The driver knew better
We left home on 27 June at 9:00 in the morning. The next day, also at 9:00 but now local time, we were in Dushanbe.
The airport seemed very small for a country’s capital. A few taxis stood outside. There was no bus, so we got into one of them.
The older driver assured us he knew where our Ultra Hostel was. He drove completely the wrong way but kept insisting he knew the route. Eventually I opened the navigation on my own phone and guided him to the hostel.
One more piece of paper
We had planned to spend just one day in Dushanbe. Before leaving, we had checked the information on the Polish Ministry of Foreign Affairs website: stays of up to 30 days did not require a visa.
We had found nothing about any additional registration. Only at the hostel did we learn that foreigners staying in Tajikistan for more than 10 days needed a special registration card.
We had arrived on a Saturday. The office was closed on Sunday, so our departure for the mountains had to wait until Monday. We had time to look around the city and sort out a few things.
40 degrees and dust
Our room was on the 17th floor. From up there, we had a good view of the city as it continued to expand. There were plenty of high-rises in the centre, and cranes towered over the lower buildings.
Apparently the dust was particularly bad that year. It hung in the air and settled on absolutely everything. Distant buildings disappeared into a thick haze.
And then there was the heat. During the day, temperatures reached 40 degrees. Fortunately there were green spaces nearby, such as Rudaki Park, where we could catch our breath.
The many fountains helped too. Just stepping into their mist brought an immediate, pleasant chill. That was when I understood why the city had so many of them.
Dinner on a tapchan
The restaurant had been recommended by a Russian we met at the hostel, who had been living in Dushanbe for two years.
The waiter initially led us towards the tables and cutlery, but we preferred to eat the Tajik way, on a tapchan.
We sat cross-legged on a wooden platform covered with intensely red blankets. Before long, a large wooden bowl of kurutob* stood between us. With it came fruit compote to drink and, of course, lepyoshka (round bread), which came with everything.
The recommendation was spot on. We stuffed ourselves silly.
*Kurutob is a traditional Tajik dish made from pieces of bread soaked in a salty, sour sauce of dried yoghurt cheese, served in a wooden bowl with a layer of fresh vegetables (tomatoes, cucumbers, onions and hot peppers) and herbs. It comes in vegetarian and meat versions.
Paperwork
Initially we had planned to find transport to Sarvoda at the shared long-distance taxi stand on the edge of the city. But to get a ride, we would have needed to be there first thing in the morning, and we still had paperwork to sort out.
The receptionist helped us with that. As it turned out, she also worked at a ministry. We gave her our passports, and on Monday morning she took them to her other job. Around midday she returned with the documents.