Today really is all about the seven hour drive, and in particular, the four hour drive down the Indus gorge.

 

The first 30km west out of Skardu is out past the turn-off to Satpara Lake and is along a metalled road, and by the side of the wide slow-flowing Indus. On the way we passed some apricots drying on a wall by the side of the road. Apricot growing is big in this part of Pakistan, and as a result, so is the drying of them. Apparently, the ones dried in the open air are essentially fed to cattle in the winter, but those for human consumption are dried in ovens (whatever ‘ovens’ means). Nothing of the apricot is wasted – inside the stone there is a nut – Eidjan’s wife had threaded some onto a string and he shared them with us – very tasty too.

 

Then, just before the gorge starts the road makes a right-angle turn over a planked suspension bridge, indeed, a chap as on it repairing/replacing some of the planks as we crossed over it!

 

Then suddenly you enter the Indus gorge. It is impossible to adequately describe how awe-inspiring and spectacular this road/track is; is difficult to think of any 130km drive anywhere in the world that beats it. For the wholly of that distance the Indus thunders through rapids. There are no pools where the river can rest while it builds up its energy for more rapids, no, it is big raging rapids all the way. Apparently the odd fool has tried to canoe it but no one had got more than thirteen kilometres. In 2006 a bus with over 50 people on board misjudged a bend and fell into the river; despite knowing where the bus went in, no remains of the bus nor of any bodies were ever found. Such is the power if the river. Unfortunately, photographs do not do justice either to the majesty of the gorge or the tormented nature of the river with its constant knots of swirling water. At various points the road crosses the river by a suspension bridge, at other points wires are strung across the river and the locals cross in a wooden trolley, literally pulling themselves across; seriously hair-raising. Where there are villages there are small suspension bridges, many sponsored by the EU to replace the hand-pulled jobs.

 

At one point, across the river were a series of caves where the quartz veins had been mined; you just could not see either how the miners had gotten across the river, nor having done so, how they got up to the mines. Wherever there was a side stream and an area of flattish land there were irrigated crops and habitation - maybe just a couple of houses miles from anywhere, or perhaps a small village. The road itself varies from metalled (rare, except thought small towns such as Dasu) to track to landslip debris. It is invariably ‘single track without passing places’, but pass you do. Despite being a virtual constant series of bends, very occasionally you see a sign saying “BEND” – weird!

  

We had a late lunch at Dasu which seemed to be a friendly little town strung out along the road. Not much to report except an interesting cobbler who, although he did have a small shop, seemed to prefer to do his work on the side of the road.

 

 

Just as the gorge section starts with a planked suspension bridge, so it ends with one too. Then suddenly, around Gilgit, we are on an area of river gravels, hundreds of feet thick. It is here that the three highest mountain ranges in the world –Himalaya, Karakoram and Hindu Kush meet, and there is a monument to recognise the fact. Unfortunately it was raining when we were there – we could see the monument, but not appreciate the mountains at the same time.

 

At Gilgit (as in several other places) we stayed at the PTDC Hotel (Pakistan Tourist Development Corporation), which was just up from the river, which at this point is the Gilgit river and which joins the Indus itself just East of town where the Indus turns South having had to flow essentially E-W to get round the  Nanga Parbit massif. . Ehsan and his family, who as noted earlier, are Ismailis and live in Gilgit (as does Eidjan) and so they went home for the night.

 

After depositing our bags in our room we went for a walk down to the river. Though everything seems calm and friendly now, there is a very considerable army presence because in 2006 there was severe Sunni – Shia conflict and many people were killed. Gilgit and the area around (and especially, the Hunza valley) are principally Shia and Ismaili areas, but there are significant Sunni minorities, particularly in Gilgit town. Gilgit is a major (all right, the only) crossing point of the Indus and Gilgit rivers for traffic heading North up the KKH. As a result, there are three suspension bridges over the rivers, two of which are in town and are closely guarded by police and army. The bridges are the usual affairs with wooden planks for the road surface, and are only wide enough for one vehicle at a time, plus pedestrians if both are careful! However, only one bridge is suitable for lorries and buses, and during that night, a Chinese lorry crashed into the heavy vehicle bridge and destroyed it, though it was never quite clear to us exactly what the term ‘destroyed’ meant. What it did mean though was that no heavy vehicles could get north of Gilgit, ie. up the Northern KKH and into/out of China. This was clearly going to have a major effect on the economy of the area, and it was going to take months before it would be fixed/rebuilt. It goes to show just how precarious life and economy are in these remote areas.

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