Have you ever wondered what it’s like to stand in a place that, for decades, was considered the most dangerous in the world? Recently, I landed in Kandahar, Afghanistan. Not just a city, but the spiritual and political epicenter of the Taliban (or “TB,” as locals and travelers often call them to avoid trouble).
Traveling through Afghanistan in 2026 is like walking through a living history book, where the scars of the Soviet occupation, the American invasion, and the civil war are still fresh on every corner. In this guide, I share my experience exploring Kandahar without a guide, navigating checkpoints, and trying to understand the complex geopolitics behind the Afghan mountains.
Or watch our full video about Kandahar:
Arriving in Kandahar: Rules, Permits, and the Afghan “Saturday”
We arrived in Kandahar late at night and immediately learned the first lesson: time works differently here. It was Friday, the equivalent of our Sunday. In Afghanistan, this means government offices, such as the Ministry of Information and Culture, are closed.
Even with a national travel permit obtained in Kabul, each province requires you to report in and validate your entry. Without that local validation due to the holiday, our journey began with uncertainty: Would the TB be friendly? Would we be allowed into historical sites?
The Most Conservative City in the World
Kandahar is, without exaggeration, the most conservative city I have ever visited. While in Kabul my partner Nick could move around with her face more exposed, here the rule is rigid: the full abaya is indispensable for women.
The atmosphere is heavy. The city is teeming with military checkpoints. Every time our tuk-tuk stopped before a guard, the camera went down immediately. It is a constant dance between the curiosity to document and absolute respect for local security rules.
Climbing the 40 Steps (Chihil Zina)
Our first destination was Chihil Zina, or “The 40 Steps.” This is a chamber carved into the rock by order of Emperor Babur, a descendant of Genghis Khan, to celebrate his territorial conquests.
The climb is grueling; the stone steps are disproportionately high and irregular. However, the reward is the best panoramic view of Kandahar. From the top, you see a city surrounded by arid mountains—a raw beauty that contrasts sharply with the region’s violent history.
From up there, I reflected on recent geopolitics. Many critics say the trillions of dollars invested by the international coalition over 20 years were a total waste. But as I walk the roads and see the solar panels that now sustain energy for much of the country, I realize that the physical infrastructure remained. The regression is social and political, but the country I saw is physically more developed than the apocalyptic scenario of the post-Soviet civil war in the 2000s.
Between Blast Walls and the Ghost of War
Walking the streets of Kandahar is to observe what I call the “architecture of fear.” Giant concrete blast walls, designed to contain the impact of car bombs, still surround buildings that once belonged to the police or the former national army (ANA).
Today, those same buildings fly the white flag of the Taliban. We saw several green Ranger pickups—vehicles that once belonged to the Americans and now serve as war trophies and official transport for the new government. It is a strange feeling to see a superpower’s equipment being operated by those who ousted them.
The Red Mosque and the Bin Laden Connection
One of the most fascinating and tense moments was the visit to the Red Mosque. This was the favorite place of prayer for Mullah Omar, the movement’s founder. Local history says he even invited Osama bin Laden to pray inside.
The mosque is architecturally simple, lacking the luxury or detailed mosaics I saw in Herat. We were received with silent curiosity. At the end of the visit, the guard discreetly asked if we were Muslims. When we explained we were Christians from Brazil, we were treated with genuine hospitality. In Afghanistan, saying you are Brazilian often de-escalates tension and opens doors that international politics keeps shut.
The Human Side: Cricket and Female Invisibility
Despite the theocratic rigidity, life insists on happening in the remaining spaces. I saw groups of children playing Cricket with the same passion we play street football in Brazil. The sport seems to be one of the few escape valves allowed for the male youth.
On the other hand, the city’s amusement park is a melancholy portrait of the current reality. The rides are rusted or operated in a makeshift way by young people who refuse to stop playing. The deepest impact, however, is the absence: there are no women. Not in any public leisure area or square. It is a society visually composed only of men, where half the population has been silenced and confined to the domestic environment.
The Importance of Education in Combating Extremism
During our walk, we passed projects funded by UNICEF and USAID. It is painful to realize how the cutting of international funds for education facilitates recruitment by extremist groups. Without access to formal schools, children in poor areas become vulnerable to fundamentalist schools that teach only radicalism. Education is not just a human right; in places like Kandahar, it is the only real tool to ensure long-term peace.
Tips for Those Wishing to Visit Afghanistan
If you are an experienced traveler and intend to explore the country on your own:
- Respect the Dress Code: Wear the Perahan Tunban (traditional male clothing). This isn’t cultural appropriation; it’s a security tactic to blend into the crowd and avoid unnecessary attention.
- Documents in Order: Always carry physical copies of your permits. Bureaucracy is slow, and checkpoints are frequent.
- Financial Management: AIB bank is still the best option for withdrawals with international cards, but never depend on it. Bring US dollars in cash to exchange at the local market.
- Photography Safety: Never point your camera at military personnel, government buildings, or women. Common sense is your best guide.
Conclusion
Kandahar is not a conventional holiday destination; it is a reality check. I left with a heavy heart for the restrictions imposed on women, but with deep admiration for the resilience of the Afghan people. They are much more than the war headlines suggest: they are extremely hospitable human beings trying to find normalcy amidst historical chaos.
