Seriously. First it was with all the hype before she arrived; then the blast in Karachi that killed all those people; then over in Rawalpindi, the streets lined with an assortment of posters with pictures of her: devoutly praying with eyes closed in ecstasy and her hijab casually slipped on to her shoulders (a statement in itself); with a mount half-open in admonition and looking quite stern, usually with floating faces of two other dudes (probably supposed to appear noble and leader-like, but only managing to look well-groomed and well-fed). I think it's ridiculous that they're obviously try [View Full Entry]

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(I found myself thinking I'd be writing this email in various forms to a number of people, so it's best to just type it once and have people read it as they're bored): Hello! Did you know there's martial law in Pakistan? i'm in this town called "abbottabad" to the north of islamabad. a guy yesterday said it was a "political" emergency situation... no tanks in the streets, no soldiers performing ID checks (my passport is at the embassy in Islamabad anyhow), nothing out of the ordinary. the guy at the tourist office convinced me to stick around for a couple [View Full Entry]

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I guess the excitement began in Yazd, Iran, where all and sundry warned me about the road to Pakistan. You know about the Japanese tourist abducted while walking to the Arg from his hotel in Bam? In Bam, in Iran! Now just imagine the next 24 hours or so before you get to Quetta, through the lawless desert, the Baluchi and Afghan drug smuggling tribes and across the truly awful Taftan desert. And to reach where? Quetta, singled out on the Warning Pages as exceptionally dangerous and a "definitely don't go" zone. A little real traveling doesn't do anyone any harm, [View Full Entry]

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Hopefully these will buy me some more time to procrastinate on my Iranian blog... but seriously, how do you summarize Iran in a few hundred words or less? So.. How was Iran? Riiight. All photos are courtesy (and property) of "Big Dan X". [View Full Entry]

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Getting off a bus after sunset in the middle of Herat with absolutely *no* information, neither map nor directions nor knowledge of prices, unable to speak the language, and with my enormous backpack and /khareji/ clothes *clearly* a very stupid westerner in a country with an emerging appetite for kidnapping foreigners... no, probably not the most intelligent move I've made. It's not like I was too arrogant to be scared either. Maybe stupid is the right word. The place was like a wave descending on me, the sudden onslaught of all the stereotypes of Afghanistan come to life: the ancient "p [View Full Entry]

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On the off chance (extremely unlikely) that there are people out there calling embassies and desperate to get news from me (like I said, very unlikely), I'm alive and doing well, although I still don't know what the penalty is for being a Khareji in Herat... I've been adopted by two really cool (Hazara) guys: one with an amazing life story (and pretty good english), and the other who is just returning from work in Saudi Arabia (and so I pretended like I spoke Arabic with him). When not sharing personal histories they're telling me about how the "Talib"s are going [View Full Entry]

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Just a quick update to let my sundry following know that I'm alive and this time actually heading in the direction of China (yeay!) though I've still only made it as far as Tehran... but this is as far east as I've gotten in 3 years on the road, so it's not to be taken lightly. A major milestone. And what I really wanted to say is that travelblog.org seems to be blocked at most internet cafes I've been to here (this is the first one in 2 weeks where it worked), so I know I owe you all an Azerbaijan [View Full Entry]

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I confidently wave goodbye to my hosts and step outside, hoping to catch the 1oclock marshrutka (it's 1:15) if I'm not too late. An overcast day in Sukhum(i), a few drops of rain. I've spent the morning at the museum, then at the botanical gardens, then buying stamps and other souvenirs to bribe the Abkhazia-lovers back home. Pretty full day so far. Now I need to catch a marshrutka to Gal(i), another to the "border" at Ingur(i), deal with the Russian soldiers there, walk across the bridge and into Georgia, then take a marshrutka to Zugdidi in time for the [View Full Entry]

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EASTERN EXPRESS Train from Kars A Turkish seater (pullman) wagon, nearly full. The train is coming from Kars on the eastern border, traveling 1950km to get to Istanbul in 36 hours. Most passengers at this point have gotten on much later, after Ankara, and are dressed in "secular" "modern" dress: sports shirts and jeans on men; most women uncovered and also wearing jeans. It's early afternoon and most passengers are dozing or chatting in small groups. Somewhere towards the middle, Adam - a middle aged local-looking man - is re-reading a book he finished minutes ago. He has [View Full Entry]

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A place like Georgia makes one realize how much we take for granted. For instance, the assumption that a country has one (or maybe two) names. This is Georgia, Gurcistan, Gruzya, or Sakartvelos, depending on which language you're speaking. It's also a common assumption that progress is linear - forward. I was once talking with Janvier about how Europe could have plunged into the Dark Ages and completely forget the technological accumulation of the Greeks and Romans. I see the exact same process at work in Georgia (and Armenia, but this blog is about Georgia): enormous factories; solid public [View Full Entry]

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