In fact, Balkh is built on bones. All around its crumbling walls are the bleached remains of human habitation. Every time the city was sacked, what was left of the population simply rebuilt it. If anything sums up Afghanistan's violent history, it's Balkh. Over 3,000 years, it's been sacked an almost unbelievable 700 times. Is it any wonder that the Afghans are crying out for peace?

"Peace is a very important thing. It's not an ordinary thing, (it's) everything comes from peace. Now, if you got peace, you will have school; if you got peace, you can have, you can work; if you got peace, I mean, you don't have to travel from one place to another to be a refugee."

Tomorrow, I head for a sacred valley, a place where a religion was once practiced that prided itself on peacefulness. But it isn't a valley of Islam. I'm finally heading for Bamiyan- the lost valley of the Buddhas.

It's autumn in Afghanistan. And when I first set eyes on the Bamiyan valley, I'm astounded by its beauty. This is the Afghanistan few people ever see. And I'm one of the first westerners for a long time who's been allowed to show it to the world.

The last sector of my journey has taken me from Mazar-e Sharif into the heart of the Hindu Kush. Not far from where natural mineral waters bubble from the ground, I find a great photographic vantage point. From here I catch my first glimpse of the lost Buddhas of Afghanistan, and what colossal statues they are!