It was strange to be back in the modern Hotel in Chitral, still the only tourists. We sat out on the lawn and drank tea, very civilised. We planned to go north over the Shandur Pass to Gilgit. There was just one little problem, the Shandur Pass, about 12,000 feet (4,000 metres) was covered with a snow-drift. Unseasonable weather had created havoc across the Himalayas. Snow and torrential rain had caused land-slips and mud-slides had blocked the Karakoram Highway for miles.
Our Guide had waded through the snow-drift waist-deep the previous week. Since then it had melted somewhat. At first they thought we could cross on ponies, then considered it too dangerous. A good thing because I am an inexperienced rider at the best of times. Then they would hire porters, but they never appeared. Finally it was decided to cross by foot, with poor Mr Bullbull carrying the bulk of the baggage. So I dressed in warm clothes, put on my walking boots (proper ones) and had the trekking pole ready. The journey up the mountain was quite hazardous. Many rocks and even small boulders littered the mountain track and Mr Bullbull and the Guide would get out and roll them down the precipices. Sometimes the road edge had crumbled away and the Jeep was guided by, inch at a time. The pass was fairly level for several miles. It was here that in the summer time they have the famous Polo match between Chitral and Gilgit. At last the Jeep could go no further and we bade farewell to our intrepid driver. By now the snow was beginning to melt, and was about 12 to 18 inches deep or more in places. The problem was that the wet made walking difficult. Mr Bullbull, heavily laden, went charging on ahead. My son, laden with camera bag and rucksack followed, monitoring my slow progress with his Global Positioning device. The Guide went next and I lagged behind. After about 2 miles the snow turned to mud and then a concrete plinth that bordered the road appeared. This was easier to walk along, but at this rate, my son said it would be dark before I got anywhere. How relieved we were to see the Jeep, a blue one this time, that had come from the other side. Later we learned that the driver had sat on the top of the mountain pass for five days, waiting for us. I think he slept in a hut, but the radiator water froze. In a couple of hours time we were down to about 9,000 feet (3,000 metres) and found the Guest House. It was somewhat primitive, but very welcome and we had eggs and rice for supper. Next, down to Gilgit and a meal in a Muslim house. Angela Thompson [EMAIL PROTECTED] To unsubscribe send email to [EMAIL PROTECTED] containing the line: unsubscribe lace-chat [EMAIL PROTECTED]
