Last Updated on: 16th May 2026, 06:49 pm
Northern Afghanistan’s main hub, Mazar-i-Sharif, is home to the stunning Blue Mosque, one of the country’s most beautiful and spiritually significant landmarks. But for centuries, the main city here was Balkh. Once among Central Asia’s greatest cities, it’s connected to historical greats like Zoroaster, Alexander, Rumi, and more.
In the following guide, we’ll be covering what you can expect from a visit to the Blue Mosque, along with the sites you shouldn’t miss during a trip to Old Balkh.
You could probably see everything featured below in one full day, but be sure to set aside time in advance to get your permit in order. At the very end of the article, you can learn more about permits, transport, and the best place to stay in Mazar-i-Sharif.
The Blue Mosque
Mazar-i-Sharif is home to around half a million people, but it essentially just has one notable landmark for tourists: the Blue Mosque. In fact, the city itself was developed around it, with Mazar-i-Sharif translating to ‘Tomb of the Saint.’
At the time of writing, entry to the Blue Mosque costs 350 AFN for foreigners, though non-Muslims aren’t allowed inside the main structure.
The Blue Mosque isn’t just one of Afghanistan’s most beautiful landmarks, but also one of its most spiritually significant. It’s said to host the body of none other than Ali bin Abi Talib (c. 600–661 AD), the son-in-law and companion of the Prophet Muhammad.
And according to Shia Muslims around the world, Imam Ali is the Prophet’s true successor.
Interestingly, this spot was once home to an older mausoleum belonging to a man named Ali al-Balkhi, a Hanafi scholar and Seljuk nobleman. He was actually a distant descendant of Imam Ali and he died in 1092.
A shrine for Imam Ali was then commissioned by the Seljuk Sultan Ahmad Sanjar in 1136, but the reasons why are a bit murky.
Supposedly, the tomb of Ali was miraculously ‘rediscovered’ here in the early 12th century, prompting the sultan to construct a more elaborate structure.
And the reason for this rediscovery? Because an Islamic scholar, or mullah, had a dream that Ali’s bones were brought here.
In any case, the mosque was destroyed by the Mongols upon their invasion in 1220.
And it wouldn’t be rebuilt until the 15th century by an emir of the Timurid Empire, Sultan Husayn Bayqara. It would then later be expanded by the myriad of rulers who’d control the region over the following centuries.
Despite the common belief in the Islamic world that Ali is buried in Najaf, Iraq, many Afghan Shias strongly believe that he’s in fact buried here. As such, it’s an important pilgrimage spot for Afghan Shias who make up roughly 15-20% of the country.
From an aesthetic standpoint, the Blue Mosque can hold its own against anything in neighboring Uzbekistan, a country that’s becoming increasingly trendy due to its eye-catching architecture.
The beautiful colors and patterns of the countless tiles here are astounding, and I spent a while walking around and taking in the details.
And on top of that, lots of friendly Afghans – many of whom were visiting from other parts of the country – requested that I take their photos.
While photos weren’t allowed inside, your ticket to the complex will also grant you access to a small museum featuring artifacts discovered in the region dating back centuries.
A Guide to Old Balkh
Though seldom talked about today, it wouldn’t be an understatement to call Balkh one of the most important cities of ancient Asia.
Balkh was the heart of the ancient region Bactria, and it was a place where Zoroastrian, ancient Greek, and Buddhist ideas flourished side-by-side (much like the neighboring Gandhara region).
In fact, Balkh is believed to have been the birthplace of Zoroaster himself sometime in the 6th or 7th century BC (though some scholars push his birth year all the way back to 1200 BC).
In the Buddhist tradition, the Buddha’s first disciples, Trapusa and Bahalika, were from Balkh (the city’s name may have been derived from Bahalika). Balkh may have been home to some of the world’s first Buddhist stupas.
In the Persian national epic, the Shahnameh, Balkh is often described as being an important stronghold at the edge of greater Iran. Beyond it was the land of the Turks, and many of the wars between the Iranian and Turkic peoples described in the epic took place around here.
Sadly, like many once-great cities in Central Asia, the Mongols ravaged the entire city, so it’s hard to get a sense of its former splendor. In 1333, the famous Muslim traveler Ibn Battuta described Balkh as a city in ruin, as would numerous other visitors over the years.
As we’ll cover below, Balkh is also closely related to multiple other major historical figures, and a day trip shouldn’t be missed by history lovers traveling through the region.
How to Get to Old Balkh
Old Balkh is located about 24 km northwest of Mazar-i-Sharif, and you’ll need to arrange for a private driver to take you there. With help from my hotel, I paid 2500 AFN for the half-day trip.
At the time of my visit to Afghanistan, as long as one obtained the necessary permits, foreigners were allowed to travel through most of the country freely and independently. One exception I encountered was Ghazni, where I was required to be accompanied by a staff member from the local Ministry of Information & Culture Office.
Old Balkh was another exception. But in this case, visitors are required to be accompanied by an armed Taliban guard.
While I’m unsure of the specific details of the security situation, this rule only applied to Old Balkh specifically and not the city of Mazar-i-Sharif.
After leaving my hotel, my driver and I headed to the local Taliban security compound situated across the street from Balkh Province’s government offices. After a brief chat inside, the guard assigned to us then joined us in our vehicle. Fortunately, he turned out to be a calm and easygoing guy.
Though I wasn’t charged for this, I did later cover the guard’s lunch upon our return to the city.
The Mosque of Nine Cupolas
Our first stop of the day was the Mosque of Nine Cupolas, also known as the ‘Mosque of the Walking Pilgrim.’ But as one can immediately tell, it no longer serves as an active place of worship.
Fascinatingly, this may be Afghanistan’s very oldest Islamic building, dating back to the late 8th century, or perhaps early 9th century.
It dates to a time when the Abbasid Caliphate ruled much of the Middle East and Khorasan, and accordingly, its decoration resembles typical Abbasid architecture.
But it also resembles the later art style of the Samanid Empire that would soon take hold over much of Central Asia.
The stucco decorations feature various intricate vegetal motifs. In fact, every single bit of the interior seems to have been carved in patterns.
But the mosque has been badly damaged by earthquakes over the years, and all of the original nine domes have collapsed.
Fascinatingly, the mosque is believed to have been built over a prominent Buddhist monastery known as Nava-Vihara.
Balkh was a major center of the Greco-Bactrian Kingdom and later the predominantly Buddhist Kushan Empire. And when the Chinese monk Xuanzang visited in the 7th century AD, Buddhism – particularly the Theravada school – was still thriving here.
The vizier of the first Abbasid caliph, Al-Mansur, was from Balkh, and his name was Khalid. What’s more, he was a Barmakid – an influential Iranian Buddhist family that converted to Islam upon the Arab conquest of the region.
During his time in Baghdad, Khalid even translated various Sanskrit texts into Arabic, many of which dealt with medical and pharmacological topics.
Despite the structure’s significance, it was only rediscovered in the 1960s. One wonders, then, what other future surprises Old Balkh might have in store for us.
The Green Mosque
First constructed in the 15th century, the Green Mosque in the center of town is a remarkable example of Timurid architecture. It was then renovated during the late 16th century by the Shaybanid dynasty.
The complex is also known as the Mosque of Khawaja Abu Nasr Parsa after a prominent Sufi saint who died in 1461. And as is typically the case at mausoleums in the region, you’ll find a general cemetery just outside.
The mosque features a large central dome and two minarets. And the entire structure is covered in colorful tiles, many of which form Kufic calligraphy.
If you’ve already visited Uzbekistan, it makes for an interesting contrast with the heavily restored Timurid monuments there.
As for the name, I find it a little puzzling, as the mosque appears much more blue to me. Some of the tiles, however, are indeed turquoise.
The mosque is surrounded by a large public garden where locals come to hang out or simply pass through. And within the garden is another significant tomb belonging to Rabia Balkhi.
Born in the 10th century, she was a local princess who fell in love with one of her brother’s slaves. And she’s remembered for the poetry she wrote for him in New Persian.
But she was later banished by her family to a hamam, or traditional bath. And it’s there that she slit her wrists.
On the subject of women, contrary to what the Western media may tell you, women are indeed allowed to walk freely and unaccompanied in Taliban-controlled Afghanistan. And there were plenty of women in the park on this day.
The Taliban, however, has implemented a strict ‘no photography’ rule regarding women, which I had been aware of.
After snapping some pictures of the park, the Taliban guard accompanying me politely reminded me of the rule, after which I showed him that I’d zoomed in to avoid capturing the women nearby. He seemed satisfied and didn’t bring it up again.
The Citadel
Old Balkh’s ‘Bala Hissar’ is the remains of a circular fort that stretches out to about 1 km in diameter.
It’s in rather poor shape, and little survives other than fragments of the walls. But considering all the kingdoms and rulers that controlled it, these walls certainly have stories to tell.
Like other ancient forts in Afghanistan, Balkh’s citadel was once held by Alexander the Great. He didn’t build it, however, but merely occupied a prior Persian structure. In any case, Balkh plays a major role in his story.
Balkh, then the satrapy of Bactria, was ruled by a man named Bessus. And Bessus conspired with other Achaemenid governors to arrest the emperor at the time, Darius III. They ultimately killed him in the midst of the ongoing war against Alexander’s forces.
One of Bessus’s subordinates in Balkh was a man named Oxyartes, who fled the region upon Alexander’s invasion. And after the Macedonians claimed victory over the region, Alexander fell in love with a daughter of Oxyartes named Roxana.
After their marriage, she would even accompany her husband to India. Later on, she would give birth to Alexander’s son shortly after his death. But both of them would tragically be killed during the Wars of the Diadochi.
The massive circular Bala Hissar was then occupied by nearly countless subsequent rulers. But the current walls we see today largely date to the Timurid period – largely by Timur’s son, Shah Rukh.
In some parts, the walls reach up to 20 m high!
While far from obvious today, the barren interior of the circle would’ve long served as a ‘city within a city’ for Balkh’s elite. Today, there’s nothing but an open field.
Rumi's Home
There’s yet another hugely important figure associated with Balkh: Rumi.
In the 13th century, a renowned Sufi mystic and theologian named Baha al-Din Walad ran a school and religious retreat in Balkh. And this building near the citadel, now protected under scaffolding, are its remains.
But as the Mongols wreaked havoc upon Central Asia and Iran, the Sultanate of Rum in Anatolia was considered a safe haven.
Baha al-Din Walad decided to take his family and travel as far as Konya, the capital of the Seljuk Empire at the time. And he even got a job teaching at the royal court, as Persian, the administrative language of the Seljuks, was his native tongue.
Upon Baha al-Din’s death, he was succeeded by his son. This legendary mystic and poet would become widely known as Jalal ad-Din (‘Glory of the Faith’) Rumi (‘of Rum,’ i.e. Konya). And today in Turkey, most people call him Mevlana, or ‘Our Master.’
In 1244, Rumi’s life changed when he met a Sufi mystic named Shams of Tabriz. Their relationship only lasted for four years until Sham’s mysterious disappearance. But Rumi’s exchanges with Shams would greatly affect his outlook on life and religion.
Rumi was bereft upon Shams’ sudden death. But he managed to redirect his grief to a longing for the divine. This longing, often likened to a lover’s longing, is what inspired the poetry for which he’s now known.
As mentioned, these ruins in Old Balkh are what remain of Rumi’s father’s school. Yet there’s still some debate over precisely where Rumi was born and raised.
While some say that it was in the center of Balkh city, others believe it was in the town of Wakhsh, which was part of the larger province of Balkh.
In any case, it was quite fascinating to come to this place associated with Rumi’s childhood after previously having visited his grave in Konya.
In contrast to the constant stream of pilgrims at his tomb, my driver, guard and I just shared the ruins with a couple of local kids who were passing through.
The Old City Walls
In the southern part of Old Balkh is another section of the old city walls that visitors can observe, complete with a modern lookout point.
In contrast to the Citadel mentioned above, which served as a ‘city within a city,’ these walls are what surrounded the entirety of ancient Balkh.
The ancient walls stretch out to around 11 km in circumference. They likely date as far back to the Hellenistic period, though what we see today was likely built by the Timurids.
Supposedly, the wall once had as many as 18 towers. But this might be the only refurbished one for visitors to enjoy today. Like every other historical landmark I visited in Old Balkh, access to the tower was free.
Additional Info
While it may be tempting to choose one of the hotels right across the street from the Blue Mosque on the western side, I checked out several different hotels there and they were all offering terrible value for money. (This was after already having traveled around the country for a few weeks.)
I’d arrived in the city with no prior hotel reservations following a grueling 21-hour shared taxi journey from Herat. So hopping from hotel to hotel in this state was far from ideal. Yet, despite wanting more than anything to lie down and take a rest, most of the places I saw had major flaws.
Many of the rooms were filthy, while a lot of the hotels here fail to provide towels for some reason. The Wifi barely seemed to work in the rooms I checked, while the hotel managers were quoting me double the prices I’d seen online.
Ultimately, I walked over to Hotel Zarafshan and asked if they had a room. Fortunately, they did, and their price was 1500 AFN which included a private bathroom and breakfast. This was one of the best deals I found in Afghanistan and thanks to the friendly staff, it was one of my top accommodation experiences in the country.
They also connected me with a reliable driver to visit Takht-e-Rostam in Samangan Province as a day trip. As we’ll cover in our dedicated guide, Samangan Province also has some special rules in place for foreign visitors, and it’s important to go with an experienced driver who knows exactly what to do.
If you’re looking for something a bit more upscale, you can find Rahat Hotel right across the street from Zarafshan.
As with everywhere in Afghanistan, you’ll need to obtain local permits for Balkh Province upon your arrival in Mazar-i-Sharif. Fortunately, the Ministry of Information & Culture Office is an easy walk from the Blue Mosque (see map above).
While I’d found getting the local permits to be pretty straightforward up until this point (as long as there was no holiday, at least), my experience here was a bit different.
First of all, the main officers here barely spoke English in contrast to the other Ministry of Information officers I’d encountered elsewhere in the country. But fortunately, a staff member from another department served as an unofficial translator (he’d later offer his tour guide services, which I politely declined).
I was told I had to provide my own copy of my passport and visa on a single piece of paper in color. While not terribly difficult, this was not a requirement in any other province. Fortunately, however, there was a guy offering copy services right outside the office (quite literally on the sidewalk).
Back in the office, I was then told something about getting a local ID card. I had no idea what they were talking about, because nobody had ever mentioned this to me after nearly a month in the country. They said I should still get one. But after I kept asking for details, they dropped the subject and said it didn’t really matter. Ultimately, I was never asked for this anywhere.
After around an hour, I finally got the permit I’d come for. But I’m still confused as to why things were so complicated at this particular office.
Note that if you’ll be entering Afghanistan from Uzbekistan, this office is where you’ll need to obtain your main permit for the entire country (I’d already gotten mine in Kabul).
Looking at a map of Afghanistan, a lot of the major destinations can be visited by doing a loop around the country. Having arrived in Kabul, I visited Kandahar and then Herat. And I then wanted to visit Mazar-i-Sharif before moving on to Uzbekistan.
The problem was, however, that the roads on this journey are mostly TERRIBLE – or even nonexistent in some parts! Still, transport technically does exist. You’ll have to take a shared taxi from Herat to Maimana, and then from Maimana to Mazar-i-Sharif (the roads on the second leg are mostly fine).
It’s a grueling journey that lasts at least 20 hours in total. But if you’ve found yourself in Herat and opt not to do it, you’ll basically be stuck flying to Kabul, as the land journey between Herat and Kabul is also said to be terrible at the time of writing.
Not only was I on a budget, but I was also determined to complete a much longer land journey between Mumbai and Beijing without taking a single flight. So I had no choice but to opt for the shared taxi.
The shared taxi terminal in Herat is not labeled on any maps application. But it’s located about an 8-minute drive east of the Herat Citadel along the main highway. You might need to ask multiple locals about it, as the first staff member at my hotel I spoke with gave me completely incorrect information. But the next person I asked had the right info and informed a taxi driver where to take me.
I was also told that shared taxis to Maimana leave pretty regularly throughout the day beginning in the morning. Considering the estimated length of the journey, I decided not to go too early.
Note that it’s possible to break up this tough journey by spending a night at a hotel in Maimana. However, I decided to just do everything in one go and save money on hotel fees.
As I didn’t want to arrive in Mazar-i-Sharif in the middle of the night, I decided to depart my hotel in Herat at around 11:00 am.
Upon my arrival at the terminal, a vehicle (an ordinary minivan) would be departing soon. I paid 1700 AFN for the journey, along with an extra 200 AFN to put my luggage on the roof (the dust from the journey would ultimately ruin my suitcase zippers).
The price seemed a bit high, but talking with fellow passengers, that’s also what they paid. I suppose the cost is so expensive because of the terrible road conditions which surely take a heavy toll on any vehicle.
I sat in the back, but if you want a front row seat, expect to pay double!
Fortunately, there was a friendly English-speaking man in the car who kindly helped translate for me whenever necessary.
We started the journey with three grown men in the back seat. It felt a bit cramped, but I thought okay, I’ll just get through it. But we eventually picked up one more passenger, and now four men were crammed in the backseat! It was just as awful as you’d imagine.
There were also two additional passengers in the trunk. I’d originally been offered a space in the station wagon trunk which I declined, but I quickly regretted my decision.
At least we stopped fairly often. And I was somewhat relieved when we got a flat tire at one point, so I could at least get out and walk around.
After several hours, the paved road ended and we drove along on a dirt road which wasn’t so bad yet. We eventually stopped for dinner at a restaurant in a small village at around 20:00.
After dinner, the road completely disappeared. It was just dirt and sand, with no indication of where one was supposed to go. It seemed like a giant dried up river bed, and our driver often had to ford large streams of water.
At around midnight, the car’s gearbox failed, and all the passengers had to walk about twenty minutes to the nearest village after the car was towed.
We were charged at by so many dogs in all directions and had to keep throwing stones to fend them off. There seemed to be an almost endless number of them, and it felt at points like we were in some kind of video game. At one point dogs were even coming at us from three sides simultaneously!
Eventually, however, we made it to the village unscathed. The car was fixed, and we eventually made it to Maimana at around two in the morning.
Despite the late hour, there were taxi drivers waiting at the Maimana terminal for the onward journey to Mazar-i-Sharif. A few people from my journey from Herat got in a car with me, but fortunately there were now just three people in the back instead of four.
I paid 650 AFN for this ride and slept for most of it. But our driver ran into a curb at a roundabout fairly early on! My eyes were closed during the incident, but it was already light out, and I suspect he fell asleep while driving.
We then had to wait for another driver to come and take us in his place. He was also rather reckless but fortunately, there were no more accidents. We finally arrived in Mazar-i-Sharif at around 8 in the morning, bringing my total trip time around 21 hours.
Hilariously, as soon as we arrived, a driver approached us and asked if we wanted to go to Herat! Apparently, you can make the journey from Mazar-i-Sharif to Herat directly without a transfer in Maimana.
Getting to Mazar-i-Sharif from Kabul is fairly straightforward. While I didn’t make the journey myself, the road is said to be paved the whole way, with the ride lasting around five hours.
You should have the option between shared taxis and VIP Buses, but it would be best to confirm things on the ground once you’re there.
It may also be possible to fly via Kam Air or Ariana Afghan Airlines.
For those who’ve entered the country from Tajikistan, you should also be able to find direct transport from Kunduz.
Mazar-i-Sharif is also located right by the border with Uzbekistan. There’s a city right on the other side of the border called Termez, which is a worthy destination in its own right.
When I traveled onward to Uzbekistan, I paid a taxi driver 1500 AFN to take me to the border (I had to work pretty hard to get down to this price). A bus to the border is another possibility.
The border is rather calm compared with the chaos of the Torkham Border with Pakistan, but expect heavy scrutiny on the Uzbek side. Once in Uzbekistan, you should be able to find a taxi on the other side to take you right into town.