The Fann Mountains
Our very brief interlude in Uzbekistan was most welcome but our plan was always to move on to Tajikistan pretty quickly as we were hoping to be able to arrange some time in the Fann Mountains before our trip over the Pamirs.
First Dushanbe, after a surprisingly easy border crossing where no one bothered to check our bags at all. Dushanbe is a wealthy town, unlike the rest of the country, and for once we were happy to indulge in good restaurants and easy city sightseeing, though in all honesty there’s not much to see other than the standard totally bonkers monumental architecture Central Asian cities seem to have a penchant for. Massive towers that look like ill-conceived Christmas decorations, enormous statues of mythical heroes that ‘legitimise’ the nation’s existence and ostentatious, gilded palaces that shout money but certainly not style. Still it was better than hanging around our cheap digs – the first place we’ve stayed that felt like a typical hostel with scores of the great unwashed milling around seemingly without purpose. We did get to do a video call with some of our friends though, which was great.
After some hasty emails and phone calls we caught a shared taxi to Panjakent and negotiated a ride from a mate of the taxi driver to an old Soviet alplager at the foot of the little known Fann mountain range. En route, the second taxi driver asked if we’d like tea at his house and we gratefully accepted. His wife and two daughters showed us into the family living room, produced a table and steadily filled it with as many different delectables as they had in the house. First two large trays of sweets, then plate after plate of nuts, then candied apricots, beautiful homemade cheese, bread, melon, meats, some sweet walnut paste for the cheese and lastly, some strong black tea. This being Tajikistan we needed to toast the occasion so out came the local vodka. Our hosts filled bowls with it and we downed it in one, as they were doing. Then we had another one. Then another. If the bottle hadn’t run out I think we’d have still been there. We shared photos, we wrote them a postcard from Yorkshire, we drank to their health and that of Tajikistan. Not a word of any common language was shared, but we spent a wonderful, woozy hour or so in their fabulous company. Hospitality here rivals that of anywhere else we’ve been in the world.
Our wonderful Tajik hosts
Eventually we staggered back out to the car to resume our journey to the mountain hut at the foot of the Fanns. Built in 1970 the alplager probably hasn’t changed much. A veritable symphony in pine, it felt like stepping into an escaped Swiss chalet but at least it had hot water and more importantly, gear to rent. We hired camping equipment and, as our knees are just not up to carrying weight up big hills, a donkey and a donkey handler.
Alas our donkey man was a little late on the day of departure, so we left our kit and pre-prepared food* with some guys who promised to load the beast when it arrived and send it on afterwards. *Cooked in the ropey Dushanbe hostel, dancing around a group of three Indian migrant workers boiling enough rice to feed the five thousand in a cauldron. Weirdly you can’t rent camping stoves here?!?
Slightly nervously we agreed, and started our hike wondering whether our accommodation would be following or not. An hour later, a giveaway braying behind us introduced us to Faiad and his very noisy donkey (named Dominic by us in honour of Mr Jonathan Bell who knows a song about ‘Dominic the Donkey’ that gets sung at drunken Christmas parties). Ask him to do his impression when you see him next….
We let them both go ahead and followed up some very steep slopes of partial scree and delicate little switchbacks for several hours. The path took us parallel to cascading streams and tiny hamlets where kids on donkeys rode out to say hello. It was hot, we were the only hikers around and our legs, for once, felt good as we made short order of the ascent, even with the fairly high altitude of 2900m. Our prize was a small promontory reaching out into Lake Kuli Kalon, the biggest of the lakes in this part of the Fanns. We pitched our tent and laid out for several hours in the glorious sunshine. I tried swimming as the turquoise water looked too good to miss. I lasted about a minute. Not been in water that cold since we decided to go skinny dipping in the sea off South Uist in the Hebrides….
Rest stop on the way to Lake Kuli Kalon
Lake Kuli Kalon, Fann Mountains
First campsite, Lake Kuli Kalon
We chumped for wood and made a fire in a pit left by previous campers as the sun went down behind the mountains and drank a half bottle of wine with our cold but delicious pasta. We were the only ones there. It was simply idyllic.
The Devil in donkey form
Camp fire bliss
The night, however, was less than heavenly. For some reason Dominic had decided he would loudly bray his socks off every half hour. Whilst this was amusing to start with, he didn’t stop doing it through the night. Being constantly woken up by an overly vociferous donkey stood outside your tent when it was hard enough to sleep anyway (it turned cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey) wasn’t quite the perfect evening we’d been looking for.
A bleary start to the next day then, so we decided to take it fairly easy and hike just a few kilometers. We wandered past long, elongated lakes with small, wind-bent trees looking like slightly outsize bonsai, aquamarine and turquoise colours shimmering in the wonderful sunshine. We stopped at a chaikhana for some green tree. Strange to find anything up here but we weren’t complaining. An open fire in a stone hut, an old kettle and tea as bright as flowers (we caught eleven drowned insects between us), then off to campsite number two – Lake Dushoka, another turquoise beauty, this time camping next to a small fresh stream and hoping that the gentle sounds of babbling would drown out the shrieking of our demented donkey…..
Lake Kuli Govkush, Fann Mountains
Lake Jangal, Fann Mountains
Another lazy afternoon after exertions in the morning. We read, we wrote, we wondered whether the mountain looming above us would treat us to an avalanche as its heights seemed pregnant with bulging shelves of snow. We generally did not much at all – a very rare event indeed, but it was fabulous in the clean mountain air.
Lazing the afternoon away at Lake Dushoka
Sunset at Lake Dushoka
Whether Faiad took pity on us or whether he’d had a better offer we don’t know, but he rode Dominic back to the chaikhana to sleep, so we contemplated a night free of donkey din. Another roaring fire for the evening’s entertainment and the last of the red wine. A restful sleep too? The cold and anorexic carry-mats put paid to that (trying to sleep with all your clothes on whilst in pain from hip / shoulder / back aches wasn’t so great). I awoke in the cold and left the tent about 5:30am. As I clambered out the b*st*rd donkey was stood next to the tent and hee-hawed at a thousand decibels when he saw me. I thought I was going to have a heart attack. Faiad appeared and stuck his thumb in the air. “Good?” he asked, his only word of English. “Fabulous”, I replied, surprised at managing to keep my bladder contents in situ despite the shock.
Looks like butter wouldn’t melt, doesn’t it….
We made the long descent in good spirits though. Despite the aches and lack of sleep, the lake was one of the best places you could ever wish to camp and the weather was utterly glorious again. Another stop for hot green tea before negotiating the long and perilously slippery downhill. Faiad and Dominc went ahead, but we could still hear the latter making a distant racket every time he saw another donkey, person or cow. We thought about offering to pay for counselling…
Lake Dushoka, Fann Mountains
The steep descent
Faiad and Dominic go down
The Fann Mountains are a truly wonderful place. If they were in Europe they’d be overrun. As it was, we were the only people at our wild camps, and we saw very few other tourists. We really needed this. Our days here were a much welcome respite from the demands of travel and a marvellous antidote to a tricky few previous weeks.
Simon (6th June 2025)
Looks beautiful, so funny about the donkey 😂😂
At 3am in the morning I could have strangled it…!
Oh my word, I have got you a donkey ready for when you get home.as I’m sure you will appreciate it. These photos are fabulous what a beautiful place. Keep going through your pain. X
Yes, it was fabulous. Can’t wait to get my own donkey….
Wow, that feast looks amazing. Love Dominic the donkey and that is certainly a stunning view from your tent!!
Glad it was such a beautiful place and perfect for reminding you why you’re doing this ❤️
Well said – definitely a much needed refresher. We could have stayed for days, but our hips on flimsy carry-mats would not let us!!
Amazing… Still can not believe how calm and relaxed you are about just venturing off to some strangers house! But so lovely of people to welcome you in and feed you and try get you drunk.
Yeah, the inviting you in and getting you drunk thing seems to be a thing, but a good thing I think