Coming from China or read our previous visit to Pakistan
23/4/97 A bit of an anticlimax now to be heading back
down after yesterday. Sust to Gilgit. Seeing mountains and glaciers from
a different direction is like seeing them for the first time.
24/4/97 Settled and resting in Gilgit for a couple of days to recover from constant day after day travel is great. Went to see the local polo match played on a field surrounded by stone walls which prevent the puck from leaving the area. Very spirited play.
25/4/97 Another relax day in Gilgit talking with other travellers and a short ride out north of the town. The food here is wonderful. Dried apricots, almonds and pistachio nuts all locally grown, also fried chicken in a tomato and onion sauce with hot fresh naan bread can't be beaten. More meat and not as spicy hot as India. They also have a nice cucumber and curd salad. If I rest much longer, I will be fat.
26/4/97 Two days of rest is all I can handle so it is off to Besham with a diversion to look at the Nanga Parbit massif. It drops 7000m on the north face, in steps, and a sheer 4500m drop to the south east, where no snow sticks. A very impressive mountain. Otherwise a slow meander stopping at villages for rests and to look at their lifestyle.
27/4/97 Besham
to Chakwal via Islamabad. After leaving the desert region of the KKH,
it was a welcome sight , the greenery and pine area down south. A catch up
on who was going where at the Islamabad Tourist Camp and on to Chakwal for
the night. There have been many problems with people obtaining Iranian visas
since the German courts condemned Iranian officials over the murder of Kurdish
leaders in Germany. Also it is unclear what reception tourists may get in
Iran if they get in. People are still travelling to the border but I have
met no-one coming from Iran since the problem developed.
28/4/97 Chakwal to Lahore via the Salt Range. An area of water trapped by the two land masses of Asia and India which subsequently dried leaving enormous deposits of salt. The range itself is quite unspectacular but it's history is fascinating.
29,30/4/97 Two days of relax, sightseeing, clean bike, minor maintenance and getting ready to cross to Iran. Kay is flying back to Australia and I am continuing on to Greece.
1/5/97 Despite
leaving at 11 am, after seeing Kay off, there was no traffic on the road.
May Day holiday. A great advantage as I was travelling the main Lahore - Karachi
road to Multan. A patchy road with some excellent sections of divided highway.
I attempted to stop the night at Khanewal but while there someone threw a
piece of fruit at my motorcycle. It was definitely intentional as the locals
stopped to see my reaction. I left to stay in much more friendly Multan
for the night. It is a shame that one negative action can undo many positive
reactions in a country, making you suspicious and nervous, particularly as
the Lonely Planet refers to southern Pakistan as tribal and lawless
2/5/97 Multan to Rakhini via D. G. Khan. I managed
to buy the worst petrol this trip in D. G. Khan, it must be almost all kerosene
the way the motorcycle is running and my 10 litres purchased somehow became
about 8.5 litres in the tank. After the bad fuel came two flooded creek
crossings. It has been raining in this area for two days. The first was
OK, fast flowing, leaning the motorcycle into it like a tight corner. The
second was fast and deep, 40 cm and hitting the motorbike on
the right side building up deeper. With the exhausts and
air filter under water and me trying to manoeuvre over river rocks, I expected
the bike to stall at any moment but she plodded through even with the shitty
fuel. Then a steady climb up the mountain road, really a single lane half
sealed goat track. It was here I realized the rear tyre was half flat and
leaking air despite the liquid sealant inside. It's no fun on a rough winding
mountain road with no air in the rear tyre. I managed to limp into Rakhini,
30 km, and use the tubeless plugs I had. It was now 6 pm. Again my guide
book calls this section the robbers road, not to be caught out after dark.
An interesting day.
3/5/97 After checking the tyre in the morning, it had gone down slightly and I found two more nails, probably picked up when riding with the tyre under inflated. I hoped with the liquid sealant they would not be a problem. The road to Lorelai was quite good and the hospitality amazing. It is custom to offer tea to strangers and I accepted many offers. One tea place, the owner had a piece of paper from each foreigner spanning back several years, detailing where they were from, how they were travelling etc. I added another paper to the pile. Whilst the tribal people are incredibly hospitable, they all carry rifles and I wouldn't like to cross them or get into an argument.
4/5/97 Ziarat and Quetta on the worst road for a while.
Almost 180 km of dirt but they are currently working on it. The modern nomads
in this area have tractors and large trailers, moving in groups of 12 or
more tractors with everything in the trailers - animals, wives, children,
firewood, house materials, food, etc. They chase the grass for the animals
and cultivate areas if there has been enough rain. Nearer to Ziarat and the
largest Juniper forest in the world and tribes people live in low walled
stone houses with bark roofs. Both groups allowed me to take photos but neither
would let me get within 100m of the women. Nor would the women look in my
direction.
5/5/97 Rest day in Quetta and the rear tyre had gone down, removed one nail and inserted a plug. The rural hospitality extended to the city but inviting someone to tea became a problem. Because I was the guest they must pay. This protocol was so strict that if they did not have the funds they would not have tea despite my profuse offers to pay.
6/5/97 Off to the Iran border, first day to Dalbandin
through some of the most inhospitable country. The wind was blowing and sand
covered most of the road in places. While stopped for a rest next to a waterhole,
I noticed a group of women and girls bringing a herd of donkeys to water.
Not having seen women here in the open before and without men, I was interested
in their reaction to me. But as they approached, a man materialized from
nowhere keeping my attention while some women watered the donkeys and left.
Such is the close watch men in this area keep on their wives and women.
7/5/97 Taftan and the Iranian border. 320 km of excellent
road and there by 11.15 am. For a motorcycle the Quetta - Taftan road is
very good, but being single lane with potholes, it is not so good for the
two motorhomes I met on the way. Petrol is also better, coming now from Iran
and if purchased from 44 gallon drums on the roadside, it is cheaper (10-11
Rupees) as the tax is not paid. The cross wind again ferocious, I guess
about 40 knots, as I could hardly stand and the motorcycle was leaning as
if in a tight corner. The sand stinging my face from the side and I was
wondering how the air filter was coping. Each time a truck passed it would
block the wind and drag me towards the truck, no fun on a single lane road.
Twenty kilometres from the border, the tyre spat the third nail, so much
for the sealant inside the tyre, flat within seconds. Another plug and this
time pumped up by hand with a bicycle
pump I carry, 600 pumps, good for the biceps. Less than
20 minutes and rolling again. Easy border crossing, usual, less than two hours
and only a cursory search of the motorcycle.
Pakistan Summary. Petrol 18-19Rp per litre, good and bad depending on how much kerosene has been mixed. If you have an enricher not a choke it can help the situation by increasing the amount of fuel to air mix. The roads range from very good to non-existent and traffic from steady stream of never ending trucks to no-one. Food was basic but nourishing and the scenery incredibly varied from irrigated farmlands to deserts, desert mountains and snowy peaks. The best part was the people if treated politely they respond politely, are generous, hospitable and because so few tourists the usual over charging and rip offs are rare. The big minus, women are no where to be seen and it is almost impossible to find out by observing anything about their lives. Costs about $A 12 per day for petrol, accommodation and food.
Move with me to Iran or go to our next visit to Pakistan
Story and photos copyright Peter and Kay Forwood, 1996-
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