Saturday, September 10, 2005
The Seven Lakes
(The photos are taking a long time to load. I will do them one at a time. Sorry for the delay)
We have been in Tajikistan for the past week. Not strictly related to the title of this blog, but it sure was lovely – we went walking in the mountains near Panjakent, up a tribute valley giving on to the Zarafshon river. The area was called Haft Kul or the ‘Seven Lakes’, because of the 7 lakes created by ancient landslides blocking the flow of the river - leading one after the other up the valley. It is an incredible place to travel, because it is so peaceful and remote. From it took us about 10 hours to get there to Rashna, the village we stayed at. Though we were told that at the time of the Soviet Union, there was a steady flow of SSSR hikers heading up the valley, we never see any foreigners on our trip. Unsurprising, as outside Dushanbe you rarely do see foreigners in Tajikistan in general. Once we were up in the valley, we did not even meet anyone who was even from another part of Tajikistan.
Before I continue with this little photo-exposition, I should add that almost all the photos are taken by my young bride – except the obvious ones in which she herself appears – much of the merit of this posting goes to her therefore, while the faults are my own alone.
On the road from Dushanbe to Panjakent. Beautiful, but due to the dodgy pepper chicken at the Chinese the night before (I just knew it was too peppery!) my serenity was troubled somewhat by an unfortunate state of stomach.
…
The facilities required a certain sense of humour, and limited sense of smell
Our hosts in Rashna, the village in the mountains: from the left Daler, Abdul-Rashid and his wife. Do not be frightened – they were very lovely people with nice smiles and full of curiosity. However, the appropriate face for having your photo taken should be characterised by this rather Edwardian severity. Abdul-Rashid told me that it was better not to smile, as that way your features came together more.
The villagers gather to have a look at us on the night of our arrival in Rashna
On the road from Dushanbe to Panjakent, I had been feeling more than usually squitty with a persistant eggy burb. While the former complaint had cleared up, after arriving at Rashna, and finding a place to sleep, during the night I suffered from the strangest and most uncomfortable exaggeration of my sulphurous burping. By the wee hours, I was tossing around, wracked with discomfort. I would lay back for a few minutes, followed by the rapid expansion of my belly, and be forced by the pain and tightness to sit up and burb out a steady series of burbs like a steam-engine giving off steam. My poor young bride had to sleep through a night of noises and smells such as you might find in Satan’s boiler room.
You can be sure it was a relief to be up and out in the clear air the next day, and though feeling weak, once we had walked a little way above Rashna, I relished the sight of the first lake…
5
How stilly lie the limpid waters of fair Sogdiana! ( ‘Ach Zerafschon, so schön und wild’ as described by one poet whose hand-typed poem was proudly exhibited in the Museum of Panjakent). When asked by my host which lake was the most beautiful, I said, ‘erm, maybe the second’ and he told me, ‘no… the first lake is the most beautiful. Its waters are the clearest’. So there you go.
We stopped by the 4th lake to rest and have lunch. My bride was keen to march quickly onwards, but I vetoed, and it was lovely to recline under the mulberry trees and nap the noontide away.
5a
After a little while, we were discovered by a group of curious boys who at first were quite shy of us, and sat a little way off, watching what we did. But we soon tempted them down to join us with chocolate wafers and tinned fish.
6
The ice was truly broken once we got our cameras out.
7
OR
7a
My young bride’s photography proved a very popular attraction in these parts, and once she had stopped to take a photo in the village of Nowfin, between the 4th and 5th lakes, it was very difficult to get away, for all the requests for photographs…
8
…some of which were relatively spontaneous…
9
… others a little more posed (note the little Churchill on the right)…
Dan, if you are reading this – doesn’t the girl on the right look a little like Alexandra?
11
The only foreigners around, we got the feeling we were the most interesting thing to be seen. We were silently watched as we went by.
12
The arrival of the foreigners with their peculiar instruments was the object of much fun at the house we stayed at in Rashna. Note the ubiquitous flower-pot hat of ladies in these parts. ‘Molto folkloristico’, as my young bride dryly put it.
Bride over troubled waters.
15
On the road
16
On the way home, the first evening, we stopped to share our provisions with a lonely wayfarer
The next day with a new strength and sense of purpose borne of not having a sulphur-goblin in my belly, we progressed rather higher, reaching the 6th lake…
17
A foolhardy plunge in the icy waters of the 6th lake. Brr!
18
A shady glade, a lad and his lady
We met a man who had walked from Panjakent – some 3-4 hours away by car, and he was shooting along the steep road towards his village, with his shy but brightly-dressed wife accompanying him. When we stopped him to ask him the time, he showered us with questions about the geography of Europe and other topics of interest to him, and invited us to stay the night in his village, above the 7th lake. I don’t think we could have kept up with him, but we took down his address to pay a visit next time.
And indeed, I dearly hope that there will be a next time. What a lovely place. You can apparently take a donkey to carry your food and do longer 1 or 2 week treks across the pass back towards Dushanbe. Next summer maybe.
For anyone who fancies a bit of the Tajik experience, you can come to Tajikistan pretty easily through a number oftravel operators who can give you pretty much as little or as much guidance as you want, from just getting visas, to planning the whole thing.
We have been in Tajikistan for the past week. Not strictly related to the title of this blog, but it sure was lovely – we went walking in the mountains near Panjakent, up a tribute valley giving on to the Zarafshon river. The area was called Haft Kul or the ‘Seven Lakes’, because of the 7 lakes created by ancient landslides blocking the flow of the river - leading one after the other up the valley. It is an incredible place to travel, because it is so peaceful and remote. From it took us about 10 hours to get there to Rashna, the village we stayed at. Though we were told that at the time of the Soviet Union, there was a steady flow of SSSR hikers heading up the valley, we never see any foreigners on our trip. Unsurprising, as outside Dushanbe you rarely do see foreigners in Tajikistan in general. Once we were up in the valley, we did not even meet anyone who was even from another part of Tajikistan.
Before I continue with this little photo-exposition, I should add that almost all the photos are taken by my young bride – except the obvious ones in which she herself appears – much of the merit of this posting goes to her therefore, while the faults are my own alone.
On the road from Dushanbe to Panjakent. Beautiful, but due to the dodgy pepper chicken at the Chinese the night before (I just knew it was too peppery!) my serenity was troubled somewhat by an unfortunate state of stomach.
…The facilities required a certain sense of humour, and limited sense of smell
Our hosts in Rashna, the village in the mountains: from the left Daler, Abdul-Rashid and his wife. Do not be frightened – they were very lovely people with nice smiles and full of curiosity. However, the appropriate face for having your photo taken should be characterised by this rather Edwardian severity. Abdul-Rashid told me that it was better not to smile, as that way your features came together more.
The villagers gather to have a look at us on the night of our arrival in Rashna
On the road from Dushanbe to Panjakent, I had been feeling more than usually squitty with a persistant eggy burb. While the former complaint had cleared up, after arriving at Rashna, and finding a place to sleep, during the night I suffered from the strangest and most uncomfortable exaggeration of my sulphurous burping. By the wee hours, I was tossing around, wracked with discomfort. I would lay back for a few minutes, followed by the rapid expansion of my belly, and be forced by the pain and tightness to sit up and burb out a steady series of burbs like a steam-engine giving off steam. My poor young bride had to sleep through a night of noises and smells such as you might find in Satan’s boiler room.
You can be sure it was a relief to be up and out in the clear air the next day, and though feeling weak, once we had walked a little way above Rashna, I relished the sight of the first lake…
5
How stilly lie the limpid waters of fair Sogdiana! ( ‘Ach Zerafschon, so schön und wild’ as described by one poet whose hand-typed poem was proudly exhibited in the Museum of Panjakent). When asked by my host which lake was the most beautiful, I said, ‘erm, maybe the second’ and he told me, ‘no… the first lake is the most beautiful. Its waters are the clearest’. So there you go.
We stopped by the 4th lake to rest and have lunch. My bride was keen to march quickly onwards, but I vetoed, and it was lovely to recline under the mulberry trees and nap the noontide away.
5a
After a little while, we were discovered by a group of curious boys who at first were quite shy of us, and sat a little way off, watching what we did. But we soon tempted them down to join us with chocolate wafers and tinned fish.
6
The ice was truly broken once we got our cameras out.
7
OR
7a
My young bride’s photography proved a very popular attraction in these parts, and once she had stopped to take a photo in the village of Nowfin, between the 4th and 5th lakes, it was very difficult to get away, for all the requests for photographs…
8
…some of which were relatively spontaneous…
9
… others a little more posed (note the little Churchill on the right)…
Dan, if you are reading this – doesn’t the girl on the right look a little like Alexandra?
11
The only foreigners around, we got the feeling we were the most interesting thing to be seen. We were silently watched as we went by.
12
The arrival of the foreigners with their peculiar instruments was the object of much fun at the house we stayed at in Rashna. Note the ubiquitous flower-pot hat of ladies in these parts. ‘Molto folkloristico’, as my young bride dryly put it.
Bride over troubled waters.
15
On the road
16
On the way home, the first evening, we stopped to share our provisions with a lonely wayfarer
The next day with a new strength and sense of purpose borne of not having a sulphur-goblin in my belly, we progressed rather higher, reaching the 6th lake…
17
A foolhardy plunge in the icy waters of the 6th lake. Brr!
18
A shady glade, a lad and his lady
We met a man who had walked from Panjakent – some 3-4 hours away by car, and he was shooting along the steep road towards his village, with his shy but brightly-dressed wife accompanying him. When we stopped him to ask him the time, he showered us with questions about the geography of Europe and other topics of interest to him, and invited us to stay the night in his village, above the 7th lake. I don’t think we could have kept up with him, but we took down his address to pay a visit next time.
And indeed, I dearly hope that there will be a next time. What a lovely place. You can apparently take a donkey to carry your food and do longer 1 or 2 week treks across the pass back towards Dushanbe. Next summer maybe.
For anyone who fancies a bit of the Tajik experience, you can come to Tajikistan pretty easily through a number of
# posted by Ed @ 1:19 pm 
