What to Pack for Kabul

Kabul's sidewalks are pitted and gravel-strewn; places like the Gardens of Babur ask you to climb worn steps and loose gravel. Closed-toe shoes with solid soles keep dust and stones out of your socks.

Water pressure and supply schedules in Kabul are unpredictable, so counting on hotel laundry is risky. Quick-dry shirts and socks let you wash in the sink basin and trust they'll be bone-dry by the next desert dawn.

Compression cubes squeeze bulky layers into the same suitcase footprint and keep dust-coated gear away from the clean shirts you'll want later.

You'll need room for water, a fleece for sudden temperature drops, and whatever carpets or lapis trinkets you pick up on Chicken Street. A packable day-bag folds to fist-size when empty.

Kabul runs 220V through Type C, D, and F sockets, often all three in the same hallway. A universal adapter guarantees you can plug in wherever the hotel puts you.

Power cuts roll through Kabul like clockwork. A high-capacity power bank keeps your phone, the map, translator, and lifeline, alive when the grid dies.

Braided cables survive being coiled and uncoiled daily in Kabul's dust. Pack two: if one frays or walks off, you're still charging.

Long flights and generator hum across Kabul add up. Good headphones carve out a pocket of quiet for sleep or sanity.

Spikes and drops on Kabul's grid can fry a motherboard. An increase-protecting strip turns one shaky outlet into four safe ports.

A clear, zip-top pouch lets security see your deodorant and malaria tabs without emptying the bag, saving time and sparing you a scramble for brands you won't find locally.

Pack antiseptic wipes and adhesive strips for the scrapes that come from Kabul's uneven footpaths. Add painkillers for the altitude headache that can sneak up at 1,800 m.

Solid shampoo skips the liquid limit, lasts longer in the dry air, and saves you hunting for familiar brands in Kabul's bazaars.

Bring every pill you'll need, blood-pressure, thyroid, whatever. Kabul pharmacies rarely stock foreign prescriptions, and substitutions aren't guaranteed.

A slim RFID wallet keeps your passport, visa, and permits in one dust-proof sleeve you can pull out at every checkpoint.

A money belt worn under your shirt splits cash and cards from your daypack, the safest way to move money through crowded Kabul streets.

Lock every zipper, checked bag, carry-on, hostel locker. Cheap luggage locks won't stop a pro. But they slow the opportunist on an overnight bus.

Kabul sun barges in early. Curtains in guesthouses can be decorative at best. A molded eye-mask buys you another hour of sleep.

Generators thrum through the night, the call to prayer drifts at dawn. Foam plugs turn the volume down so you can rest.

The air is thin and dry. Dehydration creeps up fast. A collapsible bottle fills from sealed 1-liter bottles you buy everywhere, then rolls away empty.

Chicken Street shopkeepers expect you to haggle, not ask for plastic. A fold-up tote carries bread, apples, or a rolled rug without extra waste.

When the power dies, stairwells go pitch-black. A headlamp leaves both hands free for railing and luggage.

Bottled water is the rule, but a portable purifier backs you up if shops close or your ride breaks down outside the city.