Islamabad is like Canberra. Sort of. It has wide, clean streets, lots of diplomatic people, embassies, important looking cars, and not a lot else (sorry Gem and Matty). There are shopping areas with restaurants, book shops and clothing outlets, but the real life of the place lies in the smaller markets, one of which is right across the road from the 'Tourist Campsite'. At the camp site we found some French overlanders we'd met in Delhi, a Canadian couple we'd been in touch with via email and the German's from Amtritsar. Everyone was waiting to hear about their Iranian visas, and some had been there for a while.
We planned to only stay a few days in order to apply again for our Iranian visas directly through the embassy, and to visit the Toyota dealer who would fix a dodgy clutch noise and skim the braked discs. Of course the embassy was closed on Friday's and over the weekend, and we'd arrived Thursday night, so it was 4 days before we could even visit the Diplomatic Enclave.
The campsite itself is large and green and quite pleasant. Most of the area is covered in large, leafy trees, some of which house baby owls. There are 4 dilapidated buildings which used to be the toilets/showers, a kitchen area, family room and baggage storage, housing the camp-site manager, a gardener (I think that is what he is meant to do) and a couple of travellers without tents. There is a large area of permanent mud-brick huts and tents where the soldiers live while they are posted at the campsite. Two of them are usually on duty at any one time, and stand/sit by their tents with their kalishnakovs. The toilet block is my worst nightmare. The men's side is so filthy and the toilets are blocked, so most of the campsite's male guests choose to use the female side. Unfortunately the 25 soldiers choose to do the same. The small bottle of bleach I bought didn't seem to go far...
French Lucy and Fabrice shared a taxi with us on the way to the Diplomatic Enclave early Monday morning, showing us how to get in without having to catch the expensive Embassy bus. Once in there we found the whole place covered in marijuana plants! Pakistan is full of the stuff, growing on the road sides like weeds. We got the Iranian visa forms and headed back to the camp site to fill them in, add our photos and lay about a bit. We met a lovely Danish couple who were having a big problem with their landrover, and Pommy Daniel, who is living in Hyderabad at present. Such an eclectic group of people made the camp site heat bare-able, and meant we could sit around sharing travelling tales and reminiscing about our favourite places.
We went out for dinner a few times to break up the monotony of waiting about the camp site to hear about visas, and visited some local sites. The Grand Mosque is definitely worth a look, especially with its unusual design which breaks from the more typical Muslim curves.
We caught one of the many well decorated taxi's to the mosque with some friends and afterwards began the first stage of our mammoth search for beer. Without a liquor licence it is illegal to buy or consume alcohol in Islamabad, unless you can afford to stay at one of the fancy hotels such as the Marriott. Being poor travellers, dressed in dusty and sweaty salwar kameez's and smelly t-shirts, we decided we had nothing to lose by trying our luck at the Marriott bar.
After being patted down and walking through various metal detectors, we were allowed to enter the grounds. Earlier this year a bomb ruined much of this lovely hotel, leaving security guards and bomb-detecting dogs scouring the surrounding streets.
Inside, it looked magnificent and, to our hot thirsty selves, very inviting. We were lead down a long corridor to a dark door. 'We're going to hell for this' Darius said in his German accent, and we all laughed. Inside, down some stairs we found the perfect bar. Snooker, table football, TV's, Air Conditioning, and lots and lots of cold drinks. Unfortunately the price of the cheapest beer is 8 times the price of normal beer! Dejected, we walked back upstairs, deciding instead to get an official liquor permit, so we could buy beer ourselves.
The process for buying beer legitimately goes like this;- You photocopy your passport and visa
- Locate the liquor permit officer and get a form to fill in, and a payment slip to take to the bank.
- Take payment slip to the correct branch of the correct bank, and pay the fee for the permit.
- Present the payment receipt to the liquor permit man who stamps the forms
- Give your passport along with forms to a bloke who takes it to another bloke, who stamps your passport.
- Take forms to the chief prohibition officer's office who signs them off
- Then you can take the completed forms and your passport to a Wine Shop
- You buy some Pakistani beer - hooray!
This process took us 4 different visits over 3 days - and on the last day we spent nearly 5 hours, just to get a cold beer.
The small problems (or curiosities) that we were faced with were;- The liquor permit man shuts up shop at 3pm
- His office is actually a table under a tree
- He also doubles as the car roadworthy bloke
- Banks close at 12pm on Fridays
- The liquor bloke failed to tell us to get the forms signed by prohibition officer
- Prohibition officer officialy has lunch between from 1pm -2pm, except it is really until 3pm
- The wine shop is not so easy to find and turns out to be at the back of the Marriot compound
- Taxis are not allowed near the Marriot
- In a loaded Landcruiser there are inconvenient vehicle searches surrounding the Marriot
- The beer is expensive and not cold
The beer by the way was ok.
The visit to Toyota proved to be more useful than anticipated as they located and replaced a water damaged wheel bearing. Labour is dirt cheap. They also have free internet in air-conditioned comfort which was nice, although at Landrover you get a free lunch apparently.
To pass the time we also decided to try our luck with the British and Australian embassies. Friends of ours had been invited to dinner and drinks at their embassies, one guy even got invited to the Czech embassy because there isn't a Slovak one! They sent him back with red wine for us (they saw the camp-site facilities and felt sorry for us I think) and some Heinekins! Unfortunately, the Australian embassy just had some Pakistani staff who wanted me to fill in their 'Safe traveler' forms, and the British embassy was too busy with potentially new Brits to see him. Boring. We will try to con the Danes into visiting their embassy, and see if they can take friends.
Rawalpindi (Pindi) is a second city, now almost joined to Islamabad. It is the real guts of the place, with dirty car markets, crowded street stalls and absolutely NO WOMEN on the streets. We headed there with Daniel, to buy some 'car stuff', and just to nosey around. Realistically though, it's just too hot in Islamabad, and we decided to forget about waiting here for two weeks for our Iranian visa rejection and head to Gilgit in the Northern Areas.
The Karakoram Highway (KKH) is famed for its beauty, and for getting weary, hot tourists away from the cities of southern Pakistan, and into the mountainsK2, Nanga Parpat and then road stretches to China. We packed our things and agreed to meet some friends half way up the Hwy in a few days.
The first part of the journey was interesting, all the amazingly decorated trucks and buses, much more elaborate than Indian trucks. The landscape was nothing special, but it was good to just be on the move again.
We'd been advised to head up the Kaghan Valley, where a jeep track would then get us back onto the KKH. Fortunately halfway up we bumped into a cycling friend on his way down who informed us that the Babusar Pass was still closed due to snow.
Luckily we had only driven a few hours into this route. We had just climbed 1000m and although the air was cooler, we really longed to be cold!
Many of the villages in this area were deveatated in 2005 by the earthquake, having recovered and resumed farming after the 1974 quake that buried whole villages and killed over 7000 people.
It took us 2 days to get to Gilgit through the North Western Frontier province. The KKH roads in this region are picturesque but certainly not the most beautiful we've driven. We found our guide book mentioning 'old blood wars', 'unfriendly villagers', 'police shootings' and plenty of warnings about staying on the main road. Driving at night was STRONGLY advised against, and we were escorted by 2 police on a motorbike for a little while.
Our experiences of the locals have only been positive.
It wasn't until we were 35kms from Gilgit that we ran into some difficulties. Just as Andrew had commented about our shortage of diesel, we began passing long lines of trucks and buses lining the windy roads.
The Chinese road crew had been unable to clear the roackfall that had covered the road, and all large vehicles would have to wait until the next day at least before carrying on. An alternate route over the Indus River and through some small villages was suggested to us, and as the sun began to set, we saw this as our best option. I didn't fancy sleeping next to the hundreds of caged chickens that hadn't quite made it to market that day. Instead, we negotiated our first suspension bridge in the 3 tonne landcruiser. Much safer.
In a short convoy of 2 Toyota Hilux's and a non-descript ute carrying matresses or something, we took turns to catiously roll our heavy cars over the creaking wood. We were fairly confident until a policeman ran out at the end of the bridge when we set off, waving his arms then putting his hands on his head in what looked like despair. A very steep, very narrow, rough track wound up around a cliff face, disconcertingly leaving inches between the outside wheel and the edge. Round a corner a group of locals stood peering over the edge - a car had gone over the edge. The route passed through a village with a river crossing and round some narrow tight corners that required some reversing back and forth to prevent the rear wheel going over the edge. By the time we got back onto the KKH past the landslide it was dark.
We arrived very late at the New Tourist Cottage - a quiet spot with a lovely green garden. The manager kindly moved his car to fit ours in and we slept in our tent after a nice home-made meal of spaghetti and tomato sauce.
The history and geography of the Northern Areas here in Pakistan is incredibly interesting. Close to where we are staying in Gilgit, there stands Nanga Parbat at 8125m (the 8th highest mountain in the world), rivers rush by carrying tonnes of silt, and polo is the most popular sport. The people up here live amongst some of the most rugged and remote mountains in the world. The Silk Road and the spread of Buddhism, the arrival of Islam and the autonomous mini-states that fought NOT to be a part of Pakistan, have all influenced this area so that most people don't think of it as part of Pakistan at all.
In 1966 China and Pakistan decided to construct the KKH (Karakorum Highway) which has enabled Gilgit to thrive, being on the modern trade routes for China and Central Asia. The 2 lane, 1200km road crosses some of the highest mountains in the world.
It wasn't until 1986 that the entire road was open to tourists. Maintenance is a never ending job as rock falls, glaciers, earthquakes and floods are routine. Travel here is never predictable.
We spent a few days in Gilgit at the New Tourist Cottage, which has parking facilities for overlanders. There's only room for 2 cars, but space for tents on the grass. The manager is extremely helpful, knowledgeable and a really nice guy. The guesthouse isn't located in the centre of town, but instead down a busy side street marked by furniture makers, gas appliances, small food stalls and a school. We had found a place that has shade, nice food and company, and we settled in for a few days before deciding it was time to explore the north a bit further. Our friend Daniel recommended Karimabad and Passu, up by the Hunza River, so we stored some of our heavier gear at the guest house, and the 3 of us headed off.
With only a short delay due to the Chinese who are constantly repairing the roads, we reached our first destination in about 4 hours. Karimabad welcomed us with huge cherries and juicy apricots on the trees, steep narrow roads and lovely friendly people.
We stayed in the oldest guest house there, where a man and his sons run the show. The views are spectacular, Ultar II (7388m), Baltit and it's fort, and so much water as the glaciers and snow melt in the sun.
In Karimabad I discovered the 'Gems Cutting & Polishing Centre'. It is established to empower local women, training them in gem cutting, polishing and selling. I sifted through the many different Hunza rubies, quartz cuts, pink sapphires and topaz pieces to find some peridot stones and a quartz square that had a distinct black 'spider vein'. The silver-smith took them, promising to have 2 pendants and some matching earrings ready in a few days. As we sipped Hunza green tea and listened to the explosions of the Chinese dynamite removing chunks from the massive mountain sides, we decided to leave for Passu and it's white glacier. The KKH passes some nice petroglyphs that the Chinese haven't blown up yet.
Passu used to be a much larger town, with a polo field and extensive orchards but glaciers have periodically dammed the Shimshal river, the subsequent floods tearing away the river front. A mudslide in 1974 created a lake that submerged parts of the village. What we saw was a small village, more hotels than houses and a beautiful glacier that shone under the light of the moon.
We caught up again with our German/Phillipino friends who recommended a walk to two small villages, Zarabad and Hussaini, which are reached via two wobbly suspension bridges.
Five and a half hours later, sore legs and blisters (Daniel felt fine...) we had ventured over the river, up some rocky plains, through lush green fields, negotiated village tracks between small stone and mud brick huts and struggled back up the KKH and over a lateral moraine.
The views of Passu glacier from here were great, well worth the walk.
Sleepy Passu is mainly good for hikers, and seeing as we are not carrying equipment for multiple day treks, we chose instead to drive to Shimshal, via the rough jeep track that has only been officially open since 2003.
The track leaves the KKH quite modestly (we drove around for 15 minutes looking for it) and begins with a police check post.
Over the next 55kms we shared various emotions including fear. The track was for many centuries the only way through from India (when this area of Pakistan was still considered Indian) and used by horses, donkeys and the like. During it's preparation for vehicles, it was not widened very much, and many rocky over-hangs threatened to rip our roof tent cover as we wound up and down the valley.
We did catch the top of the tent on some rocks and the force bent the metal hinge on one side. Spectacular views included a massive old black glacier and sheer drops barely 30cm from the wheels that plummeted more than 100m below, and mountains that looked untouched and unreachable by humans. Once we reached our destination, Shimshal, we soon learned that this gorgeous village was home to some of the most experienced and brave mountaineers in the world. Men who had climbed K2 and Nanga Parbat without an oxygen tank, and created the ascents that westerners love to 'conquer'.
An NGO worker was staying at the same guest house as us and explained that she was there to present some donations to the families of men who'd died last year on K2 - they had been setting the lines for tourists. The death of a breadwinner in this society is devastating.
Shimshal is idyllic. Clean, beautiful productive fields, fresh running water, schools, friendly people and unspoilt by western advertising and the like.
Situated in a valley that is still a little off the beaten-backpacker-track, we could have stayed much longer but instead headed back to Karimabad to find out whether we'd been successful with our Iranian visa attempt. We weren't.
Staying only long enough to pick up my new jewels and to enjoy that lovely Hunza green tea, we left the next day to drive back to Gilgit. Here we have extended our Pakistani visas (for free) and fixed the roof tent. There's a nice crowd here at the New Tourist Cottage, and it's been fun watching the Ashes and enjoying the relief from the heat.
