Kabul Interlude

A week in Kabul, sleep-walking through work while counting down the days till I go on holiday. It’s good to come back here for a short time every now and then but I’m not a great fan of Kabul and am usually glad to leave, even to go to Ghor.

In winter at least the few tress that are here are supposed to be bare; in summer they just look like the dead sticks covered in dust that they are.

It’s been a week of goodbyes: over half of the handful of international workers in Ghor are leaving so I’ve been unusually active on the Kabul social scene for farewell drinks: to L’atmosphere, the French bar for Kabul’s beautiful people; to Gandamacks, the British pub for less beautiful, hardier types; to La Cantina, the Mexican place usually full of foreign mercenaries with guns poking out the backs of their trousers. 

Each of these deserves an essay of its own, for Kabul’s expat scene is a thing of disturbing wonder. But they will have to wait. Tomorrow I’m flying out – least I bloody better be – and don’t plan on posting anything here for several weeks to come. 
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