I’m thrashing this entry out very much on the back of a fag packet. I have a ten minute gap in my day and wanted to rest the old Nomadic kit bag for a moment and pause for breath. I’ll shower in a moment.
I have arrived in Kabul. The sun is shining brightly and the city actually looks as if it is sparkling, traffic is moving, bicycles, blue burkha clad women shopping with their children at stalls bursting with fresh fruit, vegetables, cooking pots, rows of car exhausts (? A bizarre impulse buy), alongside the streets we drove down. The mountains loom over the city providing a backdrop of small houses like brown cardboard boxes dotted up the slopes. Well more on that soon enough. The cynicism will kick in, in about…..oh….ten minutes, so enjoy the romantic description whilst it lasts.
My journey here was uneventful. The Kam Air flight didn’t crash into a mountain as feared (although it is odd flying through valleys with peaks either side of you). In fact the most distressing thing was not getting to watch the end of North by North West which was interrupted by the captain of the Emirates flight to Dubai saying we should prepare to land.
More later, of course, but loved ones rest assured – the Taliban may blow up mobile phone masts, but the power of the internet is a force to be reckoned with (at least in those VERY well protected parts of town, and where people can afford a connection). Nuff said. I will be in touch.
PS – Apparently there was a suicide bomber strolling around town this morning, suffice to say he didn’t detonate anywhere near Nomadic……