India Overland with Swagman Tours, London to Kathmandu.

Bamiyan to Mazar-e-Sharif
River gorge on way to Mazar-e-Sharif	We set off in the morning, first heading back towards Kabul then taking a left turn on the back road to Mazar-e-Sharif. and in no time we were heading right into the mountains. At first there seemed no way through until we rounded a corner and got our first glimpse of the river gorge. I had expected a narrow river valley, but this was a true gorge. In many places there was only just enough room for the river and the road. The side of the gorge shot up way above us and made you feel very small, from above the bus must have looked like a child's toy winding its way along. At first the going was not too bad, we ran beside the river crossing over on occasions to run along the other bank. Then we started to climb up above the river, the road was now just a very narrow track with a very steep drop to the river below. The view was quite spectacular and although we had been going some 3 hours, we had not seen any other traffic or come to that, any sign of life.
We passed several spots on the road where landslides had recently damaged the road, but no real big ones. Just as I was getting confident we met our first problem, we were on the left hand side of the river when the road turned into a fold in the cliff face and at its tightest spot the road was very narrow and falling away at the edge. We stopped got out and had a look trying to work out if we could get through, the last thing we wanted was to drive in then have to back out. The thought of backing down that mountain road was not one I wanted to entertain. It was at this point that the "what am I doing here" feeling crept over me. We were miles from civilisation struck on a mountain pass several hundred feet above a river gorge. We measured the width of the road against the width of the bus track, but it was hard to determine because the bus was going through a 90 degree turn in this very tight corner. We had to do some repairs to try and widen the road. Passengers were sent off to collect rocks while us crew had a good look at the road edge. Our fear was that if we got too close to the edge, the road might give way plunging the bus into the river below.	Following the River
What we saw was not very reassuring. The road was actually held up by sticks. Tree branches had been wedged across the corner and the road built on top of them. It had possibly been like this for years, but it didn't make me feel any better. There were some big ruts at the edge of the road and we filled these as they would make the bus lean towards the edge and put more weight on the outside wheels. After about 1 hours work we decided to give it a go. All the passengers were off loaded along with anything they could carry. We emptied the boot and dropped the camping equipment off the roof. The cliff was on the left & so was the buses front door, we tied it open so that if it did go over I would have a chance to race out of the open door, well that was the plan. Fred and Geoff guided me in so tight to the cliff that we had to stop and knock rocks of the cliff wall to get past. At the worst part the outer of the two rear tyres was hanging in mid air but it only lasted a minute & we were round and safe. At that moment one of those shivers that shakes your whole body went through me, that was scary. Everyone got back on board and we set off again feeling like we had made it. Fred came up and said I hope we can get through, I'd hate to go back through that again, he was worried. What about Geoff, it was his turn to drive if we go back. Although there were some other sticky spots that was the worst, we met a small bus on a corner but he backed up for us. It was to be the only vehicle we saw that day and the driver said we would get through no trouble. One has to take these assurances with a pinch of salt as they tend to tell you what they think you want to hear.	Rock ever where
We were never going to get anywhere near Mazar today. The trip had been slow and as evening closed in we were still in the gorge, but it had widened out and there were places to stop for the night. The other slight worry about this route was that this is a very tribal & lawless part of the world and we could easily go missing and no one would come looking for us. It was decided that to reduce the chance of trouble we would camp out of sight of the road, keep silent & no lights. Noise in these valleys travels for miles and we didn't want curios locals coming looking for us. It was one of those starless nights and it was so black you couldn't even see your own hands. It was a strange feeling being out there surrounded by mountains, but unable to see a foot in front of you. The night was cold but we awoke to a crisp sunny morning and everyone was pleased to get a nice warm cup of tea before heading off. The road was now much better, still rough but no real problems. It went through stony plains then round rocky outcrops with the river never far away. I had noticed a few small roads leading away from the road so there must be people about somewhere. Suddenly there were children beside the road making strange hand gestures, then I realised they where pretending to strike matches. We stopped and the small group of children were soon around the front door.	The valley widens out
These people must be Hazars, they are a minority ethnic group that suffer as do most minorities, they inhabit central Afghanistan and were to be brutally persecuted by the Taliban in later years. When we asked where the children were from they pointed ahead so we offered them a lift, they reacted as though we about to whisk them off to Mars. The bravest of them came up the steps, had a good look round, went out and spoke to the others and one by one they got in. It was only about 3 miles before their village came into view, it was set up high about 1/2 a mile from the road and we turned off and drove right up into the small group of stone dwellings. The children raced away but soon returned with others, men, women and children. They could not have been more surprised if a cruise ship had appeared in the village. Our men went and shook hands with the village men and offered cigarettes which always seems to break the ice. They smiled a lot but this was too much of a shock for them to relax, western women walking around in their village. These people were dirt poor, they invited us inside several houses and made tea, there was very little in the way of possessions and in winter this must be a hard life. We found some tea and sugar plus any chocolates and sweets we could find to give them, these people couldn't afford to give tea to 30 strangers. Some children got given tee shirts or old dresses. The boys wanted matches. It was very little but they seemed pleased and presented us with a small musical instrument which we never managed to get a note out of. After an hour we bid farewell and set off towards the main Mazar Kabul road which they said was 1 1/2 hours away.	Hazarie girl
Tea house Mazar - Kabul highway	The road was improving all the time now as it obviously carried more traffic, we even passed a couple of small trucks. Suddenly there was the highway, it was a relief to be back on sealed road. There was a tea house at the junction so we pulled over for a short break. Tourist do come this way but we are still a novelty, they seem amused when we ask for toilets, they just point to the open space with arms spread as if to say "anywhere you like". This is no problem for us blokes but the girls have to go in groups with lookouts posted and even then they walk miles before they think they are out of sight. One the road "Loo Stops" are organized, girls to the right boys to the left. We pull over so the drivers side of the bus is at the edge of the road and all the girls line up along the side using the bus for cover. The boys just walk off the other side of the road and face away from the bus, it works quite well.
We do have one little secret from the girls, when we turn round to get back on board, we see under the bus a perfect frill of bare bottoms. It will remain our secret! The road to Mazar-e-Sharif is new and in excellent condition, it was built by the Russians and in the not too distant future, used by them to invade Afghanistan. We make good time and are soon on the outskirts of the city. This town has signs of Russia everywhere, all the vehicles are Russian you can use Russian Rubles in the shops and market and mean faced Russian men fill the streets. It is a fascinating town that could (but for the Russian border) be the gateway to destinations like Samarkand, Tajikistan & Turkmenistan. The city of Samarkand is part of the Silk Route from China to Central Asia and has a history all of its own. We have some trouble finding somewhere to stay and finally settle on a very poorly built sort of motel that was used by Russian engineers during the building of the Salang tunnel. No comfort here it is like a prison except you can let yourself out. We will only be here for a day so we must make the most of tomorrow, we have heard that there is to be a game of Buzkhasi about 30 miles from town, so that's high on my list.
The trip continued