India Overland with Swagman Tours, London to Kathmandu.

Kabul to Bamiyan
Kabul was our first real look at the Islam faith and its outward signs. We had been in Quetta but this place was different. The first thing you notice is women in the Burka (veil), they can hardly see where they are going, it must be hard to breath in those things when its hot. I'm sure if they made men walk round in them for a month then the rules would change over night. The streets in Kabul are not the safest place to work even when you can see well, open drains, missing manhole covers are all waiting for the careless. It was no surprise when a girl in a Burka fell into a open drain, no men went to help they are not supposed to touch a women not of their close family. Two other girls helped her, but by the time they got her out they were spattered in mud. The whole process was conducted with out a square inch of the girls being visible, you try pulling someone out of a drain with a sack over your head, its not easy. The girls were interested in our female passengers, they wanted to talk but it is difficult in public. After some giggling and muffled laughter the girls went off with these walking shrouds.	Burka's in Kabul
When Jos came back I asked how it went. They went to an ice cream stand and chose what they wanted and then sat in a corner with the Afghan girls. The girls couldn't show their faces in public so they lifted their veil so our girls could get underneath them forming a sort of tent. Talk was not easy as they spoke little English but they admired each other clothes and jewelry. The girls were young students and under that veil were dress in western clothes and were apparently very pretty. The Afghans are proud people it shows in their faces. They may not have all our western trimming but they belong in this country and are at home with themselves. Life is hard you can see the poverty but they don't act like victims, this is the life they have and they are making the most of it.	Street Stall
We spent the day wandering around town visiting the shops at the top end of Chicken street buying those must have souvenirs with a vist to Hari & Gobend Khanna's shop. We had to make a decision about tomorrow, were we going to Bamiyan as planned or was it too risky in light of the Coup. Bamiyan it was, we had come to far to miss one of the trips highlights, everyone seemed happy and looking forward to the trip. The trip itinery was to head north to Bamiyan then return the same way. Fred wanted to add a bit by going on to Bandi-Amir then returning via Mazar-e- Sharif and the Salang Tunnel. This was no small change, the road to Bander was rough and our bus might find it impassable. Going from Bamiyan to Mazar-e- Sharif was a long trip through a very steep gorge with a road not used to large vehicles. Salang, well that was built in 1964 by the Russians to link Mazar to Kabul, it was at an attitude of about 11,100 feet making it the highest road tunnel in the world and our new bus 303 was true to form and didn't like steep climbs. We arranged to leave at 7.00am and to pack the roof of the bus the night before to save time. I walked round to where the bus was parked and was about to move off when two very badly dressed Afghan soldiers arrived and started waving for me to get off the bus. We had a heated exchange with me telling them I was going to move my bus and them telling me it was going to stay where it was. I was in full flight giving it to them with both barrels when I heard the click of a gun being readied and turn to look down the barrel of a Kalashnikov. OK if its that important it can stay where it is and I tried to walk off without turning to see where that gun was pointing.
Over night there was some gunfire from the outskirts of town but the locals assured us that was normal and not to worry. We set off heading north to Charikar before taking a left turn on the road to Bamiyan. As soon as you turn of the main road the sealed road ends and from now there will be no more sealed road for a few days. The road is almost deserted and winds its way through the valley passing by little settlements trying to make a living from the passing traffic. We stop for tea which is now green, served without milk and with lots of sugar. Apricots are in season, small sweet and not expensive for us so everyone stocks up for the journey. The small boys carrying them around on woven plates are almost fighting with one another to get a sale. It is dry and dusty as we follow the road winding its way, never going far from the small river flanked by poplar trees. Ahead there are mountains, not snow covered but high enough, we have to pass over them to reach the Bamiyan Valley. Mountains mean climbing and that means the bus has to work hard so it will be slow with lots of stops to let her cool down.	Tea on the road to Bamiyan
We pass a rocky out crop with the remains of a fort on top. Gengis Khan came this way and destroyed most everything he found. We have been climbing for sometime and the air is getting very cold. The road is now narrow and bends and weaves its way up the side of the mountain, the top never seems to come, every corner just brings another. Finally we crest the top with view that would take your breath away. To our left is the Bamiyan valley all green and inviting whilst the right is the Hindu Kush with its snow covered peaks. The mountains are called the Hindu Kush, Kush meaning "Killer" because when the Indians tried to invade over the mountains they perished with the cold. They have been a natural defence for Afghanistan for centuries and even recently have helped defeat the Russians and have protected the Taliban from the US forces. The climb up was slow but now we have to descend with the regular brake cooling stops, its not as bad as usual as we have left some gear in Kabul to lighten the load. We are well into the Bamiyan valley and everyone is trying to be the first to spot the Giant Buddhas carved into the mountain side.	Ruined Fort on hill top
Hindu Kush
Bamiyan Valley	Finally they come into view, this has to be one of the most beautiful sights in the world, one can only wonder what it must have looked like a few centuries ago. There is little left of the original city a row of mud brick tea houses and small "Go Downs" (shops). The market is made up of little mud brick shops with wooden shutter doors that open onto a small platform that serves as the shop floor. As remote as all this is you can buy most things as I am soon to discover. We find the largest of the tea houses and just move in, this will be home for the next day. The tea house has no furniture just a large Samovar in the center of the room with little tea pots warming on top of it. The floor is covered with large Afghan rugs in the traditional dark red and black designs. Small boys run back and forth delivering and refilling glasses with green tea.
The trip continued