Babusar pass with armed police in a truck with bars

Babusar pass with armed police in a truck with bars

The British foreign office recommended against travel in the area between Reikot bridge and Islamabd so we waited until first light before setting off along paved and dirt roads... it was hard going and the sun was baking hot even at 8am. We almost made it to Chilas before being picked up by the police, 'for our safety', and taken to the Babusar pass checkpoint. Here we were promised a police lift to the top of the pass and they refused to let us cycle it. Time went by and the police lift didn’t materialise so we started hitching a lift in any passing truck. When we got one all of a sudden a policeman with AK 47 jumped in the front seat, secured our bikes flat in the back and we were to stay out of sight in front of the bikes in the back of the truck.

Ok well that works, but what’s the fuss all about, we were about to find out... 

Men with big wooden poles with whips on the end were waiting at a broken section of the road chasing the truck to see if they could get us in the back then we saw some more with sling shots with stones looking for a target and lots of guys clearly looking for trouble. 

Yep lucky we had armed police looking after us. They even close the road at night, it’s a known trouble spot. 

We were let out at the top of the pass late in the day with too many miles to cover to reach our destination, but we peddled like mad and as night was closing in we were passing through a village with a burned out tanker on the side of the road and no decent place to stay and groups of people in the streets looking at us pedal into town. With the light fading and no place to camp, steep rocky hillsides all around we had no choice but to find somewhere to sleep. 

Within a few minutes of stopping we were approached by a gang of village elders and wizards (white robes and head gear) who proceeded to ask politely what we were doing here and what religion we were). Well with our best British charm we were then cordially invited to dine at the local mosque with the elders who turned out to be Islamic preachers, just returned from Somalia. 

Well it’s never boring cycling here that’s for sure. 

We had the wash routine, feet and all slippers for the Mosque then tea and biscuits with the senior folks before their prayers and sermons, (translated for us), then the best meal we had eaten since arriving in Pakistan. Thank you Mosque men. 

A bit unnervingly midway through prayers a guy walked into the Mosque wielding an AK 47 semi automatic rifle. Nobody else seemed concerned so we just watched him with some apprehension, were we being setup? but he just sat down and left after the service and we assumed he must be the police, (its an offence to carry weapons if you are not the police here, but that doesn’t stop them).

We were kindly informed that there are no absolute rules in Pakistan... if you have money, if you don’t then just don’t get caught. They were talking about the rules of the road but it appeared to apply to everything. It is absolute chaos here where the rule of 'critical mass' seemed to be the only one worth sticking to. If there are enough of you then all go together and the other guys stop. 

We were escorted back to our 'hotel' by the wizard, where an armed guard was posted outside for our protection and we were mobbed with selfie and interview requests before retiring for a well earned sleep. 

Early morning and we had to get going again, so we cooked up porridge in the loo before setting off. We had a long way to go that day and were very much still in the steep mountain areas, the road was up and down a lot with many non tarmac areas of loose stones and huge potholes with rivers crossing the road, unusually just before the next big uphill, really hard work.

It was so rough I found that I had broken three spokes in my back wheel requiring a stop by the roadside in the heat to replace them. They were in cassette side rear wheel which of course means removing the wheel tyre inner tube and cassette (not easy!). Before cycling as much as we could before once again the light faded on us and we were found ourselves in another odd town that had  a 'Glorious Continental Hotel WITH WIFI!' 
The first internet connection we had in about a week so we booked in. No sooner had we a cool drink in hand then the local politician and support arrived to get a picture with these strange British cyclists passing through their village. 

We were still in an area where the British foreign office advisory said was dangerous and once again the hotel manager without telling us organised an armed guard to stand outside our room all night. Weird experience and odd in that we didn’t feel threatened but were clearly not aware of all the dangers around I guess. 

6am the next morning we were on the road closing in on Abbottobad where we had a recommendation to stay with a family from the Czech cyclists we passed in Gilgit. The only other cycling tourists we had seen.