A Day In The Countryside

Roaring up into the mouth of the Salang Pass in a beat-up old Toyota with Lauryn, Shuja and Parwani, we stopped at the river to take in a bit of the scenery and to get some air.


I couldn't resist taking a picture of the some of the ubiquitous Soviet flotsam.






We came upon this fierce looking bearded guy in a turban, carrying a long-barrelled shotgun. He was out hunting birds.

He walked up to me bold as a bullock and kissed me on both cheeks and introduced himself as Assan Ullah.

And a pleasant Salaam Aleikum to yourself as well, bubba, says I tae him.

We doubled back and turned up the Panjshir Valley road. There's fish in the Panjshir River. I expect they will take a fly. We headed deeper into the mountains, the more sublime the further north we drove. Ancient mud-adobe flat roofed villages, goats and chickens, wrecked Soviet tanks at the side of the road, the wildflowers coming up among them all.

Jinns in the mulberry trees, roses coming up, on up into the valley, to the Tomb of the Martyr, Ahmed Shah Massoud, the Lion of Panjshir.