Another early morning start, though this time we head to a museum that this chap made about his great great grandfather who was a poet and a musician in the local area. Here is the home-stay owner playing a musical instrument that was invented by his great great grandfather:
After that Tajik cultural gem, we again hit the road for another 7 hour car journey. But just down the road, or at least it was probably only an hour away, was a large hill featuring 600 bronze age petroglyphs.
Three Tajik kids joined us at the bottom of the hill for the walk up. We all struggled up the hill as the altitude grew and the air became harder to breathe. The kids were nailing it, one of them was only wearing one and half sandals and still outpacing me.
Suitably sweaty and breathless, we made our way down the hill with the Tajik kids still in tow. When we reached the car, on cue, the kids demanded their payment. I gave them a load of sweets, but they looked at me like I had deeply insulted them. Instead, I resorted to some sweaty rolled up Somoni. Still they looked pissed off. But alas, that's all they would receive from their short walk up the hill that morning.
As we made our way onto Murgab, we finally veered away from the Afghan border and started to head in-land to the west of Tajikistan and edging closer to the Chinese border. The Panj River was soon traded for vast open desert:
Away from the stunning scenery of Afghanistan, this new scenery was fairly monotonous and the 7 hours in the car began to actually feel like 7 hours in a car.
A lunch break is a tiny mountainous village broke up the journey. This village defined remote living. There was barely any greenery, and what looked like a handful of outside toilet for the entire village to use.
Somehow, we were served a lunch of fish in a little home-stay whilst watching an English language documentary of Che Guevara. A bizarre lunchtime stop that juxtaposed the remoteness of the village. Life must be hard in this village - the winters savage, the journeys long but it is home to a number of people, just going about their daily lives.
On the drive to Murgab, the landscape changes from dusty and expansive to green and lush, even heading passed a vast lake (this must be where our fish lunch came from!).
The never ending journey continues, as the road deteriorates and becomes more and more potholed. We are soon in the single digits of mph, trying not to wreck the 4x4 before we reach Murgab. Roads like this suddenly become dreamlike:
Finally we arrive in Murgab. It has a busy vibe about it, and feels like a stop over town for travellers. The hostel we are staying in is packed (for central Asian standards), heading along the Pamir Highway in both directions. We stay at the Pamir Hotel, a basic lodgings but comfortable enough for the journey with a good food selection, which felt far more Chinese in its offerings.
Another unusual site was the Chinese armed forces, again in large numbers in Murgab. At one point a number of solider were in our hotel trying to negotiate some rooms for the more senior looking members of their party. A Chinese Humvee is the last vehicle you expect to be parked outside a Pamiri hostel.
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