KABUL: When Dr Watson gets nostalgic, he tells Sherlock Holmes how army service in Afghanistan toughened him up for those moment’s-notice calls to pack his bags and leave London for the rigours of rural England — usually by first-class train.

For lovers of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s fictional detective and his down-to-earth sidekick, Watson’s stories come alive in the teeming markets of the bustling Afghan capital.

Welcome to Chicken Street, Kabul, lined with shops hidden behind lace curtains selling Afghan carpets, lamb-skin hats favoured by President Hamid Karzai, assorted jewellry and the spoils of 19th century wars against the British.

There is rack after rack of Royal Enfield rifles, inscribed VR (Victoria Regina), bayonets, leather gunpowder flasks, gun belts, riding tackle, Wilkinson swords and necklaces made from Victorian coins, dated 1879 and earlier.

“There are thousands and thousands of Royal Enfields and Tower rifles,” said 16-year-old trader Farhad. “The best come to Chicken Street, because people all over the country know we only sell the best.”

Nearby in another trader’s shop, past the scruffy children, maimed teenagers and women in all-enveloping burqas begging for money, a Royal Enfield could sell for as much as $220.

Asked what he knows about the British campaigns in Afghanistan, Fawad the second trader said, “I know the British were defeated. That’s it.”

Along with the weapons are more poignant reminders of war — pots and pans, candlesticks, walking sticks, pocket watches, leather tape-measures and the equivalent of the modern-day Swiss army penknife, the bone-handled, all-in-one, fold-away spoon, knife and fork.

By the mid-18th century, when the Afghans formed their first independent kingdom under Ahmad Shah, the British were establishing themselves firmly under the guise of the East India Company. They were forever extending the area under their control, ostensibly to maintain the stability needed for trade.

The 19th century saw British India’s “Great Game” rivalry with Russia over Afghanistan, with the British campaign marked by defeats, humiliating retreats and bloody retribution.

The first-floor guest houses on Chicken Street and the adjoining Flower Street were an essential stop on the hippie trail to the east during the 1960s and 1970s, when Afghan coats, beads and marijuana were all the rage.

Then the Soviets invaded and business went flat for years. Under the Taliban’s dour rule, foreigners vanished altogether.

Since Taliban rule ended last year, the street has come alive again with overseas aid workers, diplomats and journalists, many reaching for fat wallets without bothering to bargain.—Reuters