This time we could actually get into the palace and even onto the roof. It is a lovely small palace inhabited by 3 wizened old looking men, who were huddling around a small stove on which they make tea and, presumably cook their meals. There is no furniture and no heat. The only thing in the large echoing hall that reminds the visitor that this was once a place of luxury is the enormous crystal chandelier that hangs lonely from the decorated ceiling.
Outside the gardens are neglected, as is the building itself, last restored in the 60s according to Nancy Dupree guided tour of Kabul number III. A large swimming pool sits in front of the palace, with a high diving board and two enormous floodlights that must once have lit the large terrace.
After our walk we visited Turquoise Mountain in its restored fort, a little ways down from the palace. A young sales associate gave us a tour of the workshops where exquisite wood carving is done in the traditional Nuristani style, the calligraphy studios, the jewelry place and the store itself with its high-end products, most of which have one more 0 on their price tags than I am used to. It’s a little incongruous to see such items here in Kabul and apparently they do their best business in Dubai, New York and other places with money; the local market couldn’t sustain a place like this.
We ended up, once again, for a late lunch at the Herat restaurant where we found our colleagues who were returning from their weekly Chicken Street outing, carting more bags of stuff to Guesthouse zero and beyond. The waiters at the Herat restaurant are starting to recognize me, as do the little petty traders at Chicken Street who call me Sofia and offer to me my bodyguard for a dollar (life’s cheap here).
We bought Axel some knitted socks to keep his feet warm now that it is getting noticeably colder. I tried on some fur hats that you can safely wear here but probably not in the US or Europe but I decided it wasn’t cold enough for that. The inventory of many shops has shifted to winter stuff but with few foreigners around, I am wondering who is buying all this stuff.
For dinner we went to Guesthouse 26 where Iain and Paul reside when they are not in Granada and France respectively. We were treated to a Stella Artois and goat cheese on naan for cocktails and a Cote du Rhone to accompany our dinner, such a treat. We resolved the problem of Afghanistan and, with a big nod to Pavlov and a little nod to Skinner, we concluded that it is all about operant conditioning. And for this we do need the extra boots on the ground, against the loud protestations of my inner anti-military voice.
Sylvia's Journal 
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