Letter from Kabul: A pretty blonde woman wrapped in a beige pashmina sips a margarita at the bar. Perched on a tall aluminium stool she nods her head in time to the music as a barman rattles a silver cocktail shaker, sending flickers of reflected light streaming across the turquoise walls. Outside tanks roll through the city's dusty, narrow streets shaking crumbling, bullet-holed walls, still standing after 25 years of bloody war. Welcome to Kabul.
With over 1,000 aid agencies in Afghanistan and 10,000 troops in Kabul alone, two brothers from Cornwall spotted a gap in the market and a potential goldmine - after a hard day's slog in a city with some of the most challenging working conditions in the world, there were a hell of a lot of westerners in need of a stiff drink. And so Kabul's first cocktail bar was born.
Up to 60 people a night lounge in the big slumbering sofas of the Elbow Room, or eat at the adjoining restaurant which serves up authentic western food cooked by a Filipino chef. At $16 for a penne puttanesca pasta dish, business is booming.
"When we first opened, we had problems with people getting too pissed," says Ben Adamson, whose father owns a security business in Kabul.
"All of a sudden they could go somewhere relaxed and have a few drinks - a few just got a bit carried away but it's all right now."
As if on queue, the hum of international voices is briefly interrupted as a drunken Dutchman jumps off his seat gesticulating wildly. Some chic Italians raise unimpressed eyebrows. The Dutchman, however, is a harmless NGO worker - the boozers to watch out for are the armed variety.
"We introduced a no-weapons policy. I just don't feel that comfortable serving someone tequila all night after they've just put down their AK47 at the bar," says Joel, who joined his friend six months ago when Ben's brother decided Kabul was not for him.
The Taliban and al-Qaeda still operate in Afghanistan - much of the south of the country is a no-go area and kidnappings and bombings do occur.
A bar full of scantily-clad, alcohol-guzzling westerners does not seem the safest place for foreigners to hang out and many embassies have banned their employees from visiting. But most people, including Joel, are philosophical about the dangers. "You just have to be careful and don't get careless, but you know the threat is imminent."
The Elbow Room is not the place to rub shoulders with the locals - it might be three years since the fall of the Taliban, but not much has changed for the ordinary Afghan. Over a third of Afghan women in Kabul do not leave their homes, either not permitted by the male members of the family or too scared to face the social repercussions of being seen about town. In Afghanistan, being independent is synonymous with being "loose".
Very few women dare to leave their homes without the shroud-like burqa, which is not surprising in a country where women are still jailed for having pre-marital sex or even running away from home. And Afghans can forget about indulging in a tipple - it is illegal for them to drink.
"If anyone found out that you'd be drinking you'd get beaten up by your local neighbourhood. Alcohol is not something that is acceptable here," says Atta, a taxi-driver who ferries drunken westerners to restaurants around town.
"And if an Afghan woman ever came out of her house without covering her hair in my neighbourhood, she'd get stoned," he adds.
Atta is bemused by the assortment of people that now fill the cracks of Kabul society; the city bubbles with a motley crew of coalition troops, aid workers, visiting warlords, private armies, secret prisons, bounty hunters and undercover operatives.
And a western-style bar is not the only new venture to have cropped up. A handful of Chinese "restaurants" have sprouted in the city. Round, red lanterns glow at night, hanging beside guards with Kalashnikovs. Inside, the sounds of Celine Dion and Justin Timberlake thud while dozens of Chinese girls with glittery eye-shadow giggle at new arrivals.
But Peking Duck is not the restaurant's only speciality. For an extra $50 dollars the construction workers and army boys who are here every night can choose from a more exotic menu that includes the pretty, young waitresses. After five years of Islamic fundamentalist rule, Kabul has had to adapt to new demands and now has a fully-functioning sex-industry.
"Kabul was a crazy place that's just got crazier," says Atta.
"You wouldn't have seen anything like this before. In fact, I've never seen anything like it in my life."