Day 23: Lahore

I can’t believe it has only taken 23 days to get this far. This seriously overpopulated city is the second largest in Pakistan. It was also the capital of the Punjab region under the Britsh Raj. Over a thousand years has developed and sustained this city, with almost every empire through its history having its capital here. The Shahi kingdom profited here during the 11th Century and were followed by the Ghaznavis in the 12th. By the time the British arrived, many of the more historic and impressive buildings and monuments had been here centuries already.

The citadel of the city.

Completed in 1673. Wow.

After yesterday’s long and tiring drive up from Loralai, I have decide to take a day off and see some of this amazing city. It’s Saturday, and tomorrow I will try to cross into India, but right now, I will get a flavour of the busy Lahore. The hotel is very central, so I throw a small backpack over my shoulder, make sure my camper is safe, and walk off to see what I can see.

In 1858, the rule of the British East India Company was transferred to the Crown in the person of Queen Victoria. [She became Empress of India] It lasted until 1947, and some would say that it brought a much needed steady hand. Others saw this as imperial interference. Strictly speaking, of course, it wasn’t just India that the British took over. The new rulers spread out to take in large parts of modern Pakistan, india, Bangladesh and Burma. They brought new industries, like railways, and introduced new trade systems and organisation. Like all dictatorships, they also took advantage of the local people, which never turns out too well.

Lahore Museum, built during the British Raj.

Iqbal or Minto Park, site of the 'Lighthouse of Pakistan'.

I visit the Lahore Museum, which was once curated by Rudyard Kipling’s father. The things you learn. The museum contains a fine selection of paintings and weapons, and is particularly well known for its collection of artefacts from the Gandharan civilisation. Probably the most famous exhibit is the spectacular ‘Fasting Buddha’.

I will be staying in the same hotel for tonight and will head off straight after breakfast towards the border.

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Long haul to Lahore

I woke early, as expected and made a quick breakfast of bread, cold meats, jam and the ever popular, cup of tea. I suspect my little cache of English teabags is going to run out before I get to the Pacific coast, but I will be into India tomorrow, so should be able to buy something decent.

I approached a few people with my fuel can to get an idea of where I could get any petrol, and I was told that there was a large petrol station as I headed out of town. I wasn’t that low, but it probably makes sense to top up wherever possible. Out on the main road (N70) I pulled into the Jogezai petrol station. There are not too many actual petrol stations on this stretch, and the ‘man at the side of the road’ is a more common sight. This is true entrepreneurial spirit, and just goes to prove the staying power of the Pakistani people.

My journey today takes me to Lahore in the north east of where I am. I will be taking all day to get there, and hope that the roads are clear and in good condition. I expect to experience some great scenery.

What a beautiful mish-mash of terrain.

I stop off only to get fresh water.

Only an hour up the road I pull over into Mekhtar to fill up my water bottles. Water is not as free-flowing out here as it is at home. I ask at a store and am guided to a water pump. It’s very warm today, and I enjoy the drive, even if it is constant. Nine hours according to Google maps, but local knowledge tells me it is a little slower in places. The main N70 is largely clear, but travelling through some of the smaller towns offer damaged roads. Tonight I need to get to Lahore and a hot bath. I have ‘booked’ a room in Hotel One The Mall using Expedia.com, a reasonable grade hotel in the very centre of the city, so getting there a little late shouldn’t be a problem.

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A stop off at Loralai

I reach Loralai about an hour before the sun dips fully behind the mountains, but it stays light a little longer. The  city was formerly known as Bori, and is now the main city of the Loralai District. Loralai is 4,700 ft above sea level, but driving the mountains is very misleading and you are never quite sure how high or low you are. The area is one of very mixed tribes, including some from Afghanistan. It is also the home of the Paramilitary Frontier Corp, and there are many signs of the military around. Coal is mined here, and most of the houses are mud-construction, as the local soil cannot be used for brick-making, as the bricks tend to be too brittle.

The trucks out this way are incredible.

A short stop off to buy a snack.

The people here are welcoming, but I get the impression that not too many foreign travellers come though often at this time of year. A virtual traveller can be a little oblivious of the weather, or season. The city is well maintained and I pass schools, tennis courts and even a scouts group. Not far through, I pull over into a car park to the side of the Jinnah market. This turns out to be worth it, as the Cant Road leads me straight out in the morning onto the N70 towards Lahore, my next destination.

Local traffic.

Shops and street sellers.

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East to Harnai

Pakistan is a tribal nation and a history full of internal conflict. Certainly since 2001, the mountain region of the Pakistani/Afganistan border has become the focus of the global fight against the Taliban. This region, maybe more than any other needs careful management.

Every guide book tells me to avoid this region.

For this reason alone I have plotted a route more east of Quetta than Google maps offers me. I first expected the roads to be worse than the Highway I came in on, but actually, and probably because of less overall traffic, I find that the Harnai road is in better shape. I have been using Tripmondo for some of my information on this route. I expected the three and a half hour drive to take much more than that, but decided to carry on through to Loralai along the Sinjawi road.

It might be a little cold out, but the sun is shining.

It's green on the mountains. (and a bit wet.)

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Day 21: Quetta

Let me show you what the Foreign & Commonwealth Office say about Quetta.

What is equally worrying is that any research on Google comes up with some shocking information about the area and constant civil unrest. I did a search for Quetta markets, to see what was on offer and where people shop, and I get a dozen images of fruit and veg and six times that of unrest, military action and gutted cars and buildings. All in markets, though, so can’t grumble too much. One article I read discussed the tribal problems that are inherent with this region. As a virtual traveller I can only continue the trip and sample what this region has to offer, knowing that being there could be otherwise dangerous.

Quetta has a wide and varied history. The city is at an altitude of 1,680 m (5,500 ft) and close to the Afghanistan border, which means the local military is an important addition. There are mountain peaks one almost all sides. It is barely 3C today, although sunny, and as I am going north again, it’s time to get my coat on.

Dry fruits and nuts galore.

To think that this is all local produce.

The area is susceptible to earthquakes and Quetta was largely destroyed in 1934 killing about 40,000 people and reducing large sections of the city to rubble. Since then, a great number of new builds of single storey properties have been constructed in a more quake-resistent method using reinforced concrete. Additional to these are multi-storey car parks and apartments, and although designed to be quake-proof, are a tad worrying.

I spend a couple of hours here and decide to move on. The tribal regions are north west and very close, and just about any quide suggests staying well away from them. With on one official border crossing between Pakistan and India, I decide to plot a course east, but Google maps has a very specific view of what direction it wants to go in, and that is a little too north for my liking. Time to plot a better route.

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Last stretch before Quetta

As I thought, I didn’t sleep very well. I recall camping in France once where we were driving back from the south on our way back to Denmark, where we lived at the time. We camped at the roadside just off a track and put our tent up. We were both very nervous and, I kid you not, I slept with a knife under my pillow.

The rest of the drive into Quetta was a little better, but still not great. A slow drive, but better than picking up some damage or hitting a pot hole. It was truly excited when I had a stretch of good road, and the temptation to put my foot down was huge.

No petrol station anywhere, but a few of these!

I topped up the camper at this stop-off. The guy was very friendly and spoke English. Made me feel pretty stupid, because I speak no Pakistani. Note to myself: Learn the basics at least. This guy just pumped the fuel out of the barrels with a hand pump.

Good job I wasn't going that way!

I finally arrived in Quetta hungry, but early. First job is to find some great food.

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Not quite Quetta

My trip to Quetta took much longer than Google Maps estimates. I read a number of blog and travel guide sites that featured this stretch of road, and it was plain to figure that my camper couldn’t manage the 729 km in eight hours. The roads along this plain are less than perfect and quite damaged in places. I read a terrific blog entry for someone who did this trip just 18 months ago and said that he got to Quetta in just over 11 hours on a motorcycle. Not good for my camper friend. Given the stories I read, I would have arrived in Quetta in the early hours, which wouldn’t have been great. I could have ‘booked’ a hotel, which would have had a late open reception, but the cost of a hotel in this city is three times the cost for any previous night.

Instead, I found a very small village near the train line at Kardagap that runs alongside Highway N40. I drive down to the train station, which is little more than a shelter and a few storerooms. All very open. I know I wouldn’t be too happy to camp up and sleep here, but the option isn’t there.

Kardagap village and station

I suspect I don’t sleep too well, but I think this is a better place than in the city, which does have a history of unrest and trouble.

Beautiful in the day.

Noisy trains in the morning.

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Edging my way into Pakistan

I left Zahedan straight after breakfast, which was a good move. Once I got out onto the border road I was escorted in stages by one police officer to the next. Three hours later, and mostly taken up by waiting between one checkpoint and the next, I got to the border buildings. Actually checking in and crossing the border was relatively fine. Less than two hours on the border and I find myself in Pakistan.

Taftan, the first town into the country is practically non-existant and there isn’t much need to stop. The roads on the other side were a bit of a shock. Iran highways seem new, and well maintained, but the Pakistani roads are damaged in plenty of places. As I head off I regularly have to dodge a section of road that has been washed away or split apart.

Something tells me the trip to Quetta is going to be longer than the Google Map indicates. It’s now about half one and I have another seven hours driving, road permitting. That would put me in Quetta at 22:00. Much later than I would like.

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Zahedan and the border

At the end of Highway 84, the city of Zahedan stands as one of the newest cities in Iran. I am just an hour and a half from Pakistan and my next virtual step around the virtual world.

Zahedan was a very small village until it was chosen as the administrative centre of the region in the 1930′s. It is now home to many industries for cotton, linen and ceramics, bricks and baskets, among others.

The city is a wide mix of old and new.

Religion is a major influence in Iran.

History of this city shows regular clashes between Iranian police and drug dealers and militants and terrorists such as Jundallah. In recent years two terrible bombings have killed around 40 people and injuring many more. It’s sad to think that a community can be harmed so badly, but that’s the price paid. It’s a very tribal nation. For this reason I will check into a hotel for safety and get a good night sleep.

Tomorrow I head into Pakistan.

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Bam!

Just two hours into my trip today, I pulled in to a place called Bam. I can’t tell you how incredible this place is. Bam is the location for an ancient city that dates back 2000 years.

Behold, the ancient city of Arg-e-bam

This is not the find to have only a couple of hours spare for. The majority of the city was constructed during the reign of the Safavid dynasty. Click the image and take a proper look. Please.

The citadel was the largest adobe building in the world and used ingenious methods as a form of air-conditioning. With the Silk Road running across the north of Iran, this city would have supplied the northern region and passing traders and was well-known for the quality of its dates and citrus fruit.

Red for land, blue for sea. For the time, this WAS the known world.

It is with genuine sadness that the city today is less than this impressive image. In 2003 the area was hit by a 6.6 scale earthquake that destroyed large parts of the main structure, killing over 26,000 people, or about half the population of Bam. 44 countries sent in help and 60 countries offered assistance. The area is also susceptible to sandstorms, and the monument is cleared fairly regularly because of this. Thankfully many of the main structures are being rebuilt.

But I have a date with a city nearer the border and have to go. I can see the main tower for some miles, but the road curves out into the empty desert again.

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