18 Hours

I left home more than 48 hours ago, and I am still not in Aybak. This could be considered unusual, if it wasn't for the circumstances: this is Afghanistan, and it is winter. This is an exceptional place, in the sence that there are many exceptions to the rules. In fact, most of the time there are no rules. Instead of rules, there are exceptions. Exceptions in the form of snow, floods, delays, darkness, sandstorms, parades, briefings and flat tyres. Exceptions that should, thus, in the long run, become the rule, but they don't, because they are exceptions by definition, and because this is Afghanistan.

I'm now in Camp Northern Lights in Mazar-e Sharif. From Raisio to Turku-Tampere-Pirkkala-Trabzon-Kabul-Trabzon-Mazar-e Sharif, and from here to Aybak, sometime in the future. No-one knows when, because Lion's chassis was broken and we are getting a different car, to which all the equipment has of course to be transferred and installed. But before getting stuck here, I was already stuck on three occasions on the way. First at the airport in Pirkkala, where we learned that by the time that we should have boarded our flight, it had just left Amsterdam 30 minutes ago. Then in Kabul, where we learned that the airfield in MeS is temporarily unavailable, and where the captain made the decision to fly back to Turkey after carefully considering it for 5 hours, all while a cabin full of soldiers waited. And finally in Turkey, where the seven waiting hours were spent in conditions far superior to those in Kabul: the airline company offered us a complimentary dinner, hotel accommodation and breakfast. I have never before spent 18 hours consecutively in an airplane, and i certainly hope never to have to do it again.

Nevertheless, the trip had it's moments. I enjoyed the time I spent playing with my newly acquired PSP, although I wish someone had reminded me to get a tax refund on it... Playing until the battery ran out, that is. The walk from the hotel in Trabzon down to the Black Sea beach was also something to remember. The waves made an athmospheric noise in the light of the full moon. The water was not as salty as in the Arctic Ocean. And getting a proper dinner and a shower at the hotel after 18 hours on the plane and three airplane meals - that was good. And before that, when the Danish troops disembarked and there was room to strech my legs. Such small but important things. And getting some sleep, soon.


A fine late-night dinner in Turkey.


The Black Sea really is black, at least at night.