Diary & Travel Reports by Simon Milward
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00/06/02 Priceless Pakistan
Fri, 02 Jun 2000 17:07:45 GMT |
2k/03/28 Karachi-bound
2k/03/08
2k/02/19
2k/02/09
2k/01/28
2k/01/21
2k/01/10
99/12/26
99/12/26
99/12/23
99/10/
99/09/23
99/09/06
99/07/28
99/07/17
99/07/11
99/06/12
99/05/04
99/04/10 |
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Welcome back to the Millennium Ride! Great to talk to you again and welcome to all the newcomers to the Millennium Ride sponsors server. I'm really very very sorry about the lack of updates, particularly since I assured you I was going to get my act together in the last Dubai email. But I did write them on time, honest, basically the problem was technical growth pains. Anyway, we're all pleased to know that all is back on line. Petrol on, adjust mirror, stupid grin, action.
I writing this in the holy city of Varanasi (Benares, the old name), India. There's a giant fan right next to my ear in this internet cafe, sounds like a propeller in an old aeroplane, which itself has caught fire it's that hot!
Enjoy Pakistan, I did. Simon Date: Sat, 08 Apr 2000 08:24:13 GMT
In fact Karachi was one real culture shock after Dubai: the relative wealth turned to almost universal poverty, lack of public transport to hundreds of multi-coloured rickety old buses stuffed full with 15 UScent fares, cleanliness to stench of spiced cattle dung, very bad driving to complete suicidal, total security to common murder (at least going by the newspapers) with shotgun-toting guards at petrol stations, the motorcycles from Honda CD200s to CG125s & CD70s (made here - there are virtually no big bikes), and continuous runs for me. The bike arrived by air a day after me in Karachi, but it was another four days before I could get my leg over it. It took that long to clear customs and would have been more than double had it not been for Dr Mohammed Ashraf, a police medical officer for Sind Province - he runs a clinic in the evenings too. He gave up these days of his life in pursuit of my bike - I sure owe him one for that and we saved the handling charges too so clearing the bike cost just $60.
The ride up the Indus River valley through Sind Province was hair-raising and I only found out afterwards that foreigners should get an escort through this 800km stretch. How about both sides of a dual carriageway being used for 2 way traffic. Donkey and carts coming at you at 100km/h, in the midle of the night and they don't come with lights (shouldn't of course be riding at this time but you know how it goes sometimes...). 'Might is right' on the roads and bus drivers run you right off them rather than slow down to wait until you pass - thankfully there was always some type of hard shoulder to escape to. The horns of vehicles are amazing with such a wide variety: The villages looked right out of the Middle Ages - dark crooked wood-framed huts lining the main road spilling out their multi-coloured fruits (the area is big on mangoes and lemons) and pump-action wells at the side of the road. The Indus civilisation dates from 500,000BC. But what a reception I had! A crowd immediately gathered whenever I stopped. Stopping for petrol or a drink to rehydrate (the heat is stifling) takes at least an hour because refusal of hospitality is simply not an option for them and I'm usually invited into share a meal. On one such occasion I was then shown a famous ancient library full of Korans written in gold leaf of the days when the Muslims first came to convert the Asian sub-continent about 1200 years ago. Another time I met a chief in the National People's Party when his son and nephew invited me to stay with them for a night. This was as I was repairing the new tool roll that HD Dubai gave - I managed to hole it and rip it off the bike. (Then the next day I destroyed it completely - that's how it goes....) Another time I was introduced to a guy who swallowed cobra snakes whole before pulling them out of his stomach again - there must have been a hundred locals gathered around as we drank tea and he told me what his jars contained. One was full of a powder to extend your penis - explained with great gesticulations, I declined the offer saying I didn't need it - who knows what would have happened... I took a detour to Lahore to make use of a motorway (built by Naraz Sharrif the former President as a personal project who's just been locked away for life for corruption) and save the wear on the bike, only to find that motorcycles are not allowed on it. I was loving Pakistan immensely and was thoroughly peeved off to have it spoilt by this needless discrimination - I took my anger out on two nearby policeman and one really took the bait ('how can you says this is crazy law, this Pakistan law') but I backed off when he showed signs of wanting to lock me up. Pillion passengers are also banned and I have forcibly criticised this anti-bike discrimination in the media. |
[131kB 480x640] JY&LC* |
Islamabad is nothing like any other Pakistan city, built specially to plan in 1975 for government offices. Modern and clean. It is at the foot of the Karakoram Mountains.
I've achieved a fair amount of press/TV coverage already and after my mountain jaunt I'll go to Peshawa to meet Usman where he offered to help with fundraising - he wrote a prayer for us "to Allah or God" about this within an hour of my arriving here at a small Honda dealer.
Yesterday the bike got a good service but I lost a part for the carb and had visions of waiting days for the bit to come from the nearwest Dellorto dealer - but low and behold a bike mechanic fashioned a new bit from plastic and now it runs perfect again.
A donation of $550 came from the Emirates Motor Sport Federation just a few hours before flying out of Dubai bringing the total in that country up to now to $2300. Perhaps a realistic aim would be $2000 in each country.
I've been asking people here what they think of Pakistan's new military government. Everyone supports it because they are fed up with democracy. Hard words eh? This is because the tossers who have been running the country for so long, who are often industry chiefs too, have been lining their own pockets and keeping education to a minimum level - 70% of the population is illiterate - so people don't know what is going on. So many people still have no cooking gas or clean water. Their support for a change, even if it is the Army, is at least understandable. Let's hope the literates take some responsibility in this glorious country, they desrve a decent government..
Furthermore I have to say the current warnings by various western governments against tourist visits to Pakistan seem to be totally unwarranted. I have been treated like a special guest, as all foreigners are. Come here and I guarantee you a fantastic reception and totally memorable time. These people are just brilliant.
So there.
Right I'm off now to ride up the Karakoram Highway on the ancient Silk Route - I even heard that the pass to China is open - this is really tempting because this crossing to China is supposed to be very easy... but that may mean missing India which is not really an option. Best not to venture off the tarmac road though because this is where Tribal Law applies, which in our terms means no law at all! There will be some off-road sections so I'm leaving most of my luggage here at the youth hostel.
Until next time, Inshallah
Simon
 [131kB 640x480] JY&LC |
* | Hello
Simon Milward gave us your address when we met him in Islamabad. We took some digital pictures of him and thought you might like them. Best wishes Jonny Young and Liz Curtis |
22 April
Now I'm suffering from malaria (as diagnosed by a local doctor) in Islamabad after my Karakoram Highway (KKH) experience. The symptoms are largely the same as the side effects of taking the preventative medicine: nausea, vomiting, headaches, muscle aches (for me this was the worst), fever and shivering. You feel completely lethargic - and I had lunch with and made a presentation to the local Rotary at the height of it!
My Karakoram Experience will be written up in more detail elsewhere. The KKH was built in 1966-1975 by the Frontier Workers Organisation, a partnership between China and Pakistan. Presently there is a slight detour at the start due to the confrontation with India over Muslim Kashmir, which took me over a 2000m pass between Murree and Abbottabad.
From there the scenery changed as the km peeled off becoming more and more mountainous with rock graffiti in support of the Jammu & Kashmir Liberation Front (JKLF) freedom fighters. I rode through lush farmland where marijuana plants were growing like weeds at the side of the road before linking up with the Indus River valley. The scenery was the best I'd ever seen, with each rounding of the mountainside revealing a staggering new feast for the eyes.
Cows were mating on the KKH, children selling all manner of local produce including stones and trout, waterfalls splashing over the road (used as the local car wash and feet-cool off). The trucks still did not move for me, thankfully I never had to escape to the wrong side of the road - the several hundred metre drop to the Indus - though some goats appeared to as my bike came past. At one stage I concentrated on missing a donkey in the middle of the road, worried about which way it would turn, but did not take my eyes off it. This is definitely the wrong thing to do as I came to an emergency stop about an inch from its nose and it never flinched until two seconds had elapsed. My heart was in my mouth.
It took two days to get to Gilgit, the main administrative town in the area where I took the opportunity to get some more media work done. Here I met Mel who is riding an Enfield 350 back to the UK from India. We rode another 200km to Passu and stayed in a $1 guest house at the foot of a glacier. I would have gone to the Kunjerab pass the next day had I not been up all night with the runs - poor Mel had to put up with the sound effects! In hindsight this was the first symptoms of malaria. My clutch cable nipple broke up here - easily fixed.
By this time I had jacked the bike up into the off-road position (changing the rear mount position of the shocks giving an extra 6cm of clearance and by golly does it chew up and spit out anything that is thrown at it in this position, though being a bit on the short side I dropped it a few times, once in front of the newspaper photographer), but had lost the chain tensioner roller (sorry John, managed to get a new one made here in Islamabad for a few $), and the tyres had noticeably worn down.
I was having such a great relaxing time, gently biking along with the Enfield and stopping for tea, that I spent a few more days than I'd planned for. On the way back down the KKH I crossed the Shangra Pass in welcome torrential rain to Swat Valley at sunset and took tea with the army personnel there, who were more interested in any whisky I was carrying than my Millennium-Ride stickers! (The Jameson's was finished in Istanbul.) The few villages were simply mud and water pools, but it was really off-roading.
Swat Valley is the cradle of Buddhism, a lush farmland area and favourite of the Pakistani's for their Summer breaks. After a day or two here I went to Peshawar, just 50km from the Khyber Pass (closed to foreigners) and main road to Kabul in Afghanistan. With a German and Czech guy I visited the smugglers bazaar where we were shown Kalashnikov rifles for $100, pistols for $20, and could have bought any hards drugs we wanted. War and drugs go together. People were telling us to leave the area because it was so dangerous here, indeed this was one spot where tribal law applied. We did not have chance to see the opium sellers, nor the wasting addicts sprawled out dying, nor the anti-tank missiles and rocket launchers, because a policeman expressed the firm wish to escort us out.
I did manage to raise $100 for charity in Peshawar though - it could have been $300 if I had played my cards correctly. Back in Islamabad, and in the last few days, I am trying to raise the full $2000 on the premise that if a poor country like Pakistan can come up with this amount it will create pressure in future countries to do more. A donation from Shell companies in Pakistan will be $500 minimum and I have seen a selection of government secretaries and companies.
I have quite taken to Pakistan, not least because there is so much to do for democracy here. Oh to be a Pakistani, I'd love to get stuck in and help build decent democracy! According to western women the men here are really handsome (slim and all that, many have waistlines like ballet dancers) and the young women, if you manage to see their faces, are like angels.
Medecins sans Frontieres have an office in Peshawar which I understand services the team working in Afghanistan, though I didn't have time to contact them while I was there. I would have liked to go up to Afghanistan, even though there is nothing there at all after it was blown to bits by the Russians and their own civil war. I am arranging a meeting with a local doctor (met at the Rotary Club) who thinks that the Riders for Health Programme may be suitable for Pakistan. Health delivery is definitely a burning issue here.
I'm staying in my tent at the Tourist Campsite, but hoping to be on the road to India by next Tuesday (doubt it though). I've spent much longer in this really interesting country than I had planned and don't regret a minute of it, even if it does mean riding through the Indian monsoon and 50 degrees in Delhi.
Simon
(27.4 Since written I came to Lahore, a big city near the India border, and after a disasterous go at getting some funds, I played the tourist for a day, while staying at Filleti's Hotel courtesy of the Pakistan Tourist Development Corporation. Off to the border tonight)
This interim report is intended for those who support the Millennium Motorcycle Ride. Share this dream while raising funds for medical health care registered charities Médecins Sans Frontières (worldwide) and Riders for Health (Gambia appeal). For 20 Euro/US$ + goodwill donation you get a commemorative pin badges and this regular email updates. Corporate sponsors welcome.
PLEASE LINK: www.millennium-ride.com
photos © Simon Milward
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