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Peshawar - Kabul
E.Route : Peshawar - Kabul : PTD 0754 : PTA 2100 : P.Dist 184m.
A.Route : Peshawar - Kabul : ATD 0850 : ATA 1806* : A.dist 176.1m.
- Depart Peshawar 0850
- 0905 - 0920 Fuel stop.
- 0946 - 0347 Camera check.
- 1041 - 1235 Frontier Clearance.
- 1441 - 1543 Swim stop.
- 1632 - 1641 Crew change.
- 1700 - 1725 Radiator Problems.
- 1740 - 1748 More radiator problems.
- Arrive Kabul 1836
P.A.Spd.(N) 30.6mph : Gross A.Spd 18.1 mph. : Net.A.Spd. 25.5mph.
Stop time 2:44hr : Speedo TD 11712.7 : Speedo TA 11888.8.
Comment : Not suprisingly slower than the eastward journey over the same section, with the necessity of climbing the Kabul Gorge : this was not helped by the loss of the radiator cap, which allowed an evaporation rate which made water a difficulty.
Jim Lindsay's diary:
13 September
Onward to Kabul. The Khyber was not nearly so impressive in daylight apart
from the fortifications and regimental crests cut into the rocks. We stopped
at Landi Kotal and managed to leave RC behind - he claimed that he had decided
to have a cup of tea.
Once past the pass there was a prolonged swim stop but then at the bottom of
the Kabul Gorge we found we had a problem due to the disappearance of the
radiator cap. It seemed most likely that it had been stolen. AS had to fill
the radiator very cautiously, since every addition of water produced clouds
of scalding steam, and we went very carefully from then on. For about 20 miles
we followed a van with a youth hanging onto the back using one foot and one hand.
We did not opt for Quarga Dam as a camp site and other possibilities all failed,
but DS was able to persuade the US Marine Embassy guards to let us use their
lawn to camp overnight. This was a mixed blessing. If the old lechers at the
party the night before had been hoping quietly for one thing, the US Marines
were quite transparent.
They were unusual people. There were six of them in a lavish air-conditioned
house with all the comforts they could expect and equipment for any sport they
might want to take up, but they were young soldiers trained to regard themselves
as an elite, and bored silly with in an environment very different from home.
They told us unpleasant stories about going out drunk looking to beat up anyone
whose behaviour hinted at aggression. Their favourite story was about two of
them beating a solitary Afghan. While they were doing this, another one ran up
but instead of helping his countryman he pinned him down so that the Marines
cold pummel him all the better.
When the women turned out to be unwilling to offer them what they apparently
wanted, the hospitality became a bit chillier.
The Khyber Pass by Liz Y
It was around 10 o'clock when we arrived at Bab-e-Khyber and the morning sun was already intense. This recently built landmark at
the entrance to the Khyber Pass was a short drive along the Grand Trunk Road from the grounds of Islamia College, where we had
spent the night.
Things look different in daylight and the atmosphere at Bab-e-Khyber didn't seem particularly tense. It's true that we were again
warned about stopping on the Pass or straying from the road. There was also a weather-worn sign reminding us not to take photos of
tribal women and one or two men carried rifles at their sides, rather as one of us might casually hold a rolled umbrella or a light
bag of belongings. A few people, including some women, milled about near the gateway and a few men sat by the roadside, watching
the world go by. At this point we were still in the Peshawar Valley in the town of Jamrud. Nearby was the Jamrud Fort, relic of
the Sikh Empire and the first of the forts we would pass that day.
So it was that we set off through the Khyber with our eyes glued to the windows. From Jamrud the Pass winds up towards its highest
point at Landi Kotal, a distance of about 20 miles. Forts, such as Ali Masjid, and other monuments on the Pass were testament to
the historical presence of invading armies. We could also visualize how hidden byways and high rocky outcrops of the Hindu Kush
had provided an impenetrable, natural fortress for the people of the Khyber, enabling them to resist the might of diverse empires.
Perhaps too we pictured the ghosts of ancient merchants and camel trains bearing exotic goods for trade between East and West.
The road through the Pass had been widened for modern times. The narrowest section is at Ali Masjid. This had once been so tight
that two laden camels couldn't get past each other. From the coach we caught sight of distant enclosures and flat-roofed houses
on the hills, where people of the Khyber guarded their privacy away from the scrutiny of passing travellers. In former times, the
tribal people could exact a toll for safe conduct through the Pass. They would get to know the merchants and hear their stories
of the wider world.
Legends about the Khyber and its fearsome tribes abound across the globe, stories brought back by soldiers of past empires. These
stories undoubtedly shaped our preconceptions, but there is something incongruous about invading empires calling those who won't
be subdued "warlike", sort of the pot calling the kettle black.
We wondered what the tribal people were really like, how they lived their lives, what stories older generations handed down about
battalions from faraway places who came to conquer their land. Very few people of the Khyber could read or write and little of the
ancient folklore of Pashtun culture was accessible to us in the 1960s. Today some stories from this oral tradition have been
published in English, revealing tales as fascinating as the Arabian Nights or Aesop's Fables.
We stopped briefly in Landi Kotal, the administrative centre and a market town for the region, and known to us for its historical
association with the Khyber Rifles. In the 1960s it had become a famous stop-off point on the Hippie Trail. After this it was only
a few miles to the Afghan border at Torkham.
Usually the Comex groups were batch processed at the borders. Fay and some of the driving crew would present any paperwork together
with a bundle of our passports, while the rest of us sat in the coach or hung about till this was dealt with. I seem to remember
that it was all quite relaxed at the Afghan border post, probably very unlike a crossing today. There was some banter between the
boys and the border guards about swapping one or two girls for camels, a running joke in the group during our stay in Afghanistan.
Quite how a herd of camels would adjust to life on the bus was never clear.
One of the great aspects of our journey was that we stopped as we liked .. well, not on the Khyber, but we were sort of free spirits
on the road. Not far from the border, we discovered a good place to swim in the Kabul River. The chance to bathe was too good to miss
and we lingered for over an hour.
Things weren't plain sailing after that. There was some problem with the radiator and we had the Kabul Gorge to climb. It was late
afternoon when we reached Kabul. We could have camped at the Qargha Dam, but another option presented itself. Dave S had an offer
from some marines, guards at the US embassy .. a common language could be a draw .. to camp on a lawn at the compound where they
lived. As it turned out, this wasn't a great choice. These men were bored tough guys, far from home, fish out of water and disrespectful
of the girls. I suppose their lawn in this dry climate had some appeal.
Anyway, after that we had a day in Kabul, time for tea at the Khyber Restaurant and a wander through the streets. The quest was on for
souvenirs and a few afghanis went a long way for us. Apart from Afghan coats, other things caught our eye. There were embroidered
sheepskin waistcoats, karakul hats and soft woven rugs in vibrant stripes, with threads in natural dyes and one tiny deliberate
mistake in the weave.
We spent the next night in the desert on the road to Kandahar. It was a bit cold, not too comfortable. In the darkness, a slither down a
scrubby bank by the bus was an incidental hazard, but then the unexpected was how things were on the road.
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