Pakistan
Pakistan is a country of extremes - much like India in many ways, from the sweaty foetid swamp that is West Wharf in Karachi to the stunning high lands of the Himalayas. Working in Karachi I found myself staying in the Sind Club a bizarre relic from colonial days with more snooker/billiards tables in one room than I ever saw in my life. I slept on the upper floor and my room had it`s own `boy` - older than myself - who appeared instantly from below stars if anything like a cup of tea was wanted.
Out on the streets there were moustachioed roadside barbers wearing what I could only describe as baggy pyjamas but also street letter writers who will read or write a letter for any individual who needs it done but doesn`t have the education. For a price, of course. Ginger beards are quite prolific as are crocheted skull-caps. Ultra decorated lorries and coaches are the norm and each one vies with the next to try to outdo them - the pictures below will give you an idea. As will the pictures of the rubbish and filth that exists in the waterways adjacent to the open sea. The local carrion eagles and kites clearly make a good living because I have never seen so many raptors in one place.
I had to fly up from Karachi to the capital - Islamabad and on the flight were men returning from a spell of working in the Gulf States. One right in front of me because very aggressive at one point but his companions on either side rapidly subdued him with a garotting cord around his neck!. Islamabad was entirely different from old Karachi. A new custom-built capital inland and at a much higher altitude but the roadside markets persisted alog with longhaired goats and camel drawn delivery carts.
My work took me to a factory in Nowsheera, about a 2 hour drive into Northwest Frontier Province, close to the Afghanistan border and the Khyber Pass. The first picture below shows the river section above Fort Attock where both the muddy brown Kabul River (out of Afghanistan)and the peacock blue River Indus (out of the glaciers of the Himalayas) join and flow side by side for about 10 miles before gradually merging downstream. After I had finished discussions at the factory I was invited into the factory manager`s office for lunch - a magnificent spread was laid on BUT it had all been bought from street vendors. Bad move. The two hour journey back to Islamabad was pretty dire as I had a very bad stomach and my transport was a very rattly Ford Transit type van with no prospect of a toilet stop along the way but somehow I made it and the roast goat in the hotel that night was just too tasty to miss.
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