we enjoyed a couple of days of road trips, bouncing along in the four-wheel drive on variously challenging road surfaces and exciting bends above gorge rivers and glacial lakes, to two popular scenic locations; Iskanderkul Lake and the Seven lakes route that followed the River Shing We. There were plentiful options to begin one of the many options
in the Fann mountains. With a choice to walk over the Tovasang and the Sarymat valley, which is less known, compared to starting with an overnight stay guest house in Padrud (1,830m), located just above the sixth Lake Marguzor in the Shing Valley. From Khogli we went over the Tovasang pass (3,310m) to the Sarymat river, and we walked down to the confluence with the Archimedean River to reach the village of Voru. This was followed by a rest day and a hike in Khushtarita valley near the village of Ghazza (pronounced with a brilliant guttural rolling aah as Raasa). The second section of the hike took us from to Zimtud village and then over the Igrok pass down to Chukurak lake, the Artush Alpine Camp below this was a known soviet playground for rock climbers. From here we hiked beside a fantastic limestone ridge to Chukurak pass and a spectacular view over the Kuli Kalon lakes plateau below Mirali peak (5,106m.) We camped at the highest of the Kuli Kalon lakes, Dushakha (3,470m), before going over the Alauddin pass (3,700m) to reach the Caribbean blue of Alauddin Lake. For our final day we left our tents and donkeys at Allaudin and trekked up to the glacial Mutniy lake (3,501m) set in a vast alpine landscape with a backdrop of Zamok (5,020m), Energia (5,120m), and Chimtarga (5,489m) peaks. The final walk out to Sangi Safed (White Stone) was down a fertile, flower-filled high Alpine valley. All the way along our trek we enjoyed the hospitality of the Tajiks in their uvols – the summer tents in which they lived, made yoghurt, and looked after their animals. Small children dressed in a mixture of
traditional dress and tracksuits bottoms rode up to greet us on their own donkeys, a swish of the stick keeping their donkeys in check shouting ‘Yusch! / Stop!’ whilst village women murmured ‘Salaam aleikum / Hello,’ shyly holding their scarves as they watched with curiosity or perhaps bemusement at our heavily laden donkeys. Elderly gentlemen shook hands and welcomed our guides like old friends, their white hair topped with a traditional Toki (a square quilted Tajik hat), whilst the women placed a hand over the heart and nodded as a greeting. It was a bustle and a curiosity that we weren’t quite familiar with, a slower way of life in which local people often stopped to chat in the streets, watching with curiosity as we quickly went past. Looking up from one of the many floral meadows that appear
95% of its energy from hydroelectric dam sources. In the foothills, apricot trees, cherry trees, potatoes, sweetcorn, and vegetables grow in abundance thanks to extensive irrigation systems. In an era of global boiling, having access to plenty of good quality water directly from the mountains is a priority of the government and a big advantage in a landlocked cluster of countries. Temperature wise, the mountain climate of Tajikistan felt much more bearable than the shocking heats reported elsewhere in the world. In the daytime, temperatures were in the high 20s to low 30s, and evenings were cool enough to warrant a light down jacket, making sure to set up our series of insulated sleeping mats and foam matting for comfort. As a female traveller, dressing for Tajikistan meant balancing practicality with a more conservative approach to avoid drawing too much attention as the ‘foreign visitor’. We opted for long sleeve shirts and trousers over shorts and strappy tops both for protection from the sun’s strong UV rays, and out of respect for the traditional communities we regularly passed by where most local women and girls had their head covered. We chose to walk with a head scarf loosely draped over our hair when we pass through uvols, not because we felt we were being ogled – but that it felt culturally sensitive to be mindful of not trying to dress too western. As we passed these settlements,
SMALL CHILDREN DRESSED IN A MIXTURE OF TRADITIONAL DRESS AND TRACKSUITS
BOTTOMS RODE UP TO GREET US ON THEIR OWN DONKEYS.
invitations to come in and take a bowl of freshly made yoghurt and tea were offered out to us, aided in part by our friendly Tajik guide who was only too happy to have an excuse to lie down (‘Like a Tajik king!’) on the comfortable mattresses and pillows known as bullish. It’s rather hard to liken the unusualness of this hospitality – it would be a bit like walking up to a random bothy in a remote valley in Scotland and someone offered you a small feast in their home. Our hosts would quickly assemble a spread, bringing out their finest China cups and plates of bon bons and dried fruit with kettles of water boiled over an open fire using dried cow dung as a fuel source and huge loaves of bread baked in the coals. To begin with, our naivety around cultural customs put us on a bit of a backfoot. Our western protestations stemmed from a perception that we didn’t want
above 3,000m, the colours, and textures of the meadow flowers are reminiscent of the Alps, except the wildly fragrant scent of wild thyme, dogroses, lavender, and chamomile flowers perfumed the air. The swirly branches of the juniper trees provided shade and everywhere were flocks of goats and cows. In an alpine meadow, overlooking the mountain range of Tovasang pass at 3310m, the rock formations were strange, bizarre, imposing. Watchmen-like rock formations, known as hoodoos, lined the sides of limestone- based conglomerate valleys. There were some solid rock faces, but mainly the landscape seemed formed of glacial ground moraines – pebble-speckled sandwiched sediments that looked akin to layers of crushed pistachios studded in a bar of nougat. Thanks to the mountains, Tajikistan had a lot of water and continues to source
40 | CLIMB. WALK. JOIN.
to take from our hosts and that we were worried about waste. The contrast between western and eastern mentality was something we asked our guide Borbad. ‘It is the Tajik way, to welcome you into our homes and host you. It is not for you to ask, but for Tajik to offer.’ Humbly, we accepted the generosity in the food we were given, spooning delicious Kefir yoghurt, grabbing handfuls of maviz (raisins) and bodom (almonds) and savoury energy snacks like the dried nakhud (chickpeas). Having a Tajik local guide meant each of our ovuls visits revealed a new appreciation for a cultural heritage that was, for many, still a way of life where the women were often the matriarchs and head of the households. It was one of the more memorable experiences we encountered – and whilst there wasn’t a formal mountain hut service, we often shared food with our hosts, swapping fruit and gossip over a cup of tea. In some ways, we really weren’t that far away from our home culture. For most people, having a country self-sufficient on making its own products and being self-reliant on one’s own land was more important than talk about politics and war. Tajikistan is renowned for relatively large temperature fluctuations – harsh winters with landslips, heavy snow and avalanches, followed by very hot summers. We learned that there was a general emphasis on self-sufficiency – producing
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