What a packed weekend. It's going to take a couple of posts to get through it, because I'm sitting the lobby of the hotel waiting for the PE driver now to take me to the office and he'll be here in a few minutes.
The flight over from DXB was pleasant. Only 70 passengers on the whole 737 so I had an exit row to myself. Read about Bilbo et al., bought an expensive but not terrible chicken wrap and a beer, put my blindfold on, and conked out. The Dushanbe airport -- from the outside at night, anyway -- bears a strong resemblance to KBL. Same bright blue illuminated block letters announcing the name of the place. The consulate was a hoot: the Res Rep's office (HH's ambassador) had sent along an official letter of invitation so I was all cleared and ready to go. But it turns out the visa costs $58 and I, unbelievably, had talked myself out of needing to withdraw cash in DXB. Anyway, I was sitting there pondering my options when who should appear through the window (and I do mean right through the window, as if we were sitting inside a drive through bank teller's office and she popped up ready to deposit some checks) but OM! I guess she'd been assigned to come collect me from the airport at 3 AM. The staff at PE are nothing if not dedicated, about which more later.
Anyway, she talked briefly to the guy who seemed like he was in charge. By the way, all three consular employees were skinny guys in their early- or mid-20's dressed in jeans and polo shirts. The blank visas were in a stack in an unlocked drawer. And I was accompanied in the visa room by an Indian guy from ADB, an American tourist in his 50's, and 12 Nigerian soccer players, here to join Tajikistan's very, very low-level pro league. The head consular guy told me to just go out through immigration, go to the other terminal, where there's an ATM, get some cash, and come back and pay. So that's what I did! Just waltzed right out with my stamp and everything. OM led me over to the arrivals terminal and sure enough, there were three different ATMs all in a row. We went back, I paid and got a handwritten receipt after OM reminded me that I'd probably need one, and drove off to the Serena.
Check-in was fine, I had taken a Benadryl earlier, on the plane, so I fell asleep basically as soon as I lay down in the excellent bed. Comparing this Serena to Kabul and Islamabad is a boring but somewhat inevitable game. The bed is notably nicer here. The breakfast notably less nice. I'd better stop there for now. Part 1A: Saturday: The Day and the Night will follow.
The flight over from DXB was pleasant. Only 70 passengers on the whole 737 so I had an exit row to myself. Read about Bilbo et al., bought an expensive but not terrible chicken wrap and a beer, put my blindfold on, and conked out. The Dushanbe airport -- from the outside at night, anyway -- bears a strong resemblance to KBL. Same bright blue illuminated block letters announcing the name of the place. The consulate was a hoot: the Res Rep's office (HH's ambassador) had sent along an official letter of invitation so I was all cleared and ready to go. But it turns out the visa costs $58 and I, unbelievably, had talked myself out of needing to withdraw cash in DXB. Anyway, I was sitting there pondering my options when who should appear through the window (and I do mean right through the window, as if we were sitting inside a drive through bank teller's office and she popped up ready to deposit some checks) but OM! I guess she'd been assigned to come collect me from the airport at 3 AM. The staff at PE are nothing if not dedicated, about which more later.
Anyway, she talked briefly to the guy who seemed like he was in charge. By the way, all three consular employees were skinny guys in their early- or mid-20's dressed in jeans and polo shirts. The blank visas were in a stack in an unlocked drawer. And I was accompanied in the visa room by an Indian guy from ADB, an American tourist in his 50's, and 12 Nigerian soccer players, here to join Tajikistan's very, very low-level pro league. The head consular guy told me to just go out through immigration, go to the other terminal, where there's an ATM, get some cash, and come back and pay. So that's what I did! Just waltzed right out with my stamp and everything. OM led me over to the arrivals terminal and sure enough, there were three different ATMs all in a row. We went back, I paid and got a handwritten receipt after OM reminded me that I'd probably need one, and drove off to the Serena.
Check-in was fine, I had taken a Benadryl earlier, on the plane, so I fell asleep basically as soon as I lay down in the excellent bed. Comparing this Serena to Kabul and Islamabad is a boring but somewhat inevitable game. The bed is notably nicer here. The breakfast notably less nice. I'd better stop there for now. Part 1A: Saturday: The Day and the Night will follow.
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