‘Are you OK?’ asked Reece.
‘No.’
‘Are you outside of the tent?’
‘Yes.’
Behind me was the dark mountainside in Tajikistan, opposite the looming black wall in Afghanistan, and above me the clear starry night. In front of me, one metre in front of the tent, I heaved out the vomit, wave after wave.
My little helpers
Our camping spot this morning was a short walk from a mine field. I discovered this on my sunrise walk, and promptly backtracked the way I had come. This is a serious border – between Tajikistan and Afghanistan. Minefields, constant police checks, military patrolling up and down the roads, and sitting under trees, rifle in hand.
Mine field
An early morning rise resulted in a late start after I replaced my tyre which had worn out, and Reece readjusted his gears. By departure it was already hot, and I felt it the whole day, getting weaker and weaker as time went by. I still felt quite good in the morning, and both Reece and I repeatedly cried out for joy as each new view unfolded. This is an amazing valley!
Afghanistan
The road to Khorog
My little helpers
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