A few hours later we are on the road, excited and almost euphoric to finally be back on the road. In fact, we have become so accustomed to life on the road that longer stopovers almost become a punishment.
All we want is to be moving. Ever forward, ever toward the horizon.
Today's destination is a town called Jalalabad. Once again, no idea what is really happening there, but the bizarre name itself promises a lot.
Jalalabad is located about 160 kilometers east of Kabul near the Khyber Pass at an altitude of about 600 m. The city of Peshawar in Pakistan is only about 130 km away to the south-east.
However, what we also do not know is the dangerous nature of the road. Today, a modern, developed highway connects the two important cities, but back in the dark 70s, the route was one of the most dangerous in the world (of course, nothing compared to the Manali-Leh Highway).
Die Tangi Gharu Gorge
Beyond Kabul, the route continues along the plain for quite a while before things get serious. The terrain behind us tilts away, we plunge down into an abyss, the Tangi Gharu Gorge.
The most dangerous roads in the world, and this apparently also includes our present road, do indeed have a lot to offer: yawning chasms without securing guard rails, sandy and slippery tracks, sloping on top, suddenly swelling streams, mountain slopes threatened by avalanches and landslides, and crackling ice under the wheels.
Well, at least suddenly swelling rivers and avalanches will not be on today's program, the yawning abysses are completely sufficient.
As mentioned, decades later, in Ladakh in the Indian Himalayas, I will experience a familiar feeling. A mixture of excitement, joy, fear, and yet the insatiable pleasure of danger. Perhaps today, on this memorable day, this special affinity to danger has been created. This faint tickling, the realization that everything can be over in seconds, and yet the strong feeling of being alive that can't be replaced by anything. Does that sound strange? I certainly understand it.
However, the driver is now in high demand. All these curves, the endless turns in all directions, one might almost think you were on a fairground merry-go-round. No wonder it has become silent next to me. The view goes , magnetically attracted and against its own will, down into the abyss, where darkness threatens.
Definitely nothing for the faint of heart..
The old road from Kabul to Jalalabad is apparently not only known for its dangerous conditions but also for the attacks on travelers. Attacks on travelers? That sounds a bit weird, but just as unlikely. If at all, then rather in the flat area towards Jalalabad.
We will see. I'm already putting on my fiercest face. That has always helped so far.
There are not many cars or trucks on the road. But there seem to be days when dense outbound and inbound traffic compete with each other for space. Trucks behind trucks, passenger cars next to them, and people, it seems, discussing how to solve the problem.
Not funny.
Eventually we reach the valley floor, which is anything but level ground, but rather a ride through continued yellow-brown wasteland where nothing grows and humans are a rare phenomenon. Compared to what lies behind us, a noticeable improvement.
Sometimes, like a phantom, a village appears, a few poor huts, hidden, forgotten, and yet inhabited, the column of smoke above the roofs testifying to life.
We don't stop, we drive on, thoughts drifting for a few minutes about the strange fate of these people, then new thoughts arise, new impressions, everything fades, changes. That's just the way it is.
Jalalabad
Jalalabad (or Dschalalabad spelled with two or three l's) is the capital of Nangarhar province. Many years later it acquires strategic importance when the country is occupied by western troops.
At that time it's s not very impressive, just a transit station for us, but today it is a large, impressive city with almost 300'000 inhabitants.
We find a hotel with a garden where we can park your cars and eat at the restaurant. The landlord of the hotel, an extraordinarily friendly man in his prime, is trying to show his foreign language skills. His farewell greeting "Au reviens!" will be remembered forever.
Song from 1974: Lynyrd Skynyrd – Sweet Home Alabama
And here let's continue ... towards the border and the Khyberpass
