Postcards From The Edge

Despite the warnings about anti-personnel landmines, I simply couldn’t resist. I just had to make this short, clandestine river crossing into Afghanistan. For two days, I’d been watching—from my side of the valley—a pilgrimage that hadn’t changed for millennia: A camel caravan following an ancient Silk Road trading route with its crumbling caravanserais where merchants still sought shelter from sandstorms. I could feel the arid soil, smell the dry air, and hear the long moans of the camels resonating up the timeless 7,700-meter-high Hindu Kush looming above… There is reading about history, and then there is reliving history.