YOU HAVE to be nuts to visit Afghanistan as a tourist right now. There’s all-out war in the south, suicide bombers are targeting Kabul, landmines and cluster bombs litter the countryside, and Westerners are hated. True?

Well, somewhat. Certainly it is not the first holiday destination that jumps to mind for most people. There are no beaches, theme parks or casinos, proper hotels are thin on the ground and, in terms of infrastructure, there isn’t a lot. Why go then? Simple. This is an endlessly fascinating country that is living and creating a history like no other place on the planet.

One of the first things to understand is that Afghanistan is a divided country. The southern provinces are definitely a no-go zone. Nato forces are neck-deep in a conflict that seems set to get worse. When this will change is anybody’s guess. However, in the north, things are a bit different. Notwithstanding two recent suicide bombings in Kabul, most of the northern provinces are experiencing relative calm. It’s into this environment that I set out. My goal: to gain an understanding of what Afghanistan is all about and to see what is drawing a small but hardcore group of tourists to this war-torn central Asian country.

First stop Kabul. The city sits in a valley amid dun- coloured hills: a disintegrating medieval perimeter wall can be seen poking between the mud-brick houses that cover them. The noon-time traffic is thick, congested almost to the point of standstill. Kabul’s architecture is a mix of slapped together one-storey buildings, 1970s low-rises and post-Taleban steel and glass structures that look as if they have been lifted from the streets of Shanghai. However, I am on my way to the Serena Hotel, Kabul’s only five-star bolt hole.

Opened in November 2005 after an extensive refurbishment programme, the hotel project is funded by the Aga Khan Development Network (AKDN) in partnership with the World Bank, Norway’s Norfund and the Netherlands Development Finance Company.

Why open a five-star hotel in one of the most unpredictable cities in the world? “Part of the reason was to help develop the local economy and change the image of Afghanistan,” says Chris Newbury, the Serena’s general manager. “We provide jobs for local people. We train them in the industry and even if they leave us to start their own hotel or guesthouse, hopefully the training they receive here will help improve the country’s overall hotel industry.”

The Serena is not the only project AKDN is involved with in Afghanistan. It is the principal backer of the telecommunications company, Roshan, which provides affordable mobile telephone and internet service to people all over the country. It also provides funding for cultural programmes that are working to restore many of Kabul’s historic buildings and sites, principally the Babur Gardens, the Old Town, and the Timur Shah Mausoleum.

Hotels aside, I want to know more about Kabul itself and the surrounding country; one of the best ways to get a finger on the pulse of any city is to visit the markets.

Kabul is full of markets, most of them unofficial. Any bare patch of ground is suitable for a vendor to sell a few melons or some dates. Walking among these busy streets is like strolling through the pages of National Geographic magazine. Every face is a portrait, every portrait tells a story, every story an epic.

The few Western tourists who make it to Kabul are often warned off from visiting the markets because they’re too unpredictable. Granted, the hustle and bustle might be a bit much for some, but I am treated with nothing more menacing than a little over- curiosity and on a number of occasions even get invited to people’s homes for tea.

Getting around outside the city can be tricky. Independent-minded travellers can do it by public transport, but this is time-consuming and erratic at best, and dangerous at worst. However there are a few private organisations that offer transport and tours around the country. One Kabul-based company is Afghan Logistics. This family-owned business, run by 27- year-old Muqim Jamshady , was more used to acting as fixers for foreign journalists until the first tourists — three people from the UK — turned up in 2003.

“We were very happy,” says Muqim. “Even the Afghan Government was happy. It’s what we want, especially people of my generation. We just want the war to stop. I even hate the word war.” Although Afghan Logistics is not the cheapest (about £53 to £80 a day) for travel, it is among the most knowledgeable and experienced.

However, for my trip to the Bamiyan Valley, site of the famous Buddhas destroyed by the Taleban in 2001, I hitch a lift in an Aga Khan Foundation four-wheel-drive vehicle. It’s a bone-crushing, eight-hour journey along an impossibly pitted and potholed ribbon of unsealed road. The dust comes thick and fast, kicked up like rooster tails from behind slow-moving trucks ahead. Kidney failure aside, it’s worth every shuddering bump and every grain of sand gritted between my teeth. This was once part of the Silk Route and the scenery is overwhelming.

Steep, desert dry hills ranging in hue from sandy grey to deep red rise hundreds of metres on either side of the clear waters of the narrow Bamiyan River. The valley itself is a lush, green belt following the river, where farmers use the precious water to irrigate fields of wheat, orchards and vegetable patches. The route is littered with crumbling adobe buildings, some the size of a small house, while others look as if they are castles from the time of Genghis Khan.

Many are still occupied, people adapting what few modern conveniences can be found to disintegrating structures that could be five centuries old.

My arrival in the valley is timed to see the last of the afternoon sun play across the holes that once housed the Buddhas. From my perch at the Roof of Bamiyan Hotel, I can see practically the whole valley.

There are farmers in fields threshing this season’s grain, kids ambling home from school along footpaths that look like veins on an autumn leaf and old men herding noisy goats on dusty roads. It is all so serene, yet just a couple of hundred miles south a war rages on. It doesn’t seem possible.

In the end, any visit to Afghanistan cannot be taken lightly. It will always have an element of lawlessness. But for those wishing to visit, if proper precautions are taken, the correct research done and a reliable travel company used, then a trip there can be a rewarding and exhilarating experience. This was my third trip to the country since 9/11 — and I’m looking forward to returning.

Need to know

Doug McKinlay travelled to Kabul via Dubai. London-Dubai return fares with Virgin Atlantic (0870 1668747, www.virgin-atlantic.com) start at £238.30. Dubai- Kabul return fares with Ariana Afghan Airlines start at £260 with Ariana Travel (0208-8843 0011, www.arianatravel.co.uk).

Double rooms at the Kabul Serena Hotel (00 93 79 9654 000, www.serenahotels.com) from £70 a night; Mustafa Hotel, Kabul (00 93 70 276021, www.mustafahotel.com) has economy suites from £16 a night.

Transport and tours: Afghan Logistics & Tours (01962 738492, www.afghanlogistics tours.com); Hinterland Travel (01883 743584, www.hinterlandtravel.com).

Bibles, bandits

Travellers have been lured to Afghanistan for hundreds of years, attracted by adventure, danger and the thrill of the unknown.

One man who travelled in the region was the Rev Dr Joseph Wolff, born in 1795. He set off on a lifelong odyssey across the Middle East, central Asia and the Caucasus — his mission to convert the ten tribes of Israel. Along the way, it was said, he argued with Christians, Jews,

Hindus, Sunnis and Shias. Often the consequences were dire — one chief, faced with “this ranting little blob of a man”, immediately put him in chains. Bandits tied him to the tail of a horse, he was stripped naked three times and came close to being burnt alive. However the murderous Amir of Bokhara took one look at Wolff and got such giggles that he was unable to speak. The sight of Wolff, clad in full canonicals with Bible in hand, made the amir “shake with uncontrollable laughter”.

Adapted from The Man Who Would Be King by Ben Macintyre (Harper Perennial, £8.99).