My Afghanistan Adventure: Raw and Real Stuff I Actually Did
Right, so people kept asking me “Why Afghanistan?” or even “Are you nuts?”. Anyways, after tons of research and sorting visas (which was a proper headache, trust me), I finally booked flights. Landed in Kabul feeling pretty pumped but also knowing I needed to keep my eyes open.
First, I tackled the city chaos. Kabul Airport was intense – dust, noise, and everyone moving fast. Grabbed a local driver my contact recommended. Weaving through traffic where lanes are just a suggestion? Wild. Went straight to the Bird Market (Ka Faroshi). Crowds everywhere, birds squawking, men shouting prices – pure sensory overload. Haggled for some dried fruit, tasted weird stuff offered, kept my bag close. Felt completely out of place but amazing somehow.
Needed something calmer next. Went up to the Gardens of Babur. Paid the tiny entrance fee. Found a spot under a tree away from most people. Pulled out my notebook, scribbled down my first impressions while looking at the old walls and terraces. Peaceful moment in the middle of the madness.
Day two, I headed for the hills. Hired a 4×4 with a driver who knew the way to Panjshir Valley. That road was pure dust and rocks shaking us non-stop. Stopped near the river, skipped stones, felt the crazy quiet after Kabul’s roar. Clambered up a small hill near the Massoud Monument. Wind hitting my face, staring at the valley spread out below – breathtaking view, literally took my breath away for a second. Shot some video just panning slowly.
Back to Kabul, food time. My guide buddy took me to a proper local kebab joint, no tourists in sight. Sat on the floor cushions. Ordered mounds of kofta and chaplee kebab, fresh naan still hot. Used hands mostly, got messy. Tasted smokey and incredible, way better than fancy restaurants. Stomach felt heavy but happy later.
Wanted some history. Visited the National Museum. Saw those stunning ancient Buddhas they salvaged. Guards watching everyone closely. Felt a bit sad seeing the damaged stuff but also impressed by what survived. Didn’t linger too long.
Big trip out west. Caught a super early UN flight from Kabul to Herat. Scariest landing ever, dropping down fast onto a short runway. Herat felt different, older. Stood by the massive Citadel of Alexander, feeling tiny next to those ancient walls. Got permission to climb part of it. Touch those worn bricks, imagining centuries passing.
Had to see those famous minarets. Went to the Musallah Complex. Just walked slowly around the damaged bases and remaining minaret. Sun casting long shadows. Took photos trying to capture how they leaned and their intricate patterns. So quiet there, peaceful vibe.
Market madness. Hit Herat’s Old City bazaar after the minarets. Got utterly lost in the tiny alleys covered with domes. Copper workers hammering away, smell of spices heavy in the air. Bargained hard for some rough turquoise and an old carpet seller showed me knots for ages. Carried the small rug rolled up on my back for rest of trip. Back at the guesthouse, examined the colors in daylight – deep blues and reds.
Last supper Afghan style. Before flying back to Kabul, my Herat host’s family invited me for dinner. Sat in their carpeted living room. Huge platter of Qabuli Pulao arrived – rice, raisins, carrots, big chunks of lamb. Everyone eating from the same dish near me. Used right hand, scooped rice, talked best we could with lots of hand gestures and laughing. Felt honored honestly.
One last crazy road trip. From Kabul, hired a driver and beat-up truck for Band-e Amir Lakes. Long journey, damn truck broke down once. Dust got everywhere. Finally saw those insane turquoise-blue lakes against the desert brown. Water was freezing but crystal clear. Sat by the edge, skipped stones again. Pure magic after the dusty chaos getting there. Pics don’t do the color justice.
Final thing before leaving: Near Kabul airport area, found a shop selling old military stuff. Guy behind the counter didn’t speak English. Used lots of pointing. Got a real Soviet-era Kalashnikov manual and some cool old Afghan coins. Weird souvenirs maybe, but felt authentic.
Flying out was bittersweet. Crazy difficult place sometimes. Logistics were rough. You need your wits about you constantly, no doubt. But the people I met, the landscapes burned into my brain, the taste of that smoky kebab – absolutely unforgettable. Would I go back? Tough question. Maybe someday, if things calm down properly. That list? Definitely earned it. One hell of an adventure.
