Ziarat

The old British hill station of Ziarat was founded as a retreat from Quetta’s summer heat. It nestles in its eponymous valley, surround by ancient juniper forests at an altitude of 2600m, about 130km northeast of Quetta. With a residency, offices and even a sanatorium, it served as the administration’s summer capital, and now carries a slightly worn (though attractive) ‘end of empire’ feel.
Refreshingly cool in summer and almost invariably snow-clad in winter, Ziarat is a relaxing destination and a handy base for exploring the surrounding gorges and balding hills of juniper. Don’t get your hopes up too high, though – this may be lush for stark Balochistan, especially in spring, but northern Pakistan it isn’t.

Wagah

The border between Pakistan and India is located 30km east of Lahore at Wagah.

Whether or not you’re going to India it’s worth making a special trip to the border to watch the amazing closing-of-the-border (flag-lowering) ceremony that takes place each day. If you’ve got time, see it from both sides of the fence, as the objective of each side’s soldiers is to out-march, out-salute and out-shout each other (if you’re crossing the border you’ll only get to see it from the Indian side).

If you’ve got any questions once at the Wagah border, don’t hesitate to ask Mr Latif, the friendly owner of the Latif Old Book Shop.

Taxila

One of South Asia’s richest archaeologicalsites, Taxila is a must-see trip from Islamabad, particularly if you have an interest in Buddhism and the art of Gandhara. The city excavations, most of which are found around the museum, are open to the public, along with dozens of smaller sites over a 25-sq-km area.

Gandhara is the historical name for the Peshawar Plain, and Taxila has always been one of Gandhara’s more important cities. In the 6th century BC, the Achaemenians made Takshasila (Taxila) the Gandharan capital, at a site now called Bhir Mound. In 326 BC Alexander the Great paused here en route to India. The Mauryan emperor Ashoka, a patron of Buddhism, built a university here, to which pilgrims and scholars came from all over Asia. In about 180 BC, Bactrian Greeks developed a ‘new’ Taxila, at the site called Sirkap.

In the 1st century AD came the Kushans, building their own city at the Sirsukh site. Until the 3rd century Taxila was the cultured capital of an empire stretching across the subcontinent and into Central Asia. It was the birthplace of a striking fusion of Greek and Indian art, and also the place from which Buddhism spread into China. The city fell into obscurity after it was destroyed by White Huns in the 5th century. The modern-era excavation of the site was led by Sir John Marshall between the years of 1913 and 1934.

Swat

In a region full of dramatic scenery, Swat stands out as a particularly beautiful corner of northern Pakistan. A broad fertile valley just touched by the monsoon, it stretches nearly 200km from the Malakand Pass to the high reaches of Swat Kohistan. A magnet for hippies in the 1970s (‘the Switzerland of the East’), it’s often overlooked by today’s travellers, although not by domestic tourists who flock here every summer for the clean air and fine landscapes.

Rich farmland fans out along the wide Swat River basin, centred on the twin towns of Mingora and Saidu Sharif that together form Swat’s urban hub. It’s hardly the first big town in Swat, as the valley was the site of many previous civilisations, including the Kushan kingdom of Gandhara and the Hindu Shahis, each of whom left behind a ­multitude of historical sites to be discovered. North of here, the mountains start to close in past Madyan, squeezing the river into a leaping torrent, and forcing villages down to the banks or up the valley walls. The deodar-forested, snowcapped northern peaks are dominated by 5918m Falaksair. The Pashtuns of the valley floor become replaced by Kohistanis (literally ‘people of the mountains’) and nomadic Gujars who tend flocks on the high pastures. It’s a popular area for hiking, and its streams are thickly stocked with trout.

Swat is accessible year-round, although it is snowbound from Bahrain northwards between the months of November and March (even then transportation is occasionally possible and some hotels are open). Summer is mostly fine and hot with some rain in July and August.

Skardu

The Indus barely seems to move across the immense, flat Skardu Valley, 40km long, 10km wide and carpeted with silvery grey sand dunes. In between dust storms the land seems cleansed and freeze-dried, and the light is intense. The brown mountains give no hint of the white giants beyond. Skardu, at 2290m, is on a ledge at the foot of Karpochu, a rock sticking 300m out of the plain.
The town has been a mountaineers’ haunt for over 150 years, and a military headquarters since Partition, but it’s also the base for many classic Karakoram treks and even some good day trips. Midsummer is prime mountaineering season, when jeeps and hotel space may be hard to find. Walking and trekking can be pleasant even in October, when prices start to fall and the weather is clear and cold. From November to March, temperatures drop to freezing.

Hotels get booked out in the second week of August, when Skardu hosts a big tournament of Baltistan’s polo teams to celebrate Pakistan’s Independence Day.

Rohtas Fort

Some 16km northwest of Jhelum, colossal Rohtas Fort is an extraordinary example of military architecture. It was started in 1543 by the Pashtun ruler Sher Shah Suri, to protect the strategic Peshawar to Calcutta (now Kolkata) road from the Mughals and their allies. He never lived to see its completion and work was carried on by succeeding rulers. However, it was soon made redundant when Akbar moved his frontier to Attock and built a new fort there.
The vast fort is now in ruins except for the crenulated outer walls and most of its 12 gates and 68 bastions. The best-preserved remains are to the west; walk through the town to the westernSohal Gate to start your explorations. Built to an irregular plan on hilly ground, its 12m-thick terraced ramparts have a perimeter of more than 4km and vary in height from 10m to 18m. You can still walk along some of them but they are crumbling, so watch your step. An internal wall separates the inner fort (or citadel for the elite) at the northwest from the outer fort of soldiers and citizens, where the sleepy town still exists.

Little remains of the interior, but there are two pavilions of the haveli of Man Singh(governor of Lahore and a general in the time of his son-in-law Akbar the Great), which you can climb for a view over the whole fort. To the west, at the pinnacle of the outer wall, a high stone platform marks the burj (execution tower); victims would be thrown from here into the ditch below. Two gates in the northern wall lead down to freshwater wells and the Kahan River. You could spend two or three hours exploring the grounds. Bring a hat, and although drinks can be bought in the town, it’s wise to carry your own.

Quetta

The provincial capital of Balochistan, Quetta has a quite different air from almost anywhere else in Pakistan. It’s an atmosphere borne of its relative geographic isolation. Set in a mountainous amphitheatre and surrounded by stony deserts, the city seems to have its face turned away from the rest of the country, appearing more interested in nearby Afghanistan than the affairs of faraway Islamabad. This is a frontier town, pure and simple.

As befits its location, Quetta’s inhabitants are a diverse and fascinating mix. Around 70% are Pashtuns, with the balance made up by ethnic Balochis and Brahuis. Mohajirs and Punjabis are also surprisingly well represented, while since the 1980s the city has hosted a sizable Afghan refugee population (most notably the Shiite Hazaras, with their near-Mongolian features).

Quetta’s isolation means that it attracts relatively few travellers, and the majority of those use it as a staging post on the overland trail between Iran and India. Travelling in either direction, the city is an eye-opener. From relatively urbane Iran, Quetta abruptly announces the arrival of the subcontinent, with its turbaned Pashtun tribesmen, women in burkas, and honking rickshaws. Travelling in the other direction,Balochistan can seem a wild and dusty place after the humidity and greenery ofPunjab.

At an altitude of almost 1700m, Quetta is cooler than most parts of Pakistan in summer but the road southwest to Taftan and Zahedan can still be hot and heavy going. In the thick of winter it’s bone-chillingly cold and it can snow in January.

Peshawar

Peshawar (pronounced pu-shah-wur) conjures images of romance, intrigue and danger – the archetypal frontier town. Sat at the foot of the Khyber Pass, it has been an important trading town and staging post for invasions for centuries, its fortunes often more closely linked to affairs in Kabul than the flat lands of the Indus and Punjab. Even today, the Pakistani government maintains an often tenuous hold over the local Pashtun population. Recent elections have returned a provincial government sympathetic to the Taliban. West and south of the city, highways lead into the autonomous Tribal Areas where government writ vanishes the second you step off the main road: visitors to the Khyber Pass must be accompanied by an armed tribal escort.

Atmosphere is all in Peshawar. The old city is a warren of bazaars, where samovars dispense green tea into tiny enamelled pots, which are raced by eager boys to reclining merchants through an air thick with the smell of kebabs, rickshaws fumes and the cacophony of an endless parade of (mostly male) humanity. Modernity abruptly collides with tradition – there are more autorickshaws than camels and mobile phones are everywhere, but Peshawar’s past remains persuasive, tangible, visible.

Away from the throng of the old city, the British cantonment has shady boulevards, churches, army quarters and lavish high-walled homes. The city’s post-Partition face includes well-to-do University Town and the sprawling administrative-residential township of Hayatabad.

Peshawar’s close relationship with Afghanistan continues. Waves of refugees swelled the population in the 1980s, making up a sizable minority. Many still live in the refugee camps outside the city limits. Much of the city’s exotic character is derived from this Afghan connection, as is its reputation for intrigue (and occasional instability).

Modern Peshawar almost chokes on its popularity. Amid tough competition, it makes a strong bid for the most polluted city in Pakistan. Everyone seems to be in business, and politics and religion are often on the street. A conservative city, but one buzzing with life, Peshawar remains a fascinating place to get lost in.

Nathiagali

At a lofty 2500m and thickly forested with pine, walnut, oak and maple, Nathiagali (naat-ya-ga-li) is the prettiest and most popular of the Galis. Dungagali, a small settlement, is about an hour’s walk down the road or the ridge. There’s a small ski resort at nearby Kalabagh. Some hotels may change major currencies but it’s highly advisable to change money in Islamabad beforehand.

Muzaffarabad

AJ&K’s capital was just 25km from the epicentre of the devastating 2005 earthquake and the city is still recovering, with reconstruction and temporary shelter still much in evidence. Muzaffarabad used to be just another stop on the road to Srinagar – but a strategic one, at the confluence of the Neelam and Jhelum Rivers. Its sole tourist attraction is a 17th-century fort built by the town’s founder, a chief of the Chak tribe named Muzaffar Khan, to ward off the Mughal armies of Emperor Akbar.

Murree

Murree sits high above its surroundings, making the views panoramic and the air fresh, but there isn’t much to do apart from stroll around or shop. A faded colonial aroma lingers, although many ugly concrete towers now dominate the town. Murree has gradually become more and more built-up and congested over recent years, which probably explains the dwindling number of foreign visitors. Still, there are some pretty walks in the area.

Multan

The largest town of lower Punjab and the centre of Pakistan’s main cotton-growing area, Multan is noted for its remarkable shrines and mosques.

Little is known of Multan’s pre-Islamic history, although it’s thought to date back some 4000 years. Alexander the Great is believed to have captured it around 324 BC. In AD 641 Chinese traveller Xuan Zang recorded a magnificent Hindu temple to Shiva, of which there is now no trace. This and other Hindu shrines made Multan an important pilgrimage centre even before the Islamic era. The Sanskrit Rig-Veda is believed to have been written here.

Multan was the first town of Punjab to be captured by Mohammed bin Qasim (in 711). Ruled at the time by a Brahmin dynasty, it eventually became a major Islamic centre. Since then it has attracted more mystics and holy men than perhaps anywhere else on the subcontinent and today is dominated by their shrines and tombs.

It remained, at least nominally, under the Baghdad caliphate until the end of the 12th century. From then on until the early 16th century it was repeatedly stormed by invaders from central and west Asia. It returned to relative peace from 1528 to 1748 under the Mughals, when it became renowned for its architecture, music, ceramics and artistry.

The city passed through various rival dynasties into the hands of the Sikhs until the British stormed the citadel in 1848–49 after scoring a direct hit on the city ammunitions dump. The two-week ‘Siege of Mooltan’ later became known as the Second Sikh War.

Multan is located about 95km north of Bahawalpur.

Moenjodaro

Over 165 sites related to the Indus Valley civilisation have been described by archaeologists, but World Heritage–listed Moenjodaro is the undisputed jewel in the crown. The largest of the ancient cities of Pakistan, its ruins are spread over 250 hectares.

Mardan

In the heart of the Peshawar Valley, Mardan is an old British military cantonment, famous as the birthplace of the Guide Corps, an elite border regiment founded in the 1840s. It’s a fairly sleepy place these days (horse-drawn tongas are still popular taxis) with little to offer in itself, but its location makes it a potential base for exploring the wealth of Gandharan sites that litter the valley.

Lahore

Although Lahore may not be Pakistan’s capital city, it wins hands down as its cultural, intellectual and artistic hub. If history and architecture are your passion there’s an evocative mix, from formidable Mughal monuments to faded legacies of the British Raj. Indeed, even a ramble around the Old City can unfold into a mini-adventure. For those in search of spiritual sustenance, Lahore has qawwali (Islamic devotional singing) and Sufism (Islamic mysticism) that will blow your mind.

Pakistan is crazy about cricket and one way of breaking the ice with Lahorites is to strike up a conversation about the game. Lahore – which, incidentally, is home to former cricket great turned politician Imran Khan – sometimes serves as the venue for high-profile international matches. If there’s one on during your stay it’s worth experiencing it as much for its wildly ecstatic spectators as for the game itself.

Over the years Lahore has burgeoned into a bustling and increasingly polluted metropolis with festering social undercurrents, but it also has some of the most defiantly serene architecture and gardens on the subcontinent. It takes more than just a couple of days to get to know this splendid city, so don’t regard it merely as a jumping-off point to nearby India. And whatever you do, make absolutely sure your stay in Lahore includes an afternoon on the outskirts in Wagah and at least one Thursday.

Kohat

This army town and divisional headquarters south of Peshawar has a cantonment, a huge British-era fort (off limits), the mazar (shrine) of Sufi teacher Haji Bahadar Ali Abdullah Shah (located east of Tehsil Gate), and a noisy Pashtun bazaar. It’s terribly hot in summer and not especially interesting, although men can cool off in a pool east of the fort.

Karachi

Although Karachi lost its crown as Pakistan’s capital to upstart  Islamabad and the country’s cultural elite look towards Lahore, Karachi is the undisputed heart of the nation’s economy. A true world mega-city, greater Karachi is spread over an ever-expanding 3500 sq km, ­ perpetually sucking in workers from across the country. If you want to make it anywhere, the saying goes, you have to head for Karachi.

As a result, Karachi is one of the most diverse and cosmopolitan cities in Pakistan, with ethnic Sindhis matched by large numbers of Punjabis, Pashtuns and other nationalities. After Partition, Karachi received significant numbers of Mohajirs, who have since become the key players in Karachi politics under the MQM party that dominates the city. Karachi also has significant Christian and Hindu communities, and is a centre for Zoroastrianism.

This diverse mix doesn’t always rub along well, and has given Karachi an unenviable reputation for civil unrest and communal violence. The 1980s and ’90s were punctuated by regular outbreaks of rioting, and although these are now largely a thing of the past, real tensions still exist. The shadow of 9/11 has also fallen on Karachi, with attacks on Western targets and minority Shiites from Al-Qaeda–inspired extremists.

Few travellers choose to visit Karachi these days, and the insane traffic and frequent power cuts from an overstretched infrastructure can make any stay a challenge, particularly in the stifling heat of summer. But there’s a definite buzz here, and a few days in Karachi can tell you more about life in modern Pakistan than any number of historic mosques or mountain treks.

Kaghan Valley

Embraced by the cool forested peaks of the Lesser Himalaya, this 160km-long valley drained by the burbling Kunhar River is one of Pakistan’s most popular summer holiday spots. The verdant valley is not without its problems of crowding, litter and gouging hoteliers during the brief holiday season, but outside the summer peak, you will find the promised tranquillity though many of the hotels will have closed their doors.

The 2005 Kashmir earthquake devastated the town of Balakot and destroyed many roads in the steep-sided Kaghan Valley. On-going land slippage and subsequent savage winters have hindered roadworks, which were frequent enough even before the earthquake, and restoration of phone and power lines. Rebuilding was very much in evidence at the time of writing but it will be many years before this region returns to normal in terms of ­access and accommodation.

At the valley head is the 4175m Babusar Pass into the Indus Valley at Chilas. In 1892 the British established a supply line across this pass, one of only two to Gilgit from the outside world. The other, the Burzil Pass from Kashmir, was closed by the 1949 ceasefire, leaving just the Babusar to link the NA with the rest of Pakistan until the KKH was built. It’s open for several weeks each summer, a challenging alternative to the KKH between Mansehra and Chilas. Work has commenced on improving the road, particularly on the Chilas side, but it is expected to take several years before this becomes a viable short cut to Chilas for general transport.

The valley population consists of a string of villages along the river, plus a biannual migration of Gujars, who fan out with their animals into the high pastures of Hazara(and Swat and Chitral) in May and June, returning in September and October.

Several treks out of the valley are described in Lonely Planet’s Trekking in the Karakoram & Hindukush.

Islamabad & Rawalpindi

The so-called twin cities of Islamabad and Rawalpindi are commonly viewed as one unit, and indeed, one day the two will physically merge. However, these twins, with separate ancestry and distinct personalities, are far from identical. Islamabad is a late-20th-century capital laid out in straight lines and right angles: a proud metric showcase of government and administration. Rawalpindi, on the other hand, grew from a ramshackle backwater village to a sprawling hub on the Grand Trunk Rd during the 19th century.

The twins’ personalities are rather like chalk and cheese: Islamabad is patently more subdued and suburban with broad avenues, grassy parkland, shiny restaurants and just a whiff of the exasperating human and mechanical crush that epitomises most subcontinental cities. For those with a penchant for the adrenaline-pumping hullabaloo that a typical South Asian metropolis delivers, all that awaits in Rawalpindi – affectionately dubbed ‘Pindi’ – a mere 15km away.

Neither city is a major tourist drawcard in its own right – most foreign travellers only pause here to arrange visas/permits or use it as a jumping-off point to other destinations – yet not far away are the fascinating archaeological digs around the Gandharan city of Taxila. Here, Buddhism and the sublime Graeco-Buddhist art evolved and flourished, and its glory can be appreciated in Taxila’s splendid museum and at several major sites. And if the energy-zapping heat of the plateau starts to take its toll during the warmer months, you can flee to the cool mountain air of Murree, an erstwhile British Raj hill station. Even better, ramble around the less developed, more serene hill stations strung out along the forested ridges known as the Galis, a truly welcoming escape from the frazzling rat race and other vicissitudes of life on the road.

Hingol National Park

About 100km southwest of Bela (although best accessed from Sindh via the Makran Coastal Hwy) is the 619, 043-hectare Hingol National Park. The park is on the Hingol River along the Sindh–Balochistan border and is home to marsh crocodiles, Olive Ridley turtles, leopards, Persian wild goats, hyenas, spot-billed pelicans and the Houbara bustard. Hingol has been identified as an area of global significance for its diverse ecosystems, endangered wildlife and importance as a winter habitat for migratory birds. Next to the park is the pilgrimage centre of Hinglaj, site of a mela (fair) in March/April.
The park is beautiful but very remote, and can only be reached by 4WD via the town of Aghor. You’ll need to be totally self-sufficient, as there are no tourist facilities. Check with the PTDC in Quetta before travelling.

Hazara

Roughly speaking, Hazara is that part of the North-West Frontier Province (NWFP) east of the Indus; a series of fertile plains and terraced or forested hills rising from north of the Grand Trunk Rd into the Lesser Himalaya. Today’s Hazara Division consists of the Abbottabad and Mansehra districts, and since the 1970s the Kohistan district, reaching west from the Indus into the Hindu Raj mountains.

Southern Hazara was a favourite gateway from the plains into Kashmir for expanding regimes – the Mughals, the Afghan Durranis who defeated local tribes in 1752, and the Sikhs who wrested it away during the period 1818–24. After the First Sikh War (1846), Major James Abbott came here as a British ‘adviser’ to the Sikhs; on the Sikhs’ defeat in the Second Sikh War (1849) he became Hazara Division’s first deputy commissioner. Abbottabad, the divisional headquarters, is named after him.

Some towns still have the remains of old Sikh forts, as well as gurdwaras (Sikh temples) built in the 20th century. The Sikh population only evacuated at Partition. The road to Kashmir was severed at Partition, and now Hazara’s main artery is the KKH, ascending for 160km from Havelian to the Indus River at Thakot.

Harappa

Harappa dates back to the 3rd millennium BC and is the second most important Indus Valley civilisation site, but it’s not nearly as well preserved as Moenjodaro. This, combined with the difficulty in reaching it, means that those without a specialist interest may be disappointed. On the flip side, some travellers come here purely to soak up the site’s tranquil setting.
Excavations have been carried out almost every spring since 1986 by the universities of California andWisconsin, in conjunction with the Pakistani Department of Archaeology. If you’re interested in learning more about this ancient civilisation, the Harappa Museum sells a booklet, The Glory that Was Harappa, by Dr FA Khan, for Rs 200. You should also be able to find specialist books about Harappa at Pakistan’s major bookshops.

Gojal & the Khunjerab Pass

The Khunjerab and Ghujerab Rivers merge below the Khunjerab Pass to form the Hunza River, the only stream to cut across the high spine of the Karakoram. It does so in Gojal (the still-used historical name for the region commonly described as ‘upper Hunza’), which extends from the pass to where the river turns west into ‘Hunza proper’. The High Karakoram is consequently more accessible here than anywhere else on the KKH. The Hunza River picks its way among great fans of alluvium carried down by smaller streams, and most villages are built on these fertile deposits. At Passu and Gulmit, several major glaciers reach nearly to the Highway.

‘The scenery is stern and impressive, but too gloomy and harsh to be really sublime’, wrote the British explorer Reginald Schomberg in 1935. Mountains with razor-edge summits and bare walls drop sheer to the river, and the wind drives up the valley even on brilliant days. The clearest and most storm-free weather is in early autumn, and if you’re fit, this is the place to trek and get a feeling for the mountains and its inhabitants.

Most Gojalis are Wakhi Tajik (one of seven Tajik tribes in Central Asia), descendants of nomadic herders from Afghanistan, and Ismaili Muslims. Traditionally they have depended on the raising of sheep and yaks, and to a lesser extent on cropping. They’re certainly the most warm-hearted people on the KKH, with easy greetings and hospitality for both male and female visitors.

Depending on whom you ask, khun jerab is Wakhi for either Valley of Blood or Valley of the Khan. The broad Khunjerab Pass was for centuries used by Kyrgyz and Tajik herders, until Hunza raiders hounded them out in the late 18th century, after which Hunza’s rulers declared the area to be ‘royal’ pasturelands – so either version fits.

A steady trickle of horseback commerce crossed the Khunjerab (Chinese: Hongqilapu) until the 1950s, when China–Pakistan hostilities closed the border. By the mid-1960s, the two countries had made amends and set to work on a road over the pass. ‘Khunjerab Top’ (4730m) was opened to official traffic and trade in 1982, and to tourists in 1986, though intrepid travellers had already discovered it.

The crossing is not only between countries and between watersheds (rivers flow north into the Tarim Basin and south to the Arabian Sea), but also between two of the world’s major mountain ranges, the Pamir and the Karakoram. In the 2½ hours from Sost to Pirali, the transition is evident from the deep, angular gorge of the Khunjerab River to the rounded Pamir valleys.

Faisalabad

A small market town before Partition, Faisalabad is now Pakistan’s main agro-industrial (it has the biggest agricultural university in Asia) and textile centre, a bustling metropolis about 100km west of Lahore.

Faisalabad was built around a clock tower by the British, who named it Lyallpur, with eight bazaars leading out in the pattern of the Union Jack flag, but the town has since been swallowed by typical urban sprawl. Renamed after King Faisal of Saudi Arabia, it’s also dubbed the Manchester of Pakistan(without the nightlife) and is the birthplace of the late Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan.

Very few travellers come to Faisalabad, as there’s not really anything of touristic interest. Indeed, most foreigners who come here do so for a specific educational or work purpose.

Cholistan

An extension of Rajasthan’s Thar Desert, the largest desert on the Indian subcontinent, Cholistan covers over 20, 000 sq km of southeast Pakistani Punjab and at its nearest point is some 30km from Bahawalpur. At one time it was a fertile area watered by the Hakra River – long since dry – which flowed to the Arabian Sea.

At least 400 settlements along its banks were continuously inhabited from the 4th millennium BC, long before the Indus Valley civilisation, to the beginning of the Islamic era. The remains of some 40 forts from the early days of the caliphate cross the desert like a string of pearls.

In reference to the nomadic habits of its people, the region’s name derives fromcholna, meaning ‘moving’; to the locals, however, it’s known as Rohi. The population of over 100, 000 spend their lives in constant search for pasture and water. The dress and handicrafts of Cholistan – examples of which can be bought in Bahawalpur – are unique.

Except after the early autumn rains, when some vegetation blooms, Cholistan is a sandy wasteland with clumps of hardy shrubs passing for oases. These give shelter to many species of wildlife including ratcatcher, sparrowhawk, black buck, desert fox, Houbara bustard, imperial sandgrouse and partridge.

If you’d like to spend a night in the desert you must first obtain a permit from the Bahawalpur District Coordination Officer (DCO); apply through the PTDC in Bahawalpur, which can also arrange desert safaris.

Chilas

Most visitors are here to look at the petroglyphs or to cross the Babusar Pass. There are few other reasons to stop. Foreign women especially may feel unwelcome.

Even after Kashmiri-British rule was imposed a century ago, the Indus Valley west of Chilas was a hornet’s nest of tiny republics; there was one in almost every side valley, each loosely guided by ajirga (council of tribal elders) but effectively leaderless, all at war with one another and feuding internally. Though administratively lumped with Gilgit, Chilas and its neighbours are temperamentally more like Indus Kohistan, probably owing to a similarly hostile environment and the same Sunni Muslim orthodoxy (their ancestors were forcibly converted centuries ago by Pashtun crusaders, whereas hardly anyone north of Gilgit is Sunni).

The large Chilas Fort was first garrisoned to protect British supply lines over the Babusar Pass, and beefed up after local tribes nearly overran it in 1893. Now a police post, it has put a lid on Chilas, though not on the Darel and Tangir Valleys to the west.

Chilasis are Shina speakers, with some Pashtun settlers speaking Pashto. Urdu and some English are also spoken.

Besham

Besham (beh-shaam) is about midway between Rawalpindi and Gilgit, with several hotels, cheap serais, gun shops and a main road choked with trucks and buses. This is your base for visiting the Alai Valley, and pleasant Dubair Valley is not far away.
Besham is in an eastward bulge of Swat district, and is a mostly Pashtun town. The common speech is Pashto, and Pashtuns call the Indus ‘Abaseen’ (Father of Rivers). The forerunner of the KKH was meant to link the NA, not south to Mansehra but west to Swat over the scenic Shangla Pass, and Besham is the junction for buses to/from that direction.

Batagram

The Pashtun village of Batagram, straddling the Nandihar River 25km from the Indus, has little to offer visitors other than some hard-to-find Buddhist ruins in the hills near Pishora. Little English is spoken.

Baltistan

Rising in Tibet, as one of the four sacred rivers, the Indus flows northwest almost to Gilgit, in a deep trough dividing the Himalaya from the Karakoram, and the Indian subcontinent from Asia. Before turning south it drains Baltistan, or ‘Little Tibet’, an arid land inhabited by people who today speak classical Tibetan and in the 17th century were the masters of Chitral, the NA and Ladakh.

Buddhism probably came to Baltistan in the 3rd century with Gandharan missionaries, and again when it was part of the Tibetan empire in the 8th and 9th centuries. Islam arrived in the 15th century, probably via Kashmir. Baltistan then consisted of several small kingdoms; the most important were Rondu and Skardu on the Indus, Khaplu,Shigar and Astor. Skardu’s Maqpon dynasty gradually absorbed the others.

Near the Balti capital of Skardu the Indus is joined by the Shigar and Shyok Rivers, flowing down from the Baltoro Muztagh, a segment of the Karakoram backbone containing the densest mass of glaciers and high mountains on earth, including 8611m K2, second only to Mt Everest. Naturally, there are unparalleled opportunities for trekking and mountaineering, and it is the escalating impacts of these activities that led to the establishment in 1993 of the 9738-sq-km Central Karakoram National Park . This is by far Pakistan’s biggest protected area, stretching north into Gojal, west to Haramosh and Rakaposhi, south almost to Skardu and Khaplu, and east to the crest of the High Karakoram.

Until an air route was opened from Islamabad in the 1960s, Baltistan remained almost medieval in its isolation. From 1972 to 1985, simultaneous with construction of the KKH, Pakistan Army Engineers cut a road up the Indus that is more formidable than most of the KKH.

The poorly defined northern end of the Line of Control tempted India in 1982 to send troops onto the Siachen Glacier in Baltistan’s eastern corner, which Pakistan regards as part of the NA. The two countries have militarised the area, skirmishing repeatedly in what has come to be called ‘the highest war on earth’.

But away from this off-limits zone, amid awesome scenery, are world-class treks, two national parks and villages that seem hardly touched by the 21st century. Nearly everyone is Shiite Muslim and not a woman is visible in Skardu. Men and women visitors alike should dress conservatively; shorts are out, and even bare arms put orthodox backs up. Many people of Shigar and Khaplu belong to the Nurbakhshi branch of Islam, whose women are unveiled and as open and brightly dressed as the Ismailis of Hunza.

The tourist season is April to October. Midsummer is hot in Skardu; it’s also prime mountaineering season, so jeeps and hotel space may be hard to find. You can fly in from Islamabad even in winter, though schedules are very unpredictable and only a few hotels still operate then.

Balakot

Tragic Balakot (982m) was virtually destroyed in the 2005 earthquake and many lives were lost. At the time of research one hotel remained standing amid the tangle of tents and temporary shelters. The bazaar was bustling beneath its makeshift shelter of corrugated-iron sheets and blue plastic tarps. There is a great deal of energetic rebuilding and obvious resistance to government plans to resite the town 30km towards Mansehra at Bakrial.

The PTDC operates a restaurant, at the southern end of town, but at the time of research there was no tourist information, no vehicle hire and little accommodation here. The police, post office, telephone exchange and hospital were operating in temporary buildings in their old locations, all a short walk south of the PTDC office. Banks here don’t do foreign exchange, and you can’t change money elsewhere in the Kaghan Valley.

The Hotel Serenity (501182; d/tr Rs 600/2500;) can be found at the back of a shopping arcade – apparently the only large building to remain standing, and displaying some impressive cracks. The spacious, clean and quiet rooms have morning and evening hot water. Air-con is only available in the expensive triple. The hotel has a multicuisine restaurant (mains Rs 50 to Rs 200) which specialises in Chinese meals.

Bahawalpur

Modest in size and a world away from the rat race, Bahawalpur has limited tourist sights but is a good jumping-off point to nearby attractions such as Uch Sharif.

Located about 95km south of Multan, there has been a settlement here for thousands of years, but the present town traces its name and origins to 1748 when it was made capital of the newly founded state of Bahawalpur. This state was headed by Nawab Bahawal Khan Abbasi I, of a dynasty claiming descent from the Prophet Mohammed’s uncle, Abbas. The state was ruled by the Abbasi nawabs with little outside interference until the 20th century and was only merged with Pakistan by treaty in 1954, when it became Bahawalpur Division.

The people of the region have had long associations with Sufism and pirs (holy men), whose shrines are often maintained by their families in perpetuity.

Most people in this district speak Saraiki, which is a variant of Punjabi.