Simple - the road stops but the smiles begin! But more about this shortly.
On 26 September, 2012, I finally fulfulled a longheld dream to cross the border from China into Pakistan via the Karakoram Highway (fondly known by the locals as the "KKH"). We left the hotel just before 8 in the morning to arrive at the Tashkurgan Border Office when it opened. By this time, a light scattered snow-rain had started and the temperature had dropped to below 10C. I was freezing and wet as I queued up to enter the Border Office. Along with our small group, there were several Pakistani traders loaded up with goods from China standing in the queue, waiting to return home.
Predictably, the Chinese Border officials were not familiar with my Hong Kong SAR passport (which contained my Pakistan visa) and kept flicking through the pages back and forth, squinting at the pages, and huddling in a group to consult with each other. After showing them my Hong Kong ID card and Re-Entry card and flashing lots of smiles and understanding nods (the new term I have coined is "obsequiescence"), they finally let me through rather begrudgingly. But this was not to be the end of it. After we all assembled back in our bus, one Border official comes back onto the bus and demanded another check of my passport and various identity cards. And then finally, they let me - and my group - go. This was also where we said goodbye to our Chinese guide.
The Tashkurgan Border Office is the last border control before heading into Pakistan but there is still another long drive (almost three hours) along the KKH to the actual physical border between China and Pakistan. This part of the KKH is tarmac-ed and the drive is smooth and fast. As per the standard practice, a Chinese border official boarded our bus to accompany us on the journey to the physical border, ostensibly to make sure we all really go into Pakistan - and then, what happens - this guy promptly falls asleep once he's on the bus!
The physical border between China and Pakistan is marked by a large stone arch, not unlike the ancient forts along the Great Wall. The border also represents the beginning of the Khunjerab Pass which is a narrow but flat opening between the Karakoram Mountains, situated in the Karakoram National Park of Pakistan. Once we crossed under the arch, the tarmac abruptly stops and the road becomes a path of sand and rocks. We're in Pakistan. A few minutes later, we are at the checkpoint and a couple of Pakistani officials come out to greet our bus. But no one boards the bus or asks for our passports. They take a quick look at us and wave us along our way with friendly smiles. We stop the bus and all get out to take a photo of the border and the stone arch - we have been warned that the Chinese don't allow photo-taking on their side but the Pakistanis are relaxed about it. It is still snowing slightly; the skies are grey and it is bitterly cold.
So it is that I leave my Motherland with a last memory of 21st century infrastructure but grim and suspicious officialdom, and enter a foreign land where the roads are bumpy (or non-existent) but greeted by friendly smiles. Soon the weather also picks up and the skies turn blue. (Check out the photos of the KKH - the landscape is truly stunning - and this is coming from someone who usually doesn't appreciate nature).
All along the Pakistani side of the KKH, groups of Pakistani workmen (often supervised by a Chinese head honcho) are working on different stretches of the road, either to build tunnels, bridges or lay the tarmac. It looks like a decades-long project and most of the highway is still rocky and bumpy. BTW, Karakoram means "black crumbling rock".
By around 4pm Pakistan time (5pm Beijing time), we arrive at the border town of Sust and go through formal immigration formalities (again a quick scan of the visa), and check into our "0.1 star" hotel. Sust's population: ~500.
