Zarafshan and Iskanderkul

The second free weekend we had in Tajikistan saw us travelling further afield than last time, about 140km (approx. 87 miles) to Iskanderkul in the Fann Mountains. This might not sound a huge distance, but given the conditions of Tajik roads it is no mean feat.

Map from Google Maps. The pointer is at Iskanderkul

Rachel had organised things once again, and we had mini buses with drivers, a place to stay, and one of our local associates from Dushanbe had come along to help translate.

The roads were in poor shape much of the time, and the minibuses were not much better maintained, making for a long journey. Further delays had the potential to be more entertaining though, such as getting stuck in many traffic jams consisting mainly of sheep and goats!

The views from the window as we drove were fantastic.

The overheating minibus meant that we got to enjoy some of the views from outside too, as we waited for the engine to cool down from dangerously hot…

The further we got from the city, the more frequent were these tiny stone-built dwellings. Very quaint and picturesque to us as visitors, but can you imagine having to actually live there? Especially in the harsh snowy winters Tajikistan gets. The poverty here is something I have never experienced before, and while many in the group don’t seem to think about it, I find it very sobering.

After a long day of driving, we come to the Zarafshan Valley in north-west Tajikistan, in a mountainous region containing many mountain ranges (Zarafshan Range, Turkestan Range, Hisar range, Gissar Range, the Fann Mountains…)

ЗEраBшaн = Zeravshan

The floor of this glacial valley is dotted with more tiny stone houses, and the Zerafshan River snakes along the bottom.

Following the valley a while longer, we eventually reach our destination. The newly-built 2 storey wooden cabin is the pride and joy of its owner, and although I can’t understand his dialect it is written large in the proud welcoming smile on his face as he shows us around. The others are not impressed with the food that has been provided, but having witnessed evidence of the poverty in this country I am impressed and grateful at the thoughtful spread of Tajik sweets and fruits that await us. When the main dish is served, it is a traditional Plov cooked up in a homemade cauldron in the small kitchen at the top of the garden path. In poorer countries meat is often both prized and scarce, so while others again complain about portions I am again grateful. Not only for the food and the enthusiastic service, but also for the chance to sample genuine traditional cuisine from the region. 

After food there are just a few daylight hours remaining, so Rachel and I decide to go for an explore. Following the river away from the road, we enjoy the peace that the remoteness brings.

Soon we come to a bridge across the river, which we decide to take.

The field we find ourselves in contains this slightly rundown shepherding complex, with shelter for the animals and their human protectors.

We continue up a narrow track climbing the valley side, and keep going until we risk running out of time. We do stop for a short while, to absorb the view and to discuss the different travelling philosophies in the group (Rachel’s and mine are very similar) and to talk about the region and its culture, and the charm of the guesthouse we are staying at.

Then we must head back down so that we can get back before dark. Our sleeping area is simply the open-plan upstairs of the guest house, but it is surprisingly warm and cosy. There are no beds, instead we are each provided with sleeping rolls. I think they are made of felt, and while they don’t look like much my goodness they were comfy! I loved my sleeping roll :)

I get to see some wildlife too – someone knows I am keen on nature, and rushes to tell me about the huge moth in the bathroom. It’s beautiful, and bigger than my hand, but sadly something eats it during the night and by morning nothing is left but a few pieces of wings…

We only have a 2 day weekend here, so the next day we must return to Dushanbe. But not before our main excursion into the Fann Mountains, and the popular Iskanderkul Lake, named after Alexander the Great. 

We walk around the lake a bit, and follow a path along its outflow, Iskander Darya, which eventually joins up with the Zerafshan River we saw the previous day.

This turquoise coloured mountain lake lies at an altitude of 2,195 metres and is fed by glaciers, so when we return to its shores and go for a swim it is bloody cold! So cold that my body aches, and I can’t stand the pain for long so after a brief swim around I am out of there.

We all want to stay here longer, and several of us petition to be allowed to travel further, to the ancient town of Panjikent near the border with Uzbekistan. Unfortunately though we have work the next day, and the drivers are insistent that we must leave in time to return before dark. Having seen the state of some of the roads we know that this is sensible, and reluctantly we return to our vehicles for the trip home.

This trip has been far too brief, but very special.

Hike Tajikistan

September 2012 saw me hitting the work-luck jackpot, and getting the opportunity to live in Tajikistan, Central Asia, for a month. Living in the capital Dushanbe with local people, and getting the chance to experience some of the culture there in a way I would not be able to as a tourist, this was a real once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me.

Further good luck had it that the colleague organising this year’s trip, Rachel, is someone who I get on with really well, and who also has a passion for independent travel, experiencing new cultures, and making the most of opportunities.

The first of these opportunities came during our first weekend off, in the form of a hike through the Khodja-Obi-Garm plateau in the Varzob Valley, north of Dushanbe.

Map of the region from Google Maps. The red marker shows Varzob, the black dot below it is Dushanbe.

Rachel had organised a guide for the trip from a local walking group called Hike Tajikistan, Denis the guide in turn organised our transport to the starting point of the hike, Hoji-Obi-Garm resort.

The drive to the start was fascinating, passing incredible scenery and seeing snippets of daily life from this poorest of post-Soviet Central Asian nations.

The hike started part-way up a mountain, and followed a track further up the mountainside. 

The views were breath-taking, and even though I was feeling awful having been the first (but not the last!) of the group to succumb to the poor food-hygiene standards in this part of the world, and therefore not having eaten in two days, I was still able to appreciate the beauty of the place.

Once up on the plateau, we passed various small farmsteads. The animals and the farming here is so different to the UK, it’s fascinating to see. I loved these fat-tailed sheep especially.

Continuing along the plateau, my energy levels were extremely low, but I was determined not to miss out. I know that this was a little irresponsible, and potentially selfish as if I got into trouble then the rest of the group would have to help me, but I couldn’t bear the thought of missing out as I knew I would never get this chance again.

Luckily though I just about managed to keep up, as we made it to the furthest point of our hike, a gorge with glaciers for a backdrop.

Stopping for lunch, to my surprise I found this grasshopper also taking lunch – eating my trousers! Being technical trousers of manmade fabric I have no idea why the grasshopper thought them food, but it was very tenacious indeed and I was unable to scare it off. In the end, I had to pluck the greedy thing off me and put it down somewhere more suitable.

The return leg took a slightly different route, following the small Pugus River for a while, and taking in more spectacular scenery.

We also stopped at a Holy Site, where white tissues and ribbons were tied to this juniper tree as prayers.

Denis pointed out this impressive fossil in the path, pouring water over it to make it more visible. I am always awed by the fact that you can find fossils of sea creatures up on mountains, what an incredible place is our planet?

Eventually our hike returned to the starting point, and I was shattered but very pleased I had done it as it was great to escape the city and see some more of this fascinating region.

This Lada 4x4 was parked near our minibuses. I developed kind of a liking for them over the month in Tajikistan!

Voyage on the Sir Winston Churchill ~ part 6

March 1997

Thursday, 27^th March

We arrived in Swanage after travelling across an angry sea, with high winds whipping foam off the waves. As in Fowey we were at anchor rather than moored in a dock, but this time shore leave was impossible as it was far too rough for the small tender to go ashore. Instead, everyone stayed aboard and worked on their acts for the Sods Opera to be held that evening.

After lunch all hands assembled aft for the next part of the inter-watch competition: the quiz. The Mate asked the questions while the Doctor ensured fair play. Each member of a Watch was pitted against their opposite numbers from the other Watches, and were asked questions that involved locating something technical on the ship, or tying a particular knot correctly. Our number 8 Charlotte scored first for us, but the point was disallowed. I was next to score, and this time the point stayed. Throughout the quiz we made an amazing recovery in the rankings. We had been about 8 points down against the other Watches at the start, but by the end we were second to the leaders Main Watch by only one point.

At 2000hrs all were watches were abandoned again, and all hands were called to the afterdeck for the evening’s entertainment. I had been in the galley again, this time on mess duty, so was very glad to be called out. The Watch Officers distributed bottles of Becks to their Watches, and charismatic trainee, Ben, was called upon to be Master of Ceremonies.

The running order for the night was:

Mizzen Watch: ‘Sailing on Churchill’ (I wrote our song to the tune of ‘Waltzing Matilda’. The writing of it compensation for the fact I am so dreadful a singer!)

Ben: reciting a poem he had written

Main Watch: ‘Main Watch People’ (Their song to the tune of Pulp’s ‘Common People’)

Fore Watch: ‘Sailing Over the Sea’ (Their song to the tune of ‘The Animals Went in Two by Two’)

                                      

The permanent crew members then sang a selection of shanties and comical songs. Requests were taken, and a good time was had by all, laughing, joking, drinking and singing in true sailor fashion.

Friday, 28^th March

We upped anchor and left Swanage Bay for our final day of sailing back to Poole. There was an air of sadness as we entered harbour, knowing that the voyage was over and this was to be our final night together aboard the ship. We were to wake up and bang our heads on the ceiling or bunk above us for the last time.

We had our usual tidy up once the springs and mooring lines had been secured. We also had to put up a small marquee on the aft deck as there was to be a cocktail party for the Sail Training Association trustees that night while we all went out in the town.

Once all aboard was ship shape everyone sat down in the marquee for the wash-up, the Captain’s debrief of the voyage. He covered all of the gruesome details, even shaming those seasick individuals who had puked into the wind and “got their own back”! The Doctor had organised a sweepstake for how many nautical miles we would cover during the voyage, and the winner who guessed nearest to the actual total of 623 nautical miles claimed a huge £5 prize. The inter-watch competition results were also revealed: first was Main Watch, followed by Fore Watch, and last but by no means least was my Mizzen Watch. A crate of Becks was awarded to the winners, and silly leaving gifts were also given to the Watch Leaders. More Becks was distributed to the rest of the crew, and everyone hung around taking group photographs and swapping postal addresses.

                                                     

Once everything was finished we all went out, trying to find a pub that would let us all in as we were quite a large group (the Cook’s Assistant was supposed to have booked somewhere, but hadn’t). We were finally allowed in the Poole Arms, so while I settled down to a coke as I couldn’t get served again, although one of the older trainees did smuggle a drink over for me, giving me my first ever taste of a G&T, and two of our Watch went off to buy our Watch Leader’s leaving present of a bottle of rum.

Things got going full-swing, and the night was certainly cheered up when trainees Ben and Gordon arrived in skirts and make up! Soon everyone was drinking and singing, and the 0000hrs end of shore leave quickly came around. Our Watch had clubbed together for a sneaky bottle of rum and some coke though, and our Watch Leader managed to sneak us off ship for a few more hours during the changing of the watch. The revelry continued, and the last of us managed to stagger back aboard at about 0300hrs.

Saturday, 29^th March

We woke up at 0500hrs and just about managed to roll out of bed. We packed all of our things eventually, no mean feat as my bag seemed to have mysteriously shrunk during the voyage, though looking around I wasn’t alone as several others were also jumping on their bags to get them closed.

We had an extra long, extra thorough happy hour, took down the marquee and loaded on fresh stores before signing off and collecting our valuables back from the Purser. Everyone had ordered lithographs of the ship, and we all signed each other’s as a memento of the great time together.

Skippy, who came aboard in St Malo having cycled from Greece to France

Before our Watch signed off we presented Amanda with her token bottle of rum. We then had to hand back our smocks, harnesses and pillowcases to Rupert, the Boatswain’s Assistant, which seemed to prove it really was all over. There were big hugs all round on the quayside as people began to leave to return to their lives on land. My family arrived too to bring me home again, a slightly more worldly teenager than the one dropped at that same quayside just two weeks before.

                                                        

                                                   

Voyage on the Sir Winston Churchill ~ part 5

March 1997

Monday, 24^th March

I was woken at 0600hrs for duty as Boatswain’s Day Worker, during which we were under the command of Rupert, the Boatswain’s Mate. Our Watch hadn’t contributed to Boatswain’s Day Worker up until now as we had been too low on numbers, but with Steve’s arrival we joined the rota. The Boatswain had a scary reputation, so I was relieved that I had missed most of the shift as it had begun prior to our joining the rota. I only had to join in with scrubbing the coach house roof before finishing at 1000hrs, and once this was over I rejoined my Watch on duty.

We were on second dog watch again, but on this occasion cloud spoiled the views of the sunset and the comet. We spent another night out of harbour at sea, heading toward the southern English coast.

Tuesday, 25^th March

         

                          

We arrived in Fowey, Cornwall, around midday, and were given shore leave. We were not in a dock this time but anchored in the middle of the small channel, so the lifeboat and rubber dubby were run as tender, providing a taxi service between ship and shore.

Whilst ashore I wrote more postcards and bought some souvenirs and ice cream before catching the 1600hrs tender back to ship at the end of shore leave.

                                          

                             

We were allowed off again in the evening to once again ‘splice the mainbrace’, and we even had a ship’s party organised. A group of us somehow managed to find the most boring pub in all Cornwall in which to wait for the party to begin at the Galleon Yacht Club, so a few of us moved on to somewhere more lively. We had a few drinks before getting to the party, where I unfortunately had time for only a couple of dances and a quick drink before catching the tender back again for my 2200-0000hrs three-man anchor watch. Once everybody was back again after the party we all sat up a while talking before bed.

Wednesday, 26^th March

More shore leave was allowed in the morning, so we decided to head off for a Watch Cornish cream tea, finding the Victoria Tea Rooms which fit the bill perfectly. Great minds think alike, and within minutes it seemed that half of the ship’s trainees had all found the same place – much to the consternation of the ladies working there, as 20-something of us settled down to delicious tea and scones.

                                            

Our Watch then went for a walk around the small lanes and pathways weaving their way between the houses of Fowey, before returning to the ship. 

                                                  

We had to queue on the beach for a while waiting for space on the tender, and once everyone was back on board we raised the anchors. It was the job of the Boatswain’s Day Workers to work down in the chain lockers as the anchors were raised, and they came up so covered in mud from the anchor chains that they literally had to be hosed down on the deck.

                                             

Before heading back out to sea we first travelled further up the channel to take on more water. The ship carries 35 tonnes of water, but this is soon used up when you have a ‘Happy Hour’ each day (“a clean ship is a happy ship!”) and 55 people need to use the showers and the heads.

Unfortunately we couldn’t leave Fowey in quite the same style as we had arrived as it was too rough to man the yards, but once out of shelter four of us went aloft to set the square sail and the course. I even managed to get a photo of the view from the crow’s nest, the wonkiness of the picture testimony to the roll of the ship in the choppy water.

                                                 

We spent yet another bumpy night at sea, this time headed along the coast for Swanage Bay.