The Pamir Highway is something straight out of myths and legends. With a nickname like “The Roof of the World”, it’s hard to have anything but high expectations for this epic journey that takes you between Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan. Not to mention the notable side characters of Afghanistan, Pakistan, and China, whose snow-capped summits loom in the distance.

The Pamir Highway is one of the highest roads on Earth. It stretches over a thousand kilometers through the Pamir Mountains, with the paved road reaching altitudes as high as 4,655 meters. The building of the highway dates back to the 1930s, and in a landscape as inhospitable as the Pamir Mountains, its age shows. The original asphalt road has seen far better days, and is so riddled with potholes that most drivers opt to drive alongside the highway rather than on it.

But honestly, that’s beside the point. The Pamir Highway is much more than just a long drive between Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan. If you want to get between the two countries, hop on a flight. If you want to experience something truly unique, set off on the Pamir Highway. What can you expect? Well, everything.

I rode a yak. I slept in Soviet guesthouses that haven’t been renovated since the ’80s. Afghanistan. I spent nearly five days gazing at Afghanistan from across the river, and I honestly am still struggling to put to words how it impacted me. The scenes were familiar. The reality was not. I watched the sun set over Karakul lake with the skull of a Marco Polo sheep to my left, and a mummified dog to my right. It was an August evening, yet I was bundled up in more layers than on a 5,000 meter summit in Nepal in December. Inhospitable doesn’t even begin to cover it. We went hours without seeing a thing. And we went hours where we experienced months. I retraced the steps of Alexander the Great. I hid behind a truck as a Taliban patrol across the river drove past. A landslide kept us stranded on a stretch of road where Chinese workers had been shot by the Taliban just months prior. I saw my first ever Bactrian camels. I hiked to the base camp of a 7,000 meter peak.

I lived what felt like a dozen lifetimes worth of travel experiences in those ten days. And that was just the introduction. The trip report that follows is everything you need to know before attempting the greatest overland journey left on Earth.

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Table of Contents

• Preparing for the Pamir Highway
• Logistics: Booking the Pamir Highway Tour
  • Visas, Permits, and Paperwork
  • Best Time Of Year For Pamir Highway
  • Cost of the Pamir Highway
  • Food and Accommodation Along the Way
  • Internet and Cell Service
  • Travel Insurance
• Pamir Highway Daily Itinerary: Day-by-Day Breakdown
  • Day One: Hitting the Road
  • Day Two: Bartang Valley and Jizeu Village
  • Day Three: Khorog
  • Day Four: Ishkoshim
  • Day Five: Fortresses and Hot Springs
  • Day Six: The Roof of the World
  • Day Seven: Mahan Peak and Soviet Towns
  • Day Eight: Karakul Lake
  • Day Nine: Hello, Kyrgyzstan!
  • Day Ten: End of the Road
• Final Reflections on the Pamir Highway
• Buy Me A Beer!
• More on Central Asia

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Preparing for the Pamir Highway

I waited until the last minute to try and sort out how I would do the Pamir Highway. Booking online and ahead of time is often more expensive than in-person and on the ground, so despite not knowing how easy it would be to find a group, I stuck to my guns and waltzed into Dushanbe without a plan. I’d be staying in a bustling backpacker hostel, so surely it wouldn’t be too hard to meet folks looking to take on the journey together, right?

Well, it’s a gamble no matter how you put it. Other travelers left notes on the bulletin board or in the common areas seeking out groups. It could have been quick and easy, but we were hoping to stretch out our time on the Pamir Highway to squeeze in some hiking here and there. The typical Pamir Highway adventure is seven days, but a week straight of long driving days seemed like a doozy, no matter how beautiful the drive may be.

Eventually, we got in contact with two other travelers with the same idea. Ten days, starting in Dushanbe and ending in Osh. It was a slower pace of exploration and offered plenty of hiking in between. However, it would be a week until they could leave. Our 30-day allowance in Tajikistan would be up before we could cross over into Kyrgyzstan. Thankfully, they compromised to leave a day early, and we took the risk, knowing very well that not uncommon roadblocks, landslides, or security issues along the route would jeopardize our timely exit out of Tajikistan. Overstaying our visa would require us to go all the way back to Dushanbe and go to court. No convincing apology to the immigration police, no small fine upon exiting, just hightailing it back to Dushanbe and paying a hefty fine of up to $400.

The itinerary was ideal, the price was incredible, and the two women that we’d be sharing the car with were about our age. We decided to risk it and book it anyway.

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Logistics of the Pamir Highway

Before you set off for the Pamir Highway, let’s cover a few essentials.

Visas, Permits, and Other Paperwork

Traveling along the Pamir Highway requires a GBAO permit as the brunt of the trip will be spent in Tajikistan’s Gorna Badakhshon Autonomous Region. Apparently, one can apply for this at the same time along with the online visa application. However, I didn’t need a visa to enter Tajikistan, so I applied for it in-person at the immigration office in Panjakent. This can also be done in Dushanbe and Khujand.

If you are traveling visa-free and plan on spending longer than 10 days in Tajikistan, you will also need to register with the OVIR office. Do not ignore these steps. Checkpoints along the Pamir Highway actively check for the permit and you will be turned away without one. Print out multiple physical copies of the permit and your passport as the numerous checkpoints will all snag a copy.

Best Time Of Year To Do the Pamir Highway

The Pamir Highway is not a year-round destination. With altitudes soaring to as high as 4,655 meters above sea level, the road is susceptible to whatever mishap you can imagine. The window to do the Pamir Highway is typically from the summer months of June to September. I did the trip in late August, from the dates of August 17th to August 26th. Aside from one landslide, we didn’t encounter any weather or nature-related issues. There were more tourists than I expected, but still a fraction of what I encountered in Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, and Kazakhstan during the peak of summer. For the most part, Tajikistan remains under the radar, but I fully expect that to change in the coming years.

Cost of the Pamir Highway Trip

Between the 4 of us, we paid $1,500 USD for the 10-day trip. Along with the car and driver, this included gas, and the driver’s food and accommodation. It would work out to $375 each, an unbelievable deal compared to what most agencies charge. Online, even the most budget-friendly tours were about $500-550 per person, and that was if you filled up the jeep. In person, the cheapest options we saw were around $450 and those were usually for the 7-day itinerary. I don’t know how we struck gold, but we did. We paid the driver in cash on the first day of the tour. He took a mix of USD and Tajik somoni with no issues.

Food and Accommodation Along the Pamir Highway

The vast majority of Pamir Highway trips do not include food and accommodation. Plan to spend about $30 USD per day. Most accommodation includes breakfast and dinner. Lunch is had along the way when possible. There were days where we skipped lunch entirely due to long stretches of nothingness. Pack an emergency food supply for that possibility (or inevitability, rather).

Internet and Cell Service Along the Pamir Highway

To be honest, I expected to be mostly off the grid for the duration of the Pamir Highway. To my surprise, I had signal or internet access almost every day. There will be long stretches without it while driving along the highway, but nearly everywhere we stayed offered wi-fi, even remote yurt camps. The only places we stayed with neither wi-fi or cell signal were the village of Jizeu and the yurt camp in Tulpar Lake.

Regardless, I’d say it’s best to go into the Pamir Highway with the mindset of a digital detox. Don’t expect to be updating Instagram every day. Make sure to let family and friends know that you’ll be on a big trip with unreliable internet. It’s better to set your expectations low and be surprised. Lean into the ruggedness of the journey.

Travel Insurance for the Pamir Highway

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Pamir Highway Daily Itinerary: Day-by-Day Breakdown

Now, time to get into the journey itself. I’ll recap it as thoroughly as I can, but truly, no two trips are the same. With your own car or private driver, this is a good starting point to build a more personalized itinerary off of. For the most part, we hit everything that we wanted to see, and skipped over a few stops that didn’t interest us as much. I have very little that I would change about the way we did our trip.

Let’s dive into it.

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Day One: Time to Hit the Road

• Start: Dushanbe
• End: Kalaikumb (Darvoz)
• Driving Time: 6 Hours
• Major Stops: Nurek Dam, Hulbuk Fortress, Shurobod Pass
• Accommodation: Roma Guesthouse

We lugged our backpacks from our fifth floor dorm at the Green House Hostel, checked out, then waited for our driver in the front patio. There, we met the other travelers sharing our jeep for the next ten days. Amalia hailed from Greece and Olivia from Switzerland. Our departure time from Dushanbe was set for 9 AM, and to our surprise, Central Asian time did not apply here. Our driver, Sapar, arrived promptly at 9 AM. Sapar is an ethnic Kyrgyz hailing from the town of Murghob situated along the Pamir Highway. Despite being born in Tajikistan, he is not fluent in Tajik. Wild.

The car was fairly spacious and much more equipped for the off-road overland adventure than we had envisioned. Previously in Tajikistan, our cars had not seemed qualified for the adventures they were taking us on. Two hours of our Seven Lakes excursion in Panjakent were dedicated to a tire repair shop, for example. In comparison, our Pamir Highway vehicle appeared to be a highly-capable beast. Even the usually-dreaded middle seat offered plenty of leg room, immediately dashing any power struggles for the best seats in the car.

Our first stop was a gas station where we filled up on gas and paid Sapar $1500 in cash for the journey, working out to $375 each. Our investment paid off immediately when Sapar emerged from the gas station with popsicles for the four of us. Honestly, it might have been the best breakfast of the entire trip. With ice cream dripping down our wrists, our Pamir Highway journey officially began.

Nurek Dam, Hulbuk Fortress, and the Shurobod Pass

Our first notable stop was the Nurek Dam, one of the tallest man-made dams in the world. This 300-meter tall dam creates a 70-kilometer long reservoir, which we were able to see from the viewpoint we stopped at. On top of the beautiful views, there was also a bustling bazaar selling all sorts of fruits, nuts, and other Tajik sweets and treats. A row of restaurants overlooked the lake, offering local eats. Along with the typical plovs and samsas, most places offered a thick meat stew filled with tripe, trotters and other animal parts that I would not be able to name. I decided against trying it, instead picking up some braids of dried melon for 10 somoni. Everybody hated it.

After the dam, we drove until reaching the ancient Hulbuk Fortress. This Samanid fortress dates back thousands of years, and has been controlled, destroyed, and rebuilt by countless empires, including the Mongols. We paid 30 somoni for entrance to the fort and museum, which included a short tour around the fort by a very passionate guide who had even participated in its excavation. The interior of the fortress was fairly bare, with only the outside having been renovated. The museum was fascinating, although takes no more than 20 minutes to walk through.

Entering the Gorna Badakhshon Autonomous Region

Afterwards, we had lunch at a local cafeteria, opting for a chicken stew, salad, a samsa and a plate of grains. After a final ATM run, we soon climbed the Shurobod Pass and officially entered the Gorna Badakhshon Autonomous Region. This was the first major checkpoint where they took copies of our GBAO permits. Mere moments later, we caught our first glimpses of Afghanistan, and as we were now traveling along the Afghan border, encountered a few more checkpoints here and there. Aside from the excitement and novelty of traveling alongside Afghanistan — which existed to me only as myth until now — it was fairly uneventful until we reached Kalaikumb.

Here, we had dinner, met many other travelers, most of whom were traveling in the other direction. Dinner was a soup with a stuffed pepper and a small plate of plov. The four of us shared a room, paying 250 somoni each for the dinner, breakfast, and beds.

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Day Two: Into the Mountains

• Start: Kalaikumb
• End: Jizeu Village
• Driving Time: 4 hours
• Hiking Time: 2 hours
• Accommodation: Gulsha’s Homestay

After breakfast, we left Kalaikumb and continued the stunning drive along Tajikistan and Afghanistan’s border. About an hour into the drive, we encountered our first mishap. A landslide blocked the road and only an hour into the drive, we were stuck waiting for over an hour for it to get cleared up. Apparently on this exact stretch of road, the Taliban had shot five or six Chinese workers a year prior. The Pamir Highway is not for the faint of heart. We even saw Taliban patrols along today’s drive. I could write pages upon pages simply covering how jarring it was to be driving alongside Afghanistan.

Tajikistan and Afghanistan were separated by a river that might only have been 10-meters wide at its narrowest points. The two countries seemed like mirror images of one another. The lush, golden farmlands, poplar forests, and dramatic mountain-scapes were present on both sides. However, on the Tajik side, a metal fence was in the process of being erected in the name of defending its borders. Stone piles fashioned into bunkers were built at intervals of about 30-50 meters. Tajik soldiers patrolled in groups of three. Two daughters born 50 meters away from each other would go on to live dramatically different lives.

The drive alongside the Graveyard of Empires invited a lot of quiet contemplation between the four of us.

Hiking in Bartang Valley to Jizeu Village

Lunch was more of the same, a plate of plov and a pot of tea just before the town of Rushon. From there, we veered away from the Afghan border and drove into the breathtaking Bartang Valley. We arrived at the trailhead at around 4 pm. It felt late, but we were grateful to start our hike after the sun had already started to wane a little. The start of the hike was marked by a rickety bridge across a torrential river, but the remaining 8 kilometers were fairly calm otherwise. A few kilometers in, we encountered a turquoise lake, the main highlight of the climb up the valley.

It was only about 500 meters of elevation gain and it took less than two hours to reach the village of Jizev, which can only be reached by hiking. Our homestay, Gulsha’s, welcomed us with a large plate of nuts, fruits, and sweets. I don’t think the swarms of wasps realized the sweets were meant for us. We sipped on tea and chatted away with other guests as the sun started to set. Dinner was a meat stew that only I and one other person ate, with the rest of the group heeding the warnings from a Bulgarian traveler who said his driver did not approve of the food at Gulsha’s, but hey, I enjoyed it.

Afterwards, everyone went their separate ways. Some played cards, others nestled into the tapchans to sleep outdoors, and I opted to experiment with nighttime photography before going to bed. The room had about 20 beds, with another side room hosting six extra beds. While basic, it was cozy. For 200 somoni, including breakfast and dinner, it was hard to ask for more.

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Day Three: Driving Along the Afghan Border

• Start: Jizeu Village
• End: Khorog
• Driving Time: 3 hours
• Hiking Time: 2 hours
• Accommodation: Nika’s Homestay

An oily plate of eggs and even more wasps greeted me for breakfast. I decided no thanks and opted to go on a walk deeper into the valley. I hiked for about 45 minutes along the lake just past Gulsha’s Homestay. The water was a stunning shade of blue, although milky and cloudy in most parts. Along the shore, it was crystal clear where the springs met with the lake’s waters. The Pamir Highway was off to a strong start.

At around 10 AM, we began hiking back down, reaching the trailhead at around 11:30. It was nice to see the hike in the daylight, although the heat was starting to get punishing. We met back up with Sapar and drove to the town of Khurog, having lunch at a local canteen before checking into our homestay at Nika’s. I ordered a local dish called damlama, and received a bowl of some veggies drenched in about a gallon of oil. It was the first time in a long time that I could not physically bring myself to eat something. Don’t let that sour you on Tajik food, though. There were many times where I ordered the same thing in different restaurants and received wildly different variations. Going heavy on the oil does seem to be a trend, though.

But hey, the homestay was a big win!! Especially with their gigantic german shepherd Bim, a name which means “dread” or “terror” in Tajik. Despite his name, he is a good boy. The homestay felt like a nice calm before the storm, with strong Wi-Fi, good A/C, and incredible food. The home-cooked meals were the best I had in Tajikistan thus far. Bim was excellent company, except for when he followed me to the market then made me run around the entire bazaar chasing him and trying to herd him back home. It might have been the hardest workout of the entire trip.

Great dinner, hot shower, and playing fetch with Bim. Not much else from today.

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Day Four: Entering The Wakhan Corridor

• Start: Khorog
• End: Ishkoshim
• Driving Time: 4 hours
• Accommodation: Guesthouse Romish

After breakfast, we set off for Ishkoshim, only three hours away. It was a short day, arriving before noon, eating a plate of lagman for lunch, then reaching the homestay and playing cards for most of the afternoon. The others went for a walk and I took some chill time. The highlight of Ishkoshim is the Saturday market where Afghan and Tajik vendors set up shop in a “no man’s land” of sorts. While it is typically restricted to Tajik and Afghan citizens, it’s anyone’s guess whether the border guards will allow foreigners to enter on any given day. You’ll get your passport confiscated, preventing you from crossing into the opposite country, and then you’re free to wander the market and browse through trinkets and handicrafts.

But alas, we weren’t here on a Saturday, so even if we wanted to chance going to the market, there’d be nothing going on. Regardless, the slow few hours in Ishkoshim served as a good respite. The Pamir Highway can easily lead to burn out on a faster-paced itinerary, so I was grateful for any window of downtime that I could get.

Sunset Hike to Ishkoshim Fortress

In the late afternoon, we opted for a sunset walk to the Ishkoshim fortress. We started walking before we got accosted by a group of local kids who warned us that there was an attack dog down the road our map directed us to go down. They took us on a safer detour, chatting with us the whole way. We were barraged with the usual questions. What’s your name? Where are you from? FC Barcelona or Real Madrid?

Perhaps not approving of our loyalties to Barça, they parted ways with us at the base of the hill leading to the fortress. We hiked up for about 15 minutes, stopping about halfway to the fortress as the sun was already fading behind the mountains. Without our entourage of prepubescent boys to guide us, we figured it was best to avoid stumbling around in the dark when a rabid dog could be waiting around the corner. The halfway point still offered us a stunning view of Ishkoshim, the farmlands of Afghanistan across the Panj, and the mighty Hindu Kush mountain range, including glimpses of snow-capped mountains in Pakistan two countries over.

Sapar summoned us for dinner via WhatsApp and the four of us made our way through Ishkoshim town like celebrities. Traveling with a two-meter tall Swiss girl meant being stopped for a lot of pictures, but hey, we got a free bottle of water thanks to it. Dinner was an underwhelming soup at the Bahodur Restaurant next door to our guesthouse. While I’m far from a picky eater, the resentful reviews of food along the Pamir Highway was proving to be accurate.

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Day Five: Fortresses and Hot Springs

• Start: Ishkoshim
• End: Langar
• Drive Time: 4 hours
• Major Stops: Qah Qa’ha Fort, Yamchun Fort, Bibi Fatima Hot Springs, Vrang Buddhist Stupa
• Accommodation: Mischa Guesthouse

We woke up at 7:15 and had the typical breakfast of eggs and sausage before heading out towards the village of Langar. Shortly after leaving Ishkoshim, we made a quick stop at the Qah Qaha Fort, overlooking Afghanistan and offering stunning views of the countryside and mountains. Little remains of the fort, but it served as a fun little detour regardless, showing the Panj river in all its majesty.

Our next stop was the Yamchun Fortress, potentially dating back to the 3-5th century BC, and with a history spanning countless empires and conquerors. The views stole the show, as we got glimpses of some of the tallest snow-capped summits yet. Our trip to the fort was followed by the Bibi Fatima Hot Springs, where for the price of 30 somoni, we could take advantage of some excellent hot springs. It was very therapeutic and relaxing, much more than I imagined.

We had a picnic style lunch on a tapchan, feasting on a handful of hot dogs and potato empanada things, plus some coffees and a mojito courtesy of Sapar. We were baking by this point so it was nice to hop back in the jeep and get some air along the drive. Before arriving to Langar, we did another quick hike a Buddhist stupa in Vrang. The kilometer long hike took us through farmlands before a short climb up to a stupa dating back to 1500 years ago. While the stupa itself was not too impressive, again, the views really stole the show here.

Upon reaching the guesthouse, the rest of the day was spent relaxing, playing cards, and having tea and dinner. An unexciting plate of dry chicken, but the buckwheat plov was actually quite nice.

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Day Six: The Roof of the World

• Start: Langar
• End: Bulunkul Lake
• Hiking Time: 4 hours
• Driving Time: 4 hours
• Major Stops: Langar Pass, Panorama Ridge, Chukurkul Lake, Bulunkul Lake
• Accommodation: Maljuran Yurt Camp

We departed from Langar, the standard 7:30 am breakfast, 8:30 departure. It was slow going as we climbed up the Langar Pass, and encountered the longest checkpoint yet. The views from up here were beautiful, and we made several more photo stops along the way. A traffic jam occurred as a convoy of four self-drive camper vans encountered our string of tour jeeps heading in the opposite direction. However, we were always one step ahead of every delay that could have happened. Sapar’s experience truly shone here.

We would also see our first yaks of Tajikistan, as well as the first Bactrian camels I’ve ever seen in my life. A few marmots here and there brought sprinkles of joy along the way. After about two hours, we reached Kargush, a military base and one of the last signs of civilization that we would encounter for several hours. We wave goodbye to Afghanistan, as our journey along the Afghan border had now come to a close.

Fortunately, we would see Afghanistan again before long. The hike to Hausibek’s Viewpoint, or panoramic ridge, started at a whopping 4,300 meters above sea level, and would take us all the way up to 4,750 meters. Honestly, a very sudden and intense change of pace. The trail was a bit of a slog, an easy one but fairly uninteresting. A few lakes that we left behind were the main attraction until we reached the top. This was one of those hikes that the payoff really saves itself for the end. A panoramic view it was, as we could see about 60 peaks from the top, including many snow-capped summits in Afghanistan and all the way in Pakistan.

The hike took about an hour and a half up, and less than an hour down. We continued the drive to the yurt camp where we would rest our heads for the night. The fatigue, whether from the hike, or the cumulative exhaustion from the last several days was finally starting to show itself. Although we passed many more beautiful views along the way, including Chukurkul and Bulunkul lakes, it was a quiet jeep ride and everyone had a little rest.

From the Wakhan corridor, the landscapes we crossed were very lunar, and reminiscent of the Salar de Uyuni tour I did in Bolivia a decade ago. The roads were also a lot less legitimate, and we followed the trails of prior jeeps rather than paved road itself. About an hour from leaving the trailhead, we reconvened with the asphalt highway for a grand total of 10 minutes before offroading deep into the Tajik wilderness.

Here, the landscapes resembled watercolor paintings, and the lakes we encountered were absolutely gorgeous. Bulunkul lake was vast and the soft mountains behind it served as a stunning backdrop similar to Song Kul lake in Kyrgyzstan. We drove deeper for about 30 minutes before encountering a yurt camp in the middle of nowhere. It was a welcome sight, with cows grazing, plenty of dogs, and marmots across the river. Maljuran yurt camp was cozy, had great food, good wifi, and even hot springs that one could use.

Perfect place to sleep for an increasingly exhausted group.

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Day 7: Can We Get Much Higher?

• Start: Bulunkul Lake
• End: Murghob
• Hiking Time: 3 hours
• Driving time: 4 hours
• Major Stops: Mahan Peak hike, Geyser, Alichur, Yak farm
• Accommodation: Adyl Guesthouse

Today was a fever dream. Perhaps it is the compounding fatigue from the journey? Perhaps it’s the high altitude? Who knows, but my journal entries from today are… different in tone. Rather than edit them, I’ll just leave them as is.

I woke up in the yurt and watched the lady milk a cow. Who was the first person to ever look at a cow’s udders and decide to squeeze them? Perhaps one day, I will be the first to squeeze something and have something delicious come out. I had breakfast. Today, it was a riveting change from the usual eggs and sausage. Instead of a fried egg, it was a scrambled fried egg with no sausage. Then, I stole a caramel which I later ate. It was good.

We packed all of our things, and got in the jeep and drove to the trailhead of Mahan Pick. Today I was very tired but I still hiked and thankfully everyone also didn’t care to summit the tippy top so that saved about 40 extra minutes of hiking. Then we went down and saw marmots! But also there were very beautiful lakes, Yashilkul and Bulunkul. We hiked down and Sapar was nowhere to be seen. We thought perhaps he had abandoned us on this mountain forever, but after 20 minutes, he came back. Whew.

Then he took us to a silly little geyser. It was so small especially after having seen Old Faithful. This one didn’t have a name, perhaps I shall call it New Faithful. We kept driving through lunar landscapes and I felt like I was in space which is good because I like space. We took a shortcut across a river which saved lots of driving time and then ended up in the town of Alichur, which means Ali’s curse because it is such a cursed place.

The transition from the lush green landscapes of Abundistan to the unforgiving tundras of Tragikistan were foretold in the prophecies of the writer, Jungen Bamboop. I had a terrible lunch, which was not even top three worst lunches of the trip. The manti was good actually so that was a saving grace but the soup was the worst I’ve had so far!

Alichur was exactly what one pictures when one envisions Soviet Russia and its harsh landscapes. And to think it is only August! In the winters, Alichur has been known to reach -60 celsius, -84 fahrenheit. Yeah, some parts of the Pamir Highway are rough.

We continued driving along the so-called paved road, but most of the time, we were offroading because the non-roads were better and smoother than the road. Sapar took us to see a fish, it was good.

Then he took us to ride a yak, which I paid 50 somoni for like a 3 minute experience but I got to be on top of a yak and also cuddle it for a little bit. The yurts out there were very cool, and there was also a cat and a dog eating a skin of an animal. Then we detoured to see a lot more yaks for a little bit.

We left after my glorious experience and wrapped up the journey to Murghob, driving past the snow leopard sanctuary and not getting to see a snow leopard which was sad. But we made it to Murghob and then relaxed for a little bit. I found an AK47 and a dancing cactus next to the urn filled with someone’s ashes. Then it was dinner time and I made cucumber tea and ate so many potatoes.

Now I am in bed and I will turn on the dancing cactus and shower.

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Day 8: It Just Keeps on Getting Better?

• Start: Murghob
• End: Karakul
• Driving Time: 4 hours
• Major Stops: Murghob Bazaar, 4,655 meter mountain pass Karakul Lake
• Accommodation: Erkin Guesthouse

For the first time since leaving Dushanbe, we had what could be considered a slow morning. Murghob being Sapar’s hometown, it made sense that our driver would like to eke out a little family time in the midst of a grueling season. He told us he’d pick us up at noon to have lunch at his home, leaving us some rare free time to explore on our own.

After having breakfast at the guesthouse, we wandered into Murghob’s unique bazaar. This was a perfect example of how places adapted to their environments. At nearly 4,000 meters above sea level, Murghob’s bazaar was sheltered inside shipping containers. Vendors welded windows and doors into their containers and crafted a cozy shop within its sturdy metal walls.

Considering that I was already heavily layered up in the midst of an August morning, one can only imagine how unforgiving the climate is during the winters. The shipping containers provided a little warmth and shelter for the shop-owners, at least compared to the standard open-air bazaars that one would find in more tropical countries. It was a sight to behold, and despite the bazaar’s small size, I found it easy to wander for hours snapping photos of each personalized shipping container or vintage trailer converted into a shop.

We picked up some yak ornaments made of their wool, a bag of qurut to snack on, and a melon to present to Sapar’s family at lunch. Afterwards, I continued my wander through Murghob’s dusty streets, admiring the whitewashed pastel houses with their turquoise doors and windows. The architecture was reminiscent of a seaside Mediterranean town, but the desolate landscapes and distant snow-capped peaks snapped me back to reality. I was not soaking in the sunshine of Santorini. In fact, I was bundled up in the highest town in Tajikistan and the entire former Soviet Union.

After packing our things at the guesthouse, Sapar came to pick us up and take us to his home. His house was white and blue like all the others, but situated at the very top of the hill, offering sweeping views of Murghob and the distant mountains. We cozied up in his dining room, sitting on the floor and snacking on fresh fruits, bread, and tea before the main course arrived. It was oromo, a Kyrgyz steamed pie that was filled with pumpkin, carrots, onions, and cheese. It was our first time trying it, and after a streak of awful lunches along the way, it was an absolute standout.

We wiped our plates clean and waved goodbye to Sapar’s family before hitting the road once more. Next destination: Karakul.

The road from here on out was mostly paved, but riddled with potholes and suffering mightily from years of enduring the unforgiving elements. Sapar rarely stuck to the asphalt, instead opting to drive on the dusty, desired path running parallel to the highway. A highlight of the drive was seeing Muztag Ata, a 7,500 meter peak all the way in China. It would be the tallest peak we would see on the entire journey, the 49th highest in the world.

A few hours later, the massive Karakul Lake began to appear. We stopped for photos along a flat, rocky part of the beach. Olivia took things a step further and jumped into the lake for a cold plunge. Something in those Swiss genes must have made her immune to the cold. I was more than happy to admire the lake from the dryness of shore. In the distance, we got a glimpse of Lenin Peak for the first time, as well as several other 6,000+ meter peaks along the Tajik-Kyrgyz border.

It would only be another 20 minutes from here to reach the ghost town of Karakul. Our guesthouse was right off the highway. Upon settling in, the four of us took to exploring the seemingly abandoned town. The setting had the potential for a popular summer lakeside resort town, and I would go as far as calling it the Lake Tahoe of Tajikistan. Massive turquoise lake, snowy peaks in the distance, practically the same, right?

But no, this was the Pamir Highway. We were on the Roof of the World. The skull of a Marco Polo sheep sat along the lake. The mummified corpse of a dog was not too far away. Trula found a Soviet-era army uniform button glimmering amidst the sea of rocks and broken glass. How long it’s been sitting there waiting to be picked up by an American half a century later, who can really know?

It was a hauntingly beautiful place. Flocks of seagulls only added to my confusion. I have never been to a place like this before.

The sun started to set behind the mountains and with it, the little traces of warmth and light that kept Karakul habitable. The others went home as I continued snapping photographs around the town. Rusted vehicles that had been left to rot. A basketball court that had likely not seen action in years. A military outpost guarding the settlement from whatever maniac would dare conquer this unconquerable land.

Courtesy of my lengthy evening walk, I was late to dinner. My soup had gone cold and could not warm or comfort me from the frigid cold. The altitude had left me with a pinching in my head that refused to go away. Despite a full table of travelers from all over the world, I could not put on a cheery face nor strike up conversation. I was miserable. And I loved it.

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Day Nine: Crossing into Kyrgyzstan

• Start: Karakul, Tajikistan
• End: Tulparkul, Kyrgyzstan
• Major Stops: Border Crossing, Sary-Tash, Tulpar Lake
• Accommodation: Yurt Camp in Tulpar Kul

As was to be expected, I did not get a good nights’ sleep. But we move.

Another standard plate of eggs and bread for breakfast and then we were on the way. After 30 unbelievable days in Tajikistan, it would be my final day in Tajikistan. My first day in Kyrgyzstan (round two).

Despite being on the Pamir Highway for over a week now, the views did not get any less memorable. We kicked things off with a stop in the middle of the highway to soak in more mountain and lake views, as well as take advantage of the deserted roads for some fun, frolicking photoshoots. The jeep then chugged along towards the border. Behind us, the scenery seemed like a pointing, with the multi-colored hills seemingly smudging onto one another like oils and pastels. In front of us, more snow-capped peaks as we looked onwards to Kyrgyzstan.

The border was not much further from here. I am eternally grateful to have had Sapar with us as he handled pretty much everything. He even stood over the immigration police as they were stamping us out of Tajikistan. Our Swiss friend, who had not registered with the OVIR and had stayed just over the 10 days passed through without any issues. I’m not sure if it is a gamble I would have taken, but thankfully, there were no issues. It was the final day of our thirty days in Tajikistan, so we were thankful we made it out just in time. While the roads of the Pamir Highway were challenging, it thankfully did not present us with any roadblocks that time and Sapar couldn’t handle.

The transition into Kyrgyzstan was sudden and intense. Whereas the landscapes of Tajikistan had mostly been dry and barren, Kyrygzstan welcomed us with endless green meadows dotted with yurt camps and grazing horses. On my previous trip to Kyrgyzstan, I had crossed the border via bus from Almaty to Bishkek. It was one of those run-of-the-mill border crossings where the country had technically changed, but not much else. This border crossing? Whew. This was the Kyrgyzstan that people envision when they see all those yellow-tinted highlight reels of galloping stallions and backpackers running towards a mountain.

Our first stop was at Sary-Tash, a town that served as a crossroads. We stopped for lunch at Akun Guesthouse, which had fully embraced its role as a gateway between the two countries. Need to exchange money? Pick up a SIM card? Meet other travelers? This was the spot for you. Sary-Tash itself had little else of note, but the scenery was breathtaking and uniquely Kyrgyz.

Whew, can you believe this much has happened and we’re still only in the early afternoon? After lunch, we continued towards Sary-Mogol, only passing through on our way to Tulpar Kul. The drive took about an hour on bumpy dirt roads, an hour that flew by as we gaped in awe at the imposing wall of snow-capped mountains ahead of us. The range seemed to go on forever. On a road trip jam-packed with stunning vistas, this was among the most impressive for me.

… until a few minutes later when we arrived at our yurt camp on the shores of Tulpar Kul, with the imposing Lenin Peak towering above us.

We got settled into our yurt camp before taking advantage of the remains of the day and set off on a short hike. By short, I mean we didn’t really have any intentions of making it to our destination. After about 30 minutes of walking, we ended up hanging out in a meadow watching the cows and horses graze. Lenin Peak had become obscured by the clouds, and with time for a hike tomorrow, we opted to take it slow this afternoon and be well-rested for a lengthier trek tomorrow.

The cold set in quickly, and aside from the excellent dinner at the yurt camp, not much else kept us outside of our cozy yurts until the following morning.

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Day Ten: The End of the Road

• Start: Tulparkul
• End: Osh
• Drive Time: 6 hours
• Major Stops: Lenin Peak viewpoint
• Accommodation: ABS Guest House Osh

The sun woke us up through the gap in the ceiling of the yurt, as did the group of Korean motorcyclists revving their engines on their way out of camp. They gave us the password to their Starlink the night before, so I guess I can forgive them. Anyway, now that I was awake, I might as well go out and sus the vibes, right?

Whew. What a way to wake up. Lenin Peak, completely enshrouded by clouds for the last 15 hours, was now fully visible. The rising sun blanketed its left side in a golden glow, making for a dramatic scene. I enjoyed the morning views with a few fellow travelers before being summoned to the yurt camp for breakfast. I got distracted by the donkey on the hill, as well as the two younger sons of the yurt camp owners. They were very cute, and one of them was a natural born videographer, taking control of my camera gear for a few minutes.

Breakfast was solid, and after finishing, we packed our things, loaded them up in the car, and agreed to meet Sapar in three hours or so. We set off down the same trail from the day before, hiking at close to a jog until we reached a new part of the trail.

I’m very grateful that we were patient and held off until this morning to do the hike. This would have been not nearly as magnificent had it been cloudy and rainy. On top of the stellar views, there were herds of yak grazing the same meadows that we wrapped up our hike in. Views of Lenin Peak, remnants of summer wildflowers, and countless yak alongside us, what more does one need? It was a magnificent close to one of the most incredible adventures in my life.

Closing Out the Journey: Onwards to Osh

We departed from the Tulparkul area shortly after noon, retracing our steps along the bumpy dirt roads and past Sary-Mogol and Sary-Tash. We climbed up a winding mountain pass, stopping at the top for a few photos, and then made ourselves cozy in the Kyrgyz equivalent of a truck stop. The food was cheap, the portions were huge, and we watched trucker after trucker come in and scarf down plate after plate while we struggled to make a dent in our own.

With only a few hours left to go until Osh, it felt like none of us wanted the journey to end. Even Sapar seemed to insist on making more photo stops than usual, and we were more than happy to oblige. The landscapes were stunning and ever-changing. It felt like I was speedrunning through America’s national parks, with one section resembling Zion in Utah, and another reminiscent of Colorado’s Rocky Mountains not even ten minutes later. I got a taste of Kyrgyzstan’s wildly varying beauty last year as I hitchhiked my way along Issyk Kul’s southern shores, but Southern Kyrgyzstan has taken it to a new level entirely.

Sadly, all good things must come to an end. After ten days spent in tiny villages, or in the wilderness away from any signs of civilization whatsoever, we arrived in Osh, the second-largest city in the country. Our home here was the ABS Guest House, a short walk from the bustling plazas and parks of the city. It was slightly jarring to be surrounded by so many people. Choice paralysis hit us very hard now that we actually had options for where to eat and what to do. I didn’t know what I wanted to eat first. Georgian food? Italian? A fat juicy steak? I had all three over the course of the next few days, of course. One can only eat so much bread and tomatoes before being willing to pay any amount for literally anything else.

Eating and sleeping was the name of the game once we arrived in Osh. The World Nomad Games were starting in Bishkek just a few days later. Anticipating a week straight of go-go-go, Osh would serve as a happy little in-between flanked by the Pamir Highway and the World Nomad Games, two forms of intense cultural immersion, different as they may be. A few days for relaxation and reflection were exactly what we needed.

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Reflections on the Pamir Highway

Of the six months that I’ve spent across Central Asia, the Pamir Highway is the undisputed best thing I have done. It is a whirlwind of a road trip, but one that I felt balanced cultural and natural immersion perfectly. Each day felt like a new chapter and a wildly new experience. From the culture shocks of driving along the Afghan border to the feelings of bliss while sitting atop a blustery mountain pass, the Pamir Highway was absolutely packed with adventure.

It is beyond worth it. There’s no other road trip in the world quite like it.

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