Sleep well despite city noises and big trucks driving by through the night. The open window kept the temperature down. We drive back towards Dushanbe stopping at a roadside resto for breakfast. Breakfast is eggs, delicious, but more amazing is the bread with fresh cream. Really, really good. Back through the tunnel of death by 0930, we survive again. Stop at the beekeeper man. Love his colourful hives, buy M and J a jar of honey as a gift, I dont love honey as much as I love the hives and the bees.
As we arrive into the outskirts of Dushanbe I ask M if he can help me get a SIM, hes happy to help but the queues at the phone shops are massive. There are security guards everywhere keeping the crowds in order, well they are trying to -order is not a concept that has a lot of meaning here if the airport queues were anything to go by. The reason for this situation is that registration of SIMS into effect and if people arent
registered by the end of the month they have to pay $25. Abandon my plan and decide Id like to try and get a great map given that I never know exactly where I have been- there arent any of those readily available either so its back to Marians Guesthouse. Marians is a true oasis. Its nice to be back. I have a different room this time, just as lovely. The cleaning lady asks me if I have any washing and traces of the last few days are whisked away- Ill be glad to have the sarong washed! Another long, hot, blissful shower and clothes change precedes sorting photos and reestablishing communications.
Afternoon- decide to catch a cab to the Noor Art Gallery given that I couldnt find it on foot last time. It turns out to be a small shop within the Sheraton Hotel. Interesting Tajik crafts, textiles and paintings. I deliberate and buy some cushion covers and cards. One of the paintings on the wall in my room at Marians has been painted by the father of the shop owner (Farrukh Negmatzade is the artist- see link below). If only I didnt have most of the trip
ahead of me I would have liked to buy quite a few more things. I was surprised at the abundance of Ikat fabric, I had only heard of this in Indonesia but it seems that it was made in India and Central Asia independently. Leaving the shop I meet Dilya, a hotel receptionist who wants to spend some time with me when she finishes work... ok, why not? 23 year old beautiful Dilya and I wander around for a couple of hours, we get an ice cream at the tea shop next to the hotel. Dilya also likes to take a lot of selfies (she and Mohammed would get on well I think). There are masses of security staff around, the president to open a new park, many roads are blocked off. Dilya proves to be a big distraction to the security staff who all seem to be about the same age as her. I dont get to see the president. We and I decide to eat at the famous Rokhat Teahouse, its starred in the Lonely Planet Central Asia, they describe it as grand Persian style, open sided chaikana (teahouse). The architecture is pretty
interesting and I find an upstairs table overlooking Rudaki Street. It is here that i manage to order bread, goat yoghurt and salad washed down with water with gas.
Back to Marians via the park, another late night (9:20). The mountains have receded after most of a day back in the city.
