Afghanistan is all the rage these days and Kabul is frequently in the news. But I'm thinking back to 1978 when I went there.

​

For some time there had been regular rumours of British truckers moonlighting with their juggernauts to take unscheduled loads between middle eastern destinations. This was possible because the Shah of Persia had been spending huge sums on engineering and other imports to develop the country. There was significant congestion in ports and it was much quicker to drive a lorry load to the middle east, unload and come home and reload than to send a ship. But that in turn gummed up the Customs Depots where every lorry typically waited a week to off-load. You will read elsewhere that my Teheran journey cleared customs in a day at the cost of a couple of bottles of Scotch for the Agent. So if I had kept quiet about this I could have won a free week to drive elsewhere.

 

Diesel in Saudi at that time was tuppence a gallon, so drivers could easily fudge their expenses to cover a few hundred extra miles. Apparently there was a market to be exploited. In the autumn of 1978 a Cardiff client invited me to go to Afghanistan to negotiate setting up overland haulage from Kabul to Kuwait for his company. I was happy to take an all-expenses-paid flight to a foreign land and look into the opportunities. I was less happy when I found the agreed date for the meetings was mid-December. I explained that my duties to the church as an Organist and Choirmaster were paramount and I'd only go if I could definitely be home in time to play for the Christmas services which run through for a week or so. Advent carols, Midnight Mass, Christmas carols were the focus of a multitude of practices, rehearsals and performances.

 

“Yes, that will be alright” I was assured, so I set out to buy a return flight. In those days there was no internet booking systems but our travel agent found Ariana Airlines were the people to trust. I needed to allow 4 days for the negotiations plus 2 days travel, so somewhat reluctantly booked for the week before Christmas. When the multipage airline ticket arrived it had an open return which seemed sensible enough. I rang Ariana Airlines and tried to pin down a return flight and they suggested I booked that at Heathrow after checking in for the outbound flight. The desk there was cooperative and said: “Simply ask our colleagues at the arrival desk when you get to Kabul and they will book a seat for your return journey”.

 

When I found their sales-window at Kabul Airport no one that morning spoke much English and it was obvious they were not clear what I was fussing about. 'I want to get back to the UK by the Tuesday before Christmas.' 'When is Christmas?' asked the Muslim in dark glasses? 'I want to be in London by next Tuesday'. 'Can't do that. We only fly to England on Mondays'. 'Why?' quoth I.

 

'We only have the one jet aircraft and that goes to London on Mondays, Karachi on Tuesday, Baghdad on Wednesdays, Istanbul on Thursdays and Tajikistan on Fridays. On Saturdays we sometimes fly to Ankara if we have any aviation fuel left over'.

 

I was stoic about this because my meeting in Kabul was to be with KLM so I thought I'd ask them to find a flight home for me. I asked at the Ariana desk for the address of KLM and they said, 'You can't miss it. There is a huge high blue neon sign KLM on the highest building in the city'.

 

I went out to the taxi rank and entered an aged Toyota sedan of American proportions. I recited the magic mantra KLM and the driver glided off with a nod. The city was really a town. No skyscrapers, nothing modern, but when we turned a corner I did espy the KLM sign emblazoned in blue on the skyline four floors up. It was a modest building, but nevertheless the tallest building in Kabul in 1978. I paid off the driver and carried my case inside.

 

My first question at the desk was, 'How can I get a seat on flight to London'. He must have spotted my non-Afghan countenance or picked up on the Welsh accent for he asked: 'Ah! You must be our foreign visitor to see the CEO?' 'Yes. I am he.' 'His secretary speaks perfect English, ask her when you get out of the lift. He closed the concertina gate and I began juddering upwards.

 

When I met Anna just outside the inner sanctum, I asked if we she could fix me a flight to London 3 days hence. She explained they only fly cargo freight and have no passenger planes - but she'd see what she could do. The MD acquiesced and we began our discussion. There were a few worthies in the room with him and he was amenable to the proposal that we'd set up a service to Kuwait and all towns en route. He said he wanted a reliable European style operation, which the Afghans with their ancient and well-welded Tonka Trucks were unable to provide.

 

By day two I said we'd drive out half a dozen Volvo artics, but not all at once. Each would arrive after unloading in other middle eastern countries and we'd have to fly any married drivers home (and buy a new fleet which suited us nicely), as long as KLM and locals funded the venture. The Heads of Agreement were typed up in quadruplicate and I was ready to leave to find a telex. But before telling the UK that all was well, two things happened.

 

The first was that a flight home was not to be had. No one had a passenger plane going to London that side of Christmas. I became very anxious and took the matter into my own hands by picking up my suitcase and a taxi, and returning to the airport.

 

I sat in the primitive airport and scrutinised the flight departures for the next couple of days. Eventually I found a Turkish jet was going to Ankara next day, so I paid handsomely for a seat as close to the pilot as I could manage. I am happy to say I arrived in Ankara where a Lufthansa flight was off to Frankfurt later that day, so I journeyed on to Frankfurt where I tried to adjust to the changing clocks, which had moved back another 2 hours. Happily BA had a seat on a flight from Frankfurt to Heathrow next morning, so I was back in the UK 'just in time' as logistics managers say.

 

I arrived home in time for a rest before playing for Midnight Mass on the Sunday, Christmas morn 11 a.m. service on the Monday and a carol service the following Sunday in church. Happy bunny.

 

Oh! ....... I forgot to tell the second thing that went wrong. Russia invaded Afghanistan on 24th December 1978 and stayed for seventeen years. I was glad to be home.