Day 7 in Pakistan - we need to go from Gilgit to Islamabad and it was 13 interminable hours on the road starting at 7:30am. In the morning, we pass by the spot where the Gilgit and Indus Rivers merge and where the Himalayas, Hindu Kush and Karakoram mountains meet. I'm not a "nature" lover by nature, but the landscape is impressive and there's a stone plaque errected on the side of the highway that marks the location. Lunch is a quick vegetarian meal at a small roadside inn that faces the imposing Rakaposhi Peak.
Afterwards, it's all downhill literally and metaphorically, and an exhausting bus ride through tiny towns, winding through dusty and rocky roads hewn against steep gorges, occasionally stopping for a bathroom break and to stretch one's legs. As usual, bathroom breaks are best executed behind a strategic clump of bushes or a large rock - at least one doesn't have to suffer the dank and dirty floors and the smells (forget about any running water). There are many dismal half-built concrete or brick houses along the highway (the KKH continues) as well as small roadside mosques so that travellers may stop and conduct their regular prayers. And occasionally, our journey was interrupted by accidents on the road (thank goodness - other people's accidents and not ours - one bus in front of us gets one of its wheels stuck between the wooden planks of a suspension bridge) and the obligatory stops at checkpoints where our guide has to hand the police a list of the names of everyone on our bus.
We arrive at Besham at almost 9pm. I am cranky and creaky, and my nose is still all stuffed up (flu for the last 3 days). Besham is in the middle of nowhere and just a convenient midway point between Gilgit and Islamabad. It is hardly even a town. Just a few lightbulbs in front of sad and rusty shops, selling bad fruit and plastic goods. In these small towns, there may not be any hotels but one can usually count on good ole PTDC to offer up a B&B. The PTDC is the Pakistan Tourism Development Corporation. I had already stayed at one PTDC establishment in Sust (the 0.1* "hotel" at the border town) and was not looking forward to a repeat. But there's no choice. The PTDC at Besham is "strategically" located next to a hydroelectric plant on one side and army barracks on the other. The PTDC Besham is grim and depressing at night but the staff all seem helpful and energetic despite our late arrival and my room is large and bright enough, although there is no hot water and the bathroom is too dark for me to figure out whether there may be cockroaches or other undesirables. After a miserable dinner at the PTDC restaurant (gelatinous cicken and corn soup and over-fried chicken and chops), I went back to my room. It was the night of the India-Australia Twenty20 cricket match and the locals are still gathered around the single TV set in the lobby, including the local security/police with their AK-47s. This is another night where I slept in my sleeping bag liner (no way am I touching that blanket) with the head torch by my side.
I woke up surprisingly refreshed with the burble of the Indus River coming through the window, having slept through the night and my cold has gone. I walk outside the PTDC, the sky is clear and bright and everything is looking up again. Onwards to Islamabad (7 hour drive).
