Afghanistan is not top of the list of tourist destinations. On the other hand, it is certainly interesting. I have been here for about a week now, staying, for the most part, in Kabul although I have taken a couple of day trips outside: one to a beautiful village that specialises in ceramics (rather bad ceramics, to be honest), and the other up the spectacular Panjshir valley.

This is a beautiful and fertile bit of the country, with a fish-laden river running through. At times, it looks like an illustration from The Watchtower.

Dotted along the road, sometimes in the river, is abandoned Soviet military equipment: relics of the ten unsuccessful attempts to take the valley during the Soviet occupation. I opened a door of a troop carrier to peer in, and there was everything but the bodies. The bullets were still there, feeding into the machine gun, and a few Soviet papers were lying around, circa 1985.

Kabul itself was mainly destroyed in the civil war of 1992. A few old parts survive, near the old bazaar some of which has not changed since the middle ages. There are other surprising buildings.

A mosque that looks like something from Versailles (a relic of a 1920s drive for modernisation), and a huge palace in the grand European style from the same period - now, sadly, a bombed-out shell full of UXBs.

The people are proud and hospitable. One has to be careful; sometimes, when one buys something, the seller refuses to take payment. One has to ask three times before they, with a show of reluctance, pocket your money.

There are a number of sources of tension here. First, there are a lot (and I mean a lot) of armed men on the streets. A friend reported that an Afghan had told her that a Pashtun (the most populous tribe) 'would no more leave his home without a gun than an Englishman would leave his home without an umbrella' (if only we lived up to the high standards expected of us).

If one remembers the bitter factional infighting of the past few years, it is easy to worry that current truces might not hold. Second, the Taliban (a rather loose collection rather than a clear unity) do not only exist in the South. There are Taliban, and Taliban supporters, about. Finally, this is a deeply conservative society. The Burqa is worn. Alcohol is banned. There are a fair number of foreigners here: people working for the UN, for NGOs and a lot of 'security consultants' (body guards). There are half a dozen places which serve drink - but no Afghans allowed.

There is even - I can report - at least one brothel, staffed by Chinese girls. One does not need to try hard to imagine the consequences of this: a high pressure situation, a lot of young men and women a long way from home, and a lot of drink. Nobody would be too surprised if the outrage this causes leads to a grenade or two coming winging over the walls.

What is it like to be here as a Philosopher? I went around the Kabul museum. A group of Taliban, led by the Minister of Culture, turned up in March 2001 and smashed all the images - including some wonderful sculptures dating from the times of Alexander the Great. The museum staff, working with foreign experts, have worked to restore the damage and the result is a fascinating collection in which Greek, Persian, Russian, Indian and Chinese influences can be found. There are also incredible wooden sculptures from a culture, untouched by Islam, that vanished about 100 years ago. They are about the spookiest things I have ever seen. Another reason not to indulge in facile generalisations in my work on the Philosophy of Art.

Off tomorrow. As it is my last night, and being Thursday, the party night, I am heading down town.

About the author

Derek Matravers is a Senior Lecturer in Philosophy at The Open University. Before that, he was a Research Fellow at Darwin College Cambridge. He is the author of Art and Emotion and numerous articles on aesthetics and ethics.