The bulk of the photos to be presented were taken during a long driving journey, via mini bus, that started in June, 1974 from London UK, reached Varanasi in India on one leg of the trip, and restarted in New Delhi in March, 1975 and ended in Paris on the second part of the journey. Also, there was an intermediate journey taken entirely by local transport inside and around India, as well as side trips to the far east (Nepal, Thailand, Laos and China). 
As an introduction to the upcoming photographs, let’s jump ahead and view some taken in a place we hear much about these days but now can only be seen in the news, and usually not in a good light. 

Afghanistan


Early morning tea. Jalalabad. April 1975

Jalalabad is the 5th largest city in Afghanistan. 80 miles east of Kabul, it is the last large center of population before entering the uphill climb of the Khyber Pass, leading to the border with Pakistan at Torkam. Winters are cold, snow can be seen on the mountains. At 6 am one needs something warm to get the day started. His gaze and acceptance made me realize how lucky I was to be able to blend in, not looking like a foreign intruder.


Carpet sellers. Kabul. April 1975

Hard to believe, but you could get amazing prices and souvenirs, including carpets, with a smile. You could also get a piece of strawberry pie (with whipped cream) in Kabul at the Pudding Shop on Chicken Street, served by a guy who looked as if he came riding a horse with Genghis’s hordes. Usually referred to as “Chickenshit Street” by all travelers, it was a busy place where one could easily get travel and other information at the cafes and travel offices, or from fellow travelers on the road like us. No GPS, or even maps sometimes, but word of mouth got you through. 


Kabul, Auugust 1974

Burka-wearing women walking behind their male companions were not an unusual sight. At that time girls and women also wore western style clothing. We were aware of the restrictions of the society and religion. As travelers passing through, we made sure we kept our counsel, as things could escalate very quickly into problems.


Outside Herat. April 1975

A small camp of Kuchi, itinerant nomads, often seen along the roads in Afghanistan in those days, during the drive between the 3 large cities (Herat, Kandahar and Kabul) which is the connection between Iran and Pakistan. The country itself was a vast arid place, with few large gatherings of people, except for the cities. The single road, in those days, was controlled by local overlords and ‘tolls’ had to be paid. But otherwise, the road, half built by American aid and half built by Russian aid, was unobstructed, except for the occasional goat or camel herd.


 Outside Herat. April 1975

Outside Herat. April 1975

The fellow was intrigued when he saw me taking pictures of their camp. He slowly made his way until he stopped a few feet away, looked me over and, with a nod of his head, and dropping the shawl from his mouth, gave me a quick smile.... I was glad.

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A Photo Reminiscence