PAKISTAN: NOT QUITE OVERLAND BUT WHAT AN ADVENTURE!

[jim65wagon]

We loaded back up into the Jeeps, switching it up a little bit, with Rizwan, Ali and Hadiqa joining Elizabeth and I for the ride down. It was just as rough and bouncy as the way up. The drivers still passing each other as they could. With arms and legs and butts sore from bouncing down the mountain we all climbed out of our respective jeeps, still laughing about the ride and and exclaiming over the sheer beauty of the Khagan Valley , the Lake Saif ul Maluk and the Himalayan Mountain range.

After, we all hit the Naran Bazaar for a bit of shopping. Walking along the street Elizabeth and I spotted a man carrying a cage with 3 chickens in it on his shoulder. Beenish and Iffat found a shop they wanted to try so we all went inside. While they shopped Beth and I watched the show. It's always a show, the pulling of fabrics from shelves, the shop owner displaying it across his arms, letting the customer feel the fabrics. Him extolling the virtues of the cloth, the buyer casting an eye to another fabric as they lazily feel the fabric. The shop owner then throws the cloth draped on his arms over the counter in a heap or even over his shoulder and onto the floor, grabbing for the fabric that caught his customers eye and they begin the bargaining process all over again.




After shopping in the bazaar, some finding shawls, some finding hats, some finding french fries (I have discovered the Pakistani peoples have a deep love of french fries – usually spiced to a tingly warmness) we made our way back to the resort. On our way back to the bus and we spied the Chicken Man. He only had one bird in his cage this time....







For the ride back the “kids” (that being the 20 and 30 somethings in the group all decided to ride “traditional” pakistani style. Mustafa, our driver, got out and opened the side window and they all climbed up onto the roof of the bus. Inside we could hear them hooting and hollering and singing. When I heard the singing it caught me off guard, I was expecting some traditional song, but my American ears were smiling upon hearing (at the top of their lungs) “Take me home, country roads, to the place, I belong, West Virginia! Mountain Momma! Take me home, country roads!” Along the way anyone on the side of the road smiled and shouted and waved at the riders on the roof. There seem to be lots of smiling friendly people in Naran. Back at the resort they climbed down from their rooftop perch and we all went to dinner.






Over dinner we discussed the fact that we were going to have to cut a day off the resort stay here. We had planned for two full days but as it turned out the Babusar Pass was still closed due to snow. Instead of a short 8 hour ride to get to the Hunza Valley we were going to have to take a two day detour through Manshera, stopping at Bescham City for an overnight and then another long drive to Hunza. The drive time would be 17 hours now. We were all disheartened by that fact, but you can't change the weather. This is not the first mountain pass Elizabeth and I have had to detour around because of snow.

 

[jim65wagon]

 

[alanymarce]

...Are you there now? It was late May and June for us. Pakistan is amazingly beautiful.

Planning on being there next year - July/August - a good time of year to be there, and we need to get away from India during the monsoon.

 

[jim65wagon]

After, we all hit the Naran Bazaar for a bit of shopping. Walking along the street Elizabeth and I spotted a man carrying a cage with 3 chickens in it on his shoulder. Beenish and Iffat found a shop they wanted to try so we all went inside. While they shopped Beth and I watched the show. It's always a show, the pulling of fabrics from shelves, the shop owner displaying it across his arms, letting the customer feel the fabrics. Him extolling the virtues of the cloth, the buyer casting an eye to another fabric as they lazily feel the fabric. The shop owner then throws the cloth draped on his arms over the counter in a heap or even over his shoulder and onto the floor, grabbing for the fabric that caught his customers eye and they begin the bargaining process all over again.




After shopping in the bazaar, some finding shawls, some finding hats, some finding french fries (I have discovered the Pakistani peoples have a deep love of french fries – usually spiced to a tingly warmness) we made our way back to the resort. On our way back to the bus and we spied the Chicken Man. He only had one bird in his cage this time....






For the ride back the “kids” (that being the 20 and 30 somethings in the group all decided to ride “traditional” pakistani style. Mustafa, our driver, got out and opened the side window and they all climbed up onto the roof of the bus. Inside we could hear them hooting and hollering and singing. When I heard the singing it caught me off guard, I was expecting some traditional song, but my American ears were smiling upon hearing (at the top of their lungs) “Take me home, country roads, to the place, I belong, West Virginia! Mountain Momma! Take me home, country roads!” Along the way anyone on the side of the road smiled and shouted and waved at the riders on the roof. There seem to be lots of smiling friendly people in Naran. Back at the resort they climbed down from their rooftop perch and we all went to dinner.

 

[jim65wagon]

Over dinner we discussed the fact that we were going to have to cut a day off the resort stay here. We had planned for two full days but as it turned out the Babusar Pass was still closed due to snow. Instead of a short 8 hour ride to get to the Hunza Valley we were going to have to take a two day detour through Manshera, stopping at Bescham City for an overnight and then another long drive to Hunza. The drive time would be 17 hours now. We were all disheartened by that fact, but you can't change the weather. This is not the first mountain pass Elizabeth and I have had to detour around because of snow.

BESHAM CITY AND THE DETOUR TO HUNZA​

In the morning we packed our suitcases and took them up to the bus. Elizabeth, having been a veterinarian for 29 years decided to give one of the local kids a hug before she left.



Once again we helped Mustafa load up the suitcases. I think he was getting used to us helping at this point because he didn't even try to stop us from helping. We all loaded up for the long ride. Following the road back down along the Kunhar river I watched once again as the rafting companies were pushing people out into the river and picking up their rafts downstream. Business was very good. We bounced along the road toward Manserha the scenery is epic and I caught myself wishing (for not the first time) that I had a camper of some type that I could set up along the river and enjoy a crisp mountain morning and a fresh cup of coffee. As we neared Manserha. Our driver pointed out that he knew a short cut and after a brief conversation between him, Rizwan and Umar it was agreed to take the cut. We turned off the main road and onto a side road not much wider than the bus. Mustafa just kept right on driving, even when cars came up and he had to squeeze the wheels of the bus right to the edge of the collapsing concrete road without slipping it into the deep water filled ditch, which once again demonstrated his skill at piloting this behemoth of a vehicle. With seeming ease we made it through New Balakot and back out to the main road heading toward Besham City.





We stopped for lunch (this would be about 4 or 5 PM lunch is always late afternoon) at the KPK Shinwari Dera Restaurant. The seating was traditional style with a big central table sitting inches above a low flat couch on all sides of it. To sit you had to remove your shoes, if you were one of the lucky diners on the wall side you had to walk on the couch to get to your seat. Then you just sit, on the couch cross legged with your knees at the edge of the table.

Madeline tried out her Translator app on her phone. It wasn't exactly accurate. The correct translation should have been GOURMET COLA. What she got was GORI COLA. Which, in one sense was spot on - Gori is the term for a white female tourist. Exactly right for Madeline.


The food was extremely good, I don't even recall what we ate. Mostly it was the normal Pakistan handis and neharis with naan to pick up the stew (no forks!) and various types of kebabs. It was all so good! We ate until we were stuffed and then wandered our way back to the bus. In the parking lot sat one of the few nice cars I had seen in Pakistan. This one appeared to be a 90's Land Cruiser LX (Prado?)




Farther up the road and we came to a police checkpoint. From here, since the bus was carrying foreigners (that's us!) we were required to have a police escort to our hotel in Besham City. Of course, we had our passports and visas checked and while they were checking those we got the story for the police escort. Apparently just a few weeks before, a suicide attack occurred on a car carrying Chinese Nationals working for the Dasu Dam Project. All five Chinese were killed along with the Pakistani driver of the car. For this reason all Chinese citizens were not allowed to travel north from here by vehicle, if they were traveling back to China they had to go by plane.




All non-Chinese foreigners were now required to have a police escort. While we waited on our escort we watched as a Chinese man argued with the guards before he was forced into a police car and driven south. We also heard the story of a busload of people that were stopped at this checkpoint the week before with a Chinese man riding with a group of locals. The bus was stopped while the guards tried to convince the man that he needed to get off the bus and leave going south. He refused saying

“I arrived on this bus and I will leave on this bus”
After a couple hours dealing with his stubbornness, the local Pakistanison the bus grabbed him and forcibly removed him from the bus and they continued their merry way north sans one Chinese man.....





Our escort finally arrived and we followed behind them and another car with two french men in it to the next check point. Once again, out came the passports and visas. Rizwan was gone a long time this time and he came back explaining that they wanted to keep photocopies of our passports and visas and they did not have a photocopier. We couldn't leave until they had the copies. Umar's Mom jumped into the fray and she, knowing the right people to talk to, called the District Commissioner and spoke (not unquietly) at length to him. In the end the police did not need photocopies, but we had one of them riding escort in the bus along the route, loaded rifle between his legs in the front passenger seat.


He rode along with us to Besham City. When we stopped for supper at a restaurant he had a chair brought outside and he sat by the front door with his rifle on his lap while we dined. Well after dark, and we finally made it to Besham City. Traffic had picked up and a steady stream of cars, goats and sheep blocked the roads. While we were stopped in a traffic jam the Officer said some words to our driver and he got off the bus. Umar said that he told the driver to drive straight to the hotel and if a police car got in front of us to “blink two times” and he left....


I was not nervous about this at all....it seemed totally legit.....right....

 

[the deputy]

Interesting journey, enjoyed the videos, too.

 

[Cabrito]

Thanks for taking us along. Looks like a wonderful trip.

 

[jim65wagon]

We finally made it to the “Hilton”, yes, it was actually called the Hilton. It looked like a great place to sleep for the 7500 rupees ($27USD) that we paid for each room. Well, it looked like it was a great place in the 1960s, and it hadn't been refurbished since then. Lessee, the wifi didn't work, the AC didn't work, the electrical outlets were a little loosey goosey for charging up our phones, the televisions didn't work, and the best part – the door locks. The door locks were sliding bolts with padlocks – on the outside of the door! I made the comment that everyone should keep their padlock inside at night and when asked why, I showed them how easy it would be to lock someone in a room. Elizabeth uttered “New fear unlocked” and everyone grabbed their padlocks and retired to their rooms.


I fiddled with our AC unit a bit trying to get it to work, all I managed to do was fall off the sofa and onto the coffee table. With nothing hurt but my pride (and my butt) I gave up on that and took a shower (in what I might add was actually a nice bathroom). The bathroom was, of course, the wet bath style, but this one was big enough to house, not only the squatty potty and a shower, but it had an actual bathtub, and a regular old American style toilet next to the squatty. A two-holer bathroom! The water heater hanging on the wall actually worked, but it leaked a constant stream of water into the garbage can...

Once Elizabeth and I climbed into bed it was late like 10:00PM late. We received a text from Umar, no long sleep for us. His text read:

“Team, We have to be on the bus at 3AM. There are road closures at Dasu and the roads are only open between 6 and 7:30AM. They close at 7:30 and do not reopen until 1PM. If we miss this window we will not make it Hunza and our destination there. We must be on the bus at 2:45AM. We can not afford to lose this window!”

4 hours later, Elizabeth and I were awake, cleaned, dressed and carrying luggage down the stairs that we just carried our luggage up to. While waiting on the bus driver to unlock the bus, she and I watched a herd of sheep and goats being herded down the street past the hotel. The armed (and I mean armed with automatic rifles – not mere handguns) security guards watched the shepherds suspiciously as they passed.




Madeline is ready for more bus time!

 

[jim65wagon]

We rode along through the dark and into the morning light. We had to be at Dasu by 6AM to meet the narrow window that the road was opened. We had to stop at a few more checkpoints along the way, each one wanting hard copies of our information, and each time Rizwan got them to just write down the information. It was a time consuming process and the two and a half hour drive turned out to be a bit longer. We did finally make it through the section of road they were closing down. It was close, but we made it.


The road we were following was obviously a mountain shelf road at one time, well, it's still a shelf road, it's just paved now – similar to the Million Dollar Highway in Colorado – except that this one is narrower and much much longer. Named the Karakoram Highway the road winds along the mountain range high above the Indus River. The scenery was just drop dead gorgeous, you know, I do love me some mountains! It wasn't until after I was back in the States that I found out that the Karakoram Highway is known as the Eighth Wonder and is itself a destination for adventure travelers.


We passed the fenced (with razor wire) construction site where they house the Chinese workers that are building the dam on the Indus River. Across the river we could see the remnants of what appeared to be a small town. Houses in various states of repair, some looking oddly like they are actually in process of being built, and funny too, was that there weren't any streets or roads built, just houses....well parts of houses. I asked, and once translated our driver let us know that the government was paying people to move from their homes that would be flooded once the waters back up and flood the river valley. Some enterprising people have stepped in and built cheap houses to show that they do indeed live in the flood zone and require compensation. Enterprising people!





For lunch we stopped in th little ephemeral town of Sumar Gah for tea and pyrhatas, it was quite a ramshackle little town but the owners of the tea place were nice and let us all use their washroom. And before you ask, yes it is just a hole in the ground. Well, it has a porcelain bowl surrounding the hole with rough grooves to keep your feet from slipping as you do your business. It was pretty typical of all the bathroom stops we've had since we left Islamabad. Once we were all empty and washed up, we sat on the benches and awaited our tea. The “restaurant” sat alongside a fast flowing snow melt fed stream, it's waters rushing down to the Indus. The tea and Pyrhatas were super tasty and we all enjoyed the refreshment before climbing back aboard the bus once again.




We continued our way along the Indus River, passing through small towns sprinkled here and there. Just past the town of Chilas, Umar announced that we had made it to the road we would have come out of if Babusar Pass had been opened, making our 17 hour drive a 7 hour drive. Cest la vie I guess. One more stop, this time outside the town of Jalgot, so we could all get a monumental view. The unique three spired monument rested atop a viewpoint, and what a view it was. From this point you can see the Confluence of Three Mountain Ranges: The Karakoram, the Hindu-Kush and the Himalayas were having their meeting in front of us. It was truly something to see!




Back on the bus, one last time, we finally arrived at our stop. The Roomy Dastaan Hotel. Much finer than the Hilton, let me tell you. This one is perched on the side of a mountain in the Hunza Valley. The view from the balcony was breathtaking!



We all found our rooms, tossed our bags down and after a short rest we all agreed to meet for dinner at the nearby Burgerville. The mere idea of Burgers had us salivating. To get to Burgerville from the hotel we had to walk up a flight of stairs up the mountainside. I didn't count the steps but it was enough that I had to stop for a rest break halfway up and by the time the top was reached my thighs were burning baby! Feel the burn! Burgerville advertised burgers of all kinds, with french fries of course! We (the American contingent of the group) had our sights set on a nice juicy American Style burger. The selections were written on a little chalkboard. We asked what name was what burger. The Old School (which we thought would be the classic americano) was actually a chicken burger. The Meat and Greet was described as nothing but a real beef burger. We all placed our orders and awaited our juicy burgers. They arrived at our table and looked tasty! The Old School Burger (chicken) was very dry and smothered in a very spicy sauce, the Meat and Greet turned out to be beef but it was actually a spicy kebab smooshed enough to fit into a bun. No American food for our tender tummies tonight! At least the fries could be had salted and otherwise unspiced. After dinner a few of us walked up the road to the bazaar and did a little shopping before we trudged down the bazillion stairs and climbed into bed for the night.

 

[jim65wagon]

GANISH KHUN and ALTIT FORT​

In the morning Beth and I went to the hotel dining room for breakfast. They had a young man that was operating an egg station. He cooked eggs any way you wanted. I had two over-easy with a little salt and pepper. Along With some toast and instant coffee breakfast turned out to be quite tasty and settling to our upset stomachs. By this point in the trip, the American contingent were all living on daily doses of immodium.

After our hearty (and bland by Pakistan standards) breakfast we took a short walk up the long flight of stairs, past the Burgerville and up the street. We got to see the most unusual motorcycle of the trip. It was all decked out in a Yak skin on the body, a Yak head on the handlebars and, of course, a Yak tail bringing up the rear of the bike. Pretty cool!




We returned to the hotel and everyone else was ready to start their day. The bus picked us all up and took us down the winding streets to the 1000 year old Ganish Khun Historical Village. Our tour guide was very knowledgeable about the history of the place. This is another of UNESCO's World Heritage Sites. He warned us early on the there were people living on the site. we were to avoid photographing them but we were to definitely NOT take photographs of the women. As we toured he showed us the butter storage refrigeration unit, which consisted of a hole in the ground near the waterway. The cold flowing water keeps the ground temperatures low enough to store the butter safely for years wrapped in birch bark. The same method has been used in the area for centuries and they have stored butter for over 20 years in this method. 20 year old butter is prized for very special occasions such as wedding parties.







We toured the narrow walkways of the village, our guide showed us how they locked the door to the entrance at night using a large pole. We got to see a couple of the small Mosques that were on site. We could look inside but our feet were not allowed to cross the threshold. Our guide delighted in explaining that the doors were small and of a height that necessitated any potential invaders to stick their heads in first allowing the opportunity for the defenders to CHOP! Their heads off! And he'd laugh heartily upon making a cutting motion with his hands.







\

 

[jim65wagon]

Outside one of the small Mosques, Mike and I discovered another ancient artifact. We had quite a long conversation about this particular piece of history, as it is one of my favorite subjects.





Elizabeth found it more interesting to learn about masonry and the unique tie downs they installed in the walls. She missed a rousing conversation about ancient trade routes.




After the tour we did some shopping in the village bazaar,it was a total 180 from the Murree Bazaar. Not crowded and quiet as we walked from shop to shop. We got Beth some earrings and Madeline scored a coral necklace for a super low (US wise) price.

 

[jim65wagon]

Episode 5: The Karakoram Highway and Ganish Khun Historical Village


Sent from my SM-G986U1 using Tapatalk

 

[406to417]

We rode along through the dark and into the morning light. We had to be at Dasu by 6AM to meet the narrow window that the road was opened. We had to stop at a few more checkpoints along the way, each one wanting hard copies of our information, and each time Rizwan got them to just write down the information. It was a time consuming process and the two and a half hour drive turned out to be a bit longer. We did finally make it through the section of road they were closing down. It was close, but we made it.
View attachment 858667

The road we were following was obviously a mountain shelf road at one time, well, it's still a shelf road, it's just paved now – similar to the Million Dollar Highway in Colorado – except that this one is narrower and much much longer. Named the Karakoram Highway the road winds along the mountain range high above the Indus River. The scenery was just drop dead gorgeous, you know, I do love me some mountains! It wasn't until after I was back in the States that I found out that the Karakoram Highway is known as the Eighth Wonder and is itself a destination for adventure travelers.
View attachment 858669

View attachment 858668We passed the fenced (with razor wire) construction site where they house the Chinese workers that are building the dam on the Indus River. Across the river we could see the remnants of what appeared to be a small town. Houses in various states of repair, some looking oddly like they are actually in process of being built, and funny too, was that there weren't any streets or roads built, just houses....well parts of houses. I asked, and once translated our driver let us know that the government was paying people to move from their homes that would be flooded once the waters back up and flood the river valley. Some enterprising people have stepped in and built cheap houses to show that they do indeed live in the flood zone and require compensation. Enterprising people!
View attachment 858670




For lunch we stopped in th little ephemeral town of Sumar Gah for tea and pyrhatas, it was quite a ramshackle little town but the owners of the tea place were nice and let us all use their washroom. And before you ask, yes it is just a hole in the ground. Well, it has a porcelain bowl surrounding the hole with rough grooves to keep your feet from slipping as you do your business. It was pretty typical of all the bathroom stops we've had since we left Islamabad. Once we were all empty and washed up, we sat on the benches and awaited our tea. The “restaurant” sat alongside a fast flowing snow melt fed stream, it's waters rushing down to the Indus. The tea and Pyrhatas were super tasty and we all enjoyed the refreshment before climbing back aboard the bus once again.
View attachment 858671

View attachment 858672

We continued our way along the Indus River, passing through small towns sprinkled here and there. Just past the town of Chilas, Umar announced that we had made it to the road we would have come out of if Babusar Pass had been opened, making our 17 hour drive a 7 hour drive. Cest la vie I guess. One more stop, this time outside the town of Jalgot, so we could all get a monumental view. The unique three spired monument rested atop a viewpoint, and what a view it was. From this point you can see the Confluence of Three Mountain Ranges: The Karakoram, the Hindu-Kush and the Himalayas were having their meeting in front of us. It was truly something to see!
View attachment 858673

View attachment 858674

Back on the bus, one last time, we finally arrived at our stop. The Roomy Dastaan Hotel. Much finer than the Hilton, let me tell you. This one is perched on the side of a mountain in the Hunza Valley. The view from the balcony was breathtaking!
View attachment 858675


We all found our rooms, tossed our bags down and after a short rest we all agreed to meet for dinner at the nearby Burgerville. The mere idea of Burgers had us salivating. To get to Burgerville from the hotel we had to walk up a flight of stairs up the mountainside. I didn't count the steps but it was enough that I had to stop for a rest break halfway up and by the time the top was reached my thighs were burning baby! Feel the burn! Burgerville advertised burgers of all kinds, with french fries of course! We (the American contingent of the group) had our sights set on a nice juicy American Style burger. The selections were written on a little chalkboard. We asked what name was what burger. The Old School (which we thought would be the classic americano) was actually a chicken burger. The Meat and Greet was described as nothing but a real beef burger. We all placed our orders and awaited our juicy burgers. They arrived at our table and looked tasty! The Old School Burger (chicken) was very dry and smothered in a very spicy sauce, the Meat and Greet turned out to be beef but it was actually a spicy kebab smooshed enough to fit into a bun. No American food for our tender tummies tonight! At least the fries could be had salted and otherwise unspiced. After dinner a few of us walked up the road to the bazaar and did a little shopping before we trudged down the bazillion stairs and climbed into bed for the night.

View attachment 858676

What's up with the goat head? Looks like taxidermy but with painted on eyes.

 

[jim65wagon]

What's up with the goat head? Looks like taxidermy but with painted on eyes.

That's exactly what it was. It must be a Hunza Valley thing because nearly every taxidermy mount we saw in Karimabad had painted eyes like that.

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[jim65wagon]

From Ganish we moved on to the Altit Fort. Once again we had a super friendly and knowledgeable tour guide and once again it was a UNESCO site. He told us the fort was built for a Baltistan Princess. Her husband refused to build her a home worthy of a Princess, upon hearing this, her father, the King of Shigar sent a whole slew of Tibetan Artisans and Masons to build a fort worthy of his daughter. He presented it as a dowry gift.



Altit Fort is riddled with narrow passageways, small doors, and defensible high positions. It also contains large meeting rooms on the rooftop, a dungeon in the basement, and in the main entrance hall there is a Standing Grave. That's right, a standing grave. It seems one of the Princes had an issue with his brother. Ali Khan (the guide said his name was Jamal, but my reading afterward always said Ali Khan) was buried alive in his fort by his brother Shah Abbas. Our guide pointed out that in reconstruction of the fort they found the bones within the grave and were ordered to leave them in place, rebuilding the grave tower as it was.

Not me standing next to a Standing Grave.....










Altit Fort and it's surrounding village is, like Ganish Khun, a UNESCO World Heritage site. Also, like Ganish, the village is occupied by locals...