NO-BRAINER IN TRAJIK-ISTAN- The Reality of Long Term Travel

...previously coming from Veshab, Tajikistan......

Dushanbe and Bokhtar

Our plan from Sarvoda was to take a shared 4WD to Margeb, another nearby village up in the mountains. On discovering the vehicles only left in the late afternoon, we decided to change the plan and high tail it to Dushanbe first, and discover the joys of the Yagnob Valley at a later stage.

The road from Sarvoda to Dushanbe was incredible- even in a land of beautiful road trips. During the first half there was a spectacular steep sided gorge on either side of us. A series of tunnels of various lengths marked the road, including the infamous “Tunnel of Death”. Anzob Tunnel (it's proper name), is 5,040 meters long, took about 15 minutes to navigate, and was every bit as scary as we'd been told. It was pitch black, and the only illumination were the car lights of various brightness looming up suddenly out of the darkness. Although apparently slightly improved recently, the tunnel is still very dangerous and has no lighting or ventilation. The thick fumes made it seem like driving through a dense fog, and at times we could only see two or three meters ahead. We could hardly comprehend how the drivers see what's going on. Perhaps they don't. Some were driving in a wild way and overtaking in the darkness, but thank goodness our driver seemed to be quite careful. We couldn't understand why there wouldn't at least be cat's eyes or reflective paint on the walls. Apparently cyclists dread this stretch of tunnel, and we could certainly see why!

After the tunnel, we entered into the open fresh air again, and saw the perspective had changed. The barren brown mountains were now greener, and patches of snow lay about on craggy topped mountains. The road was good (for Tajikistan), our driver calm (for Tajikistan), and we greatly enjoyed sitting back and appreciating the surroundings.

It was pleasant to be in the small capital of Tajikistan, Dushanbe. Not as cosmopolitan as other capitals such as Almaty, or even Tashkent, it nevertheless had all the city comforts and we made the most of our amazingly luxurious room, abundant ATMs and a huge variety of food (shame about the same old crappy internet).

Our fancy (for us!) bathroom, Dushanbe

In our hostel every single one of the other guests were either coming from the Pamir Highway, or planning to go there from Dushanbe. We felt a bit out of place with our strange train plans (see below)! However, we enjoyed catching up on the latest traveller's gossip, and marvelled once again at the Central Asian traveller. People who travel in this part of the world are a different breed to elsewhere- especially South East Asia. They are generally adventurous, seeking something unusual, motivated and energetic and genuinely interested in the culture and nature around them. We were particularly pleased to talk to a young English couple who had driven a VW Golf from the UK. Their offer one evening of a wee dram or two from their bottle of Laphroaig whisky was a real treat! Thanks!

Public transport in the city was plentiful and cheap, and we quickly learnt the routes we needed to know in order to get around. The drivers were funny and grumpy, often shouting and beeping their horns at vehicles in their way. The downside was the heat inside the buses. Dushanbe was much hotter than the Fann Mountains area, and 40-45 degree days were the norm. Again, the dry heat was not as draining as the humidity of the tropics, but we did tend to keep our outings to the mornings and evenings. We always felt safe on the buses, not even thinking about pickpockets or sleazy men- it just isn't the way out here. People are generally very polite on public transport- men and younger people mostly standing up for old folks and women.

Fountain, Dushanbe

Backstreets of Dushanbe

Mosaics galore, city centre, Dushanbe

Stalin vodka for 90 cents- why not?! Dushanbe

Amongst the sights in Dushanbe we enjoyed was the Mevlana Yakub Charki Mosque, which we happened to catch at sunset, as men were pouring in. We weren't sure why there were no women praying. Sal had forgotten her scarf, so waited outside, while Rich entered and listened to a beautiful call to prayer inside, that wasn't broadcast on loud speakers. The tallest flagpole in the world, various cool gardens and lakes and the magnificent Deco statue of Ismoil Somoni (founder of the 10^th century Samanid dynasty) were other highlights.

The (disputed at 165 meters) largest flagpole in the world, Dushanbe

Ahh, the bling! Dushanbe monument

Mosaic statue of the poet, Rudaki, Dushanbe

Sal dwarfed by grand rotunda, Dushanbe

Getting a professional job, for once, Dushanbe

LOVE this operating mode!! Dushanbe

Glorious Ismoil Somoni statue in central Dushanbe

We made the most of more diverse foods, and scoffed Turkish kebabs, fresh salads, rotisserie chickens, pizza, fantastic fresh breads, and a large variety of fresh and dried fruits.....and of course the ever present ice cream! This is a country of an incredible array of snacks, and we constantly travelled with little plastic bags full of goodies. It was heaven!

Turkish meal, Dushanbe

The most interesting meal was at the famous landmark Rohat Teahouse. We were somewhat awed at the magnificent setting, and overwhelmed at the massive menu including a full page of intriguing sounding salads with English translations. We decided we just couldn't go past the “Herring with a Fur Coat” salad, and at the last minute added on the “Mali Whim”, just for fun. They were both delicious, but we couldn't help wondering what the “Evil Man” salad would have been like. It's such a treat for us to be able to eat at such fancy places, as the prices are very low.

Grand interior at Rohat Teahouse, Dushanbe

Menu of exotic (and weird!) salads

Rohat's salad menu (mostly about US$1.50)

Herring Under a Fur Coat and Mali Whim salads, Rohat Teahouse, Dushanbe

Many older Soviet-era apartment blocks and public buildings in Dushanbe (and probably other parts of Central Asia) are very funky, and some have magnificent mosaic murals on the sides. Apparently these are dying out as the buildings become updated. We loved them, along with the designs of some of the buildings themselves.

Space themed mural on apartment block, Dushanbe

Vibrant mural, Dushanbe

Funky old Soviet era apartment block, Dushanbe

Our next idea was to explore the possibility of a train trip to southern Tajikistan. We knew it was extremely hot in Khatlon province in August, but we thought a lovely train journey followed by a quick stay might be bearable.

We made our way to the train station to begin the challenging process of finding out what days and times trains departed from Dushanbe. You wouldn't think it would so difficult, but the information was almost impossible to come by. The combination of our bad language skills, no English being spoken at the train station, no schedules posted anywhere, an outdated Tajik railways website and nothing online about it had us confused and we nearly gave up. The helpful guesthouse we stayed at were finally able to call someone and find out the timetable, for which we were very grateful (as it was different from the one we were planning to use!). We still weren't 100% sure which route the train took, but once again, decided just to go for it!

Our route from Uzbek to Penjikent, around Ayni, Dushanbe and Kurgonteppe

There was a lot of staring as we arrived on the platform, and when we asked where to buy a ticket, we were told it was free as we were tourists! This may be because travellers are such a rare sight going to this part of Tajikistan. Woohoo- saved US$1.50 each! Upon boarding, we were quickly approached by a senior conductor, and asked to follow him to a fancier carriage (we were actually quite happy where we were). He settled us in the compartment, and tried to give us mattresses and white sheets to lie down on. We indicated we wanted to sit up and watch the scenery! He also, embarrassingly, refused to let anyone else into the carriage, and as the train filled up along the journey, that became slightly awkward. It was exactly what we didn't want, but he was only trying to be nice.

I suppose the scenery was lovely, as always in Tajikistan, but we couldn't concentrate on it. Unfortunately, it was probably one of the worst train trips we have ever been on. We knew from past experience there wouldn't be any AC, but the combination of the tiny high up window, the extreme heat and the walking pace with which the train was moving was hideous. It honestly felt like a mobile sauna. After five hours, we had nearly passed out from the intense internal heat, and stumbling out onto Khatlon station, breathing in the 45 + degrees seemed like heaven.

Train from Dushanbe to Bokhtar

Our "private" compartment, Bokhtar train

We had managed to find out the name of a potential hotel in Bokhtar, the main city in Khatlon region, and upon arrival we suspected it was probably a knocking shop. It wasn't the first we had stayed in, and the ladies were friendly enough, although we're sure they wondered what the hell we were doing there! The room was air conditioned and fine for a couple of nights, especially the price.

To be honest, the sights were thin on the ground in Bokhtar (also known by its old name Kurgonteppa). We spent a morning strolling the hot part of town full of treeless parks and statues, until we found the great bustling, crowded and mostly shady bazaar area. Here we stopped and sat at various ice cream, coffee and compote (juice) stands to rest and people watch. The ethnicities here really are a fascinating mix. At one end of the spectrum there's those with more of a Chinese look, and at the other end are the fair/blonde people with Russian backgrounds- we even saw one random redhead!

There was mostly a funny sort of reaction to us (the only tourists in town). A quick glance, followed by averted eyes and pretty much choosing to ignore us, as though they had no idea how to interact with such strange people! Beggars were out in absolute force in this area- many more than we have ever seen in Central Asia before. They were not very persistent, however, when we waved them off easily. The temperature was at least five degrees hotter than Dushanbe.

Curious kids, Bokhtar

The teppe (hill) in Bokhtar

Rich happy with his plov, Bokhtar

Finding an alternative back to Dushanbe was amusing (we literally could not attempt that train trip again). We spent several hours trying to find out about a big bus we had heard made the trip back to Dushanbe (a rarity in Tajikistan). After asking at two bus stations, and many locals in town, no-one had any idea when or where it departed from, or if it left at all. We resigned ourselves we would have to take one of the shared taxis with a potentially mad driver back to the city. Turning up at the bus station the next morning, we were surrounded, as all the drivers vied to get us into their shared taxis. We spent some time deciding, and then noticed the big bus had just pulled up behind us! You couldn't make it up! For a cheap price, AC and luxury seats, we comfortably got back to Dushanbe in three hours less than the train and were dropped close to our hostel. The roads in that part of the country were superior to where we'd been travelling, and many big Chinese trucks and equipment were constructing bridges and improving and expanding the roads on the way.

Upon arrival in Dushanbe, Rich needed to see a doctor, as he was having issues with his vision and was having trouble focusing and seeing double (not from too many beers this time!). We discovered the next three days would be public holidays, and everything would be closed, so we immediately rushed out and ended up spending the entire day seeing doctors and having tests done at various clinics. Unfortunately, it was somewhat more serious than we had anticipated. The various eye tests showed his eyes were in perfect health, and the helpful and sympathetic ophthalmologist strongly suggested he have an MRI and referred us to a neurosurgeon. Although the MRI results showed there was no life threatening problem with the brain, it was obvious his issue still needed sorting out.

The doctors decided together Rich should be given a treatment of an assortment of drugs, vitamins and electrolytes to sort out the problem. Thankfully, he was able to partake in day visits to the clinic, and avoid a hospital stay. An interesting fact was that not only did we have to buy all the medicines at the pharmacy ourselves (no prescription needed), but also all the syringes, needles, drips and tubes for the injections!

So, every morning we would take a marshrutka over to the clinic and see the nurse for three bum injections and a slow drip with two drugs/vitamins into the blood stream. An additional trio of tablets three times a day rounded out the cocktail. The rest of the day he had strict instructions to rest and not become overheated.

The patient, Dushanbe hospital

Some of the medicines prescribed

It's kind of ironic, as ever since he was layed up in the UK in 2016 with an agonizing bad back and sciatica, he has been extremely motivated to stay healthy, and help himself to stay reasonably fit with exercise. His back, sciatica and even his long-term dodgy knee have all been under control for the past few years due to his focus and determination he would not be at the mercy of doctors and their drugs. Unfortunately, he had no control over his brain (those who know him will attest to that!). 

As Sal coped with the amusing, but trying effect of the drugs on Rich's moods (happy and chatty as though he was constantly drunk!), and his eyes became slowly better day by day, we breathed a big sigh of relief. Although, we had a back up plan to evacuate back to the UK for diagnosis and treatment, the thought of months of waiting for appointments in an unsympathetic health service didn't fill us with glee.

Dushanbe is small, but we were very impressed with the care and medical service he received. As all the clinics were private, he was seen pretty much immediately, and the costs were so low, we couldn't believe it. Most of the facilities seemed new and modern and all had a few people that could speak some English. The ophthalmologist even gave us her email and private number to keep in touch over the holiday weekend. We compared this service with the public health system in Britain or Australia, or how much it would have cost at private clinics in those countries, and considered that in a way, we were lucky to be here when it happened.

People often ask us about whether we have travel insurance (no) and what happens if we become ill during our travels. Up until now we have been mostly healthy, and have treated any minor ailments with a trip to the pharmacy. In most countries we travel in, prescriptions are not needed, and almost everything can be bought over the counter. We felt this incident was a good example of what happens if we become unwell. We use the local facilities if they are suitable, and if not, we can return to our homes for more complicated issues. Simple!

By now it was mid-August, and the temperature had dropped a  few degrees in Dushanbe. Once we had satisfied ourselves Rich was on the mend, we planned a new, somewhat reduced route to return to the Zerafshan Valley, and continue further north from there.

By the way, thank you to those of you who helped Rich from afar with information and love. 

Details for accommodation and transport for the places in this blog:

Accommodation:

Dushanbe- Pamir Hostel, 230 somoni/US$24 with breakfast

Bokhtar/Kurgonteppa, Sairi Orzu Hotel- 120 somoni/US$12.70 no breakfast

Transport

Sarvoda to Dushanbe, shared taxi, 50 somoni/US$5.20 each, 2.5 hours

Dushanbe bus/minibus/trolley car 1-1.5 somoni/US$0.10- 0.16 each per hop

Dushanbe taxi short trip 10 somoni/US$1

Dushanbe to Bokhtar/Kurgonteppa, train, free!, 5 hours

Bokhtar train station to Bokhtar hotel, share taxi, 10 somoni each, 10 minutes

Bokhtar town cenetre to bus station, taxi, 10 somoni, 10 mins

Bokhtar to Dushanbe, Asian Express bus, 15 somoni/US$1.60 each, 2 hours

And for anyone who is interested in the details about the costs of medical treatment in Dushanbe, here is a breakdown:

Shifo Eye Clinic- consultation with ophthalmologist and four eye tests on machines 100 somoni/US$10.60 (two hour wait)

American Eye clinic- retina eye test on machine 120 somoni/US$12.70 (seen immediately)

Nurafzo Hospital- MRI 389/US$41 som (seen immediately)

Nurafzo Hospital- consultation with neurosurgeon 35 somoni/U$3.70 (seen immediately)

Shifo Clinc- daily injections and drip for five days 33 somoni/US$3.50 a day (seen immediately)

Medication from pharmacy- 1100 som/US$116.50 (no prescription needed)

Total medical costs: 1909 somoni/US$220

.....continuing north to Margeb, Tajikistan.......

ROADWORKS AHEAD - Veshab, Zerafshan Valley, Tajikistan

....previously coming from Haft Kul, Tajikistan.....

After a rest day in Penjikent, mainly spent struggling with the internet connection (and losing), we kept moving onto the upper end of the Zerafshan Valley. This area is even more remote than Haft-Kul, and even less information is to be found about it in books and on the internet. The only thing to do was turn up and see what was going on! The drive east from Penjikent to Ayni was beautifully scenic, through the wide valley with an amazing variety of crops growing, and watermelon sellers lying on mats under the trees waiting for customers.

Our destination was Veshab, a place we had read was a short drive from Ayni by shared 4WD. We were lucky to have a lovely taxi driver from Penjikent who dropped us exactly where the vehicles left for further travel up the valley. After a chat with people waiting there, we ended up in a car with two policeman and some other passengers. There was a great mime show about the road being closed, but we were assured we could walk part of the way and pick up transport on the other side of the road block. Without any other information, we decided to go for it.

After more than an hour on a rough and bumpy pot hole-filled road, we came to the point where the road was closed. We looked up the long steep hill where the driver was pointing, and felt our hearts sink. We set off and tried to keep up with our fellow passengers. Our packs were heavy and the walk up and down the steep, dusty and hot mountains back down to the road was completely exhausting. We felt drained as we collapsed on the other side. Rich went to investigate the road with some drivers and witnessed another landslide into the river where the road used to be, not far from where he was standing. After a rest, we continued on for nearly another hour, admiring the sweeping views of the raging river hundreds of feet down below, and finally to Veshab village and our homestay.

View from our vehicle, the Zerafshan Valley

Looking up at what lies ahead, Zerafshan Valley

Starting the "detour", Zerafshan Valley

Landslide part 1

Landslide part 2

Landslide part 3

Our experience in Veshab was quite different to Shing, as we were hosted by the local English teacher and his family, so there were fewer communication problems. The accommodation was not quite charming, but still perfectly adequate. We had our own room with mattress, cushions and doonas galore, a large table/dining area to eat and relax at, and an outside smelly drop toilet and separate shower room with hot water. The family was kind and the food was really tasty (yet again!). We were delighted by the two littlest ones in the family, Salmon and Bono. Their little grins every time they had to pass us were so cute. It has to be said, the drop toilet system people use here is not great. Unlike many other countries we have been to where peat, sawdust, or some other absorbent substance is added after going to the toilet to soak up the smell, here they don't use anything. The smell can sometimes really permeate the air, and isn't very pleasant, although, to be fair, we did actually get used to it in the few days we were there.

Little Bono, Veshab homestay

Little Salmon, Veshab homestay

Breakfast Veshab homestay (note the mobile phone shaped biscuit!)

Outside toilet, Veshab homestay (wish we could add the smell!)

We found Veshab to be quite a special place, and after we recovered from our journey to arrive there, we began to relax and explore, and really liked the village. Apparently there were 2000 inhabitants, and during our few days there we felt like we had contact with a fair few of them. It was lovely to see familiar faces and have them remember us and greet us like old friends. A few of the kids spoke a bit of English, but mostly it was the usual few mixed words of Tajik and Russian, sign language and smiles. People had an amusing habit of continuing to speak to us in Tajik or Russian, even when it was clear we only spoke English, as though they hoped we might understand a word or two. We noticed, that although the women were more shy than the men, a few young women who were home from working or studying in Dushanbe for the summer were very confident and much more forward in approaching us.

Village elders lined up in the shade

Friendly man outside Veshab shop

Lovely family, Veshab

Local beauty, Veshab

What a handsome man (not sure about granny in the background!), Veshab

Simple, happy man, Veshab

The village had one main “street”, running alongside a stream and most of the newer part of Veshab was along this. Another, older part of the village, with very rustic stone and mud brick houses spread up the hill and toward the many gardens people worked on in summer. It was the main apricot harvest time, and the fruit was EVERYWHERE, being picked, dried, made into jam.....you name it, they did it with apricots! Apparently, it had been a particularly good season, so they were making the most of preserving them for winter. Donkeys were a very common form of transport, and the poor creatures were in demand and loaded up during the busy time. Although it felt very remote to us, we were informed that the valley continued on for another 170 km to a glacier, with about 50 more villages after Veshab!

Veshab houses

Mystery woman in red, Veshab

Laundry day, Veshab

Typical style "new" village house, Veshab

Poor old donkey, Veshab

Off to work, Veshab

"Old" part of Veshab village

Drying apricots EVERYWHERE

Making apricot jam, Veshab

We were shown around the village by our host one morning, invited to see how the 1000 year old mill stone ran, ate home made samsas with a group of women in their home, and had tea on a farm on top of an amazing view point looking for miles up and down the valley. It was quite pleasant to have a translator for once, although generally we do like to be independent. We also were shown the area each villager takes their wheat in order to have it separated by donkeys walking around in circles on it. It was all tossed in the air, helped by the reliable wind that began every evening about 7pm, which just left the grain. It took the whole family an entire day to process about 300 kilos, to be washed, dried and then pulverized at the aforementioned mill at a later date.

Wheat growing, Veshab

1000 year old mill, Veshab

Wind winnowing by hand, donkey and wind, Veshab

Our host and son off to winnow wheat, Veshab

Lovely man on farm, Veshab

Making fresh samsa (pastrys- very yummy!), Veshab

Rare woman posing for a photo, Veshab

Old hillside village, Veshab

Spectacular setting with the river far below, Veshab

Looking down the valley from Veshab

We spent a lovely morning with the old woman who seemed to be the care taker of the local shrine, Shams-i-Tabrizi. She took a shine to us, and kept praying to us and “washing” her face, as is the custom here. People often bring their two hands down cupped over their faces as some sort of sign of respect, a greeting, or a prayer. As we were leaving, she rummaged around in her old cupboard and brought out a big bag of sweets for us.

Striking old lady, caretaker of Shams-i-Tabrizi, Veshab

After, we strolled up the hill in the direction of some music. We popped our heads around the courtyard of the village hall and saw that a huge wedding had recently begun and the whole village appeared to be attending. As we tentatively entered, a man we thought to be the father of the bride or groom, dragged us over and insisted that we sit in pride of place at one of the many tapchans with dastarkhan (area on a table or floor where food is eaten) set out with the yet untouched spread of food and drink. It was extremely embarrassing, as the entire crowd of several hundred people was watching us, and we didn't want any special treatment, but the men all insisted. They all wanted so much to talk to us, and we felt we had let them down by not being able to speak much Russian or Tajik. We constantly wondered on this trip how many great conversations we had missed out on. So, we watched the proceedings comfortably and were given tea and titbits to eat. A sneaky bottle of vodka came out and we were happy to join with the drinking. As soon as the live band started playing Tajik music many men and women got up to shake their bootys (but not together). Sal had an admirer next to her who insisted on dancing to the energetic music. As excruciating as it was, she had no choice but to dance in the middle of the entire crowd, with Rich pretending his knee was acting up. For two days after this, literally everyone we met smiled and said they had enjoyed Sal's dancing!

Wedding dastarkhan, Veshab

Wonderful colours, female wedding guests, Veshab

Enjoying the spectacle, Veshab

Man who came to dance at our table, Veshab

How embarrassing! Veshab

Another day we walked a long way up a high road where many bee keepers were harvesting honey from the hives on the hillsides amongst the juniper bushes. There were many big rocks under shady trees to rest alongside the stream, and on one break, we were adopted by one of the kindest men we have met. He insisted we come over to the tapchan (raised platform) in the shade, where he indicated we were to sit and relax. We assumed he was fixing choy, but were amazed when he, his friend and his friend's wife came out with huge plates of fried potatoes and salad (as well as choy, of course!). Although we had not long finished breakfast it tasted delicious. A bottle of vodka appeared at one point, but as it was before 10am, we politely declined. We all had fun with our Russian phrase book, with them reading out such English phrases as “I think I may be pregnant”. The man, who looked blind in one eye, and had no teeth eventually had to go back to work in his fields, but asked us to stay and rest for a while. After proudly showing us his solar torch, setting us up with pillows and even putting a blanket over Sal, he left us- happy that we were happy.

Morning walk up the hill, Veshab

Our delightful host, Veshab

Impromptu lunch, Veshab

Bee hives in the hills, Veshab

A very pleasant rest stop, Veshab

Following the river, Veshab

Stark and beautiful, Veshab

Sunset over the old village, Veshab

Evenings were generally spent in the homestay carrying on our Cribbage tournaments, crosswords and lying around being brought tea and food!

Sal in particular was dreading the return to Ayni, but we put on a brave face and hoped for the best. Our host suggested maybe they had finished the new road since our trip up the valley, but we were sure it would be the same as we had left it. We were wrong. It was a hundred times worse. We didn't realize, but there had been several more landslides, and an even longer section of road had been closed. It had obviously only recently happened, as no-one seemed to know where they were going, and the army and surveyors had to be brought in to sort things out. The shared taxi dropped us at the road block, and with heavy hearts, we set off walking slowly up the first steep hill, not knowing what was ahead. It was three hours of hot, torturous slogging up and down arduous hills, at several points climbing near vertical rises to join various paths. Poor Rich, in particular had it tough, trying to carry most of our stuff and help Sal over gorges and up and down shaley, slippery mountain sides. When we finally made it to the end, and had yet another hot uphill walk to the nearest village, we had our first encounter with a greedy taxi driver. He could obviously see we were tired and stranded, and tried to charge a ridiculous price to take us back to town. Unfortunately for him, he didn't realize quite what a foul mood Sal was in, and after she blasted him (in English, but he got the jist), he grumpily agreed to a reasonable amount. Happy birthday Sal!!

Believe it or not, this was part of the "detour"!! We were trying to follow these people!!

The "track" over the mountain

The following photo shows the highest point of our detour trail around the landslides. The small village at the top left is where we started (at river level), and we walked up to this height. The river was washed away near the village, and if you look carefully, you can see a landslide covering the road towards the bottom of the photo. The walk continued for the same distance in the other direction, with us walking all the way back down to the river to find transport.

It sounds dramatic, but when we arrived at Sarvoda, a small town transport hub on the main highway, we couldn't bear the thought of moving any more, and stayed put for a whole day doing nothing in a surprisingly pleasant little gastinitsa (hotel), for only half the price of more tourist oriented places. Our bodies were aching, and our heads were all over the place. Once we'd recovered the following day, we set off again for the big smoke- Dushanbe, the capital of Tajikistan.

Travel information for the Upper Zerafshan Valley

Accommodation:

Veshab, Omar Homestay 94 som/US$10 per person bed and breakfast, 47 som/US$5 per person for dinner

Sarvoda, Green Teahouse Gastinitsa 50 som/US$5.30 per person

Transport:

Penjikent to Ayni, taxi, 40 som/US$4.20 each

Ayni to landslide, shared taxi, 25 som/US$2.60 each

Landslide to Veshab, shared taxi, 15 som/US$1.50 each

Ayni to Sarvoda, shared taxi, 20 mins, 10 som/US$1 each

Veshab beauty

Boy and his donkey outside some old village houses, Veshab

......onto some dramas in Dushanbe.......