There's a lot of hype out there about the flight between Dushanbe and Khorog, with breathless claims about how dangerous and terrifying it is, and how the plane routinely comes dangerously close to the sides of mountains as it flies between them and not above them. You'll even read about how, despite there not being any crashes involving this flight, there have been instances where the wingtips have actually brushed up against the mountains, dusting the snow off them. That the flight only runs on days when they can confirm at both ends that the weather is clear, and the mountains they fly between clearly visible, only serves to confirm the notoriety of this segment.
But first things first: I had to actually get to the airport in the morning and hope for good weather so the flight could be confirmed. The time printed on the ticket was 6:30, and I figured that it would be a good idea to show up early. You know, like people do in most airports. I thought this would be an especially good idea since I had heard that despite tickets not being sold until the evening before a flight, there were sometimes more tickets sold than seats available if earlier flights had been cancelled due to bad weather.
I took one of the first-running trolley buses from the Farhang to the airport, and made my way to the domestic terminal, which is actually just a large room off to the left of the main terminal, with a separate entrance and a few counters. The terminal was open when I arrived around 5:15, but people were just milling around and they were not waiting for the flight to Khorog. I was pretty sure of this as I didn't see my friend from the day before.
At around 5:45, once the flight those people were assembled for had left, they closed the terminal and kicked me out, making me wait outside. This wasn't that bad, as I fired up my netbook and discovered that the flagship Megafon telecom store, located in the international terminal, had an open wi-fi connection that was extremely fast (a rarity in Central Asia outside of Kazakhstan). I took the opportunity to download a bunch of movies as I waited for things to get cooking.
It wasn't until the actual indicated departure time that people began showing up, and even as they began to gather in the square outside, the terminal still didn't open up. When it did open up the entire check-in process was remarkably relaxed and surprisingly informal. They have a 10 kg weight limit on luggage, and I ended up paying an extra 10 somoni for being a kilogram over. What was more surprising was how many people who showed up who weren't taking the flight, and were also not related to any of the passengers—they were there to ask them to take things to their friends or relatives in Khorog. Obviously this would be a big no-no from a security perspective in the West, and those who buy into the idea that Badakshan is a restive area filled with potential terrorists might also balk at the idea, but my Pamiri friend said that pretty much everyone would agree to do this as it serves an important function in facilitating the transfer of important items. He himself accepted a car part that someone would be waiting for in Khorog. Given the standards of hospitality in the area, none of this should be particularly surprising.
After getting everyone checked in an passing through the rudimentary security, we went out on the tarmac to the plane. You enter at the rear through bomb-bay doors and a little ladder, and inside there are five rows of seats, with single seats on the left of the aisle and benches that seat two (or three) on the right. The seats are little fold-down benches of the sort that might have appeared in cheap post-war cars, but which are more akin to lawn furniture than modern seats. I first picked the first seat on the left, but later asked my Pamiri friend if I could switch with him when I noticed that my window was cracked and scratched and practically impossible to see out of. Since he had taken this flight a number of times, I thought he wouldn't mind, and I was able to get his window seat on the right side.
The seats don't have seat belts—not that it would matter that much—and parents kept their kids in their laps or let them sprawl over the backs of the benches. Again, similar to post-war driving culture, before we cared about things like padded dashes, seat-belts, and car seats for kids, let alone air bags and the like.
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| We ended up taking off at about 9:15. This flat agricultural land was just outside Dushanbe. |
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| The views on the right on the Dushanbe-Khorog leg are meant to be the best, but at this time of year you get a face full of glare from the sun, and hazy views from the smog, making views from the left side much clearer, if less spectacular. In the summer the sun would be much higher and less problematic, and in the later Khorog-Dushanbe flight it would also be less objectionable. |
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| Nurek Reservoir, formed by a 300 meter high dam—the second-highest in the world. |
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| Low mountains are already covered with snow. I know they're low because the plane apparently doesn't go above 4,200 meters. |
