting foreign visitors. Buy a reputable, up to date guidebook for more detailed information on what you can expect (as well as useful local tips and contact numbers), and keep abreast of any regional news stories that may affect your trip. The BBC World Service websites are a fantastic and reliable resource.

Buy a comprehensive travel insurance policy before leaving home: single trip cover can cost as little as £3. One in five British tourists travelling abroad does not have travel insurance, meaning that if something does go wrong, they are in very real danger of being left stranded or with stratospheric bills to pay. If you are visiting a country that does not have reliable medical provision, select a policy that includes medical evacuation (Med-Evac). A tourist trekking in the Wakhan Corridor in 2010 broke his leg and had to be flown by helicopter to the nearest hospital in Faizabad: his insurance covered the $99,000 bill. Check that the policy covers you for your destination and any activities you’ll do once you get there: many policies exclude areas to which the FCO advises against travel, and even going to the USA may demand an increased premium.  Some insurance companies offer coverage for terrorism and kidnapping: your destination will probably dictate whether this additional cover is advisable.

There are, unfortunately, instances when your insurance may not cover you – natural disasters and other ‘acts of God’ for example – or when there is a delay in the insurance company providing assistance or funds. Make sure that you purchase emergency funds in local currency (or US dollars) that you can keep about your person throughout the trip. ATM cards and traveller’s cheques are undoubtedly useful, but banks are often the first places to close during unrest and you may not have access to a working cash machine. Nothing beats hard cash in a crisis.

Make copies of your expected itinerary, any local contact numbers (e.g. hotels where you’ll be staying), your passport, visas, driving license, insurance documents and any other important paperwork. Send yourself a copy as an email attachment, put a paper copy in your luggage, and leave a copy with someone you trust at home. This will speed things up immeasurably if something gets lost or you are reported missing. Register your details online with the FCO’s LOCATE service and remember to update any changes to your travel plans whilst you’re away.

Pack a first aid kit. If you are travelling somewhere with limited medical facilities, make sure it includes a variety of needles and syringes, bandages, multi-purpose antibiotics and strong pain killers (both available on prescription from your GP). You may also want to carry water purification tablets, iodine, high-energy snacks, a torch and a Swiss army knife. These items can be exceptionally useful even in non-emergency situations.

While You’re Travelling

There are a variety of emergency situations you could face whilst travelling but although on the surface they might appear quite distinct – you might wonder, for example, what a bomb attack has in common with a tsunami or earthquake – there are similarities in the way you should respond before and during the incident to increase your survival chances.

Be vigilant

Keep your eyes and ears open for information. Whilst local media or fellow travellers may warn you that trouble is brewing, your own senses can give you a far faster indication. Abandoned cases or parcels, vehicles parked in an awkward place, or individuals acting suspiciously, may indicate an increased risk of a bomb attack; seeing the sea retreat rapidly from the beach implies a tsunami will follow; and walking along empty streets with hastily boarded up shop fronts in a normally busy area suggests civil unrest is anticipated. Before rioting started in Darjeeling in August 2008, we noted shops had shut early, and women and children retreated inside. Half an hour later, mobs were setting fire to cars and smashing windows, but the locals had known they were coming. If you see something that concerns you, or you have a gut-hunch that something is just not right, leave the area and go somewhere else. The worst thing that can happen is that you miss a few hours sightseeing and instead spend it in a café on the other side of town.

Avoid large crowds and official personnel

Bomb attacks are rarely targeted specifically at tourists. Whether in Afghanistan and Iraq, Russia and Turkey, or even the US and UK, recent bombings have been overwhelmingly aimed at the authorities (police, soldiers, politicians or the judiciary) or high-profile, densely populated targets (public transport, places of worship, shopping malls etc.) that are guaranteed to garner attention for the terrorist’s cause. When tourists have been hit, therefore, it’s largely because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Large crowds can pose their own threat. On the most basic level, it’s easily to become separated from your companions and/or belongings, and even celebrations have been known to turn tragic when rumours or small, localised incidents have prompted a stampede. Keep a clear head, don’t get sucked in to the centre of a group without knowing how you will get out again, and arrange a meeting point a short distance away in case you become separated from one another or simply feel uncomfortable caught up in the crowd. Do not rely on mobile phones to organise such a rendezvous on the spot as network coverage can be sketchy and may be turned off entirely in the event of a crisis.

If the reason for the crowd amassing is political or religious, beware that the response of the authorities, or, indeed, groups with conflicting views, may be aggressive, even if the crowd is relatively peaceful. If things do turn violent, it is imperative that you keep calm and think: do not just follow the herd. During the revolution in Bishkek, we were photographing protesters in Ala Too Square. When snipers began firing from the rooftops, the majority of people ran out of the square in one direction, only to face a volley of shots fired by the police. The road was littered with bodies from this second round of shooting.  We were relatively safe from the gunshots as we’d temporarily sought shelter beneath a set of concrete steps rather than running straight into the unknown. We were able to catch our breath, assess the situation, and identify a safer route away from the square.

Protect your head and chest

In the event that something goes seriously wrong, be it an explosion or an earthquake, your head and chest are the two things you can’t live without: in a worst-case scenario, limbs and belongings are all repairable or replaceable. If debris is flying and there is no immediate cover, drop to the floor in a foetal position with your head tucked in to reduce your chance of being hit. As soon as there is a lull, look to see if you can move quickly and safely to a more secure place: this could be an open area if buildings are potentially unstable or, if there is shooting, somewhere with better cover. Do not attempt to retrieve belongings, and only move if you can reach your new location without disproportionate risk. Sometimes it is even best to stay still as you will not draw attention to yourself.

There are a variety of helmets and protective jackets on the market but, unless you are going to be reporting from the middle of a known war zone, you’d be unlikely to include them in your suitcase. There is also an argument that the weight of Kevlar and ceramic plates (the main components of a bullet-proof jacket) actually limit your ability to move quickly and escape from a problem when speed and agility can be among your greatest assets.

Know where to go

Whenever you find yourself in a new situation, always have a cursory glance around. If you are in a building, find out where the exits are. If one route is blocked, how would you leave? If you’re travelling with friends, agree a meeting point in each new city where you can reconvene if you’re separated or there is a problem. Choose somewhere you’ll both remember that is easily accessible on foot. Get to know where the closest hospital is and how to get there: even if you’re only suffering from Delhi-belly, it’s useful information to have to hand.

Establish where you can get information and/or assistance from in the event of an emergency. If you’re in a capital city, these are likely to be embassies and consulates, but also consider international banks, hotel chains or other companies and organisations that have regular interaction with foreigners and a brand that they want to protect. When the Marriott hotel was bombed in Islamabad in 2008, many survivors fled to the Serena, the city’s other 5* hotel. In Bishkek in 2010, the Hyatt became a refuge for the capital’s expats, providing security, reliable information and a constant supply of food that went far beyond the required level of customer service.

The Aftermath

If you or your companion is injured, your first priority should be getting medical attention. Be aware that many countries do not operate a reliable ambulance service, hospitals may be overcrowded and ill-equipped and, if there are a lot of casualties, you may be left entirely to your own devices. Be prepared to administer emergency first aid (see box) whilst calling for help. Contact the closest British Embassy and your insurance company to confirm your whereabouts and request assistance. This is important even if you are unhurt as it will ensure you are not listed as a missing, making sure search and rescue resources are deployed where they’re most needed.

Your next priorities are food and water, as supplies can quickly run out. Forget your normal balanced diet and focus on obtaining high-energy products such as fizzy drinks, chocolate and tinned goods, as well as staples such as rice or bread. Our somewhat eclectic shopping basket on the morning of Kyrgyzstan’s 2010 revolution included 32 Snickers bars, bottles of Coke and water, a bag of flour, pasta, carrots, and tinned peaches. They didn’t need refrigerating and kept us running until food shops reopened and restocked. Drinking bottled water or carbonated drinks will reduce the likelihood of getting sick from contaminated drinking water. If you can’t get hold of them, boil and add purification tablets to anything you drink.

Be aware of your personal safety. Tempers run high among desperate people, and grief and anger can quickly turn to violent outbursts. Looters and armed gangs stalked the streets of Bishkek last year after the revolution. The police were in hiding and a significant minority took advantage of the situation to make a quick buck or settle old scores. The sexual assault on a foreign journalist in Cairo when Mubarak fell, and the recent kidnappings of foreigners in Libya further reminds us of the very real dangers of a sudden lack of law and order.

Treat personnel in uniform with politeness but be cognisant of the fact that they may not be legitimate, or maybe seeking to abuse their authority. Do not hand over original documents unless you are inside a police station or at your consulate; use photocopies instead to identify yourself. If you are asked for a payment or fine, again try to pay it only inside the police station, and request a receipt. Make a note if you can of the name and/or badge number of the officers involved as this is a strong deterrent if they are acting beyond their remit and it helps minimise the corruption.

Think carefully about returning home. In the event of a large-scale incident, such as the recent Japanese earthquakes, the local authorities and emergency response units are overstretched and simply do not have the resources to look after tourists as well. Their priority, quite rightly, is on people who have lost everything and not those who have a safe home to go back to. Unless you have specific skills that are needed (e.g. search and rescue or medical training), or are staying with an injured person, change your travel plans to another area or finish your trip early.

BOX 1: Emergency First Aid

First Steps

-          Call for help – this can be the emergency services, or even bystanders.

-          Check your surroundings: watch out for falling debris, live wires, traffic and anything that poses a danger.

-          Check if the casualty is conscious.

-          Don´t attempt to move the casualty unless absolutely necessary.

ABCDE

-          Airway: Check for obstructions blocking the casualty´s airway. If you are confident they do not have a spinal or neck injury, turn their head to prevent choking if they are sick.

-          Breathing: Is the casualty breathing? If not, pinch the casualty´s nose. Place your mouth over theirs, making a seal with your lips. Blowing slowly but firmly, give one breath every five seconds. Watch for the chest to rise as you give these breaths. If the chest does not rise, reposition the head and try again.

-          Circulation: Does the casualty have a pulse? If not, you will need to administer CPR. Give 30 chest compressions, followed by 2 rescue breaths. Repeat for 2 minutes before re-checking for signs of life. For detailed instructions see www.rescus.org.

-         Disability/Deformity: Ask the casualty to move their hands and feet. If they can’t, they may have spinal damage. Check for obvious fractures, dislocations or anything that looks out of place.

-    Exposure: Systematically expose each part of the body to check for wounds. This includes hard-to-see areas such as buttocks and armpits.

Control Bleeding

-     If your casualty is breathing, stopping bleeding is the most important thing to do.

-     Apply direct pressure to the wound. Ideally use an absorbent pad or piece of clothing but, if nothing else is available, even your hand will do.

-     Use pressure points in the arm (between the elbow and armpit), groin (along the bikini line), or behind the knee to control bleeding in the arm, thigh, or lower leg.

-    Wounds to the head, face and neck typically bleed severely. Keep the casualty upright and be careful not to obstruct breathing whilst applying pressure.

-    If you need to apply more bandages to stop bleeding, put them over the top of the old ones so as not to disturb any clotting. 

      This article was originally published by Real Travel magazine in Spring 2011. However, as the magazine has now gone bancrupt without paying for the article and its pictures, I am reproducing it here.

The Last Day

In the course of our 8-day trek I have no idea how far we have walked - the never ending cycle of ascents and descents and paths that twist and turn on the mountainside has completely blown any guesses I might have made. These same changes in elevation have proved the greatest physical challenge, and none were more grueling than those on the final day of the trek.

Given that we came back a similar route to the way we'd gone, day eight should not have been more challenging than day one. If anything, I'd have expected it to be easier as we were now amply acclimatised to the altitude. I couldn't have been more wrong.

We started early, rising at six, to maximise our chances of getting to a guesthouse before dark. The day began with a long, slow ascent from our riverside campsite, and I struggled from the outset. My legs, not a problem until now, ached; my toes rubbed in my boots; and my lungs felt permanently as through someone were sitting on my chest. When I walked I could not draw in enough breath to continue, but when I stood still to catch my breath I inevitably broke the momentum of walking. It was both agonising and infuriating.

I lost count of how many times we climbed to a breathtaking height, only to descend again to river level. The Dahliz Pass, colder than the week before, was thankfully not yet under snow, but although this was the highest point to climb, it was by no means downhill all the way home. I trudged on, willing my body to keep going for those last few hours back to Sarhad.

Whilst we stopped for lunch, two donkeys came to join us. They had seemingly become separated from the animal train with with they traveled, but neither the donkeys nor their owners seemed worried. We walked along in convoy, our guide riding on the back of one of these docile beasts from time to time.

Half an hour outside Sarhad and either seeing that I was on my last legs or sensing an entertaining photo opportunity, the donkey was passed on to me. It's been 15 years since I regularly rode ponies and I have never before ridden a donkey. Not even on the beach. I climbed on with some trepidation, despite the fact that my feet hung barely a foot from the floor, and clung on for dear life as the guide belted the animal's rump. The donkey wore a blanket and a piece of rope for a bridle, but there was neither saddle nor stirrups. I gripped on with my thighs as best I could and, as the donkey shot off down the hill, I wondered if I might have been better finishing the trek on foot after all.

Afghan Yurt Stay

Amongst Afghanistan's numerous ethnic groups are a small number of Kyrgyz herders who purportedly fled Stalin's purges in the early 20th century and became trapped in the Wakhan Corridor once international borders closed. Fewer than 1400 of these nomads remain, eking out an existence with their flocks in the remotest mountain valleys.

Bozai Gumbaz is the furthest point on our trek. It is a Kyrgyz yurt settlement and as far from civilisation as I have ever been. The wind whips icily around the felt yurts as I sit shivering in the last few rays of sunlight. Within a few days the Kyrgyz themselves will have left the mountains, retreating to lower ground during the bitterly cold winter months.

Our shelter tonight is a traditional felt bozui or yurt. We were initially offered room in a brand new plastic yurt but had to decline - it had the insulating properties of a bin bag. Felt is much warmer and the natural oils in the wool make it largely waterproof.

We were shown instead to what normally serves as a storage yurt. There is a dirt floor, partially covered with a plastic tarpaulin. Light enters the yurt through an open cartwheel in the roof known, as in Kyrgyzstan, as a tunduk. This hole also lets out smoke from the fire. Three breeze blocks hold in place dried yak dung cakes and a coarse, fragrant bush whilst they burn. The dung is surprisingly odourless and the small amount of smoke is a small price to pay for the warmth.

*****

Building and maintaining a smoke-free yurt is an art form and, sadly, not a skill that I have acquired.  Once our army of small boys had satisfied their curiosity and departed for bed, we were left to our own devices. Within fifteen minutes we may as well have been sitting inside a bonfire, only without the advantage of being toasty warm. The heat managed to escape through the tunduk and also through the now-evident holes in the wall and roof. Thick, slightly acrid smoke lingered in the air, burning our eyes and catching in our throats. We buried down in our sleeping bags, scarves across our faces, to spend a cold and not very restful night in the yurt.

Trekking in the Afghan Pamir

A few hours walk out of Sarhad is the Dahliz Pass. I should add this is a few hours' walk steeply up hill, as the Pass is over 3000' higher than the village. The swift ascent and the resultant need to acclimatise at speed is a physical challenge. The effort, unusually, is worth it.

The Pamirs are sometimes referred to as the "Roof of the World" and indeed, the history of the RSAA is called Strolling about on the Roof of the World in reference to the Great Game. Standing atop the Dahliz Pass, wheezing erratically, the term could not feel more right: you stand with the world quite literally at your feet - peak after peak unveiled before you. I felt humbled by the scale and unspoilt beauty of this most epic landscape.

******

Waking up to find your socks actually frozen to the side of the tent is not an ideal way to start the morning. When further inspection also reveals a layer of ice on your boots and the lower half of your hiking trousers to be stiff, it hardly endears you to the weather.

We camped last night at a summer pasture some three days hard walk east of Sarhad. The snow is slowly creeping down the surrounding peaks and even once we reach our destination late this afternoon, we still have to hope the weather holds out long enough to complete the four days' trek back again. The Dahliz Pass was spectacular in bright sunshine but would undoubtedly be treacherous under a foot of snow.

Paper Mountain

Bureaucrats make the world go round - or at least that's what they'd have us believe. A love of forms and triplicate seems to have pervaded even the remotest corners of the world to such an extent that you can't even get lost in the wilderness without first asking permission, filling out reams of paperwork and collecting a bewildering array of stamps.

I am still unsure quite how many permits and letters you are supposed to have to travel along the Wakhan Corridor. In fact, no-one seems to know. Before leaving the UK we were given one list by Wakhan Tourism and the various embassies; another list was added in Ishkashim; and even in tiny Sarhad the police have their own ideas of what is required. Frustratingly for us, each check-point expects you to have everything it desires in place but singularly fails to communicate its demands back down the line to a point where you might actually be able to meet them. I have no inclination to drive eight hours back the way I've come to ask the police in Qila-e Panj for a permit they didn't know to give me, nor to return to Ishkashim to make another half dozen copies of my passport for burying in yet more archaic filing cabinets.

There are usually two ways around a paperwork problem: find a sympathetic ear in the upper echelons of whichever department is causing the trouble; or find an ear that will become sympathetic in exchange for a small payment in cash. Dollars still work best, even in today's unsteady climate, but you have to haggle hard and never reveal your hand else you are taken completely to the cleaners. Whilst in Europe and the US bribery and corruption are dirty words (we prefer to call them "fees"), the rest of the world is far more up front about what it expects: if you want something done, fixed or expedited, there's always a bill to pay.

Guesthouses in the Wakhan Corridor

All along the Wakhan Corridor the Norwegian government has funded small guesthouses to aid the nascent tourism industry and give NGO workers somewhere safe and comfortable to stay. The guesthouses are, by western standards, rather basic but they provide a welcome change from camping and the chance to get a hot meal.

Each guesthouse is of more or less the same design: there is a large, square living room with a skylight and bright rugs laid out on the floor; 2-3 dormitory rooms with single beds or a pile of rugs and carpets; and a simple washroom with a squat toilet and a tank of water that may or may not be heated from below by a fire. In every guesthouse we visited we were the only guests, curiosities that attracted an assortment of local residents as the evening drew in.

Guesthouses are an excellent source of revenue for their owners: guests pay $25 per person for bed and an evening meal, which is a huge sum of money by local standards. The hosts are genial  and exceptionally helpful, chattering away at length even when you share not a word in common. On the guesthouse wall you'll inevitably find a picture or two of your smiling host with a local dignitary or receiving an award for tourism promotion or local wildlife conservation.

One of the key attractions of the guesthouses is the food. Standards differ, as you might expect, but fresh bread and hot tea are always plentiful and much appreciated after a long day on difficult roads. Those hosts with a culinary flare (or rather their wives) may also serve up tasty potato or mutton soup, copious pilau rice, dal and yoghurt. There is little variety in the type of food (ingredients are hard to come by in the Wakhan), but it is wholesome and reflects the local diet.

Sarhad e Broghil: The end of the road

Sarhad e Broghil is quite literally the end of the road: the rock-strewn track peters out amongst this small cluster of mud houses and from there the only way onwards is on horseback or on foot. The buildings are well camouflaged against the hillsides and a heavy rainfall would probably wash them away entirely. Small children with weather-beaten faces wander here and there; I see a small girl towing a bottle on a string behind her as a toy.

In Sarhad the harvest is mostly in - it gets colder here earlier than further down the valley and the snow is already falling on the passes. A creamy yellow stubble colours the fields, accented occasionally with hand-tied ears of grain in orderly piles.

From my perch on the hill I can see two families threshing their crops. In each case half a dozen small donkeys are roped side by side and marched round in circles, crushing the grain beneath their feet. It is time consuming but seemingly effective; even the smallest child can keep the donkey team in check, leaving other people to fork more straw into the threshing circle.

Into the Wakhan Corridor

The Wakhan Corridor seems to begin in earnest after leaving the village of Qazideh. The gravel track that serves as a road mirrors each twist and turn of the Oxus and as the evening draws on, houses on the Tajik border twinkle with light. Afghanistan is cloaked in darkness.

Every few miles the landscape of the corridor changes, often dramatically. The whim of the rives dictates where is fertile and where is barren, and where rocks, sand and morrain fall. We drove through boulder-strewn plains, rocky riverbeds interlaced with streams, dustbowls, and patchworks of lush, irrigated fields. Even in a 4x4 we could move at little more than walking pace and so there was ample time to take in the views.

September is harvest time in the Wakhan. The women's shawls and dresses are a passionate riot of colour against the golden grain and burnt brown stubble in the fields. In the distance, framing each scene, are barren grey slopes with scattered snow tips: the peaks of the Afghan Pamir.

Driving the so-called road is draining; the surface is incredibly poor and often non-existent. In the course of a morning we waded through two rivers, checking their depths and holding our breath that the water would not flood the car or carry us away downstream. In one area, a short distance past Qala e Panj, a torrent of water has swept away the road entirely and you must pay a $15-20 toll (a truly exhorbitant sum, especially by local standards) to a local farmer to cross his deeply rutted field. Once out of the mud you must then take your chances on the steep gravel ramp hacked in to the base of a decidedly unstable cliff.

Progress along the corridor is slow: 10mph is a respectable pace for the few people passing this way. You are unlikely to see another vehicle from one day to the next: the other road users come by donkey or on foot.
We stopped for lunch in an idyllic location close to the confluence of the Panj and Wakhan rivers. The valley there is wide and flat. Animals grazed on the grass and I ate my own weight in pistachio nuts whilst soaking up the sense of serenity.

Noshaq 2

I expected to reach Noshaq base camp (4450m) and to feel such an overwhelming sense of achievement that it made the gruelling climb worthwhile. It didn't. The shortness of breath, sweat and fatigue were omnipresent, so much so that I felt almost resentful. What on earth was I doing struggling up a mountain no one has heard of in the absolute back of beyond? What was the point?

As we descended, retracing our steps along the rocky ledges and mine-littered scree, my mood began to change. Perhaps it was the renewed thickness of the air, the lower temperature of a cloudy day, or simply that the going is less tough downhill. Everything around me seemed a little brighter and, for the first time, I could appreciate my epic surroundings.

During the ascent I put my slow progress, sweat and pain down to a lack of fitness and lingering food poisoning. On the retreat I realised I'd been overly harsh on myself - the track was in fact incredibly steep and some of the climbs exceptionally long. We had completed what is advertised as a 5-6 day trek in four days and so, although it felt awful, we must have been moving at quite a pace.

Lastly, having not trekked before, I took the trek's guidebook rating of "moderate" as read. However, having later discussed this with Bill, a keen mountaineer and our party's most seasoned trekker, it appears that although the duration and change in elevation put our trek firmly in the moderate category, the condition under foot was quite the worst he had seen. Looking back at my sweaty scrambles across rockfalls, slipping and sliding on slopes of gravel and sand, and hoping feverishly my foothold would stand, I realised that finishing the trek was a challenge but also an achievement. I won't be attempting to climb Noshaq again, but I'm glad I tried it once. 

Playing Doctors and Nurses

My brother is the doctor in the family. The thought of me doing anything more than applying plasters and handing around paracetamol would probably make him laugh - I go green at the sight of blood and, if it is my own blood, have been known to pass out entirely. Needs must, however, and as the person with the First Aid certificate and the largest First Aid kit, I have been designated team doctor.

Caring for our trekkers is a relatively straightforward affair: they can communicate their symptoms and know the advantages (and limitations) of living on a diet of Immodium and electrolyte solution. They keep themselves relatively clean and drink plenty of water. My greatest challenge, therefore, was with the seven porters and guide.

One tiny, spartanly equipped medical clinic covers the whole of the Wakahn Corridor. The nearest hospital is at least two days drive away in Faizabad. Maternal mortality is the highest in the world, life expectancy at birth is just 44 years, and most people have never set eyes on a qualified doctor. Anyone who carries a bag of davai (medicine), therefore, is not only an extreme curiosity but also up there with the gods.

The first two sets of symptoms presented to me on the trip were, not surprisingly, upset stomachs and headaches. These resulted almost certainly from a) drinking dirty water and b) getting dehydrated. It was rather a catch 22 situation but I felt the latter to be more pressing, particularly given that even in the villages the water tends to come straight from the river. Having heard on the grape vine the miracles of davai, the porters in question were keen to simply pop a pill and wait for the effects. They seemed rather disappointed when I explained they needed to increase their water intake by a couple of litres a day. It was only when I offered a couple of paracetamol along with the water that they cheered up.

Of more concern to me were the infected cuts. Nobody had explained to these men the link between dirt and infections, so simple cuts and grazes quickly turn in to abscesses. Not only is this painful but here, where there are no antibiotics, it can be life-threatening.

I started by making each porter clean his own cut thoroughly with boiled water and then antiseptic, and became increasingly fierce as they cleaned around the wound but avoided the bit that actually hurt. In one case I actually got out the latex gloves and cleaned the wound myself as unless the dirt was removed it wasn't going to get any better.

Once cleaned I applied Savlon spray or a topical antibiotic cream to the wound. The non-comprehension of the importance of cleanliness was reinforced when one porter went to use his finger, black with dirt, to rub in the cream. I explained as best I could why this was a bad idea, but I think the lesson will take a while to learn.

To keep the newly clean cuts clean, I dug out giant plasters and surgical tape. They're both fantastic inventions. The porters could also show their plasters off proudly - proof they had indeed seen the doctor. Where appropriate I made sure that each man had sufficient sterile wipes and replacement plasters for the days to come. There was no point undoing the good work they'd done so far. In one case where the wound had already swollen nastily - the one in fact I'd cleaned myself - I dug out a course of broad spectrum antibiotics and explained in a hotch-potch of languages how often he needed to take them. Had we been in reach of a proper hospital it'd probably have been better to lance the wound, give him an injection of antibiotics and stick him on a drip for a few days, but there are no such luxuries here. You can only use what you have to hand.

Sometimes I become infuriated when I travel. The lack of access to basic healthcare and education always chafe most of all. It costs next to nothing to teach people basic things to help them keep healthy: boil dirty water before drinking it; wash your hands after you've been to the toilet; clean any cuts and keep them clean and dry if you want them to heal. It's not rocket science but if no one ever tells you whey you get an upset stomach, a headache or a skin infection, you can't prevent it happening next time. In parts of the world where the doctors don't reach, prevention is undoubtedly your best chance of survival.