I wasn’t too sure what to expect when I entered Pakistan, a glimpse of any news report of the country is sure to make you a little apprehensive about the security situation, my first impression however was very good, I went from a strict and prolonged border crossing where photos were prohibited on the Indian side to the Pakistan side where the security guards were happy to take photos of me and the bike in front of the gate welcoming me to the country, so far so good. As usual I hadn’t booked any accommodation before arriving in Lahore but the lady at immigration insisted I have somewhere to stay before see stamped my passport, a quick check on the internet using the immigration office WiFi came up with the only backpacker hostel in Lahore and that is where I headed. Lahore turned out to be a gem of a place to stay, the staff at Lahore backpackers were super helpful, they provided secure parking for the bike and there were plenty of things to see in the historic city that was once the capital of the Mogul empire. Perhaps it’s because Pakistan sees a lot less tourists than India but the people of Lahore were just so much friendlier than their neighbours to the East, as I visited some of the tourist attractions people would stop to welcome me to Pakistan and offer to buy me a cup of tea. It was also a pleasant feeling to not feel like I was being ripped off because I was a tourist whenever I bought something, if anything I’d usually get a discount or somebody would offer to pay.
The streets of Lahore were an interesting place to explore,
Sajjad the hostel manager took me on a tour of some of the less visited places
in the city on the back of his 125 cc Honda. Our first stop was a medicine man
who specialised in aphrodisiacs made from the oils extracted from the cobras
that he kept in a basket on the desk of his makeshift street side shop. The ear
cleaner had a booth right next door, as did the dentist, this guy was
hilarious, he had no medical training but as I stood watching he replaced an
old man’s tooth with the help of his cigarette smoking assistant, it only took
a few minutes and cost a few bucks, I’m not too confident about the level of hygiene
though. The fish market was around the corner and I had to steady myself so I
didn’t slip on the scales that covered the floor of the narrow alley way. The
fishmongers were more than happy to pose for photos as they showed off the
largest of their wares, they stood with smiles holding huge fish and eels as I
snapped away with my camera. As I sat on the back of the bike we rode through
narrow streets that were lined with shops that sold everything from electrical
goods to fine handmade garments. Lahore’s major tourist attractions were also
very impressive, the old walled city, Badshahi Mosque, Shalimar gardens and the
tomb of Maharaja Ranjit Singh, lion of the Punjab.
It didn’t take long for word to get out to some of the local
motorcycle groups of Lahore that I had arrived in Pakistan and I was soon
befriended by a number of local riders who were more than happy to take me
around the city in the evenings sampling some of Lahore’s most famous foods. I enjoyed
a week exploring Lahore however I had my sights set on riding the Karakoram
highway, a road that has long been famous with overland travellers. The
Karakoram stretches North from Islamabad to the Chinese border and onward to
Kashgar. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to ride all the way to the China border as
heavy winter snowfall meant that the highway was closed 80 km from the border,
however this this still left me with 750km of the famous road to explore. Before
I headed north I had to make a decision, as I was doing some maintenance on the
Beemer in Lahore I noticed a leaking suspension seal, I decided that getting
the bike to Europe in one piece was my number one priority and I didn’t want to
risk the bumpy 2000km return trip from Lahore so I put the big girl in storage
and jumped on a bus to Islamabad where I hired a 150 cc Suzuki for my Karakoram
adventure. Riding the little Suzuki was a different world from the comfort of
the 1200cc BMW but perhaps the small local bike was the most genuine way
to experience this iconic road. The Suzuki did a great job for its size, it got
me over the steep mountain passes without a problem, even if I did have it at
full throttle for the majority of the time, from what I was used to it lacked
some serious power and also storage space which meant on this trip I was just
taking the basics, which was a nice change from the over packed pannier boxes
of the GS. The trip to Abbottabad lake took me through some spectacular scenery
and for the most part the highway ran parallel to the old silk road, motorbikes
and cars still used this precarious stretch of dirt road that is cut into the
side of the steep, rockslide prone valley wall, it was the main trade road until
the KKH was finished in 1979. The Hunza valley is the major tourist attraction
in Northern Pakistan and as I marvelled at the natural beauty of the area it
was easy to see why, having said this,
peak tourist season is between April and September when the valleys are filled
with green, it was only myself and a very small number of other tourists who
were foolish enough to visit in the middle of winter. There was no denying it
was cold and loosing feeling in my aching finger tips was a sign that it was
time to get off the bike for a while and warm my hands up, the discomfort of
riding in the cold weather was well worth it when you realise that you are
surrounded by the 3 highest mountain ranges in the world, Himalaya, Karakoram
and the Hindu Kush, not to mention K2, the world’s second highest mountain.
After exploring the forts of Karimabad and taking in the views of the snow
covered valleys of Hunza I pushed a little further on to Abbottabad Lake. The
lake was formed when landslides in 2010 cut off both the Karakorum highway and
Indus River, this meant that all vehicles had to be loaded onto barges and
ferried across the reservoir, resulting in a famous photo opportunity for many
overland travellers. It was only recently that a trade pact between Pakistan
and China resulted in a tunnel being built and therefore bringing an end to the
famous boat trip, seeing the famous lake is still a must for an over
Lander, even though I did miss the photo opportunity of the big girl and myself
on the barge. To bypass the lake 5 tunnels had
to be built, the longest of which is 3360 meters and with no internal lighting
the curving tunnel was pitch black other than the light from your headlights.
As I headed into the longest of the tunnels I barely noticed the roadworks that
were underway until I saw a worker pop is head out of a neatly cut square that
was a meter each side, just big enough for a small bike to fall into if you
weren’t paying attention .I was well into the tunnel when the headlight on my
bike started flickering, “surely not here?”, yep you guessed it, the light died
as I was doing 50 km/h in a pitch black tunnel with large holes cut into one of
the two lanes. I came to a stop as quickly and safely as possible steering in
what I hoped was a straight line, the bike came to a stand still and I hadn’t fallen into any holes, that was a
positive. The tunnel was that dark I literarily couldn’t see my hand in front
of my face, I couldn’t move for fear of dropping down one of the holes but I
was more than a little worried about a car coming along what was now a single
lane tunnel and running straight into me. I put the indicator on which gave me
enough light to get off the busy side of the road and fumble through my bag for
my head torch, with my Led Lensor an full beam I slowly made my way out the
tunnel, thankful that no cars had run into me while I was stranded. At the
tunnel entrance I mentioned my predicament to the security guards who invited me
into their small office to sit by the fire and have a cup of tea, we flagged
down a car, who’s driver was happy to let me ride in front of him with his high
beams on for the rest of the tunnels, so I could make my way back to Karimabad and my warm hotel room.
Most of the roads were closed around Hunza province so the only way back to
Islamabad was to go the way I came along the KKH, although I’d already seen
much of the scenery it was still a nice ride. Police escorts are required for
much of the highway but luckily for me they would let me ride ahead and wouldn’t mind if I pulled away
until I met the next escort along the roadside, I’d explain that the other guys
were bringing up the rear and they would smile and let me go ahead too, this
saved me a lot of time sitting behind slow cars. The cold weather meant there
was some ice on the roads at a few points along the way, luckily it hadn’t
rained for quite a while so it wasn’t too bad, I wasn’t used to riding on ice
however so as soon as I suspected any on the road I would ride super
cautiously. This approach got me through the trip until the last day when on the last high pass some ice on
a corner sent me skidding off the road, I was going quite slowly so I was fine
and so was the bike albeit for a broken front brake lever. It could have been
worse, if it was the clutch lever I would have been screwed but it meant that I would be
riding the last few hundred km with just a rear brake. I had one or two close
calls but I made it back to the bike rental shop without any other incidents
and the guys were surprisingly understanding of the broken parts, what a great
adventure, riding the Suzuki for the 1600 km return trip was a ball but it made
me appreciate my GS all the more, I was glad to get back to the big girl and
continue my journey west.
The road west wasn’t all that I’d hoped for, I rode from
Lahore to Multan, where I planned to spend the night only to find that foreign
tourists were only allowed to stay at a hand full of hotels in the city and
they charged a premium for the privilege. It seemed budget accommodation was no
longer an option for the remainder of my trip through Pakistan, the cheapest
place I found for my 1 night stay would have paid for a week at the backpackers
at Lahore. The road to Multan lead me
past the ruins of the ancient city of Harappa, dating back 5000 years it is one
of the world’s oldest urban settlements. Unfortunately much of what remained of
Harappa was damaged when under British rule the bricks were looted and used for
ballast in the construction of the Lahore-Multan railway. The museum at the
site had some very interesting artefacts and you were actually able to walk
through the ruins of the city, it is amazing to think that up to 25,000
residents went about their daily lives here 5000 years ago. I was also hoping to visit Harappa’s sister
city of Mohenjo-daro the next day, Mohenjo-daro was older and apparently in
better condition, I’d read that damage from soil salinity was threating the ruins and this made me want
to visit the historical sight all the
more while it was still possible. Harappa was just a few km from the highway
and it was already hard to find, I was hopeful of finding the city of
Mohenjo-daro a little easier but it was apparent that the further I travelled
South West the less importance tourism played. In the end I didn’t make it to
the ancient city, poor signage meant that I had wasted too much time to reach
it by dark and my priority had to be getting a hotel, I had hoped to visit the
city the next day before heading to Questa but the staff at the hotel told me I required an escort and
I couldn’t travel to that location alone, at that point I was still tempted to
give it a shot but with my visa expiry date rapidly approaching and with
government escorts to deal with for the next few days across Baluchistan
province the decision was pretty much made for me, skip the historical city and
head to the border.
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