PAKISTAN: NOT QUITE OVERLAND BUT WHAT AN ADVENTURE!

[jim65wagon]

SO, YOU WANT TO GO TO PAKISTAN?​

This was the question our son-in-law asked us last summer. While I do admit, Pakistan was not on my short list of places to visit, I couldn't say yes fast enough. I love to travel, to see new places, it's exciting and this time we would be sharing the experience with our daughter and her husband. Pakistan may not seem like an obvious choice for one to visit at random, but this visit wasn't really at random. Our son-in-law, Umar, was born in Islamabad, and over 12 years ago, said goodbye to his family to seek his education and fortune in the United States. Of course he has kept up with them through facetime, and they did visit once for Thanksgiving and once for their wedding. Over those 12 years he met, dated, and then married our daughter, received his PhD in Electrical Engineering specializing in antennae (otherwise known as the magic science), camped with us in the wilds of the Virginia and West Virginia mountains, and tasted the delights of venison, biscuits and gravy, and chicken and dumplings. Then he loaded up his GX470 with their belongings and towed a U-haul to California, where he would begin his career as an antenna designer for a drone company. He had to move to California because our daughter had moved out to Stanford to study for her own PhD in Neuro-Biomedical Engineering and we couldn't let her be alone all that time.

So, when Umar asked us if we wanted to go to Pakistan, it wasn't just for fun. He wanted to visit his family, but he really wanted us to see where he grew up and to show us the beauty of his homeland as we had shown him some of the beauty of ours. Of course there was no way we could disappoint our new found son by saying no, and like I said, I love to travel, I love an adventure. I'm ready, Elizabeth is ready, Let's go!

THE PLAN​

Upon hearing the emphatic Yes from us, Umar got right into the planning, and stated that he would take care of the itinerary, booking the lodging, the vehicles and sourcing the airline tickets. All we had to do was give some input on those items and provide the money for our share of all that. No problem, we would just spend a couple of extra months working so we could save up the travel funds. That is one of the benefits of full-time travel, with no house payment and no car payment it makes it fairly easy to save some extra money to go have fun.

Fast forward to about January of 2024 now. Beth and I have saved up the money for our portion of the trip and we were currently finishing up an amazing trip through Baja California (The CrowsWing Finally Lands in Baja). We would be meeting Umar's family (his Mom, Brother, Sister, her husband, and their two children) in Islamabad and they would be joining us for the entire trip, along with his two best friends from college, Mike and Eric. All in all that's a total of 12 people who would now be traveling around Pakistan together. That's quite a crowd to wrangle up!

Soon we all received this email from Umar:
"If you are receiving this, Congratulations! You have been selected to travel (at your own will) to the under-rated country of Pakistan!
Gorgeous terrain, mouth watering food and a new culture await your explorer's spirit!"

What followed was a very precise google document laying out a very detailed itinerary, necessities of travel to Pakistan (how to get a visa online, which vaccinations to get, a budget for buying foods and souvenirs, how to get an e-sim for your phone, etc) and a potential travel route. The trip was to take place the last week of May and ending the second week of June, nearly three weeks worth of the sights and sounds and food of Pakistan.



So many people were coming along for the trip, most of whom have not gone camping ever in their lives, meant that this trip was not going to be an overland style camping trip. We'd be lucky to get in a good hike or two by the end of it. (so, if you're here for a truly overland adventure, you're going to be disappointed; if you're here for a decent story of a trip to a new and less visited country, stick around) Over the next few months, through a large group chat and a few zoom call sessions, we all hammered out the details of the trip. In the end, along the way we'd be staying at (variously) an AirBnB, a Glamping Yurt, a Geodesic Dome, a couple of hotels and one fancy resort. The mode of transportation to haul 12 people and their luggage? A 20 passenger bus piloted by a driver with nerves of steel.

As the months progressed Elizabeth and I worked a short stint in Texas (February and March) and during this time we filled out the forms on the PakVisa website to acquire the much needed E-Visa. Things we needed for the Visa included: photocopies of our Drivers Licenses and Passports, photos of each of us, a statement confirming that we would not be visiting Kashmir or Azad Jammu, proof that we were US citizens with employment, the Citizen Number of the person we'd be visiting in Pakistan and an invitation letter from that same person. Umar's Mother provided the last two bits of information to complete our applications. After all the forms were filled out, turned in and $60 sent for processing fees, it was only a matter of hours before each of us received a confirmation email with our approved (for 45 days) E-Visa attached. It is my understanding that US citizens can get a “Drop-In” Visa when they just show up at the border, but we had the time and it was really easy to get the Visa online.

After receiving the Visa confirmation, Beth and I killed the rest of our time awaiting the trip by visiting:
Indiana (for the solar eclipse),


Tennessee (for camping and hiking with our friends Jay and Debbie),


Pennsylvania (visiting Beth's family), Virginia (visiting our son), and
North Carolina (visiting Jay and Debbie while fixing Jays Flippac camper that had delamination issues, and a few days camping on Cape Lookout National Seashore).






While we were in North Carolina we took the time to get our travel vaccinations. There was a long list of vaccinations recommended, we managed to get four of them. Walgreens provided us with the Covid 19, T-dap, Pneumonia and the Hepatitis A&B combination vaccines.

By this time it was the middle of May and we were ten days away from our trip. It was time once again to move on, we were scheduled to stay and visit with more friends (paddling the rivers and visiting wineries) in Fredericksburg Virginia.




They had graciously offered to not only let us stay on their property, but we were able to leave both our truck and the teardrop in their driveway and they would drop us off at the airport and pick us up the night we got back! It's good to have good friends!

Those 10 days went by in a whirlwind (not unlike the whirlwind tour of the east we'd experienced since we'd left Texas in April). The day before our flight we did laundry and packed our bags. We knew we'd be in a wide range of weather conditions so we packed warm weather clothes, cold weather clothes, down jackets, hats, sandals, and hiking boots. Neither of us packed shorts –- Pakistan is a conservative country and we did not want to cause any anti-American reactions as best we could. Along with phone charging cords and bricks, our camera, sunglasses, kindles and downloading videos and books to keep us entertained on the flights.

 

[jim65wagon]

Saturday May 25th seemed like it took forever to get here! After nearly a year of planning (thank you Umar for doing such a fine job helping us prepare!) the day finally arrived for us to fly! The day itself dragged on for what felt like a couple more days. Our plane was scheduled to depart Dulles International Airport at 10:25 PM. Our friends drove us up and with hugs and well wishes dropped us off at the door with plenty of time. We're old Gen-Xers and we much prefer to arrive well in advance of our departure, which gives us plenty of time to check-in, get through the TSA screenings, find our gate, and people watch – the best way to kill time at an airport.


We were early enough to the Turkish Airlines check-in counter that they hadn't even started the bag check process yet. With only a dozen people in front of us we patiently waited as the crew opened up for business and started checking bags. Our turn came up and we weighed our bags. Beth's carry-on was 2 kilograms overweight, so we quickly opened our cases on the floor and shuffled a couple of items into one of our checked bags. With that done our checked bags were tagged and rolled away by a young man. The lady at the counter gave us our plane tickets for the first leg of our journey (Dulles to Istanbul) but apologized that she could not print the tickets for the second leg (Istanbul to Islamabad) as that was a flight with PIA (Pakistan International)

As we were walking out of the line, we bumped into Umar's friend Mike (he lives in Richmond). We told him we'd wait for him after the TSA check so we could all wait for take-off together. This TSA was the easiest time I've ever had getting through! Take off your shoes, empty your pockets, bags on the conveyor and you're ready. A quick walk through the body scanner, boom done! The last time we went through a TSA check it was a jumbled nightmare of people yelling over the din of the crowd about shoes, belts, electronics, liquids, etc. Just a loud mass chaos that made for an unpleasant experience.

We stood out of the way, waiting on Mike while watching an older couple get stopped for the lady's bag. They searched through and found her stash of drugs, no really, they pulled out a gallon ziploc bag full of pill bottles. Every Octogenarian has drugs you know. They did not hassle her about it at least, just looked them over and put them back in the case. We walked away and went off in search of our gate. We found it easily enough, I went off in search of dinner while Beth and Mike watched our bags. I managed to find some chicken sandwiches and soft drinks at the usual elevated airport pricing margin.

At 10PM our plane finally started boarding, the line shuffling began. We eventually made it to our seats listening to the rain and thunder, and watching the lightning. The weather delayed our take-off by 20 minutes or so but eventually we were up in the air being buffeted around by the same storm system. We crossed the Atlantic Ocean in the dark (which kinda bummed me out because I had the window seat and I like to watch things as we fly over) at least we got served a meal (my first in flight food that wasn't snack food!) a piece of salmon, a dinner roll, and potatoes along with something weird that I didn't like the taste of. OOOH! And they served red wine! We getting' fawncee now!





We landed at Istanbul almost 11 hours later and departed the plane at Gate D8, nearer to the end of the complex. We immediately started looking for a map. None of us had the faintest idea which direction we should be going (we had no plane tickets at this point, so we had no idea where our next gate would be – the airport displays read “TBA 18:10”) so Beth picked going right towards a big blaze of white light. We walked the people mover walkways, speeding along at a goodly clip. Eventually the white light manifested itself into the reality of being a duty free shop. We found the alcohol! Further down the complex, past the duty free shop we finally found a map of the Istanbul Airport – it was huge! We pointed along the map at all the gates. We are here! At this end.....what are the chances our gate is going to be here? I asked as I pointed to the furtherest gate. We all laughed and decided our next step was to figure out where the PIA gates were, they seemed to not be listed on the big map.

We all three pulled out our phones, Beth and I found out our Saily E-Sims that we had purchased for Istanbul the day before worked beautifully and we had decently fast internet. Somewhere in our search I found a list of flights for the day and PIA was listed.....at THAT gate! Yes! THAT GATE! The furtherestest gate from our current location! Gate A1A, here we come! We grabbed our bags and started moving, we'd have plenty of time as long as things didn't go awry. What could go wrong from here? We buzzed along on the people movers for what seemed like miles, hoofing it up some stairs and noting a loungey area along the upper level and then down into the chaos of the shops area. Istanbul Airport has more shops than the town I grew up in I think, with many of them being American: Shake Shack, Wendy's, Carl's Jr, Pizza Hut, McDonalds, Popeyes etc. Food, clothes, candies, confections, drinks, electronics, legos, you name it there was a store for it.

After quite a long walk we finally arrived at the gate my internet search told us PIA was located. There was a man at the desk so I rolled up and asked him if he could help me. He said he could, so I explained the gate situation and where we were flying to. He picked up his little handheld computer and after a couple seconds of tippy tapping he said:

"Your gate is D 12. It is a couple hours before your flight leaves, so that may change, but it is green on my screen so that is your gate.”

I thanked him and relayed the message to Elizabeth and Mike. We all burst out in raucous laughter. You've guessed it, I'm sure. Gate D 12 is right back where we started! We landed at gate D 8, so actually three gates beyond where we started. We took off back up the stairs, Beth and I singing “Back Where We Started! Here we go round again!” from the Kinks, while the people we passed looked on at the loud Americans.

Since we knew our gate number we could relax a bit, so we stopped at one of the shops for lunch and wandered through the stores. Mike had a difficult time getting out of the Lego store without buying a very large lego set, but he eventually succumbed to reason and he let go the legos. We each took a lounge chair in the upper deck lounge, reclined, stretched out our legs and got our packs off our backs. What a relief! In what seemed like no time (maybe because I dozed just a little) we had to get back on our feet and finish our journey to D 12.

 

[jim65wagon]

Once there we paused in the waiting area, we still had no tickets at this point, just a reservation confirmation. Beth walked up to the man behind the desk, showed him the reservation she had on her phone and he said, “No Problem” He seemed quite dismissive, and we thought it was maybe because she was a woman. He might have a different attitude with a man so Mike walked up to the man at the desk and inquired about the tickets, showing him the reservation on his phone. The man looked at that and just said
“No problem, is ok”
We took that to mean there was no problem so we waited another half an hour for boarding to begin. As soon as they pulled the velvet rope everyone got up to get in line to board the plane. We were a little ways back in the line, but we could hear a couple speaking English in a heavy accent to one of the men at the boarding desk. The same man that said “No problem” It seemed their reservation ticket was not a boarding ticket and it was a problem. They were directed to another desk with a young lady waiting to make the problem go away. By this time we were to the front of the line, several more people had been directed to the young lady for assistance. We knew that's where we were heading but we figured at this stage we might as well irritate the No Problem Man too. We showed him our reservation tickets and he, in an exasperated motion directed us to the young lady. We heard a quiet argument between him and another gentleman that resulted in No Problem Man walking into the crowd, rearranging velvet ropes, shouting something in a language I couldn't understand, then in English repeated:

“If you do not have a boarding pass, or only have a reservation please use this line over here!”

As we were already near the front of the line we watched as quite a large number of people shifted from the boarding pass line to the reservations line. They were not amused. The young lady at the desk was not amused either and indicated that this was not her function and the men could do this also to speed things along but wouldn't. We smiled and commiserated with her plight, she smiled, typed in the information from our phones and said that she would seat us together. By that she meant Elizabeth and I, Mike was on his own. She printed out the tickets, Beth and I got two seats near the front of the plane, Mike was all the way in the back. We all walked down the ramp and boarded the plane for Islamabad.

The flight itself wasn't bad. The plane was a little older and looked a little on the shabby side, but we weren't flying first class either. We flew through the night, a six hour flight time. We were the only three Americans on the flight. Mike was seated among a group of Pakistani who were genuinely interested in his trip, where he was from, why he was going, etc. Beth and I talked to each other, the lady sitting beside her was in no mood for conversation. We were seated amongst a large and very conservative family. They, while polite enough to not actually say anything, kept giving us the stank-eye like we were a bad rash or something. They'd give us a side long look with that expression that said “Nope, Still there...”


We landed in Islamabad and deboarded the plane, following the crowd of people heading to the Passport/Visa check line to enter the country. As we walked along a man in black approached me, moving very fast. Without saying a word he pulled his hand out of his pocket (my brain was firing off: What the hell! Dude! Is that a gun? Am I being kidnapped on my first day already?!!) he flipped a phone up in my face. There on his screen was a picture of myself and Elizabeth. Recognizing myself, I let out a laugh, he smiled and uttered the words “Follow me” and took off through the crowd. *side note: I knew Umar's Mother had hired a handler to aid us at the airport, what I was expecting was a gentleman calmly holding a sign over his head with my name on it...) He passed through the line of people getting their passports checked, and talked to the guard at the head of the line. The guard looked at us three Americans and motioned for us to pass through. We followed this strange man in a strange land right up to a booth. I was tired and nervous but I swear the booth was labeled as the Diplomatic Check, or something to that effect. The man behind the booth had a short conversation with our handler and asked us for passports, visas, and to stand in front of a camera. We all did, each in turn, and as we did so he stamped our passports. We were in Pakistan!

 

[jim65wagon]

Our handler led us on through the crowd, through another security checkpoint where they scanned our backpacks. As we headed to baggage claim, Madeline and Umar, along with Umar's entire family appeared out of the crowd. With hugs and laughter all around we greeted our family. Umar's mom asked us about the treatment we received from the handler she hired to expedite our entry. We agreed it was the best way to enter a country, otherwise we would still be in a loooong line of people. What could have been hours of waiting was done in minutes. We collected our luggage and after going through another bag scanner and metal detector we were out of the airport, all of us climbing into three vans they rented to get us to Umar's mother's house.

ISLAMABAD​

We got our first taste of Pakistani traffic as the day was dawning. It was the morning of the 27th, and we'd lost a good 2 days (we left on the 25th) from the time zone changes during our flights. The vans weaved quickly in and out of traffic, horns were blaring and honking literally from every car on the road. Pakistani honk for everything. “I'm behind you and you're too slow” HONK! “I'm passing you on the left” HONK! “I'm passing you on the right” HONK! “I'm changing lanes” HONK!




It took a good hour of spirited driving to get us from the Islamabad airport to the house. We waited until Umar received word that the AirBnB he had rented for Elizabet, Mike, Eric and I was ready. We all loaded into a single larger van (this would be “our” van and driver for our time in Islamabad) and drove over to the AirBnB. Once we arrived we were introduced to the two young servants that came with the house. They spoke no English and we spoke no Urdu. Umar and Madeline were going to stay at Umar's Mom's house, so it was just Americans in the AirBnB. It was decided by our native family that the servants would simply stay in their quarters (on the roof) and leave us the living area to ourselves. We could all cook and clean, and we're not used to a servant culture anyway. We each picked our bedrooms, Mike and Eric chose the two downstairs (with AC) Elizabeth and I chose the upstairs bedroom with the balcony on the side. We hauled our suitcases upstairs and unpacked. The house was beautiful but echoed with every step. Every surface was a gorgeous granite or travertine, but there was little in the way of sound absorbing wall hangings. There was a kitchen on the main floor and a kitchen on the second floor. Above that was an open roof living area and a small block room that served as the servants quarters. It certainly felt un-lived in. Beth and I took a nap on our new bed, the morning air was cool but after an hour or so it got too hot to rest comfortably. We had turned on the AC unit that was installed in the living room/kitchen area when we had arrived, but it was soon apparent that there was no way it was going to be able to cool even the living room, let alone our bedroom too. We called Umar and let him know what was up with the AC, and he got on the phone to the owner complaining about the comfort level of the place. In very short order Ali (Umar's brother) arrived to pick us up so we could spend the rest of the afternoon in air conditioning at their mom's house. The owner of the AirBnB quickly hired a crew to install AC into our bedroom. What they ended up doing was removing the AC unit from the kitchen and installed it in the bedroom. The kitchen would be blazing hot throughout our stay but at least the bedroom was livable now.









Once At Iffat's house we settled down, and Ali produced a bag of Pakistani Rupees that we had ordered. The exchange rate was an insane 279.5 rupees per dollar. The money we exchanged was in 500 rupee increments so we literally had fat stacks of cash.

Beth and I were exhausted to the point of needing another short nap after that. As the afternoon progressed we all took turns playing Mortal Kombat with the kids, Hadiqa and Sabrina. By evening Iffat (Umar's mom) and Beenish (Umar's sister) had cooked up a meal of fishes, chicken, rice and fries (yes, french fries) that was delicious. Quite warmly spicy by our standards but very tasty. With a good helping of ice cream for dessert we finished our first day in Pakistan exhausted but ready for adventures to come!

 

[WOODY2]

Quite an adventure already. Looking forward to the balance. Thanks

 

[jim65wagon]

We were driven back to the AirBnB and Beth and I quickly fell asleep in the comfort of our newly air conditioned room. In the morning she and I woke up quite early, us still being on US time and all. I went downstairs to make coffee so we could sit on our balcony and enjoy the morning bird show as the sun came up. I got out the cups, the coffee and sugar. I had to scrounge to find a pot to heat water in, and the only one I found was a huge pot. I went to light the gas on the stove, nothing. No hiss, no gas, no flame. No problem, I thought, I'll just heat water in the microwave. I filled our coffee cups with water, put in a scoop of coffee (all we can find is instant coffee ala Nescafe), into the magic box they go and nothing.....there's no power to the microwave! Thoroughly frustrated now, I dump the cold coffee water and head back upstairs. Elizabeth mixed up a couple of ice tea packets from our “Plane Snackage” in our backpacks and we sat on the balcony drinking cold tea for breakfast. Yeah, I coulda walked up to the roof, knocked on the door to wake the servants, pantomimed making coffee, one of them could've turned the gas on, come down to the kitchen, heated up the water and brought us tea or coffee. But that seemed like a lot of additional steps just for a cup of coffee. Having servants is weird.


Our first real morning of visiting Pakistan didn't start out so well, but it soon got better. All twelve of us loaded into the van and headed out for our first tour.


Driving through traffic in the middle of the day was even more experiential than the early morning traffic. More cars, more trucks, more teeny tiny vans (their version of taxis), and a bazillion red Honda motorcycles (the vehicle of choice for most Pakistanis and they'll seat up to four if everyone has good balance) meant an equivalent increase in swerving and veering in and out of said traffic. It also seemingly resulted in an exponential increase in horn honking – it sounded like every vehicle on the road was honking at someone.


There was an exorbitant number of tiny Suzuki Swifts driving around, as well as various farm machinery and the occasional wagon pulled by cows, mules or horses. At one point we came to a busy intersection and it was essentially traffic going four ways at once with the vehicles just weaving in and out of each other, honking their horns to alert drivers of their intentions. It look like a vehicular ballet and I tried to imagine such a scene playing out in the US without having people get upset, yell, curse and throw hands. I couldn't picture it, and I've got a pretty good imagination, but all I could conjure were various road rage scenarios.

One of the more unique sights in traffic, barring the motorcycle balancing acts was the awesomeness of the work trucks. All of the big box trucks for hauling stuff were painted with intricate designs and lavishly adorned with trinkets, beads and other accouterments. They were striking to look at and I found myself wishing more Americans would embrace the idea of making their vehicles into rolling art pieces.


Our first stop of the day was Umar's childhood school. The school itself was a campus of several large buildings attended by all ages of students up to grade 13. Umar gave us the run down on the daily activities of the students as we watched the kids wearing their school uniforms go between buildings. We were not allowed to enter any of them as the students were in the middle of their testing weeks to see if they move on to their next grade.

After the short visit to younger Umar's education we all piled back into the van and headed over to the Lok Virsa Historical Village and Museum. We all paused outside the museum to watch a potter throwing clay on a foot powered pottery wheel. He was friendly and let the children make a couple of pots while he spun the wheel for them. They enjoyed getting their hands dirty, but I don't see any of them becoming potters in the future.








The museum was an impressive display of the culture and heritage of the region dating back to ancient times. I was impressed with pottery pieces that had the thinnest walls of any hand made pot I've ever seen. The skill to turn such a thin wall is quite impressive.


There were life sized dioramas that taught the histories of the various peoples of the area, and dioramas of representing the ancient stories passed down from generation to generation. There was a large display with an example of the colorful work trucks. Lots and lots of the cool old artifacts found from the previous civilizations that ruled the land. There were displays of musical instruments (but, oddly enough in my mind, no music playing), and displays of the intricate woodwork that adorns their homes, businesses and places of worship. Did I mention the furniture? There were whole rooms of various styles of furniture over the centuries, the construction of which I found absolutely fascinating. I really enjoy seeing how things are put together. One room was full of hard bottomed, hard backed very square chairs, love seats and couches, save for one piece. It was old, I don't remember the date it's from (because I'm old) but it was older than me. It had a padded leather seat and back and the most intricate little handle that turned it into a multistage recliner! It looked so comfortable! I could imagine someone coming home from a long day and relaxing in that recliner while all the other people in the house stared death rays at him from their hard, uncomfortable chairs....




As with all museums there were gift shops, not one but many small shops to go through to find that just right unique, hand made gift. We found a cute little papier mache' lamp to gift to one of our friends. The tricksy bit would be getting it home without crushing it on the plane.

 

[jim65wagon]

 

[jim65wagon]

From Lok Virsa we were driven the short distance to the Pakistan Monument and Museum. The Monument is a huge multi paneled display symbolizing the unity of the Pakistani people and dedicated to the people who sacrificed their today for a better tomorrow. The four large petals represent the four main cultures of Pakistan: Punjabi, Baloch, Sindhi, and Pakhtun. While the three smaller petals represent the minorities of Azad, Kashmir, and Gilgit-Baltistan. It's a beautiful display and a sight to behold. At the accompanying museum, we got our first taste of the tourist tax - we were charged about ten times more money for the entrance fee than the citizens and we were not allowed to take photographs, which irked Rizwan as we watched other people pulling out their phones and taking photos. Much of the wax museum is dedicated to Muhammed al Jinnah, the man who advocated for Hindu-Muslim unity and fought for the political rights of Muslims in India. In the 1940s he was the key in forming the Pakistani state and the cornerstone to Pakistan gaining its independence from the United Kingdom in 1947 and becoming a country of it's own.








By this time it was 2 or maybe 3 in the afternoon and time for lunch. Time for lunch? Yep. It seems with everyone sleeping in late and getting a late start for the museum tour pushed lunch back too. The restaurant we dined at was a posh place, called Cafe Aylanto, with some pretty good food. Beth got a good version of a smash burger and I had the Assorted Sliders dish which consisted of a beef, chicken, and fish sliders all nearly the size of Elizabeth's burger. They were all very tasty and I managed to pawn off a good chunk of each slider so that I could enjoy the very delicious french fries heaped alongside them. I was stuffed by the time we were done, and it was back on the bus for all of us.




By the time we got back into Islamabad proper it was evening, the temperatures were still quite high, having reached about 106 degrees Fahrenheit. To Beth's and I's benefit it was only about 15% humidity so it wasn't like it was a Texas heat. We did, however, wear long pants every day, and that was a little uncomfortable. Beth, because it's a modest culture and I in solidarity of my wife. I was told that I could wear shorts as a foreign man and not cause a fuss, Elizabeth could not, even the tops she wore had to be long enough to go below her butt. We complied of course, as we wanted to be good representatives of our country and we certainly did not want to embarrass our family.

We stopped in some of the shops in Islamabad, Beth searched for shawls while Mike, Eric, and Umar got fitted for some custom tailored suits. They had a great time picking out materials for said suits. Them spying fabrics folded in the shelves, the proprietors pulling the fabric, proudly displaying the quality and feel only to throw it over their shoulders in a heap when it was rejected. The mounds of fabric in the shop as they sorted through grew and grew until the three young men were satisfied with their choices. In just a few days they'd have handmade suits to wear to all those special occasions that young men find themselves in.

 

[Ozarker]

Great thread! Thank you....

 

[jim65wagon]

Dinner, of course, was late in the day (for me, I'm used to having a 6 or 7 PM dinner). We left Islamabad proper at roughly 9PM (I really wasn't keeping track of the time, though – but that doesn't mean my body wasn't feeling the time difference) and the van driver took us out to the Margalla Hills and then up an extremely narrow and very twisty steep, steep hill. The Pir Sohawa Rd, while paved, is about as twisty and steep as any road you could find in West Virginia. At about a lane and a half wide it made for some interesting driving as cars that were going downhill passed us while cars going uphill were trying to do the same, all the while honking their horns at each other. We twisted and turned, the driver gunning the engine for what seemed like an hour. Eventually we came out to the top of the hill and the plaza where the Monal Islamabad was located.






The 12 of us were directed to our hugely long table set with chairs along one side, and half the other side. Elizabeth and I were directed to the couch near the head of the table. A big comfy couch with lots of pillows and a relaxing sit to it. Our Pakistani family took the honors of ordering food for us asking if it was okay if we ate “family style” We, of course, had no problem with that since that's the way our families tend to eat anyway. A shared experience, everyone tasting and enjoying (or not) certain dishes leads to great conversations (mostly pertaining to food, of course)


While we waited on our meal, Beth and I stepped over to the railing that looked out over Islamabad down in the valley far below us. The lights from a million homes twinkled in the distance like stars grounded from the sky. Up the stairs from the deck our table was on there was a musical duo playing traditional instruments and singing some very beautiful songs. We couldn't understand the lyrics, so Umar gave us a brief translation of the love story being sung about. The man singing had a lovely voice that matched well with the heartfelt lyrics.


Soon our multi-course, multi dish meal was being served. We dined like royalty! Cheese Naan (can't go wrong there!), parathas and hummus with pitas were alongside big steaming bowls of Mutton Handi (Handi is the pot the meat is cooked in – and the meat is marinated, tender and slow cooked in a spicy gravy), Peshawari Chicken Kahari (another deliciously spicy dish, this time with tomatoes cooked in for an added color/taste bonus), Chicken Bahari Boti (grilled chicken skewers), mutton kebab (unlike in the United States a Pakistani kebab is patty shaped or sausage shaped, these were patties), Beef Seekh Kebab (sausage shaped) and a bowl of Paleek Paneer, which is an Indian Cottage Cheese in a spicy Spinach Gravy.




The foods were all delightful, and even though my mouth had a constant tingly fire feeling in it I enjoyed myself immensely. I especially liked the Mutton Handi, while Elizabeth preferred the Peshawari Chicken Kahari.

For dessert we tried the Gulab Jamun (which translates to Rose Berry), a golden fried ball of sweetened milk solids with a texture not unlike doughnuts. A tasty treat for sure! Some of our native family had a Kulfi Falooda (a rose and vanilla ice cream milkshake like drink), they refused to let the American contingent of our group try it as they were afraid the raw milk in it would shock our stomachs too much.

As the desserts disappeared, we all in happy agreement asked our server for the check. We were all prepared to split the bill evenly. Waiters cleared our plates, asking us if we had enjoyed our meal. We all chorused a hearty Yes! Very Much! Umar collected the bill and gave us the damages. The bill came to the ungodly sum of 23,500 Pakistani rupees. This is dining with the rich in Pakistan. We ate a multi-course meal feeding 10 adults and 2 children for the whopping sum of 84 US dollars! In America I am not poor, but I am in no way considered more than lower middle class, in Pakistan I feel like a rich man, dining at the finest restaurants!

After we all settled our tab with Umar he turned to us Americans and said,

“There is a special apertif here. It's very unique, very cultural. You may enjoy it or you may hate it. Are you willing to try it?”

Madeline, Mike, Eric and I all agreed. We walked up the stairs toward the exit and there was a man behind a little food cart. We watched as the attendant was mixing something up, placed his concoction in the center of a leaf, then rolled it up. He picked up the small bundle and the man waiting for his treat opened his mouth. The attendant shoved the entire little bundle into his mouth and the man happily began chewing. Umar talked to the attendant after that little show, then explained to us,

“That is the traditional way the Paan Betel Nut is served. He says if that is upsetting to you he can hand it to you”

If you know your history the Paan Betel Nut is the treat in Southeast Asia that is highly addictive, and chewed for both it's stimulant and it's narcotic effect.

We all agreed to have our serving handed to us. Umar received his and chucked the bundle into his mouth and began chewing. Upon seeing the attendant chop up the nut and sprinkle some unknown spices, Madeline and Mike decided they were not hungry enough for a whole one. They were going to split one despite Umar's protests that it must be eaten whole to get the gamut of flavors involved. They persisted and while the attendant was preparing mine, Madeline took a bite, halving the portion, Mike taking the other. She was happy her bite was sweet tasting and pleasant (excepting texture of the leaf it was wrapped in). Mike, on the other hand was not happy, his portion was crunchy and bitter. My serving came along and I dutifully popped the whole thing in my mouth. The texture of the leaf contrasted heavily with the soft texture of the chopped nut. I don't know what spices were involved but it reminded me of the sweet crunchiness of candy sprinkles, and a bright sharp citrusy flavor. It was a unique experience, and I felt only the texture of the leaf was the downfall for me. The flavor profile was so varied it was kind of like what I imagined it would be like eating an everlasting gobstopper.





This is me, saying "It's good, but the leaf is weird"


We wound our way back down the twisty road, back into Islamabad, the driver dropping four of us off at the AirBnb. Umar had to call the servants to come down and unlock the gate and the front door to the house. I thanked the young man in English, he put his hand over his heart and motioned it toward us in a way that obviously meant “Your welcome” or maybe it was a “Thank You” in return. And that was that, can you believe it! We've ended Day One in Pakistan already! Whew! We were more than a little tired so Beth and I said goodnight to Mike and Eric and stumbled up the stairs and into our bed. Betel Juice stimulating my system or not I fell quickly to sleep.

 

[jim65wagon]

At this point, if you're bored of reading, I'll leave this link for the video Elizabeth has edited. This covers the timeline from our flight over to our dinner at the Monal. Enjoy!

 

[alanymarce]

Thank you for sharing - great posts!

We'll be there in July/August next year : )

 

[jim65wagon]

Stay tuned! There's plenty more to come. Umar was right, Pakistan is a very under rated country! You will enjoy it!

 

[jim65wagon]

The next morning, the gas was still on! I was able to light the stove and heat water for coffee! Oh, Happy Day! While I was at it made some Parathas with fried eggs for breakfast. They were quite delish! Then Beth and I did a load of laundry. This is where I need to tell you about bathrooms in Pakistan. Ours, like all the others in this house (and all housing according to Umar) is a giant wet bath. The shower is in the back half of the room and open. The floor has a drain of course, but the entire bathroom has the potential for being a splash zone. It's actually not a bad arrangement, much like an RV bathroom but on a larger scale. The water heater was turned off for the summer since the daily temperatures keep the water in the pipes quite warm enough – not scalding hot but it's not cool either. In our bathroom is the clothes washer. It's 220 volt plug was high up on the wall to minimize water splashing into the electricals. The drain hose just rested on the floor pointing towards the shower drain. As the washer cycled through it's settings the water ran behind the toilet and on to the shower drain. (oh, yeah, there's a handheld bidet sprayer and let me tell you, bidets are awesome!). When our clothes were finished washing we had to scrounge through the other bedrooms in the house and found a few clothes hangers. We hung what we could and draped the rest over railings, on doors and on chairs. At 10% humidity it did not take long to dry our clothes.



In the afternoon we all went to the Taxila Museum and Taxila UNESCO World Heritage site. Taxila Museum has a very comprehensive collection of Ghandaran Art dating between 1 and 7 CE. There are 4000-6000 objects dating from 600 BCE to 500 CE representing Buddhist, Hindu and Jain religions. The museum was closed for “lunch” when we arrived. After waiting a few minutes we found out that it wasn't lunch that closed the museum, it was the arrival of a delegation of Buddhists from Nepal. The police officers that arrived ahead of the motorcade told us that they had the museum closed for the safety of the Buddhists.

While we waited for the museum to open we took the guided tour of the Dharmarajika Stupa. Also referred to as the Great Stupa of Taxila, the Dharmarajika Stupa was built over relics of the Buddha in the 3rd century. This Stupa is part of a large monastic complex forming the Ruins of Taxila that became a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1980. We walked along listening to the guide describe the complex as it would have been seen “back in the day”. I marveled at the construction of the walls, the intricate carvings of the Buddha, and the giant feet left over from a long “disappeared” statue of the Buddha.










Part of the tour took us walking atop the walls of what was once the classrooms. Standing on a wall that is over 2000 years old left quite an impression in my brain. In one of the classrooms, our guide fished out some coins from his pocket. He let us each hold them then proceeded to tell us that they were found in the surrounding fields by farmers. Then he says for the small fee of 16-20,000 rupees would could take the coins home with us. I looked at Beth and raised my eyebrows. We looked over the coins as they came around to us. They looked newly minted and rubbed with vinegar and dirt. We declined his offer of buying the coins. As we walked back to the van we talked about the look of the coins and the potential validity of his statement. In our minds we were pretty sure that anything found at a World Heritage site shouldn't be sold – that's if the coins were real.

 

[jim65wagon]

As we toured the grounds, Madeline was feeling less and less well. She and a few of our family sat in the shade of a huge Banyan tree and rested. We thought it was just the heat getting to her, as she's been living in an area of California that has extremely moderate temperatures.


After the tour of the grounds we re-visted the museum, and walked around gawking at the pottery, statues, busts and other finds they had dug up over the years. Once again we were not permitted to photograph anything, so ya'll won't get to see what all we saw. The item that made us all laugh was the little box in a glass case. It was placed upon a pedestal with a light shining brilliantly on the box. The label for the case read something to the effect of “The Buddhas Tooth” Apparently, the Buddha lost a tooth while he was here and some enterprising soul picked the tooth up off the ground and kept it in reverence. Of course, we couldn't see if there was an actual tooth in the box, so we had to take it on faith that the Buddha's tooth was really there.