Those amazing “mountain-men” of Gilgit-Baltistan- 3

Posted on August 10, 2022 by Dinshaw Avari

August 10, 2022

K2 BC Trek – Returning to Skardu (conclusion)

(part 1) https://dinshawavari.wordpress.com/2022/07/27/those-amazing-mountain-men-of-gilgit-baltistan-july-5-21-2022-1/)

(Part 2) https://dinshawavari.wordpress.com/2022/08/06/those-amazing-mountain-men-of-gilgit-baltistan-2/)

(Just look at the Yellow line for the return path- for that matter, that was also the path going to Concordia for me too)

Here’s another simple summary-

I really cannot make up my mind whether it would have been better –
1. To have continued the trek with the twisted ankle; OR
2. To sit on a friggin’ mule for three continuous days (and that too with a makeshift, homemade saddle)!
  1. …and if it was the latter, would it have been better to be ‘castrated’ professionally in a hospital, rather than sit on a mule & have it done organically 😊!!!!!!!!
If you’ve paid the evacuation insurance, it may actually be worth getting airlifted out rather than to “’mule” it – simply because 30% of the time you’d be walking anyway ☹!
Lastly, as a ‘newbie’/’wannabe’ (like me), if anyone EVER glorifies to you about trekking, please first check with them the effects of ALTITUDE (the latter never, ever crossed my mind until we started walking to Askole in the beginning).

On July 16 (Sat) (my 12^th day)- RETURN: Concordia – Goro 2 – Urdukas

Waking up at 5am, I doubled up [on everything], filled the water bladder and the Grayle water purifier itself (thus having 3½ lts of water on hand), packed the bags and hobbled over to the mess tent for breakfast. Hameed [cook] whipped up a good omelet, after which I just waited in the mess tent while the mules were loaded.

I left Concordia on the Khutcher at 6.45am, accompanied with Shakir and Mussa Ali. I was on one mule; our tent and gear on another mule; while a third mule carried Shakir’s gear. The mule costed me Rs. 65,000. (Should have accepted Mirza Ali’s offer for an airlift rescue instead 😊).

What can I say about the saddle? Hmmm … 🤔 let me see … well, it wasn’t exactly the type you see in the Western movies where the cowboy rides comfortably for 18 hours a day, that too with a pretty maiden at the back 😨!

This was one of the most uncomfortable rides I have ever taken in my ‘half a century’ alive. Whoever designed this ‘saddle’, certainly must never have sat on it too; I think the mules are used for carrying goods- I’m sure no sane human ever sat on one of these 😩 (but then I’m far from ‘sane’ too).

Whatever construction (or design), I could not put the closer foot in stirrup and swing my other foot over to the other side … remember, we are not in Clint Eastwood’s western movie! No sireeebob – if I had done that, the saddle and me would have slipped right off the side of the mule where I placed my weight. The method was to stand on a rock – swing your far side leg over to the other side of the mule – and then get on with equal weight. Just as well for me as I could not put any weight on my right foot.

The moment I got onto the mule, I knew I was done for … and just sitting on the animal five minutes, my lower back started going to hell.

We reached Goro 2 around 1015am and got off the mule for a very welcoming break.

Now, in this section I’m going to bitch and bitch about my uncomfortable ride home – but remember, I was still sitting on a mule while my two companions walked the entire distance (eventually upto Askole) … now that’s something! That should give one an idea as to why I named this blog after them!

A little while later we set off for Urdukas.

This was the worst day to date!

From the very beginning I was squirming from this butt to that butt trying to find a position which would reduce the back pain- to no avail. I had to actually ask Shakir to stop just to get off and rest my butt and back.

I could actually hardly walk with my right foot, let along put my full weight down on the leg; but very soon (and then regularly after that) I had to dismount and walk on my own. For the first time ever, I felt like an old, retired man who needed help in walking- in my case it was Mussa who used to give me a hand.

Nearing Urdukas, another experienced trekker, Nadir Ali Shah, caught up with us saying that Mirza (or Gul) had sent word to him to locate me to join him at his camp at Urdukas for dinner. I thanked him and off he merrily went without as much as a “toodlee doo”! Every time I looked up, Nadir Ali seemed to be ‘sprinting’ away further & further.

Eventually, arriving at Urkudas around 4pm, I was completely done in- sitting on the Khutcher was back breaking, draining and most most uncomfortable. My outlook was completely negative and I was physically & mentally uncomfortable- how the hell could I spend 2 more days like this in the saddle??? My right foot was tight in my shoe- my foot had swollen and dared not remove my shoe for fear of not being able to wear it again.

Anyway, Nader Ali and his team of Austrians were resting on a rock at Urdukas when I rode in and he invited me for eats once his mess tent was up.

After my tent was up, I got in and got some sleep with my legs placed up to relieve my lower back. Removing my double clothes, I had a wipe down and wore a fresh t-shirt and my outlook brightened up a bit.

Around 5pm, Nadir Ali called me to their mess tent – it turns out that Nadir is not only an experienced trekker but he was the main cook for his party; in fact he was more like their “all man Friday”- cook and guide; and the food was delicious.

On entering the tent, one of the Austrians was none other than Andy (Andreas Mennel), who had greeted me on arrival Concordia. What a fluke. It was pleasant sitting on the chair and chatting with all three of them – the other two were David Specht and Albert Witting – especially after hours of silently sitting on the mule.

All three welcomed me warmly and shared their food with me. Hot soup and tea was so welcoming. It was really nice talking to them. They too had got upto Concordia but turned back from there and hadn’t gone the whole distance, apparently.

By 6pm or so, I had to turn in. I said my g’night and even regretted Andy, David & Albert when they asked if I should be woken for the actual dinner and made my way to the tent. I was bushed and by 7pm, turned in for the night. Both Shakir and Mussa came asking me for food and I regretted them too- I was dehydrated and just was not feeling good. We had initially planned to leave Urdukas at 5am next day but I told Shakir we’ll go at 7am…there was no used killing myself on the way back.

I am extremely grateful to Nadir Ali, Andy, Albert & David for opening their ‘home’ to me for dinner and breakfast.

This is the one criticism I have for my expedition organizers – that for my return, they had made NO provisions for lunch or dinner for us (very different from what Shakir had told me before leaving Concordia). For the next two days, it was upto us to ‘beg, borrow or steal’ a meal. To say ‘humiliating’ would be an understatement. By the way, I only realized this at Paiyu.

On my 13^th day (July 17, 2022 Sun)– RETURN: Urdukas – Paiyu

I awoke at 4.45am refreshed- changed, rolled up the sleeping back and was ready earlier than expected. Shakir and musa were yet to have breakfast and I told them to take it easy. We could have actually left early, as originally planned.

That morning had 2 boiled eggs & hot tea with my new friends; filled up my water bladder (which had emptied well before arriving to Urdukas yesterday) and finally set off at 7am. Nadir Ali told me they would be camped a little further from Paiyu camp so to come and camp with them. I was looking forward to that as I set out with no lunch or snack.

So, once again, with the slope down being too steep for sitting on the mule, I had to hobble the next 30-45 minutes out from Urkudas on my own. My ankle was better but by the time I reached down, it was again feeling tight. With the sun beating down, I took off all the double clothes I had on. Wondering where I would put my two jackets, I suddenly had a brain wave – I folded my both the fleece & my down jacket and placed it over the ‘make-shift’ saddle. Mussa corrected me by removing the down and I sat ever so comfortably on the Khutcher on the fleece. I wish I had thought of that when leaving Concordia. The jacket actually made any lower back pain go away and it was a relatively comfortable ride onwards. My outlook too was more positive with the hot breakfast inside me.

We arrived Khorbutse around 9am. Musa made some black tea and we had biscuits. By this time, Israr had turned up with his party of three Dutch people. I had seen Israr on and off on the trek to Concordia and it was nice to see a familiar face again.

After a 30 minute stop at Khorbutse, we left for Paiyu. The water level this time was completely low- so different from the time when we came to Khorbutse and sitting on the mule, it really didn’t make any difference to me.

It was a slightly uncomfortable ride- I learnt that whenever going uphill, I had to shift my body weight to the front, towards the mule’s head; and when coming down slope, move my weight backwards. Interesting but uncomfortable. Every time we came to a very steep descent, I looked at it with some trepidation – only to be relaxed when the mule found a less steep route down.

We joined the Baltoro Glacier exactly where we had stepped off it on July 11^th.

The last time when we got off Baltoro at this point, there was some falling rock and ice and we had to cross quickly in case of an unexpected landslide. This time was no different- we waited on the opposite side till other trekkers came over and then I dismounted again to walk across this portion. Going back up the Glacier was tougher as there had already been a landslide earlier so the route was slightly different then initially; and there were some locals trying to fix up the trail. After an exhausting climb back up the Glacier and away from the landslide area, we rested for a while. Mussa kept running off to help some other hiker up and down the same trail. Talk about stamina!

Some way off, we came across Israr and his trekking party, who had stopped and were making tea. I too gratefully got off the mule and took rest on the rocks. Israr’s companions offered some hot tea which I gulped down very gratefully.

We were resting adjacent to a small, blue pond and both mules and humans drank directly from the pond 😊! It turned out that our dishes and mugs were being washed in the same water as the mules were drinking in 😊. Best that the Dutch hikers were never the wiser!

There were many instances when I would need to get off the Khutcher due to the type of route conditions and then would get back on again. Those moments were long and slow as I had to hobble on the sides of the mountain with one of my sticks.

All along this route wherever needed I would get off the mule for a few meters where it was hard going and then get on again.

Eventually, somewhere toward the end of Baltoro glacier, Shakir again asked me to dismount, which I did and he carried on with the mules. After that Musa and I didn’t see or hear from Shakir again for over an hour. Where the hell had he gone. The main unsteady patch which he wanted me to get off for was long gone and now there were clear paths for any rider to sit on an animal. Again I slipped, this time lightly hurting my left ankle and again putting pressure on the right ankle. That really made me a cranky ol’ coot!

Eventually, we got off the glacier and for once, the side of mountain was level and walkable – easy for any mule with a rider – yet no sight or sound of Shakir. I became as inventive with swear words as I ever have! Even Musa could not understand where Shakir had gone. Upto now, Shakir proved to be quite resourceful and a good companion- this changed my opinion of him completely. Even Gul had told me at Concordia that Shakir was a trusted person who was with him for many years- well, GUL, you have been proved WRONG!

After 1½ hours (or more?) of hobbling, eventually, we found Shakir nicely sleeping under the shade of a brush. The mules were grazing somewhere behind some rocks.

Now, try to picture this next scene- it so vividly reminded my about one of Clint Eastwood’s Westerns – a little brumble bush rolling here and there; hot desert; mules grazing on the dusty slopes, trying to forage for food … and our HERO sleeping under a slight shade of a small bush! What a nerve! 🤬🤬😡😡

It even took Mussa a while to get the #!$%*!?^ awake. Irritatingly, I told him that thanks to him, I had slipped again on the glacier, this time hurting both ankles, yet with Musa’s help carried on. If he wanted to sleep he could easily have told me and I would have concurred, using that time to rest up as well. All he did is he went on and left us behind. I was really upset. He didn’t say a word- neither any apology or justification.

There really was not much more I could say or do- I certainly could not let him leave me stranded there!

A short while after we restarted, we were running parallel to a small stream; and once again I was reminded about the western movies … this time with Shakir drinking straight from stream but putting his face down in it- like the rough and tough cowboys used to do.

You know, we make fun “…as dumb as a donkey”. Let me say, my mule was nothing close to being dumb. They are extremely intelligent animals. Firstly, they seek out the shortest path between two points. When they need something to be done to their bridle or are thirsty, they stop. It gives us an indication something’s up. Sometimes, they would just stop for other two mules to catch up. Most importantly, you just needed to point the khutcher to the destination and it remembered the route from previous trips of the season and didn’t need to be guided. Amazing!

Anyway, getting on the mule eventually, we reached Paiyu around 3.30pm. The camp was absolutely full with trekkers and tents. Musa made some tea in the camp’s confectionary and I hobbled up the stairs to him.

Now, Musa’s brother was Paiyu Camp in-charge. I was cheesed off at Shakir, so when I was alone with Musa, I told him why not ditch Shakir and I’d pay him for the animals upto this point; and instead get Musa’s brother to organise two mules for us to go on to Askole. That really took Musa aback and said it won’t be possible now that Shakir has arranged the mules and all. I knew this wasn’t going to happen but I wanted the word to informally get back to Shakir…which it did.

When Shakir turned up, I once again berated him for his actions on the glacier – again with nothing for him to say, I hobbled off looking for Nadir Ali’s set up (or Israr’s), which I could not find, so just went to my tent for a wipe down and rest.

Some other tour group leader came asking me to move from there and I just referred him to Shakir. Never heard from the guy again.

Then there was a Japanese man who was complaining away, nonstop to his organizer, as he must have been promised to be placed next to running water and clean toilets – well the running water was there but the “clean toilets” were far from clean and also not so nearby as he must have expected. I can understand his irritation but after a while I too felt pity for the organizer.

Musa asked what time I wanted dinner, to which I asked him 6pm and something simple- anything they were planning to have; some vegetables and rice, etc. I wasn’t really pushed as long as I had some hot food in me. I wanted to eat early and turn in, so that we could actually leave earlier the next morning.

I waited and waited but no food. Eventually Musa turned up at 8pm with delicious food. I found it strange to eat this and complimented him; and asked who had cooked it at the confectionary.

It turned out that he had not made the food at the camp confectionary; they had scoured around and found a tour group, who’s cook was from the same village as Gul and requested him for dinner for me- without informing the occupants. Now, that was really embarrassing. Anyway, the cook also came, asked about me and I thanked him and he left saying he’ll bring breakfast in the morning. By then it was useless to ignore it and I let it go.

Next morning, without my asking, the cook of the other group himself brought me omelet and hot tea.

Now, I’m eating breakfast, looking out of my tent and I can see the cook and the tour guide talking and looking at me. I didn’t know what to do – I didn’t know who knew in that group that I was mooching off them and I was really feeling embarrassed. I didn’t let my eye catch them (they weren’t so far away) and I pretended not to notice them. Eventually, before leaving, I asked Musa and he told me the Guide and cook both knew, so I then went up to the side and waved them my thanks. But I was feeling very guilty and embarrassed about the situation. I had even offered the cook some money which he refused saying he was here to help ‘stranded travelers’. I am very very grateful to the cook, guide and the unnamed organizer for also providing me dinner and breakfast, at Paiyu.

Basically a very very hospitable people, the Gigit-Baltistan lot, and they come to each other’s help and assistance when needed.

On July 18, 2022 (Mon)– RETURN: Paiyu – Askole

After a great omelette breakfast, and waving my thanks to the cook and the guide for their hospitality, we left Paiyu at 6.30. The guide must have been thinking what a snob and ‘lord sahib’ I must have been- sitting in my tent and eating their food and not acknowledging it. My sincere thanks to this group’s guide, organizer and cook.

The one positive about riding back was that I managed to capture a lot of the mountains and scenery, which we had missed going to Concordia. When trekking on the glacier and mountains, I had to keep concentrating for each step to step and naturally largely missing the scenery then. There were one or two spots which I recognized from our way to Concordia but by and large the rest was like new to me.

I personally think Shakir took out his revenge on me 😊 (must have received my feedback from Mussa, which was my intention) … …every so often, on the flat grounds, he would make my mule gallop. Now let me tell all of you, that is one of the most DISPLEASUREABLE and UNCOMFORTABLE experiences for a MALE … I will not go into the details, suffice to say, if you are not sitting in a proper saddle, you are going to land up with ‘scrambled eggs’ 😊😊😊.

After several further dismounts (ankle was getting better however) we eventually arrived at Ali Depot (just before our Jhola camp) at 1040.

(That’s my right foot in bottom right corner)

Lo & behold, Israr and his Dutch team were already there and had arrange a jeep. After asking Israr, at 11am we all clamoured in, with Israr telling the driver I was “part of his group”, for our journey to Askole, with me sharing 1/3^rd part of the cost of travel. If Israr had told the driver differently I would have been labbed with 15k just on my own. So, am grateful to Israr.

Shakir and I got onto the jeep while Musa would bring the mules to Askole by their route.

It was a long ride but what a pleasure after riding the bloody khutcher for three days.

We couldn’t make it directly to Askole however. We eventually arrived at a broken bridge around 1145am. Again, the flooding had caused the strong structure to collapse.

The only option of crossing over the turbulent river was by a simply homemade pulley system. Once Israr had paid the people for all of us (I repaid him!) one by one the equipment, items and we crossed over. On my way over, two of the Dutch trekkers were pulling me over and on crossing I joked that I would tip them in Islamabad over beers – that drew a very happy & grateful thanks from them (…and no, I never met them after that!). (See Twitter for the videos)

(My new-found Dutch friends pulling me across)

Once on the opposite side, we had to wait for some other transport as it was too hot and long to wak to Askole (and I just would not have been able to take the distance on my ankle). In the far distance, we actually saw Musa with the mules walking along- as the green & orange colours of the various bags were striking in the sun.

Waiting for a couple of hours on the opposite side, I started talking to an American who was closely inspecting the makeshift pulley system. Hobbling over to him, I joked that this engineering ‘feat’ would certainly NOT pass any US or European audit standards of construction. Turned out he was an engineer too and he joked he was going to show this simple set up to his engineers in USA. He had trouble acclimatizing and returned back from Paiyu.

On enquiring, the cost to cross this river was Rs. 100 for locals and a couple of hundred more for foreigners. I was speaking to one of the [makeshift] bridge’s locals and told them while they should continue to charge Rs. 100 to Pakistanis, there would be nothing wrong in charging a flat Euro 5 per foreigner. The 5 Euros would not ‘break the bank’ for them and it was a very small and reasonable amount in Euro; while a nice chunk when converted in Rupees. He told me, forget foreigners, even us Pakistanis were cursing them and bitching about coughing up a hundred rupees only for the crossing. I tell you, sometimes, we Pakis can be really snooty and more ‘British than the British’! 🤬

Finally another jeep arrived there ar 2.40pm and we all managed to pile in for Askole. The jeep would make two more trips to bring the rest of the teams to Askole.

In Concordia, I had given Dinaz the telephone number of Gul’s office manager in Skardu, Nasir, requesting him to top up my Skardu sim card so that I could also make calls.

On the drive over to Askole, I managed to get in touch with Nasir, who told me he had arranged car crossing to Pakoru and onwards to Skardu. In fact the driver was already waiting at Pakuro.

As the mules were coming separately with my gear, we had to wait at Askole Musa to turn up, which Musa Ali did around 4pm. There was still light and after checking with Shakir we organized a jeep to take us to Pakoru. The driver said 12k and I accepted without a flinch- ‘beggars can’t be choosers’ (maybe not the right metaphor!) but I told him I’d pay him at Pakoru.

After saying my thanks and goodbyes to Israr, the Dutch and the American, Shakir and I made our way to Pakoru – Shakir came along to help with the bags for the Pakoru bridge crossing.

This section has one of the most dilapidated roads one can ever imagine, so the going was slow!

At 5.45pm we reached Pakoru, only to find out I was out of money. I had a balance 10k left on me. I gave 6k to the driver and promised him vide a ‘promissory note’ to pay the balance 6k upon reaching Skardu. After a lot of haggling, he agreed and we again crossed the makeshift bridge, climbed up the steep hill (which we had climbed down on the last time here) and then down the steep slope to the Pakoru restaurant.

Time was getting short so I told the driver from Skardu, upon meeting him (Mahdi), to quickly make a move for Skardu. However, he and Shakir wanted tea so we grabbed a quick ‘cuppa’. There Mahdi paid off the balance 6k to Shakir for the driver and other incidentals (as I didn’t have money) and made me write up another promissory note for the money he had paid. Amazing… the trust that goes on in this “IOU” system. I thought the concept of “trust” was all but finished as Pakistan made its way into the 21^st Century.

At Pakoru, I made up another “IOU” for Mahdi to be reimbursed his money from the company. Subsequently, in Skardu, I paid Naser this total amount to be given to Mahdi, so that he is not ‘out of pocket’ in case he is not reimbursed.

Eventually, with another jeep (which Mahdi paid for also), we took off for the 2^nd blockage, where Nasir had parked his car.

At the second blockage we transferred to Mahdi’s FJ jeep which had been parked on the other side and finally made off for Skardu but not before evading another road blockage near Hussainabad,

We reached the same army check post in Dasu for reporting- I reminded the officer (I recognized him from our previous trip to Askole on July 8^th) who I was and after finding my name and entry in his register off we went.

We finally arrived at 1130pm back to the hotel in Skardu, tired and hungry.

What an ordeal…what a RETURN adventure! Truly!

There are several observations which I thought I would write to the Gilgit Baltistan government- they have a gold mine here but are squandering it with completely lack of infrastructure, facilities and … hygiene and cleanliness on the trek.

Oh yes, I said I’d tell you about my Steppie friend Imran. I had a great interaction with the whole group of trekkers and somewhere along the trek, Imran and I made each other “step brothers” (…’from another mother” 😊) and then it was “steppies” all along from there.

I had a great bunch of trekkie and made friends with them.

As I said, my Steppie was Imran; his wife Farwa, was the most positive in the group. Anything negative and she would find a positive twist to it.

Both Imran & Farwa, had done various treks (including South America and Kilimanjaro).

Bilal, our Oncologist, was the most experienced from five of us.

Of course, who can forget Willam and Juliane. With Sohail as their guide, they would zip past us and be at the destination anywhere from one to two hours ahead of the second group (I made up the 3^rd, and last, “group”). Juliane always had a smile on her face.

Another very positive person I got to know was Alizah. Young (unlike me), first time trekker (like me), always a go-getter and most of the time she stayed up with our senior Trekker Bilal. Very positive and looked forward to future treks. I don’t know how she did it- infact I don’t know how any of them made it look so easy. Here I was gasping for breath, taking stops, etc and the rest of them merrily skipping along 😊! The banter between this group was wonderful- especially between Imran (“Mr Mimosa”) & Bilal. What a laugh.

(There were always three guides- one for the front; one for the mid people; and the last for people like me at the back).

Back to Earth, questions I was asked (and what I asked myself too)–

Would I do this again? NO (emphatically!).

Did I enjoy doing it? YES immensely! It showed how I can push my body and mind; and other than one or two spots, I was in a positive frame of mind throughout.

Why not do a simpler trek before setting out for K2? Had I known then (before signing up) what I now know (after the trip), I don’t think I would have ever gone on it 😊. Any other type of trek would have taught me exactly what it is like to “trek”, and that too at high altitudes; the breathlessness; the tiredness. There was no way I was going to trek if I knew all this then!

…and just as well I didn’t know- it turned out to be one of the most memorable adventures I’ve ever had. It was MEANT to be taken and experienced by me!

I was alone on most parts of the trek to Concordia- only joining up with the group at campsites; and on my return on the mule. But never did I feel lonely or bored. It was exciting; a brand new experience; enjoying the glory of these looming mountains, under which we are minuscule in size; and what a blue sky in the day; and such a perfect night, starry sky (when it was not cloudy).

Should you do this trek in your lifetime … Definitely YES. The beauty of Pakistan is unmatched and needs to be experienced firsthand, and not through blogs 😊!

In ending, two people who inspired this whole adventure need to be thanked – Shehrbano Taseer and Wendy Gilmore – both who had done it and made it sound like ‘child’s play’ … yeah RIGHT! 😊.

Those amazing “mountain-men” of Gilgit-Baltistan- 2

Posted on August 6, 2022 by Dinshaw Avari

August 3, 2022

The K2 Base Camp Trek- Askole to Concordia

(For part 1: https://dinshawavari.wordpress.com/2022/07/27/those-amazing-mountain-men-of-gilgit-baltistan-july-5-21-2022-1/)

Now, let me simply summarize this section-

After 2½ yrs of COVID hiatus, this Trek was a “defibrillator” to my heart!
If you’re anything like me, this Trek will knock any mental health issues out of you for a sixer!
It’s better than any boot camp- I returned 5kg less in weight, that too, only upto Concordia!
I ain’t EVER doing this again 😊!

Dare I ask you to go on…

On July 9 (Sat) (our 5th day) we started our actual TREK from Askole (Altitude: 3005m) at 11am via Korophon to Jhola camp.

Our backpacks were all coming with the mules; all we needed to carry was our day pack with water and rain gear; and our walking sticks. I had bought a day pack in Skardu and with other “odds & ends” the day pack too was slightly weighty.

One has to be very careful about taking photos of the females in Askole- they don’t like it because, as we were informed, several such photos found they way back through social media to their villages.

It was a very pretty leaving Askole in between these giants of mountains.

Arriving Korophon I was tired & dehydrated (appx 35°41’23.9″N 75°54’55.9″E / 35.689982, 75.915538). I had a 3 litre water bladder but from then onwards I put in ORS which helped a lot for the treks. As will become the norm, I plodded into Korophon camp with my guide about 30 minutes after the last trekker in our group.

At Korophon, we managed to get a jeep to Jhola. The actual campsite is slightly away from where we actually camped but we saved an hour’s travel (one way) by camping where we did (appx 35°40’45.3″N 75°57’49.3″E / 35.679236, 75.963692).

So this was the FIRST time in my LIFE attending to the ‘call of nature”, in nature! Never before have I camped, backpacked or trekked (and that too at these altitudes)- so all FIRSTS for me 😊.

On July 10 (Sun) (day 6) I left Jhola at 7am, initially with the pros (as I was ready) Willam, Juliane & Guide Sohail. I managed to stick with them or just behind till we came upon a donkey camp. There, guide Zakirullah joined up and became my walking partner at my own pace; but we still stayed more or less with sohail’s group for a while.

At some point, we started trekking up a glacier- till then things were not so bad but once we started climbing, the going got slower and breathing heavier.

Now, here is where these amazing Guides, porters, support staff, mules come into the picture-

When navigating in the high seas, our sailors use the electronic equipment, radar, GPS, etc and when all else fails they still have the old Astro-navigation techniques and tools.

HERE, on the glacier, there is no such aid. I was informed that Gul & his team generally are the first to mark the path/track to K2 every season – the track changes due to the shifting ice on the glacier and landslides on the mountain, etc. So, barring one or two clear nights when the stars are out in full strength, there really are no navigation tools to find your route across the glaciers. They have to actually make a route, tag it the old way (see below) and that sets the route(s) up for that season for all trekkers and guides.

Tagging the route was very simple- you’d see a pile of rock on top of each other and know you were “en-route”. For newbies like me, naturally, it took a while to trace out the route but even then, there were desolate patches which only our guides got us across. Truly ASTONISHING!

Later I learnt from Juliane, these markers are called “Stone Men”.

We had a [glacier] water crossing when I realized I had misplaced my sailing shoes (in other back pack) so borrow zakir’s saddles for the short crossing. Water was absolutely freezing but on the opposite side I passed on the sandals back to Zakirullah and dried my feet in the sun & sand. The going was still tough with a lot of ‘ups & downs” over the glacier, finally arrived Paiyu camp (only camp site with trees & greenery), eight hours later (3420 m), (appx location 35.6782282796312, 76.12565159783126, located at the foot of Baltoro Glacier).

At Paiyu, like at every camp/stop from hereon, hot soup & some snack item would be ready for us on arrival. The soup was always freshly made- not some packed soup. Not much of a soup drinker but after 8 hours on the trail, what a welcoming respite it was!

Once the tents were up, I rested for an hour while some of the others played “Ludo”- now that brings back memories!

On waking, I had a “wipe-down”. What is a body ‘wipe-down’…

In 2008, I participated in one leg of an ‘around the world’ sailing race – from Fremantle to Qingdao. In preparation for that, due to limitations of storing fresh water on a yacht, we couldn’t even think of having a traditional bath in those five weeks. Our ‘bath’ consisted of using antibacterial wet wipes to keep ourselves hygienic from toes to forehead.

So, that’s exactly what I did at each camp from Paiyu onwards. Naturally, I got back in the same clothes I was wearing before the wipe down but at least you felt cleaner and hygienic. After that, I once again (lost count by now) rearranged my backpack- this time to bring my cold weather gear to the top.

I came to realize too late that the Canon camera, Samsung tablet, sat phone and GPS I had brought along was absolutely useless and only lent to weighing down the main backpack. Unless you are photography nut, I suggest do not carry all this equipment and it’s ancillary gear as it increases the weight unnecessarily. The only thing which which came to good use was my son Byram’s power bank (though a little weighty).

In fact, all the clothes I had brought on this trip were worn by me. Nothing went to waste. Good to know this for future- not that I’m doing this again 😊.

On our 7^th day (July 11, 2022 Mon), awaking at 5am, I got ready, brushed and made my way to the mess tent for a quick breakfast.

(Aside- we had the luxury of omelettes every day of the trek for breakfast, tea, green tea or coffee!)

Today’s walk is said to be shorter than yesterday but harder. It definitely turned out to be hard – but very interesting. Zakirullah & I left Paiyu at 7am, starting over Baltoro Glacier within the next 45 minutes, towards Khorbutse.

Just before Khorbutse camp, we came across another, much larger, river crossing. We could either cross these streams as the most direct course to camp or have a 3 km detour which the mules would use. Naturally, we decided the shorter route… Gul went ahead to try to scout out a safe crossing through the stream.

Now picture this scene –

You have this guy, without a thought, who’s standing in waist-deep water, surveying the scene, with his cowboy cap on and his hands on his hips (all that’s missing is a cheroot in his mouth and guns with holster 😊) – as if he’s on some tropical, white sand, Caribbean island (think … “Pirates of the Caribbean”)!

…HEY, HELLOOOOO … Gul … you do realize you are standing in -5⁰ water, don’t you! 😊

Anyway, he finds a path across the shallowest portion of the deepest end and we start our crossing.

Once again, I borrowed Zakir’s sandals. This time, the water crossing was much wider with more water sections to cross. The moment we stepped into the glacial water, it was as if someone’s axed my toes away. They were burning from the cold! Every now and then we’d get onto a relatively dry patch and I jogged in place to try to warm my toes but all I can think of are my toes have been chopped off. Surprisingly, my feet & legs were okay– the brunt of the icy treatment was on the first three TOES of each foot.

Our balance 5 people trek team was together again (other than the ‘pros’ who had already reached camp a couple of hours back) and we were made to link our hands together in a line and cross together. Unfortunately for Farwa, who I was holding on to, she got the brunt of my weight unconsciously pulling down on her shoulder as I cringed every time we crossed the icy water.

My toes still tingle from the cold.

We arrived Khorbutse (appx 35°42’57.6″N 76°13’55.7″E / 35.716000, 76.232142) (Altitude 3795 m) at 3pm. Another eight hour trek!

Well, I can safely say that we all arrived at camp together this time 😊… I wasn’t the last to ‘plod in’.

Crossing Baltoro Glacier makes for a very interesting trek. I can tell my fitness level has increased substantially, and getting better, but the altitude was still affecting my oxygen intake, tiring me very fast.

Upto now, along with the group, we’d take 5-10 minute rests from time to time.

Now, I tested a new procedure of more frequent breaks but only standing for 15-20 seconds. Alongwith those breaks, concentrating on my breathing technique and taking shorter steps, I managed the trek a little easier than before.

Invariably, with the height changes, I would have to take Panadol too (by the time of the respective destination)- this was in addition to the Diamox which I had started in Skardu.

Oh yes, let me tell you about our pack lunch. From Jhola, we were all given a small pack of hi-carb lunch- cheese, potatoe, dry fruits, nuts, etc. I didn’t think much of it until after Paiyu, when Bilal informed me that the hi-carb will help in my strength and stamina. From thereon, I never missed my ‘lunch’!

Upto now, we’ve not had any signal on our mobiles, so I’m completely out of touch with my family.

On our 8^th day (July 12, 2022 Tue) we left Khobartse a little late at 8am.

After breakfast, initially I traveled with rest of group led by guide Sohail, who would continuously make stops whenever I needed a stop (which was often).

Leaving Khorbatse, we started with a steep climb before descending onto the Glacier again. Now we were passing several glaciers which linked into the main glacier from both sides. Eventually, Gul, Zakirullah & Sajjad caught up and Zakirullah fell in step with me.

I keep wondering if the respective guides were being ‘punished’ by being stuck with ‘slow’ me!

The going is so slow that each time you look up at a mountain or glacier, you would think you’ve passed one and come across another. But no! It was the very same glacier which never seemed to move because of the speed at which I walked.

Walking on the glacier has more ups and downs than walking on the sides of the mountains; however, these ups & downs were not very high, so manageable for me- in spite of shortness of breath. Coming back to the sides of the mountain, and walking the mountain terrain, is more demanding and tiring.

We arrived Urdukas (appx 35°43’42.4″N 76°17’05.6″E / 35.728440, 76.284885 ) at around 12noon (3900 m), again, about half hour after the rest of the team. Urdukas camp is at a height, so once again had to resort to climbing up the trail. Actually, Urdukas was another camp with some trees and greenery.

After our soup lunch, sleep & rinse, once again I reorganized my bag. This time, I emptied everything, removed all the stuff which I wasn’t using and was adding to weight and gave those to Gul in case he had any use for it.

I also realized that other than water, I was not using my day pack for anything so decided to try an experiment for tomorrow’s trek by only taking my 3 ltr camelback water bladder, my Grayle water filter and my rain gear.

For the first time, we had mutton palao for dinner. Our porters have been pulling along two goats and now we realized what for.

Before turning in at 7.45pm, Urdukas’ sky gave us such an amazing spectacle of nature …

(Singing & dancing after a tiring day)- courtesy Imran

On July 13, 2022 (Wed ), guide Sajjad was labbed with me and we left Urdukas [on my suggestion] at 6.30 (1/2 hr before others). For this trek I wore my down jacket and took along the rain jacket. I also ditched the day pack and just wore the water backpack, as I noticed I don’t access day pack on the hike. It was much easier. Shortly we were back on Baltoro glacier. It was an excellent trek with short but continuous up and downs.

Imran and family started off 35 min after me but eventually caught up …sigh… that’s inevitable.

However, I managed to stay up with them until Goro 1 campsite (arriving 11am) where Sajjad and I took a lunch break, while others kept walking onwards. Other trekkers had also set up tents and chairs for their tea and snacks.

10 min later we took off for Goro 2 and eventually saw Imran et al having lunch on a rock. However, the two of us pushed on and reached Goro 2 at 1.15pm -would you believe, 5-10 minutes before Imran and family 😊. (Appx (35.76085162933793, 76.4299697087375).

This section passed large ice mountains (like icebergs), which we also had to circumvent. STUNNING!

Goro 2 was cold and raining continuously. The pros had already reached 1½ hours earlier but unfortunately had to sit in the miserable rain as the mules with the gear and tents had not reached in time. Eventually, the mules and we reached almost together; but being absolutely knackered, most of us just plopped down in the Mess tent, while Bilal, Juliane and Willam helped set up the rest of the camp. Talk about me being a lazy sod! This last bit to Goro 2 really really stretched out – too long.

(Setting up camp at Goro 2- courtesy Farwa)

(As if we’d not done enough of climbing, Willam decided to go mountain climbing at Goro 2)

After another hearty soup & pakora lunch I went to my tent and rested again.

This 9^th night in Goro 2 was the coldest night to date- we were going to have to start layering up. That night I wore socks and my ski-Dubai cap; my fleece jacket, then down jacket and finally rain jacket…all together. Going to pee at night was a pain in itself. Now I understand the reason for the optional suggestion- a “pee” bottle for the nights.

On July 14, 2022 (Thu) our 10th day, I doubled up on the t shirts, then fleece, down, smock-like rain jacket, two sets of woolen socks, neck baklava and finally gloves and woolen cap.

I started off with others altogether but gradually fell behind. This section has proved the hardest one to date. This time’s trek over the glacier saw very few respites of level ground or down slopes- majority was all upwards going.

Around 9am, I saw Gul on his mobile and I requested to call my wife. She had been worried and I told her to call me after 3pm at Concordia. I could not make calls (no credit) but could receive calls.

Over my lifetime, my brother and father would tell me what’s the purpose of getting worried about something if you don’t have the means of doing anything about it. I realized this for the first time!

For the last few days, I had been somewhat at “peace” with the realization that due to lack of communication, my worrying that my family will be worryied about, was not worth the worry- and I got on with the trekking. For the first time, this principal came use to me!

I also think I was having acclimatisation problems on this trek section, being totally out of breath, very regularly.

Eventually we made it to Concordia at 2.30pm, about one hr after the others (appx 35.75353462124054, 76.5150773956514). Along the way, I had met up with some Austrians (Andy) and he also gave me some trekking tips.

Coming closer to Concordia, we saw Gul was on lookout as he was worried for us, being so far behind. Sajjad too hadn’t been well that morning and that made Gul even more worried.

As I said, I was always the last to arrive at camp; but what I ‘secretly’ failed to mention was my arrival was last, even after all other trekker groups!

I hadn’t really enjoyed this section of the trek- I think the altitude, oxygen and just overall fatigue led to my only negative feeling on the whole trek.

When Gul met us before Concordia, he suggested that I don’t do Gondoro La (GG La) section and instead take a mule back. By then I was tired, negatively inclined, fed up with this long section and told him I’d been thinking of the same thing. While the two of them made their way into camp, I plodded along sullenly behind.

Ironically, it was Andy who first greeted my on arriving at Concordia 😊 (4500 m).

The others had all had their soups but kept my bowl saved, which I cherished. Feeling better after something hot in me, I went to my tent for a rest and my son & wife’s call. We spoke for a long time and it felt good; and I discussed my initial thoughts about what Gul suggested and the onwards journey.

Unfortunately, Dinaz gave me sad news- a very close friend of ours, Peter Lartz, had succumbed to Cancer in Rheinbach, Germany. We got to know Peter and his wife, Hea Young, on their posting to Karachi with the German Consulate. One of the nicest and friendliest people we have as friends. In Karachi, either they were entertaining people at their house for dinner OR they would be invited out for dinner. They never had dinner at home – just the two of them 😊. When we drove from Karachi to UK in 2017, my wife and I spent three lovely days with them in Rheinbach.

That evening, on reversing out of tent for dinner, I got entangled in the tent lines, slipped and twisted my right ankle. It hurt slightly but seemed OK to go on tomorrow. Slight limp but didn’t seem to be a problem.

That evening at dinner, I told my friends what I had been contemplating over to Concordia and my discussions with Gul & Dinaz-

It seemed quote logical I won’t be able to carry on after the K2 section- with the altitude, lack of upper body strength required for GG La, my slow pace (and honestly, my negative outlook). I would do K2 BC with them tomorrow and on returning to Concordia, would return back on a mule (‘Khutcher’). I just knew my maximum limit had been reached and my mind was not in a very positive place.

I was actually at peace with this decision and not really upset because I knew I had reached my limitation finally. I was making it to K2 BC, which was the objective but instead of returning from the GG La section, I would turn back for Skardu from Concordia. Everyone seemed okay with that. I know I was a bit negative anyway on this section of the trek, so would reconfirm this again after K2- who knows my attitude may change.

… Little was that to be the case.

In hindsight I believe several factors contributed to my decision –

Due to 3 days delay in Skardu, we made up time by not stopping for two scheduled ‘acclimatization’ stops;
It was non-stop trekking since leaving Askole;
Altitude was affecting my stamina and breathing… and possibly my mental outlook;
Always arriving last into camp didn’t always give the most positive vibe;
Instead of hurrying to K2 the next day, possibly we could have rested a day at Concordia to acclimatize to the altitude- which might have been better for my outlook;

WHO KNOWS…that’s all in the past now; the die was cast and decision made for me.

Again, a very cold night- colder than Goro 2 too.

July 15 (fri), our 11^th day, saw me up early and changed and ready for the final section. But my ankle was throbbing. Getting out of the tent was a chore and I realized this was THE END OF THE LINE for me. I gave the news to my group over breakfast- there was no purpose going on to K2 with a twisted, paining ankle. My problem was that I should have rubbed balm and bandaged up the ankle as soon as it had twisted yesterday (which I didn’t think of in the rush to go for dinner) and taken some pain killers.

That morning on returning to the tent, Gul arranged for a Khutcher to take me back next day, while the rest of them would go on to K2.

After breakfast, with a heavy heart I said my goodbyes to the group and to my guides and hobbled back to my tent. Gul had left behind the kitchen setup and the mess tent as they would need it for their return as K2 BC already had the setup there. They planned 3 hours to Broadpeak for tea with Mirza Ali and then onwards to K2.

My family has lived by a principal- WHATEVER HAPPENS, HAPPENS FOR THE BEST.

There must be some good in this- maybe I was not meant to go on; maybe I was meant to experience what I did on my return adventure; maybe I would have got sick with the final 500 meter altitude gain to K2. I will never know; but I did know there must be some good in this though.

The weather cleared and getting good views of K2, shot off some photos from Concordia.

This was the end of the line for me- and tomorrow I would ‘mule’ back to Askole.

One exciting happened at Concordia during the wait on July 15^th – suddenly two army helicopters turned up. On asking Hameed cook, he said it was for an evacuation but the hiker wasn’t at Concordia then. The helicopters flew so low that my entire tent collapsed (with me in it). That was the one time I had a fright thinking the tent and I would roll down Concordia’s slope together! (Well, I’m writing this after three weeks so I guess nothing fatal occurred 😊)

To be concluded ->

Those amazing “mountain-men” of Gilgit-Baltistan (July 5-21, 2022)- 1

Aside | Posted on July 27, 2022 by Dinshaw Avari

July 27, 2022

Being a long blog, I’ve broken it down to three parts-

Pre Trek (going)

The K2 Base Camp (BC) Trek

Post Trek (return)

I hope the pictures do an adequate job of selling our sights of North Pakistan- nothing I can say or describe can even begin to do justice to the mountains of Gilgit-Baltistan, it’s people and what Nature has created on this very Earth we live on.

This is dedicated to the “mountain-men” of Gilgit Baltistan… the Guides, the porters, the “sherpas”, the support staff (cooks, etc) without who’s support this trek would be impossible! What amazing stamina and grit and strength (mental and physical) they have. Most of the time the porters (young & old), merrily skipping along, would be carrying double their body weight, with hardly any jacket (while we were layered up). They would serve us breakfast at 6am; we would set off; very soon, they caught us up with all the mules and baggage and supplier; and would reach the destination camp, with enough time to spare to set up all the tents and have the tea and soup all ready for our arrival; finally make an early dinner for us and still have time to sing and dance after the meals were over!!!

(L-R: Guides Zakirullah – Gul (leader) – Sajjad)

Pre K2 BC Trek (going)- ISB to Askole

So, come July 5, 2022 we take off from ISB for Skardu at 1045am for a cloudy and bumpy ride. I met my fellow trekkers (family of four) at the airport – Alizah from Lahore; Dr Bilal (medical), Farwa & Dr Imran (non-medical), from USA. Imran & I became “Steppies” (😊 more on that later) during the course of the Trek.

Walking around town from our hotel, we stumbled upon a polo match. I Too much dust in Skardu (I thought I had left that behind in Karachi… sigh!) which seemed to create sinus problems for me. Later it dawned that it could also be the altitude.

July 6 (Wed) on our 2nd day in Skardu, started 250mg Diamox for the altitude.

Our guide, Gul, informed us we cannot go on to Askole today as roads are broken due to flooding. They didn’t know the extend of the flooding so were asked to stay on in Skardu, along with all the other K2 trekking (or expedition) groups till some sense of the blockages could be made. In addition, due to this emergency, the ‘authorities’ had shut down their office for a few days so were not issuing any permits for the treks (to neither foreigners or locals). Global warming in it’s true sense has hit the northern areas. With an increase in melting glaciers, the water’s power had destroyed a few bridges and disturbed the route to Askole.

We decided to visit Upper Katchura (2225 meters) for some trout lunch. Being five of us plus Gul and his manager Nasir, we split into two cars. Sitting in the front seat of my car, I started organizing my camera, spotify music etc when I just happened to twist my head backwards and almost jumped out of my skin! … three people were quietly sitting in the back seat looking at me. With slightly tinted windows, I had sat down thinking it’s just the driver and me. Anyway, it turned out to be Sohail (guide) alongwith two German trekkers- Juliane & Willam – who had joined our group.

(Guides- Sohail & Zakirullah) courtesy Farwa

So, our five persons group just became seven people. Out of this, Imran & Farwa, Bilal, Juliane & Willam are all experienced, hard-core trekkers. Only Alizah and I were newbies- absolutely new to trekking, and that too, for this K2 Base Camp (K2 BC) Trek, which is supposed to be one of the hardest ones in the world.

It was a lovely but tiring trek around half Kachura lake. A hot day- sweating. The lake’s water looked so inviting – other locals were doing back flips into the lake.

Our 3^rd day (July 7 Thursday), we were scheduled to leave 8am for Askole. Hotel had especially set up breakfast for us at 7am.

Gul was there and dropped bombshell that road had broken in 6 places and they were trying to get city administration to fix sections. So, our departure plan of going today was really nixed. In fact a couple of trekking groups had left three days before and they were either stuck up on the route to Askole or had returned back to Skardu.

While Gul and other tour operators decided to meet the Dty Commissioner regarding the blockages, we set off for Deosai plains.

Finally, come July 8 (Fri), we left at 6.30am for Askole in two jeeps. Willam, Juliane & I in one and the others in the second. Now, it seems everyone uses these old “FJ” Toyota jeeps – man, are they sturdy as hell, even if not very comfortable; but they do the job they are supposed to do- no modern SUV or jeep would survive these rigours!

Leaving Skardu was not too bad but eventually we came upon broken & bumpy roads…the going was Slow. In Dasu, we stopped for an Army checkpost, after which basically, the “metalled road” came to an end.

Our first road block after Dasu (apprx 35°43’40.9″N 75°40’12.5″E / 35.728019, 75.670144) found one trekking group’s jeep was stuck chassis high in a muddy landslide. The Belgium group who were part of that car, were sitting on the side while the locals were either gaping, giving useless advice or a couple trying to help.

(NOTE: all directional coordinates in this paper are approximate positions only- not to be used for navigation purposes)

It was not until Gul got there to organize the jeep removal that things started moving. Sohail starting shoveling the muck out from under the tires. Gul got everyone involved in throwing stones on the landslide area to make a temporary road surface. Other than our two guides, no one else seemed to be contributing. Eventually, the Belgiums, us and a few locals set up a line through which the rocks were passed on to the road. I must give full credit to our trekker, Juliane, who put her back into helping everywhere possible…more than us lazy Paki sods! There was a tractor at the side of the road, so Gul then organized climbing ropes to be tied to it and the rear of the stuck jeep and managed to pull the jeep out backwards.

About two hours later, the road was relatively clear and the jeeps started crossing over stones. What a relief, we jumped on board and took off.

Around 1PM another flooding (apprx 35°42’29.3″N 75°42’30.3″E / 35.708131, 75.708406) made us leave cars behind and take our backpacks over the blockage on foot. Parts of the bridge had been flooded and a makeshift ladder was placed at the end of the bridge to cross on foot.

Our main backpacks, tents, etc were piled on the side of the road, while we started on foot. With the strong sun and the weight of the day pack, I’ve never felt this exhausted. I was slowest with everyone having passed me…this would be a regular theme for the duration of the trek to Concordia. Gul, taking up the rear, helped me pass the time by making conversation.

I really don’t know how the other team members were managing it, apparently, so easily – I was panting & breathing so hard!

There was only one jeep in between this block and the next one ahead so it would bring our, and other trekkers’ gear, over slowly.

We arrived Pakoru restaurant finally, I think nearly 45 minutes after all the others. This was to be our temporary holding area till all the gear came over. After lunch, Gul managed to hop onto the one jeep back to the luggage and gear, telling us to sit tight here and wait for his return so that the gear and us are together in case we need to make camp anywhere.

A few hours later, some of our gear had come so Sohail, in his wisdom, told us that we’ll go over the last blockage and take jeeps on the other wide to Askole; and Gul would follow. We told him that that’s not what was instructed by Gul but he said we’ll go on. I assumed that Gul may have sent word to him with the luggage for us to make our move and he’ll catch up. Believe me, Gul wasn’t happy with this course of action when he caught up with us in Askole! Did he ever have “words” with Sohail.

The third blockage was just on the other side of this Pakoru restaurant. After climbing up a small hill and then down another steep hill (both which knocked the breath out of me!), we came to the 3rd blockage. The entire bridge had been washed away (appx 35°41’45.3″N 75°43’13.4″E / 35.695910, 75.720394).

While we waited, the locals temporarily created a makeshift bridge with 2 long wooden logs and wooden slats on top, to walk over.

On the opposite side, the jeeps were waiting which eventually took us to Askole (appx 35°40’59.0″N 75°49’01.6″E or 35.683055, 75.817110)

Now, here’s the thing- when we were in Skardu my fellow trekkers informed that we were supposed to jeep to Askole and onwards to Jhola camp as the road had been extended up to there. I thought to myself, isn’t that “cheating”- I paid for a trek from Askole to K2 so why are we jeeping to Jhola camp!? After doing this ‘shortish’ trek from the 2^nd block to Pakoru – which for me was the FIRST EVER trek I have ever undertaken – I thanked GOD for the jeep plan to Jhola! No more silly thinking about trekking to Jhola. If this was trekking, with my back already hurting, the sun beating down my head and neck, what the hell was I going to do when the actual trek started from Jhola onwards!

To be continued —>

The Year: 2300 – “Great…Great…Great Gran’ Pappa, What Was Your Most Romantic Valentine Ever?”

Posted on February 18, 2022 by Dinshaw Avari

February 15, 2022

…and my answer to my ‘great great great’ grand children would be …

“Well, my great great great grandchildren, on February 14, 2022, Byram Jr (your ‘great great’ grandfather), Dinshaw Jr (your ‘great great’ grand uncle & I took the bus from Multan to Islamabad”!

(As an aside, the Avari family is well known as NOT being very imaginative or creative when it comes to naming our family members 😊 )

(As a second “aside”- maybe the most “romantic” thing my wife & I have done is going to Boat Basin (Clifton, Karachi) for a surprise Valentine’s dinner some years back – would that count!? 😊

So we flew to Multan on 13^th Feb and managed to finish our work on Feb 14^th afternoon, so decided to take the bus to Islamabad.

(On our last road trip to Islamabad (refer “https://dinshawavari.wordpress.com/2021/10/19/i-aint-afraid-of-no-breakdown-sung-to-the-theme-song-of-ghostbusters-%f0%9f%98%8a/”), we crossed (& were overtaken by) many passenger buses… and very impressive looking too. One such bus was “Faisal Movers” and I saw a smartly dressed driver with a smartly dressed hostess on board. The best part was we were cruising at 120 kph and so was he, a safe distance back. I just felt this looks like a good company to try).

So, we left the Faisal Movers terminal in Multan at 5.20pm, reaching the M-4 toll plaza at 5.40pm. In these 20 minutes, our driver was very very “liberal” with the loud & shrill horn- best part is, it seems to be part of the Multan culture. The only other place where I have heard this level of horns blaring are with the Mumbai taxi drivers, who seem to take particular pleasure in leaning on the horn- for no rhyme or reason 😊.

We got very very very comfortable business class seats – recliners – foot rest coming out – air conditioning – cold drinks & mineral water – a small tiffin (which we didn’t open) – latest movies ON DEMAND (including the latest James Bond)!!!!! – and a constant commentary (rather monologue) by the hostess with the driver to ensure he doesn’t fall asleep 😊.

Cruising at 120 kph, we were expertly driven to the M-2 interchange three hours later. Only thing, my sound system wasn’t working, so I saw my first movie, Marvel’s “Shang Chi & the legend of the ten rings” (which occupied two hours of the journey) soundless.

At 9.30pm we reached our first (& only rest stop) at Bhera – you can have your fill off any local delights or Hardees, McDonalds, etc. A very nice rest stop, with all the different toilets that meet your budget.

Out of the next three hour ride, 1½ hours were taken up with a comedy/action “Jungle Cruise”- again as a ‘silent’ movie.

In between, B, D & I dozed; chit chatted; took photos & videos for this blog (please refer Twitter for the videos as I’m too cheap to pay for the “movie” version on this blog site); saw some fireworks.

Surprisingly, 6½ hours passed off relatively easily and not a bore.

The Islamabad terminal is hardly 5 minutes by car from our Avari Xpress Islamabad hotel, so in no time we were at the hotel and enjoying a delicious Mutton Karahi and Surso ka Saag!

While Multan-ISB is long, and we’d have shaved off 30-60 minutes by driving a car, the bus was exceedingly comfortable – clean – spacious – safe – and … a novelty.

Don’t mind spending my next Valentine – that time with my wife 😊 – on another bus journey!!!

“JAMVA CHALO JI – A Parsi Occasion to Cherish”

Posted on February 8, 2022 by Dinshaw Avari

February 8, 2022

The below post is being reposted verbatim from a Facebook post which was shared

with me by my Twitter friend Jigar Budhdev.

Not only is it light & witty but it 100% recreates a typical Mumbai Navjote ceremony.

It’s a real treat eating in this traditional Parsi method 😊

Dinshaw

(A little long 😊)

QUOTE

‘Desmond has a barrow in the market place…….Molly is the singer in the band…… Desmond says to Molly……….Girl I like your face……..And Molly says this as she takes him by his hand……..Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da…………Life goes on bra………….’

Early early 70s band playing by 7:30 in the evening……..sas, cousins, friends, me……

all swinging our bodies left………..right……..forward……backwards to our favourite melodious tune…….

What a joy it was to dance on the podium below…..…to the tune of our mini orchestra playing above us………..

Would be Goody Seervai or Nelly and band or James Dubash and his jukebox jammies.

Our other normal songs to swing on would be………..Help me if you can…..….Number 54 the house with the bamboo door …….. It’s been a Hard days nights…….Lipstick on your collar and many many more old time favourites .

Occasion would be a Parsi Navjote or Parsi Wedding…….…Venue would normally be Colaba ni Agiary (wondorous sea view location……at the end of Bombay) or Albess Baugh at Charni Road……rarely our member lawns at the Race course would be used (for a huge crowd normally) or Cama Baugh (small crowd) at Grant Road.

The beginning would be……..

…an invite for a Navjote or Wedding Ceremony………. 20 days in advance the invitation would reach us.

Navjote is a Parsi religious ceremony performed to initiate a Parsi child (normal age group would be 7 to 10 years) in the Zoroastrian community………….by 3 dastoorjis ( Parsi priests ) reciting holy prayers and adorning the sudreh (white linen cloth….to be worn as a vest with a rectangular shaped patch embedded on the chest area along with a Kushti (a sacred girdle worn by Zoroastrians around their waist).

Ceremony is always performed between sunrise and sunset. Close relatives and family friends are normally present for this custom……….

The fun and frolic begins after sunset.

By about 7.00 pm guests would start pouring in the venue……….

men usually dressed in a white Parsi dagli (a longish sort of white coat embedded with several bow tie knots and a white pant) or their evening wear suits………prim and proper.

Women normally adorned in a GARA saree (hand made heavily embroidered fabric…. sporting designs such as ornamental flowers, rustling leaves or Chinese sceneries) so intricately designed ..…..so classy.

Basra pearl neckless…..bracelets, diamond studded earrings, delectable ruby rings gracing ladylike fingers……..traditional gold jewelery …………Truly a jewelery cum fashion parade to be witnessed.

Bar would open by 7.30 pm and first sitting of food would normally begin by 8.00 pm.

Limited snacks would be served….. yes……yes……..very limited……wafers and more wafers…. cheese balls…occasionally mutton and veg teen patti samosas ….…. and of course there would be Raspberry…..Lemonade……Mangola….Coca Cola …… Sosyo….Fanta and many more cold drinks.

How we would relish our Raspberry with wafers……….. seemed like a treat.

Bar would be packed……..Whiskey, Rum, Vodka normally served….…Big bowl of Ice placed on two corners alongwith wafers and more wafers placed in four corners of the hall……….…big line for soda………small line for water.

There would always be a rush for the ice and wafers….…

Some would relish their drink downstairs…….some standing by the bar or sitting with a group of friends discussing the cuisine of our new restaurants opened in town.

Parsees loved their food …. We all do ! But Parsees also liked discussing about all new restaurants of Mumbai city … which eatery served the best dhansak……… best chicken makhani ……. best biryani ……… Adi Marzbans plays would be discussed . Real serious conversation ………. till it was time for dinner.

Normally (depending on crowd) there would be three sittings for food .

Vegan food would be normally supplied by Thackers Chetana or Golden Star thali or any famous Thali speciality joint. Huge thal placed on the table ….. 3 types of pickles, papads, three types of farsan, three vegetable preparations, dal rice, veg pulav all unlimited……. followed by chappatis and puris. Delicious spread followed by ice cream or kulfi……… Wholesome veg meal.

Many caterers specialised in authentic Parsi Lagan nu bhonu ……… but our favourite was Godiwalla caterers (Preffered by most Parsis ). Yummlicious cuisine semi cooked in the evening and fully prepared during our dinner sittings.

Second paat (sitting) would begin by about 9:30 pm ….… normally our regular sitting paat ….… all depending on our proximity with our dear relations and friends (closely related…. Good friends…….would be 3rd paat or final paat.

Dad and me would visit the eatery area (lovely sitting place with cool wind blowing by the seaside at Colaba ni agiari) and block seats by tilting chairs or informing the supervisor ….

.. 4….6…10 all depending on how many of us would want to sit together ……….

Tan ta Tan………. Grand Finale would begin.

Banana leaf placed on our table ……. Spoon, Fork tucked in a napkin …….

Cold drinks man would arrive …….. Raspberry, Ginger, Lemonade, Sosyo, Coke, Fanta, Mangola….the list endless ……. placing our glass and pouring our drinks……..….

ice man would follow in a jiffy … placing ice in our glass ….. lots and lots of ice …..

lagan nu achaar (sweet and hot carrot pickle) …. and sago wafers …… so fresh very crispy …….. along with piping hot chapattis. Would prepare a pickle roll and begin our culinary journey…… relish sago wafers with pickle and……….

Lo to behold…….our Fish preparation would arrive …. Choice would be limited …….. Patra ni Machi Or Saas ni Machi. Would opt for the latter……insist on a Tail piece….Sweet and sour gravy….. thick lightish beige preparation of boiled Pomfret (love the mini tomatoes)…. Would devour with chapatti …. Tongue tingling preparation…….…melt in mouth tender fish……..

In the meantime Cold drinks, Sago Wafers, Lagan nu Achar and Chappatis would be floating around us while we feast……feel thirsty have a sip of our Raspberry….savour the Sago Wafers with our saas……and before we finish our preparation , second round of fish would follow…….…Yummilicious…. we would just keep on feasting.

Two helpings of our main course would always be served.

Next dish would be a Chicken Farcha OR Salima Chicken /Mutton …..Piping hot…..…atmosphere smokie …… smokie……

Our favourite would be the older brother of Kentucky Fried Chicken …….. known as Chicken Farcha …..Luscious leg piece of chicken marinaded in ginger, garlic, red chilly powder and packed in a whisked egg mixture along with bread crumbs…….. Truly a semi spicy chicken continental preparation….too tempting to eat a second leg piece of farcha……..Too too too tempting……

But ….but….but……

In between an Egg and/or Paneer dish would be served………. ….….Tasty……..very tasty egg akuri…….

and the hosts would come around to thank us for our presence……..

but we got more to feast on….yes…..yes..…hold your breath.……

two servers would arrive with a big bowl of Mutton Pulav…… saffron rice……..Meat flavoured with whole spices and marinaded in yoghurt and spices ……..…..insist on a lustrous piece of meat tugged to a marrow bone…..delicious……insist on two melt in mouth potatoes..….

make sure you have enough lagan nu achaar and allow the server to pour thick brownish dal on top……some keep the dal aside……… Dal is very similar to Dhansak dal……but thickish … 4 different lentils, ginger garlic paste, pumpkins, potatoes, cilantro and mint leaves added… Appetizing preparation of lentils and vegetables…One helping should be enough….really filling….too tasty…..

but we stuff ourselves with one more small filling…bang the marrow bone on the patra….savour the thick juices…….too too flavoursome.

Traditional Parsi lagan nu custard served at the end…..cleansing our taste buds………simple creamy, milky, eggy preparation of cardamom and nutmegs prepared with vanilla essence……

At times even an ice cream or Kulfi is served….but….but…but ….how much can we eat.

Time to fold our patra (meal over ) ………..Ooh..ooh..what a delectable meal !!!

Major difference between food served in the past and now is the amount of starters served…Yes…now-a-days there are too many luscious and spicy/ non spicy preparations served from the beginning … (no one is complaining ….all of us our happy….we should know our limits)……galoti kababs……chicken tikka ….. tandoori fish tikka ….golden fried prawns…fish fingers….ginger chicken the list is endless.

All so tasty…that we keep on tasting and tasting…..

Also the mini orchestra’s are amiss…..

Mostly recorded music played by DJ Mahrukh Bagli satiating our requests…….Change is constant.

And back to our function…..

The mini orchestra would end by 11 pm( till the 90s )…….….but many a times extended till 11:30 pm and our Parents would dance away the night in oblivion to James Dubash singing……

“Night’s in White Satin…….. Never reaching the end……….”

UNQUOTE

Author- Mozam P Murzban in Old Bombay Group on FB (https://www.facebook.com/mozam.murzban.5)

(Photos are stock photos from Internet- due credit to their authors)

My Life on the Green Line

Posted on January 30, 2022 by Dinshaw Avari

January 31, 2022

(Well, not “my life” but definitely A Sunday Outing!)

Hearing so much about the Breeze Project “Green Line BRT” (Bus Rapid Transit), I decided to do a Sunday outing on it. Mobile in hand and a large mineral water, I entered a very clean NUMAISH station; quick purchase of a ticket (Rs. 55 one way); and an easy and quick boarding onto the 11:20 bus.

Clear markers indicate various facilities or the way to the bus. On the return, I saw the electronic ticketing booths, which when operational, will make life even easier.

The ticketing agent didn’t bat an eyelid when I said I wanted to go to the “end of the line”. Indicates the number of people like me for whom the “ride” is the experience and not the destination.

The bus itself was very clean, well airconditioned, well maintained and not a rowdy lot on board either. (As an aside, it shows that we Pakis can also be disciplined if given the opportunity and circumstances to be!). It’s a great employment generator too.

There is limited seating in three compartments- the first is for ladies only; the middle for families; and the last was the “men only” section, which I boarded.

So, the current run is upto “Green Line BRT Abdullah Chowk” in Surjani Town- about 19 km, which we completed in almost exactly 55 minutes. The return journey was exactly the same time. The bus route is exclusive, so the 55 minutes should be the same every time of the day, every day of the week – unaffected by traffic. An excellent commuter service to people driving into, or leaving, Saddar. Eventually it will extend all the way to Tower at I.I. Chundrigar Road. If operated correctly and with the right quantity of buses, there’s no reason why motorcycle commuters, primarily, won’t convert to this service.

Nadeem, my seat companion was doing exactly what I was- a tourist on the BRT. He too wanted to experience the Green Line. Like us, I saw families in front who seemed to be out on the same outing as us.

Total number of stations, including Numaish, currently are 22 and while one of the other passengers thought it was too many, I felt it’s fine because of the ease for commuters along this line to pick up (or get off) this service.

I would suggest that as the popularity grows, to have at least every third bus (they leave every 5 minutes) as the “family & women only” bus. The rest of the buses can be for all genders (ie mainly men).

The Green line ends at 10pm but I would also suggest to extend the service till midnight at least, which will help the night shift workers in their commute. Having one guard on the night service should be considered as it will give more confidence to women commuters, especially for a future “women & family only” bus.

The question remains, will this excellent facility for Karachiites remain maintained!?

(P.s. please see my Twitter & IG accounts for videos)

“Till Death Do Us Apart” (NO… It’s not from ‘Romeo & Juliet’ 😊😊😊)

Posted on November 16, 2021 by Dinshaw Avari

November 16, 2021

My wife & I saw an absolutely unique exhibition by Maaria & Waseem Ahmed, a husband-wife duo today at Sanat Gallery in Karachi (https://goo.gl/maps/uhPHZZi6cMLLPae88).

Commune Artist Colony, where Sanat Initiative is located

In my layman’s tongue, the exhibition portrays “PARTITION”. What’s unique about this?

It is a collaboration between Maaria’s photographs, overlaid with her husband, Waseem’s, painting. It was something fresh & new … at least for me.

And, it’s not morbid.

I’m not an artist … nor a critique … nor an art Connoisseur! But we really appreciated the works- by seeing it first hand at the gallery.

In the caption boxes below the photos, I put in my inadequate interpretation of what I believe each picture depicts.

The exhibition runs till November 25^th

(P.S. It was a pleasure running into Quddus Mirza & Amin Gulgee there too!)

This Rose is actually missing at Noor Jahan’s Tomb, which Waseem has painted on the right … depicting the bloodshed of 1947!

I Ain’t Afraid of No …. Breakdown (Sung to the theme song of Ghostbusters) 😊

Posted on October 19, 2021 by Dinshaw Avari

October 19, 2021

Dear Diary

My mother, son (Byram) and I left Karachi by road on October 9, 2021 for Multan and Islamabad.

Saturday, Oct 9- 8.30am- Leave for Multan (126546 Km on Odomoter) 3pm- Arrive Ranipur Sugar Mills 8.50pm- Arrive Multan Toll Plaza 9.10pm- Arrived Avari Boutique, Multan (127420 Km)

One of the best Motorways IN THE WORLD I have ever traveled on, so far, is the latest Sukkur-Multan one. It was an absolute pleasure to cruise on that. It felt like the car was on MAGLEVs.

But the bugs that hit the car traveling in Punjab’s dusk 😱😱😱😱

A simple dinner and ahhhhh…. A refreshing sleep after 12 hours of driving!

Sunday, Oct 10- 1215pm- Leave for Islamabad (127424 Km) 6.20pm- Arrive Islamabad Toll Plaza 7pm- Arrived Avari Xpress Islamabad (127424 Km)

There’s a really nice shop in Multan, very close to our Hotel, called Pak Handicrafts, just 2 km away. After buying 2 cartons of Multani pottery we made our way onwards to Islamabad.

After passing the Salt Range, we experienced, what I believe, a hail storm. Slow going but an interesting drive in the rain.

However, the consequences of the word “Interesting” can be construed in many ways ☹ ….

Monday, Oct 11- Car started but no readings or lights on instrument panel

Presumably, while parked overnight, in the rain, with the drain of the sun roof blocked, the water must have found its way down the two side frames of the car into the fuse box(es).

On further testing, mechanicals were all fine; electrical connections were all fine; but the instrument panel didn’t work nor did the airconditioning, but car was still drivable.

Tuesday, October 12- 12.30pm- Leave for Lahore with parents (127980 Km) ??? pm- Arrive Avari Lahore Hotel (128360 Km)

So, with no airconditioning and a rough indication with cruise control that we were under the 120 KPH limit, we arrived sometime late on Tuesday night- hot, sweaty, dusty for most of the trip, but slightly cooled off by the time dusk hit us. From hereon, all mileage calculations were done as per Google maps as the odometer reading was also off.

Wednesday, October 13- 1015am Leave for Multan (128367 Km) 3pm Arrive Avari Xpress Hotel, Multan (128,380 Km)

Believe me, it’s not too much fun driving with open windows in Punjab’s heat … but again, it is an “experience” 😊.

On the 14^th, by 1pm, we realized we had completed our work and there was no real reason to stay back another day. Byram & I decided that if we can reach Sukkur by 7pm, we can make Karachi same night by 11pm (add an hour’s margin, so say 12 midnight).

Now, don’t forget, we have no a/c (how spoilt we are!) and no operating control panel, so we don’t know our speed nor how much diesel we would use. So one more visit to Pak Handicrafts, then topping up the diesel and off we left.

Thursday, October 14- 3.30pm Leave for Sukkur (128720 Km) 6.45pm Arrive Rohri-Sukkur Toll Plaza (129,125 Km)

Leaving Sukkur had quite a bit of traffic and I wasn’t sure if we could make Karachi by midnight. We would make a call at Ranipur, whether to stay over at a friend’s or push on … PUSH ON we did!

(By the way, from this point onwards, as far as our parents were concerned, we were overnighting in Ranipur 😱)

9.45pm found us at a roadside restaurant in Moro for a quick dinner … and the car worse for wear. With all the lights dimming, we didn’t know what to expect next so just kept the car running through the one hour dinner stop, rightly apprehensive it wouldn’t start again. (129,230 Km)

At 1045pm, as we left the diner, the car decided it was not going anywhere in a hurry and groaned & moaned it’s way down N5 – at that point we decided it may be better to turn around and travel back to Ranipur and sleep the night and figure out the car next morning. 5 minutes later, the car packed up on the side of the road ☹!!! It just stalled … no starter … no click … no clack! (129,285 Km)

It turned out, with the help of really good Samaritans, we found out both the batteries were shot (and these are new, just replaced in June 2021). In our conveniently stranded location, mechanics and battery-wallas were all over the place; we managed to quick charge both batteries; and at 2am decided it’s better to continue to push through for Karachi instead of head back 2 hours to Ranipur.

The going was good for exactly one hour, when the same symptoms “enlightened” us and we came to another permanent stop at a TOTAL pump just before Naya Saeedabad toll plaza. (129,278 Km)

Between 3am and 3.30, we contacted the Motorway Police; reported our problem, requesting towing/trucking services; spoke to one of their mobiles which passed by; and finally were informed there was nothing that could be done till 7am.

So, in a first of an EXPERIENCE, Byram lay down across the back seat, I lay across the two front seats, two pillows behind our respective heads and went off in a deep deep 💤💤💤.

At 6.30am, I again contact the H’way Police who sent another mobile. The police gave me the number of a tow truck company in Hyderabad who I contacted, who sent Abdullah with his recovery truck some hours later; and with the car on the truck, we finally set off at noon on OCTOBER 15, 2021 for Karachi at 12.20 noon … but this time, sitting in our car, which was on top of the recovery truck.

Five minutes later, the truck had a FLAT!!!!

We hit Hyderabad’s 37⁰ heat (Felt like 🔥) at 1.50pm; Abdullah stopped for us to enjoy a chilled, refreshing Gunnay ka Juice (Sugarcane Juice) and we crossed the River Indus 15 minutes later on our way for the final leg; arriving Toyota Motors at 6pm, dropping off the car and arriving home at 7pm! (129,278 Km)

My wife and I have driven Karachi to Lahore in 2016; we drove Karachi to London in 2017; and now in 2021, Byram & I to Islamabad and back; but what is the takeaway from this story –

Possibly consider doing our overlanding/next road trip like this … sitting in the comfort of your own car, ON TOP OF a flatbed, being driven around the world… 😆😁.

(By the way, the pin location for the sugarcane juice in Hyderabad, if anyone’s interested, is 25°23’50.3″N 68°19’48.5″E – https://goo.gl/maps/7Pw8w4gChE1pkspPA)

(‘Another’ by the way- for anyone interested, the recovery company is Shamim Recovery Service (Pak Movers)- 0313 5036666, 0301 5036666, 0333 5036666, 0303 5036666)

There’s A Moral to Every Story 😊

Posted on September 28, 2021 by Dinshaw Avari

September 28, 2021

There’s something very liberating about a motorbike. It has given me access to areas of Karachi which I would not have thought of going ever, let alone in a car.

This Sunday, out of the blue, the crocodiles (or is it alligator?) of Mangopir (https://goo.gl/maps/ZTceiLzjUpBCyJieA) came to mind, so off I set on my little US70 at 1145am. Instead of a 40 minute (as per Google Maps) ride, it took me over an hour to get there … all along getting dehydrated in the sun’s heat (even though I kept sipping my backpack water cooler). The going was all fine & dandy till I came to the Naya Nazimabad project- and there the roads were hell. Potholes filled with either sewage water or the previous days’ rainwater; clay-like mud; and no wind to cool the face in the helmet!

The end result was my clothes & shoes were a complete mess & my bike had changed colour to ‘brown’!

It was a pleasure to see the crocodiles in their enclosure. We can crib all we want that animal protectionism doesn’t exist in Pakistan; and this & that; but at this Sanctuary, the crocs are fed, taken care of AND revered.

As an aside- Karachi has so many tourist attractions … if only we can fix the infrastructure to make them easily accessible ☹ to us.

Returning, I decided to do so from the Hub Dam road & Northern Bypass … BIIIIIG mistake! The sun was just too hot and there was no wind. The water I was drinking most probably wasn’t replenishing the dehydration enough.

The Mangopir Road (leading northwards to the Hub Dam Road) was never ending. Eventually, I saw a “PEPSI” sign at a roadside Dhaba and just had to stop. I was panting away from the heat and dehydration. AFTER a 45 minutes rest, two 7-Ups, a full litre of cold water and sucking on a lemon, I was refreshed enough to set on again. I truly bless the dhaba people for looking after me and letting me rest under the fan.

At 3.15pm I finally reached home into the comforts of an a/c!

What’s the moral here-

DON’T travel to Mangopir

… IN Summer’s Heat

… ON a Motorbike

… ON broken roads

… WITHOUT protection from Sun or Dehydration!

Would I do it again … DEFINITELY! 😊

(p.s.- see the video posted on Twitter)

The Flip Side of the Coin … for Motorcycles

Posted on September 20, 2021 by Dinshaw Avari

September 20, 2021

(https://me.me/i/the-most-dangerous-partof-a-motorcycle-isthenut-connecting-theseat-to-06b284e19e7c462e9b42d4b4a8e54fee)

I have to admit I love to bitch. Since 3 years now, it feels soooooo good…

For the Love of … Motorcycles?

Can We Please BAN Motorcycles on Karachi’s Roads!?

I bitch about our roads;

I bitch about the way people drive;

I bitch about minimal implementation of traffic laws;

I bitch about the rickshaw drivers;

…and, most of all, I’ve bitched about our motorcyclists!

But come JAN 2021 – I JOINED THEM – https://dinshawavari.wordpress.com/2021/04/01/i-bitched-ranted-raved-and-then-joined-them-%f0%9f%98%8a/

… Is that good? Is that bad? Let’s see 🤔

Since I started riding my United, US-70, 2018 model, I’ve not changed my opinion about the rash driving of motorcyclists on the roads. They still cut in front, don’t obey or use the traffic laws, drive with abandon … and most of all they drive with a “maute ki khawaish” (death wish 😊)!

However, since I joined the motorcycle ranks (probably the only one on the road wearing a helmet, elbow guards, knee guards, ankle guards & gloves – looking like a veritable “clown” 😊), I’ve come to realize that, while 60% of the problems on the roads are caused by “us” motorcyclists, 4-wheelers share the blame by hardly giving any quarter to motorcyclists!

Is this a vicious tennis match being played out on the canvas of human life … where cars & buses drive like maniacs, always in a rush to get somewhere, giving no space to motorcycles to maneuver; motorcyclists retaliate by driving like maniacs; and 4-wheelers react back????

You actually need to wear ‘both caps’ – being in the driving seat of a 2-wheeler and a 4-wheeler – to really appreciate the driving antics of the other vehicle driver.

Let me assure you, I’m not in this category 😊 !

Will this ever get resolved? NOT IN OUR LIFETIME! Till then …. BITCH AWAY!

Dinshaw Avari- Trying my Hand at Blogging!

Avari Hotels- family business- Pretend but wanna-be blogger – Blog- https://dinshawavari.wordpress.com – Twitter @dinshawavari

Tag Archives: #AvariLahore

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The Year: 2300 – “Great…Great…Great Gran’ Pappa, What Was Your Most Romantic Valentine Ever?”

“JAMVA CHALO JI – A Parsi Occasion to Cherish”

My Life on the Green Line

“Till Death Do Us Apart” (NO… It’s not from ‘Romeo & Juliet’ 😊😊😊)

I Ain’t Afraid of No …. Breakdown (Sung to the theme song of Ghostbusters) 😊

There’s A Moral to Every Story 😊

The Flip Side of the Coin … for Motorcycles

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