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The Anthologies: Expedition: The Anthologies
The Anthologies: Expedition: The Anthologies
The Anthologies: Expedition: The Anthologies
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The Anthologies: Expedition: The Anthologies

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During a career of thirty years, Tahir Shah has published dozens of books on travel, exploration, topography, and research, as well as a large body of fiction.

Through this extraordinary series of Anthologies, selections from the corpus are arranged by theme, allowing the reader to follow certain threads that are of profound interest to Shah.

Spanning a number of distinct genres – in both fiction and non-fiction work – the collections incorporate a wealth of unpublished material. Prefaced by an original introduction, each Anthology provides a lens into a realm that has shaped Shah's own outlook as a bestselling author.

Regarded as one of the most prolific and original writers working today, Tahir Shah has a worldwide following. Published in hundreds of editions, and in more than thirty languages, his books turn the world back to front and inside out. Seeking to make sense of the hidden underbelly, he illuminates facets of life most writers hardly even realize exist.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 17, 2022
ISBN9781914960376
The Anthologies: Expedition: The Anthologies

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    Book preview

    The Anthologies - Tahir Shah

    For Sir Ranulph Fiennes

    The Anthologies:

    Africa

    Ceremony

    Childhood

    City

    Danger

    East

    Expedition

    Frontier

    Hinterland

    India

    Jungle

    Morocco

    People

    Quest

    South

    Taboo

    By Tahir Shah:

    Travel

    Trail of Feathers

    Travels With Myself

    Beyond the Devil’s Teeth

    In Search of King Solomon’s Mines

    House of the Tiger King

    In Arabian Nights

    The Caliph’s House

    Sorcerer’s Apprentice

    Journey Through Namibia

    Novels

    Jinn Hunter: Book One – The Prism

    Jinn Hunter: Book Two – The Jinnslayer

    Jinn Hunter: Book Three – The Perplexity

    Hannibal Fogg and the Supreme Secret of Man

    Hannibal Fogg and the Codex Cartographica

    Casablanca Blues

    Eye Spy

    Godman

    Paris Syndrome

    Timbuctoo

    Midas

    Zigzagzone

    Nasrudin

    Travels With Nasrudin

    The Misadventures of the Mystifying Nasrudin

    The Peregrinations of the Perplexing Nasrudin

    The Voyages and Vicissitudes of Nasrudin

    Nasrudin in the Land of Fools

    Stories

    The Arabian Nights Adventures

    Scorpion Soup

    Tales Told to a Melon

    The Afghan Notebook

    The Caravanserai Stories

    Ghoul Brothers

    Hourglass

    Imaginist

    Jinn’s Treasure

    Jinnlore

    Mellified Man

    Skeleton Island

    Wellspring

    When the Sun Forgot to Rise

    Outrunning the Reaper

    The Cap of Invisibility

    On Backgammon Time

    The Wondrous Seed

    The Paradise Tree

    Mouse House

    The Hoopoe’s Flight

    The Old Wind

    A Treasury of Tales

    Daydreams of an Octopus & Other Stories

    Miscellaneous

    The Reason to Write

    Zigzag Think

    Being Myself

    Research

    Cultural Research

    The Middle East Bedside Book

    Three Essays

    Anthologies

    The Anthologies

    The Clockmaker’s Box

    The Tahir Shah Fiction Reader

    The Tahir Shah Travel Reader

    Edited by

    Congress With a Crocodile

    A Son of a Son, Volume I

    A Son of a Son, Volume II

    Screenplays

    Casablanca Blues: The Screenplay

    Timbuctoo: The Screenplay

    Secretum Mundi Publishing Ltd

    Kemp House

    City Road

    London

    EC1V 2NX

    United Kingdom

    www.secretum-mundi.com

    info@secretum-mundi.com

    First published by Secretum Mundi Publishing Ltd, 2019

    THE ANTHOLOGIES: EXPEDITION

    © TAHIR SHAH

    Tahir Shah asserts the right to be identified as the Author of the Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

    A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

    Visit the author’s website at: www.tahirshah.com

    ISBN: 978-1-914960-37-6

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

    This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

    Contents

    Introduction

    Hannibal’s Secret Chamber

    When the Incas Flew

    Patagonian Days

    Grave-Robbing Guilt

    In the Emperor’s Jeep

    Roasted Sloth

    The Modus Operandi

    On the River of God

    Shipwrecked

    A Short Walk in the Upper Amazon

    In the Empty Quarter

    Mules to Tulla Wallel

    The Cross of Lalibela

    Next Stop: The Jungle

    The Meaning of Hardship

    The Cliff-top Monastery

    Descent into Miao Keng

    The Pot Noodle Aphrodisiac

    On the River

    Watching the Rot

    The Accursed Jungle

    Introduction

    AS A SMALL

    child at Langton House, I had a battered old cardboard box in the corner of my bedroom.

    On each side was a picture of two giant upright bananas, a hammock slung low between them, along with a caption: ‘Welcome to Bananaland!’

    The box arrived when I was about six, and was still there in the corner of my bedroom when Langton House was sold seventeen years later. In that time, it got more and more bashed about, but was much prized for what it contained.

    Expedition equipment.

    I’m not sure if it was the banana box that first sowed the idea of exploration, or whether it was the precious objects inside that stirred me. I like to think it was a mixture of the two.

    For as long as I can remember, the banana box was a receptacle for the kind of gear I imagined would be needed on a grand expedition. As I’d never been on an expedition, I relied on The 1971 Scout Annual and word-of-mouth information passed on by the full gamut of characters who visited us.

    Whenever an elderly gentleman strode through into the hallway, I’d slink out of the shadows and ask if they had been on an expedition. Sometimes they responded politely that they had not, or that they had but it was too long ago to remember the details. But not infrequently, they would clap their hands together as if having won the Derby, and reveal everything they knew.

    One of the most reliable elderly gentlemen who came to Langton House was a military man called Dr Grimes. No matter the weather, he was invariably dressed impeccably in tweed, a farmer’s checked shirt, and a regimental tie. Langton House seemed to instil politeness from its visitors, but Dr Grimes took courtesy to an entirely new level.

    Looking back, I sense he had absolutely no interest in discussing expeditions with a six-year-old but, such was his expertise, he gave the impression that nothing on earth would give him greater pleasure.

    Before Dr Grimes would visit, I would ask my parents over and over if he was a true expert on the expedition business.

    ‘Of course he is!’ my father would exclaim.

    ‘No one’s done more expeditions than Grimes,’ my mother would add, looking up from her knitting.

    ‘What kind of expeditions does he know about?’

    The question would cause both my parents to appear transfixed, as though they had seen angels.

    ‘He’s done them all,’ my father would say.

    ‘Searched for treasure?’

    ‘Oh, yes, of course.’

    ‘Lost cities?’

    ‘So many, yes!’

    ‘Unknown animals?’

    Again, my father would nod frantically.

    ‘Another one of his specialities.’

    ‘Do you think Dr Grimes minds me talking to him?’ I would ask.

    ‘I think he likes it very much,’ my mother would say.

    ‘Why?’

    ‘Because I suspect it reminds him of his youth.’

    Over the years Dr Grimes visited, he would ask how my equipment was getting on, and would ask to see any new bits and pieces I had sequestered away in the banana box.

    Sometimes I’d show him a few feet of parachute cord I’d found on the ground in the village, or a clutch of bottle caps pressed from a sheet of extra-thick tin.

    ‘Very useful,’ Dr Grimes would intone. ‘This will be just what you need when you’re on the expedition.’

    One day, when Dr Grimes and I had got to know each other better, I hurried over as soon as he’d blustered in through the hallway.

    ‘I think it’s time you start planning some expeditions,’ he said.

    Some expeditions?’

    ‘Yes.’

    ‘Don’t you think I ought to begin with one expedition and see how that goes?’ I asked anxiously – after all, I was only eight.

    ‘Oh no… no, no, no,’ Mr Grimes responded fast. ‘You must always plan several expeditions at once.’

    ‘Why?’

    ‘Because it’s the only way to be certain of thinking big!’

    ‘How big should I be thinking?’ I probed warily.

    Dr Grimes beckoned me forward. By this point he was sitting in a low armchair in the drawing room, his face in line with my own.

    Stepping forward, I observed him, my mind mapping the wrinkles, the broken veins, and the individual strands of silvery bristle that formed his moustache.

    His bloodshot blue eyes peering deep into mine, he responded:

    ‘When you’re older you will find something to be true.’

    ‘What, Dr Grimes?’

    ‘That almost everyone you will ever meet will set the bar very low. They don’t push themselves.’

    ‘Why not?’

    ‘Because they’re frightened.’

    ‘Frightened of what?’

    ‘Frightened of failure!’

    My expression was taut, my mouth cold.

    ‘I don’t want to fail,’ I said.

    ‘Nonsense!’ Dr Grimes boomed. ‘If you stop fearing failure and start doing things, you’ll ultimately succeed!’

    ‘What expedition should I plan?’

    Dr Grimes tugged out a silk handkerchief, blew his nose, grunted, and said:

    ‘One of each I should think.’

    ‘A lost city…?’

    ‘Yes, that’s a good start, and a lost treasure, and a plant and animal that are unknown, and a species of butterfly… and what about meteorites as well?’

    Fetching a pen and paper from my father’s study, I made a list and showed it to Dr Grimes. Pulling out a monocle, he went through it one item at a time.

    ‘I want you to promise me something,’ he said all of a sudden, his bird-like hand snatching my wrist.

    ‘Something about expeditions?’

    ‘Yes.’

    ‘What?’

    ‘That people will say you can’t find a lost city or a treasure… or that you’re too young or too unprepared. Every time they doubt you, make up your mind to prove them wrong – do you understand?’

    ‘Yes, Dr Grimes, I do.’

    Slipping away his glasses case, he blew his nose again, and grunted twice.

    ‘The reason to go on an expedition is not to discover about the place you are traversing,’ he said. ‘But to learn about yourself. Know yourself inside and out and only then will you be the man you’re destined to be.’

    Tahir Shah

    Hannibal’s Secret Chamber

    THE ARMOURED STEEL

    door unlocked, then inched open.

    As Will, Emma and Chaudhury stepped across the threshold, a deafening hissing sound prevailed, as though there was a gas leak. A series of dazzling electric lights blasted into life, illuminating the chamber.

    Shielding their eyes, the three of them stepped forward, just in time for the steel security door to slam behind them.

    Their eyes growing accustomed to the brightness, they began to appreciate the scope and scale of the vault.

    A hundred yards square and twenty feet high, its walls and floor were laid in reinforced steel. Packed with expedition equipment, the chamber appeared to

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