Afghanistan in 1970

Kabul in 1970 was still a peaceful place and an important stopover on the hippy trail to Kathmandu. The tragedy that became Afghanistan was still a number of years away. King Zahir Shah ruled the country and my first impression of the people was positive, they were friendly. Even now I find it hard to believe how the Afghanistan I first visited in 1970 could degenerate into the lawless, terror-haunted country it now is.  All thanks to foreign interventions.

The Kabul River flows through the Afghan capital of Kabul  1970

Kabul appeared relatively modern although I noted in my diary that the state of the roads left a lot to be desired, with no proper pavements and, after the heavy rain of the previous days, very muddy. Early March was the tail end of winter and it was cold, with snow sitting on the hills around the city. During an excursion down Chicken Street, a well-known shopping area, I purchased one of the Afghan wool-lined leather coats that were fashionable in the late ‘60s and ‘70s.  I commented at the time that many of the coats had a definite ‘aroma’ to them, possibly because the leather was not treated as well as it could be. My coat, lined with the local karakul wool, seemed OK, but some months later it began to go mouldy in the damp London weather and I surreptitiously left it behind in a flat … somewhere!  It was in Kabul that I first saw women in full burqa and I was fascinated by the turbaned tribesmen who wandered the streets. I noted in my diary that there were many soldiers and that Russian influence, even then, was very noticeable. Food in Kabul was good and I ate one night at the Khyber Restaurant, an institution in those days that every Western traveller visited and on another night, I had a turkey meal at the Spinazar Hotel which cost 60 afghanis (about 80cents NZ). I wrote in my diary that this was the best meal I had had since I had left home - and the cheapest!!  

Kabul appeared a relatively modern city in 1970

    After leaving Kabul we drove through a snow-covered landscape as we headed toward Ghazni. The day was clear but cold and a stop was made for the many Australians in the group who had never been in snow. Of course, there was the inevitable snow-ball fight!

Snow covered the landscape as we head down the main highway to Ghazni & Kandahar

 Ghazni was the former capital of an Empire, established in the 11^th century by the rather vicious Mahmud of Ghazni, that once encompassed Iran, Afghanistan and much of northern India.  In 1970 Ghazni was a small town with muddy streets, horse-drawn carts and disconsolate donkeys. The town was dominated by an ancient mud-brick fortress occupied by the Royal Afghan Army. We lunched at Sultan Mahmoods, a local restaurant, enjoying a local rice dish which was cheap and tasty, before heading on to Kandahar.  

The muddy streets of the town of Ghazni, Afghanistan  1970

Kandahar is the second largest city in Afghanistan and, in recent years, has been a hotbed of Taliban activity, but in 1970 it was a rather quiet little town with not a great deal of interest. We were only there overnight and spent a good part of the evening looking for somewhere suitable to eat. We entered some wild joints, thick with hashish smoke before finally settling on the balcony of the Kandahar-Heart Gate Tourist Hotel to a shish kebab meal. Our entertainment that night was watching the antics of a lone policeman on the traffic island outside the hotel. He was on points duty and every time a car came along the street – about once every five minutes – he would spring into action, enthusiastically directing the motorist in a direction the motorist had no intention of going. He would shrug then, hands behind his back, walk around his little island until the next car came along when once again he would spring into action.

Local tribesmen in the desert near Farah

From Kandahar our route to Herat took us through the desert toward the small town of Farah. One of our coaches blew a front tyre and left the road in this barren area of desert. Fortunately, the vehicle stayed upright, and no one was hurt but it did take a couple of hours to repair the wheel and get the coach back onto the road before having a late lunch at the Farahrod Hotel, a modern-looking facility built by the Russians in the late 1960s. It appeared to have all modern facilities, but no one stayed here as, despite its modern appearance, there was no electricity, hence no heating or power for the water pumps which also meant the toilets didn’t work. We were ushered through the hotel, which boasted a modern kitchen, into a grubby old shed out the back where all they could offer us were omelettes cooked on a Primus stove.

One of our coaches blew a front tyre & left the road near Farah, 1970

© Neil Rawlins  text & photography

This excerpt is from my book One Foot in Front of the Other - First Steps now available in paperback from Amazon books