The Karakorum Highway-Islamabad to Gilgit

  Islamabad, Pakistan
Friday, July 1, 2005

Monday 28th June London
Dianne ends up in the National Gallery, where she finishes the diary ready for uploading, then spends over an hour having a quick look at the gallery - the usual suspects - Boticelli, Van Eyck, Titian, Raphael, Holbein, Leonoard da Vinci, Michelangelo, Van Gogh, Cezanne, Monet, Turner, Constable, Gainsborough, Rubens, Vermeer, and a whole room of Rembrandts, to name a few. While doing the diary, sees Murray's notes on where he went to find the internet, which show the nearby "Easyeverything" has USB ports, so put my money in machine (no-one for you to ask questions) to get ticket with password for half an hour (£1), only to find it has Windows 98 operating system, which doesn't have the software we need. Walking up to catch the bus near Charing Cross, heading for place Murray went to, when see another place run by Pakistani's, who say they can download the documents, and send to my computer - at £1 per hour. Half the price, and very helpful into the bargain. Eventually finish, then back home. Now 8pm, and Murray starting to worry I'd got lost. He'd taken over an hour to get to Science Museum, only to spend not much more than that there. When we lived here in 1976-7, he used to visit here for days at a time, so this was more in the way of a nostalgia trip.
Tuesday 29th June London-towards Pakistan
Our plane to Islamabad is not till 6pm, so have an easy morning packing and cleaning the apartment.
Get away about 1pm, as we're using the tube (£3.80 versus more than double that on special train), and we want to allow for any problems (especially as the Tube has had a couple of breakdowns in the last couple of days). The transition to the special bus at Hatton Cross goes smoothly, and there ARE 33 steps in the station. The check-in for our flight is available early, so we sort ourselves out, only to get a hard time from the woman at the check-in, who is looking for an onward flight from China and can't find one. DP offers our itinerary, and she talks to someone higher up the food chain, and it is OK to leave from Hong Kong, but the fact remains, we do not, nor have ever had, a coupon for the flight from Beijing to HONG KONG. The itinerary has the flight, but has "cancelled", where all the others have "confirmed". At the ticketing desk, the woman is helpful, but re-tickets our Islamabad flight too, so we have to have new boarding cards issued, and (as it turns out) lose our baggage stubs in the process. We have to wait 10 minutes for her to do the typing. When we sit down to check the tickets, find she has changed our Sydney flight to a night flight, which we didn't want. She had gone on a break when we got back, so had to wait half an hour till she got back, hoping our original booking hadn't lapsed. Eventually sort it out, and through to customs and wait in lounge with no information but people are boarding with lots of kids and gear. The flight is full, and we have a girl beside us, but no communication the entire trip. We are delayed for nearly an hour, as miss our slot while they offload an enormous amount of luggage from a couple of people who "had decided not to fly" - possibly enticed by the offer made to us - £401 cash each, or travel voucher for £552 each, plus accommodation and meals for two days, and flying out two days later (because of over-booking on flight). Fly over Germany, Vilnius, near Moscow before dark, over the Stans and the Karakoram Mountains, possibly where we will be overlanding. Take photos before the hostess tells the passengers not to. Had planned to get a fair bit of sleep on the 7-hour overnight trip, but got very little due to a variety of circumstances. Firstly, as usual, they served all the "special meals" individually first. Only thing was about 90% of the meals were special, because the passengers were mainly Pakistanis, and had special vegetarian meals. They'd almost finished handing these out, when they made an announcement that the rest of the meals would be delayed for a while as the oven wasn't working. Eventually get meal. Afterwards they start to show the movies, but there is a problem with some of the sound, so muck around trying to fix it. Eventually they decide to start it over again from the beginning, all of which uses up a lot of the seven hours. Eventually they dim the lights, and things quieten down, and we take a sleeping tablet and get a couple of hours sleep.
Wed 30th June Islamabad-Besham (Pakistan)
Fairly rough landing just after 6am. Long taxi, but the passengers are surprisingly well behaved. Through immigration without too much delay, and no hassles, but have a long wait for the baggage, as it is a full flight, with lots of unbelievably heavy baggage which keeps falling off where MP is standing. Starting to worry whether it was our baggage which was taken off, as the boarding pass with the bar code had been changed, but they do turn up. Also worried because no claim checks, but talk our way past the man collecting bag checks. Out into the typical 3rd world melee. Get adopted by some kind of a tout, tells us we won't find a cash machine, takes us to an un-manned looking bank with one man there doing change. No published rate, but change £20 at 108 rupees per pound (about 40 rupees to A$1, which will astound you when you do the calculations - everything here is SO cheap). Hope we aren't too badly conned. We are going to go directly to Rawalpindi bus station, and avoid Islamabad (15 kms apart) altogether.
We're going to travel the Karakoram Highway all the way to Kashgar in China. In this area where the India and Asian continents meet, the Pamir, Kunlun, Hindukush, Karakoram and Great Himalaya ranges are knotted together, and the ground rises higher, over a greater area, than anywhere else in the world, and China, Tajikistan, Afghanistan, Pakistan and India all come within 250 kms of each other. In the 1960's and 1970's Pakistan and China jointly cut a road through these mountains, following a branch of the old Silk Road. This Karakoram Highway (KKH) connects Kashgar with Islamabad, via the 4730 metre Khunjerab Pass, the semi-mythical Hunza valley and the trading post of Gilgit. The pass was opened to travellers in 1986, and we're about to set out on this Karakoram Highway.
At the taxi rank, get charged 400 apparently officially. Seems a lot for what the map shows is 5 to 7 km, but the driver tells us 25. It certainly seems a lot more than seven, first on the expressway, then through heavy traffic on unmade, or under repair roads. Instant culture shock - trishaws, decorated trucks and buses, donkey carts, camels, and the odd new car.
The bus station is a large square with concrete offices and stalls on two sides, and buses lined up in lanes facing them. There are some touring buses, Toyota coasters, and a lot of large local buses, circular in cross section, with curved windows in chromed frames, the whole thing decorated in gold and chrome, full of colourful people, and loaded on top a metre deep with goods, chattels and produce.

Takes a while to walk from the taxi driver's first choice of bus to the Natco stand, and office opposite. Price a ticket to towns on the way to Gilgit (which is a 17-hour bus trip away) with a view to booking it, then going to the Amex office for more rupees. The price is surprisingly low, at 275 rupees each (A$7) to Besham, a 7 hour bus trip, and the departure time is 10 am, so don't have enough time to go to another "chowk" for change, so decide to wing it on our 2160 rupees, but, later, when we are doing the rounds looking for a scarf for DP, and water, we see a man counting a big roll of bills, ask him if he is a money changer. Don't get a straight answer, but get 2600 rupees for £25, makes our total look a lot better. Wait in the cool office till it is getting closer to 10. MP goes out to look, take a few photos,

then back to get the bus number plate written on the ticket. Can see the bus, Toyota Coaster, doesn't look air-conditioned, as shown in the schedule. Bring out bags to put on top, and get under way right on 10 am, in classic style, right over the back left wheel.
Head out through back streets and onto the `main" road - lots of potholes, chaotic traffic, then onto better roads out of town, heading mainly for Peshawar, some concern, but eventually we detour across a wide river bed, beside long bridges, then climb onto higher ground, and on the way North. Did a bit of sleeping on the way, pretty hot, no A/AIR CONDITIONING. Brightened up for a while when we hit the Indus River which was amazing, wide deep, fat, very rough, and full of silt. There were a lot of older suspension bridges, one of which was dragging in the water, and all the centre planks had broken loose on one side. Caused a lot of comment in the bus. As is normal, there was at least one local with enough English to explain the more obvious sights and things like lunch breaks, where the toilets were. DP has a pretty steep learning curve on use of the scarf, and decorum appropriate to Pakistan.
By the time we get to Besham, about 3pm we are tempted to carry on, but are becoming really tired, and also want to travel in the day, firstly to see the scenery, and secondly for safety reasons, so get out in the middle of the town and head north looking for accommodation. Try the Continental Palace, in the fan rooms. Looks OK, but a bit dear at 800, and another hotel sounds more interesting in the guidebook, but it's further away. Were going to look at it first, but we're pretty easy to convince to stay at this stage. The manager, or owner, speaks pretty good English, tells us there is an 8am bus to Gilgit, so we head out to look at the town in good spirits. There is a bank next door, but can't get a visa cash advance, or change travellers cheques - only cash, which we don't have.
The town is pretty basic, typical sub-continent shops, hotels and businesses down each side of a dirty main street. Lots of men standing around, not a woman in sight. DP gets a lot of looks, but no open hostility, so we carry on to the end of town, deciding on the cross road as the best bet for transport, and feeling glad we had not walked all the way to the other hotel. Took photos of the town, donkeys coming down the street,

and the river, standing ankle deep in rubbish at the edge of the cliff for a better photo. Walked up the cross road, which is the road to the Madyan and Upper Swat, for a hundred metres before deciding the area was too filthy, and heading back to the hotel to have two massive meals of chicken and rice, chicken and noodle, plus one soup, for a total of 295 rupees. Enough for 4, ate less than half of it. Hit the sack at about 8.30, and slept log-like for 4 hours, but then woke and Dianne couldn't get back to sleep. Read and mulls over best plan for people with only just over A$100 in local currency, for over 3 hours, ( including hearing the muezzin calling to prayer at 3.20am) then sleeps till the 7am alarm. Just had a sheet over us, with the fan running flat chat.
Thursday 30th June Besham - Gilgit
Up at 7 for a very fast pack, and ask the current manager, not our man from the night before, which way to the 8 am bus. He is a bit short on English, but says up-river, and a long way, so we assume it is the crossroads, and head up the road under the stares of the full town.
No-one knows of a bus, apart from pointing back the way we have come. There is a minibus going to Dasu, about 2 hours further North, but nothing going further. Decide to head back to the hotel and find the man with the good English, under the gaze of the whole town. The same manager is there, seems to have a bit more English, gets us to wait inside, sends a boy to get tickets. "This is the way to do it" we think, but the boy comes back with no luck. Our man now tells us that the buses are all night buses, and we should leapfrog to Gilgit, starting with Dasu. On the way back, get taken by a familiar local youth to a hotel to wait for the bus - think we may have hit paydirt, but turns out this is for the night bus, so head back to the crossroads, to find our previous ride has gone. We mill about, looking lost but hopeful, and a minibus with a big load on top, but few passengers, comes to the "Dasu" parking spot. Says he is going to Dasu, but also tantalizingly mentions Chilas. We say we are starters, and pay our 70 rupees each fare. Get bags on top, settle in to the middle right seat, with no opening window, we later realise, but at least the river is on our side.
We set off surprisingly empty, but not long after, we pick up enough to fill the entire minibus (which means four to each seat instead of the normal three), plus some on the roof. Set off at high speed, but settle down to some pretty reasonable driving, considering the road surface, the trucks on it, the high cliffs one side, and the big drop to the river the other side.

Pass through some interesting small towns, mostly located where there is a bridge over an entering minor river. Lots of street life, shops, workshops, tea shops, but not a woman in sight. Dianne is the only woman on our bus, and keeps well-wrapped with a sarong-like scarf over her head, and wrapped around her shoulders, and sitting against the side of the bus, so not beside any men, other than her husband. We are travelling through Indus Kohistan, which is a very conservative Tribal area. Any photos we take are through the closed windows, so we are not expecting anything special.
We arrive in Komila, the town before Dasu, where a lot of people get out. Touts for some more customers to go to Chilas. Looks for a while like we will be out, but told to hang in, so carry on through Dasu. Stop at a service station like we are going to fill up, but there is another full minibus there. Next thing we know, we have been bought and sold, along with the other Chilas customers, our bags are on the other minibus, and they find two crook seats for us, on the back seat, left-hand side with no opening window, and the wheel hump, and we are off to somewhere north, maybe Chilas, after paying 125 rupees each. Seat turns out to be better than we thought, for soon after we cross the river on a large bridge, so once again the river is on our side. There are two women in this van, completely shrouded in black, with just their eyes showing.
We stopped for lunch at a bridge over a river tumbling out of the hills, with restaurants and tea houses.

The women in the minibus disappeared, and we were beckoned into the new hotel by a man who spoke good English. The hotel was new, and deserted, but they rustled up two enormous chicken rice meals. The chicken was really tough, but probably chicken. Our host was from Hunza and had been a guide there, and the hotel was his first "job". This nicely solved the problem of how to solve the problem of what Dianne should do, as the tea-houses only had men in them - we were the only customers in the "fancy" restaurant, and we could sit in the balcony overlooking the river, in the cool.
DP wanted to find out what had happened to the women, but it was only when they emerged from a small, hot, curtained room at the side of the teahouse, which we thought was toilet, that we worked out where they had been.
During the bus trip the guide book has been useful in reaching the locals. Made friends with some of the inquisitive men on the bus, as we can show them the pictures of Pakistan, and their towns on the maps, which broke the ice. Did the same with a group of young boys at our lunch stop,with one very proud of himself as he sounded out the names of towns below the pictures (very similar to how we felt in Russia when we sounded out the Cyrillic, and realised we recognised the town). Wanted us to take picture, and were excited when they could see it on the viewer.

On a particularly rough section of the road, the overloaded back tire finally gives up the struggle, and we stop in the middle of the road, and all the people from the top, and about half of those inside dismount (but not the women, with the exception of Dianne, who is only too happy to stretch). Took some good photos,

including when one of the very ornate, patterned local trucks came past. There is a problem with the jack, but this is solved by running the axle up onto a large rock, then wedging the jack under. No-one, (including us) like the look of the first tire they put on, definitely a bit flat on the bottom. We like even less the one they took off, which was very worn, especially when you consider the road and the load (the political situation is definitely not the main worry here!). We get in, and there is more action, including another big rock under, and a lot of hammering to break the spare free from under, and unbolting the roof ladder to get the back door open. The spare goes under our seat and we saddle up and away, taking it a bit easier over the broken sections of the bitumen.
We have a stop for prayers (which we appreciate as a good stretch stop). There is a pipe with running water and a small grove of trees. We are going to wet our heads, but a young policeman warns us off it, say it could give you a stroke and you could die. We have done this plenty of times before, but didn't want to insult him, so refrained. (he could also have been right, if local knowledge means anything). We asked him how hot it was, and he said 60 degrees, which we thought was a bit of an exaggeration, but not by too much!
Also two stops to sign ourselves in at the police posts, in two separate books in one place. There are two Koreans registered today.
The scenery is getting more spectacular - start to see snow on the mountains,

getting quite hot - the water in our insulated container is hot enough to make tea.
On the way we see a number of large piles of timber, consisting of enormous squared-off posts, looking quite old. At first we think they must have been used when the road was built, but after questioning, we find that it has timber that has been cut down from the forest, ready to be transported elsewhere. Most of the mountainsides around here don't have a blade of grass on them, and we wonder how long it'll be before the rest of the area looks the same. The only green is some cultivation where smaller rivers run through gorges down to the Indus, and they tap into these for irrigation.

When we get to Chilas, we are pleased to see that we are being taken up to the top of the town, and end up in the bazaar minibus compound. Are surprised to see there is an instant connection to Gilgit, so decide to book in. DP does a long walk in the hot sun to the bank, which can't change anything, not even notes. MP buys two tickets to Gilgit for 230, and hopes DP makes it back before he has to make a stand. Buy cold pepsi, and hot water for emergency (it's been in the sun in the shop). Back in the same seats with some of the same group of people, but not the two women and their men. On the way out of town, we head down in to a narrow winding laneway between the rock walls of the old village. A couple of young boys hop on the back for the hell of it. We find this area very reminiscent of one of the villages when trekking in Nepal. Can't work out why we're doing this trip, particularly when the lane ends in a dead-end and we have to turn round and retrace our steps. Bip our horn as we go along, and all is revealed when a heavily-shrouded woman comes out, and is ushered on by one of the men in the bus.
One of the new boys who ends up sitting next to us has reasonable English, and helps with some of the local information, and reads our guide book.
About an hour out of Chilas, we cross the Indus on the Raikot Bridge. This is where you get the jeep up the hill to Fairy Meadow, which has great views of Nanga Parbat's (8125 metres) north side, and Rakaposhi (7790 metres), and where we intended going if we had any money. As we don't, we have to continue on to Gilgit (another two hours) and return when we have cash.
Half an hour later, at Talechi, we get some great views of the largest number of snowy peaks anywhere on the Karakoram Highway - Rakaposhi (7790 metres), Dobani (6134 metres), Haramosh(7409 metres) and Nanga Parbat (8125 metres). Try to take photos out of window, then surprised to find we stop. Turns out we're at a mosque, and it's prayer time. Desperate for a cold drink, but they only have cold running water, and we're not game to trust it. DP remembers the mango in the pack, so have a quick and messy feed, and take some high res photos of the surrounding mountains, then back in the bus, hot-footing it toward Gilgit to get there before dark. We have branched off the Indus, which swings East, onto the Gilgit river which carries on north, a much smaller river, not as violent, with a wide bench covered in trees, very much like a Canadian river. The valley has opened out, and the road is much faster. We see two 4WD's stopped in the road, and we stop too. People get out, we are told no problem, stay in. It now turns out the reason we have been able to do our relay of minibuses is that the people in the second minibus were travelling all the way to this rendezvous with the jeeps, so they unloaded, and we proceeded with a reduced crew, continuing to shed passengers. DP is worried about getting too isolated, but by the time we get to the Gilgit bus station, there are still about 4 of us in the bus.
We cannot relate the bus station to the map, and are offered a taxi for R60 and decide to take it, which turns out to be a good idea, as the bus station is 3 km off the edge of our map. The taxi takes us through the spread-out upper town, into the typically crowded lower town. Turns off into a narrow, rutted alley, and stops outside a metal door.

Doesn't look all that flash, but inside it is a typical backpackers compound, with tents pitched in the front, an open common area, a lovely garden, and all the services expected by backpackers. There are no rooms with bathroom, but the twin bed room with fan look pretty good at R200. We sit in the common area and do diary, then DP tries to internet, as we want to relay our movements very regularly while we're here, but the computer system is being changed, so settle for one shared large chicken rice soup and large chapati for R85, which hits the spot, with lots of R17 mango drinks, and R20 milk tea to replace all the liquid lost on the road. We must have been pretty dehydrated, as MP didn't need his usual night visit. Talked to travellers gaining information, swapping stories, planning our morning visit to the bank and later, internetting. As is usual with backpacker places, we've lost some of the comforts of life, but have gained so much more. Since leaving Islamabad had not seen a single tourist, and here we suddenly have dozens.
It was pretty hot in the room, particularly when the electricity went off at midnight, just as we're about to sleep, which means the fan goes off as well, but it did come on later.
Friday 1st July Gilgit
Woken by outside noise early, including the 3.20am call to prayer, but sleep through till 9 am. Straight out to look for the bank, walking through the hot, sunny streets, DP trying to keep a low profile while boiling under her scarf.
When we arrive at the bank, we find it ominously quiet, with the main door closed, and a couple of guards holding the fort in the minor door. It turns out that not only is it a Friday which means half a day or less, but it is the first day of the month, so hence a Bank Holiday we're told, despite the sign saying they're open 9am to 12. We retire to the hotel to regroup, then find out from one of the travellers (the reason we like backpackers' places) that the money changer we ignored on the way past does traveller's cheques, so we wind, and scarf ourselves up again, and go and change $US270 at 57 to the dollar, not the best rate, but a great improvement in our financial situation and options.
Back at hotel, have a late breakfast, and relax in the dining area, doing diary, talking to various travellers, and cooling down after the heat of the town. Talk to one of the locals who says that the last eight days or so it has been abnormally hot in Gilgit, and last winter there was an abnormal amount of snow. As a result, the hot weather has melted so much snow that the river level is extremely high, so much so that the road to Shandur Pass, where the annual Chitral versus Gilgit polo match is soon to take place (over 12000 people go for it) has been closed as the water is over the road, causing much consternation to the locals. A group from the hotel is going, and we are half-tempted, but resist.
This explains why the Indus River was so wild. We've never seen a large river anywhere with such a violent flow. There was no sign of any boats on the river at all, which is also very unusual, so even when it's not in flood it must be pretty wild.
Eventually back to room for a shower, rest, washing etc. Out about 4pm for a late lunch/early dinner. When the heat goes out of the sun go out for a walk down to the river, and across the bridge.

Find the amount of security around here a bit off-putting. Earlier in the year there was a riot between the competing Muslim sects, and about 20 people were killed, which might account for the sand bag (well, actually cement bag!) fortifications around the town, with machine guns sticking out. Also see some jeeps go past with a number of soldiers in the back, and a mounted machine gun. Take a few photos of the surrounding mountains (Gilgit is in a valley surrounded by two bare mountain ridges. Beyond the Southern ridge you can see pine trees in the higher mountains further back). A rather nasty little boy throws a stone at us, and we decide to head back to the main road. Buy some cold drinks and take back to the hotel, then out to walk the other way.

However don't go far before we decide to turn back, as we don't like the feel of the street. Unlike yesterday, there are actually some women on the street (but well-covered), but there are very few in comparison with the men. The atmosphere may have something to do with the fact that it is Friday afternoon (the equivalent of our Sunday) and possibly a holiday.

Back at the hotel do some more vegging, then later plan to upload diary to travelpod, but the server is down. Find out that the bank holiday is actually because it is 1st July, the start of the new financial year. Pack our gear for the morning, then to sleep close to 1am.