A small mountainous jewel of a country wedged between Afghanistan and China, Tajikistan has changed since I first visited it as a backpacker in 2009. Back then, landing in the diminutive capital, Dushanbe, at 3am, a permit for trekking and letter of invitation in hand, I was met by a virtually deserted airport and a city lit by few electric lights. Nowadays, you can get a visa on arrival, and everything in Dushanbe is louder, brighter and faster.
Countless construction sites disrupt the capital and there has been much misjudged demolition of old theatres, teahouses and cinemas built during the Soviet era, causing (some) outrage. But it is hard to be too down on the city’s central artery, Rudaki Avenue. Partly canopied by mature trees, and with statues, fountains and parks, it remains one of the most handsome streets in central Asia, appearing as a lovers’ lane of sorts, filled with strolling couples. The thoroughfare also hints at the country’s identity.
