Arriving in Pakistan we were unsure what to expect really, a lot of our travel plans are at the mercy of the mercy of the police and their opinion of where we can travel and how much freedom we can have. The first two days was spent transitting through the desert to reach Quetta. Quetta being considered the most dangerous city we would visit and the road there being talked about as one of the most dangerous roads in the world due to bandits and other possible annoyances found in problem areas(!). The desert brought a new travelling experience to all of us as all of a sudden somebody turned the heating up full blast, driving along with the windows open was now like getting the blast of air that comes out of the oven when you open the door! It was 50 degrees celcius for a couple of days and other days only fell a few degrees short, in that heat we are supposed to be drinking 9 litres of water a day!! This is no easy task and I for one failed pathetically! We didn't even know whether to keep the windows open or not, is it better to bake through a window with no air or have the window open and an industrial hair-dryer trained on you?! Drinking all the water also means toilet stops - tell me... where do you hide in the desert when you need to take a wilderness wee?? There is nothing to hide behind! One time we stopped at a checkpoint (i think) and hid behind a small building and some lovely kind and helpful man came running over with ewers of water for us to wash... we wre trying to stop him rushing over as clearly we were not dressed for visitors!!
This part of Pakistan is covered with roadblocks and we're stopped so often, sometimes as little as 30km separates the roadblocks and it really slows our progress. Add to that the condition of the desert roads, some of them are covered in sand and some have partially crumbled away, one of our travel days was done at an average of 30 mph.
The armed escorts began in Iran and escalated as much as the temperature on our way to Quetta. The first Iranian escort failed to materialise but when we were closer to the border we were given what can only be described as an army cadet, he didn't look a day over 14 and had no weapon, unless of course a catapult lay undetected in his back pocket!! On the Pakistan side we started with two guards which grew to four, then six and eventually we wree driving in to Quetta flanked by 12 guards! This city also has a 6pm curfew for all westerners. Before and after Pakistan this part seemed quite a dangerous journey but admittedly at the time it never felt that way, we never felt scared or unsafe but clearly the police decided that a certain level of security was necessary. Having said that, the truth is that not everyone was happy to see white people in the area, a rock was thrown at us (and hit one of the girls) while walking through the streets and another rock was thrown and struck the truck while leaving the city. The vast majority of people were delighted to see us, they smiled, waved, welcomed us with what little english they had, they crowded around when we stopped walking and some of them followed us up the streets, it was like being a celebrity! The more interesting point about the streets is that almost every single person out there is male, the handful of women we did see were all begging!
Such a poor country, the sewerage runs down open ditches at the side of the street, sometimes it overflows onto the road and the pavement and you're having to walk through it in flip-flops! People must continue to earn their living with their food stalls right next to the open sewer with it's pungent aroma permeating the air! No matter what happens you have to make your money, whether you're the old man pushing your cart down the street while dragging a limp foot behind you or you're the disabled amputee in the home made trolley-come-wheelchair begging, at the end of the day you either bring home some cash or you literally starve! There is no help. It's a very hard life in this country and yet still when we visit their shops they offer us tea and biscuits! The bustling friendly vibe of Quetta means you can't help but love it! I just feel sorry for the people who have armed soldiers permanently stationed outside their shops or stalls, it's not nice to have people with large guns become such a regular part of your every day life as they so quickly did with ours. I never though I would get used to it but after only one night I was photographing them!
Onwards and eastwards. The more direct route to Lahore was deemed too dangerous for travel (for whatever reason) so we were taken slightly south via Sukkur. Another busy hive of activity we ended up here for an extra night due to our driver suffering the Pakistani delhi-belly. At 48 degrees I'm afraid I saw little of this town, it's too hot to go walking around!
Further east we stayed in Bahawalpur which was our last stop before Lahore. It was around this point that the landscape changed and hot baron and colourless desert was slowly phased out and replaced with green fields, trees and forms of irrigation. It's nice to see colours after a few days of yellows and browns, the only colour you get in the desert is the fantastic vibrancy of the 'jingle truck'. Brightly painted and beatifully decorated with jingles and jangles and tinselly decorations and material garlands these rainbow-bright's are an optical delight against a bland background. Even the steering wheels have ribbon wrapped around them and the drivers are very proud to be associated with their vehicles. The madness spreads and people cannot help but jingle up other vehicles, tractors, bikes, tuctucs, I even saw a jingle digger!
Once we reached Lahore the escort service was finished and we were free to continue our journey alone again, at this point we found news of American drone attacks in north east Pakistan, as if to drive home the point that this country is maybe not as safe and secure as it feels. A very sad reminder. After such a difficult past I am saddened that these lovely people still have a difficult future ahead of them. Despite all the things they have lived through, despite the conditions that their every-day lives revolve around, despite all their hardships they look into their crystal ball and see a foggy uncertain future.You have to admire their resilience and optimism.
Lahore is a far more modern city with people wearing jeans! It's still a Pakistani city with the same bustling busy characteristics but it's great to stop and sit and watch the world go by in it's haphazard anything-goes fashion that only an asian country can achieve. I do love to soak up the atmosphere in these places, as far as people watching goes it's a prime location. Back home eating curry for breakfast is like waving the pity-me-i've-got-a-hangover flag, here it's just normal to sit at a street stall with your bowl of curry and a naan. The food has been a spciy delight, I think I'm still quite chilli shy but am getting used to not having a choice. Tomorrow is the Indian border, their gate opens as another one shuts behind us. Onwards and eastwards.
This part of Pakistan is covered with roadblocks and we're stopped so often, sometimes as little as 30km separates the roadblocks and it really slows our progress. Add to that the condition of the desert roads, some of them are covered in sand and some have partially crumbled away, one of our travel days was done at an average of 30 mph.
The armed escorts began in Iran and escalated as much as the temperature on our way to Quetta. The first Iranian escort failed to materialise but when we were closer to the border we were given what can only be described as an army cadet, he didn't look a day over 14 and had no weapon, unless of course a catapult lay undetected in his back pocket!! On the Pakistan side we started with two guards which grew to four, then six and eventually we wree driving in to Quetta flanked by 12 guards! This city also has a 6pm curfew for all westerners. Before and after Pakistan this part seemed quite a dangerous journey but admittedly at the time it never felt that way, we never felt scared or unsafe but clearly the police decided that a certain level of security was necessary. Having said that, the truth is that not everyone was happy to see white people in the area, a rock was thrown at us (and hit one of the girls) while walking through the streets and another rock was thrown and struck the truck while leaving the city. The vast majority of people were delighted to see us, they smiled, waved, welcomed us with what little english they had, they crowded around when we stopped walking and some of them followed us up the streets, it was like being a celebrity! The more interesting point about the streets is that almost every single person out there is male, the handful of women we did see were all begging!
Such a poor country, the sewerage runs down open ditches at the side of the street, sometimes it overflows onto the road and the pavement and you're having to walk through it in flip-flops! People must continue to earn their living with their food stalls right next to the open sewer with it's pungent aroma permeating the air! No matter what happens you have to make your money, whether you're the old man pushing your cart down the street while dragging a limp foot behind you or you're the disabled amputee in the home made trolley-come-wheelchair begging, at the end of the day you either bring home some cash or you literally starve! There is no help. It's a very hard life in this country and yet still when we visit their shops they offer us tea and biscuits! The bustling friendly vibe of Quetta means you can't help but love it! I just feel sorry for the people who have armed soldiers permanently stationed outside their shops or stalls, it's not nice to have people with large guns become such a regular part of your every day life as they so quickly did with ours. I never though I would get used to it but after only one night I was photographing them!
Onwards and eastwards. The more direct route to Lahore was deemed too dangerous for travel (for whatever reason) so we were taken slightly south via Sukkur. Another busy hive of activity we ended up here for an extra night due to our driver suffering the Pakistani delhi-belly. At 48 degrees I'm afraid I saw little of this town, it's too hot to go walking around!
Further east we stayed in Bahawalpur which was our last stop before Lahore. It was around this point that the landscape changed and hot baron and colourless desert was slowly phased out and replaced with green fields, trees and forms of irrigation. It's nice to see colours after a few days of yellows and browns, the only colour you get in the desert is the fantastic vibrancy of the 'jingle truck'. Brightly painted and beatifully decorated with jingles and jangles and tinselly decorations and material garlands these rainbow-bright's are an optical delight against a bland background. Even the steering wheels have ribbon wrapped around them and the drivers are very proud to be associated with their vehicles. The madness spreads and people cannot help but jingle up other vehicles, tractors, bikes, tuctucs, I even saw a jingle digger!
Once we reached Lahore the escort service was finished and we were free to continue our journey alone again, at this point we found news of American drone attacks in north east Pakistan, as if to drive home the point that this country is maybe not as safe and secure as it feels. A very sad reminder. After such a difficult past I am saddened that these lovely people still have a difficult future ahead of them. Despite all the things they have lived through, despite the conditions that their every-day lives revolve around, despite all their hardships they look into their crystal ball and see a foggy uncertain future.You have to admire their resilience and optimism.
Lahore is a far more modern city with people wearing jeans! It's still a Pakistani city with the same bustling busy characteristics but it's great to stop and sit and watch the world go by in it's haphazard anything-goes fashion that only an asian country can achieve. I do love to soak up the atmosphere in these places, as far as people watching goes it's a prime location. Back home eating curry for breakfast is like waving the pity-me-i've-got-a-hangover flag, here it's just normal to sit at a street stall with your bowl of curry and a naan. The food has been a spciy delight, I think I'm still quite chilli shy but am getting used to not having a choice. Tomorrow is the Indian border, their gate opens as another one shuts behind us. Onwards and eastwards.
No comments:
Post a Comment