5th October 2013 Sukkur, Pakistan to Multan, Pakistan

5th October 2013 Sukkur, Pakistan to Multan, Pakistan

A fairly miserable day…. riding while feeling crook. The NH5 is a decent enough road, no escorts, no checkpoints.

We had choices…. Ride into Multan, Pakistan’s 5^th largest city or ride past and stop at Khanewal, close to the highway. We elected for Multan on the basis that continuing on the highway any longer was marginally more unpleasant than negotiating a huge city. We arrived at the outskirts and negotiated a rickshaw escort/guide. The young driver got out of his rickshaw and onto the back of my bike….

Sheza Inn, the Lonely Planet describe it as Multans 2^nd best hotel. It was OK. 3000PR + 25% luxury tax (debateable as to whether we benefitted from any luxury…) As we entered a security guy searched us and our bags for alcohol! We took off on a beer hunting expedition, we found beer but bought none. A sad state of affairs… the “Permit office” staff told us that we could only drink it in a secret place, not in their office, not on the street and not in our hotel. L

Multan Mileometer 21178 (234 miles ridden)

4th October 2013 Quetta, Pakistan to Sukkur, Pakistan

4th October 2013 Quetta, Pakistan to Sukkur, Pakistan

We exited the city, passed from one police mobile unit to another. We skirted tented slums blanketed in the thickest smog I have ever seen…. The origin of this smog…. brick kilns. It was, I imagined, something like “The black country” Birmingham, prior to and entering the industrial age.

Take a look at this youtube video of Quetta morning traffic...... blanket of smog in the background

http://youtu.be/xPx1Oe_h3g8

Leaving the city we were escorted by district Police, stopping at many, many checkpoints. Our route for the day Quetta to Sibi, Sibi to Jacobad, Jacobad to Sukkur. The road falling from Quetta to Sibi is very beautifull. Quetta is at an altitude of almost 2000 metres, even in summer it is cool. Winter must be horrific for the slum dwellers. The road follows a river gorge, it is spectacular, I looked on with envy as village people played in river pools.

Our day’s ride was pleasant enough allowed marred by an unbelievable number of escorts and checkpoints…. Sometimes we rode at 15mph and never above 45mph. Within an hour of sunset I made the decision to break away from the escorts, otherwise we would have been travelling in, and finding a hotel in the dark. The roads were great and we rode at 60-70mph. The escorts simply gave up and let us be.

We arrived in Sukkur and checked into the City Palace Guesthouse 2300PR. It was a Friday so no beer was available…… We ate takeaway pizza and retired to our rooms. We were both ill through the night. At one point in the night I heard a light knocking…. I wondered whether it was a thief checking to see if I was asleep… un-nerving. A poorly night.

Sukkur Mileometer 21178 (234 miles ridden)

3rd October 2013 Collecting travel documents, Quetta Pakistan

3rd October 2013 Collecting travel documents, Quetta Pakistan

Once you have arrived in Quetta you become a cog inside a machine. A day after arrival you must visit the Government of Baluchistan offices and request an NOC (no objection certificate). This is a lengthy, whole day process. We travelled to the government office in an AutoRickshaw guarded by cops on a bike. At one point a donkey cart appeared to race us….. At the first office we visited, a very irate Italian guy in a wheelchair turned up. He had apparently had some very poor experiences with local police. His name was Fabio, he travelled the world in a converted car…. He was returning from a trip where he had covered 30,000 km, travelling through all the countries I had travelled through plus Uzbekistan, Tajikistan…..

Fabio had recently upgraded to a Renault Duster, having covered 700,000 km around the globe in a Fiat Panda.

Most of the staff in the Home Affairs department are kind and helpful, tea is offered on a number of occaisions. I took my laptop with me and wrote up a little of my blog to make use of waiting hours.

NOC in hand we headed back to the BloomStar. The staff informed us that a Petrol strike had begun. We had seen something that confirmed this! My bike had run so low the previous night that I had been worried that I might run out en route to the hotel. The dramatic performance from one of the staff was spellbinding “Oh sir, big problem, big, big problem. No petrol available….” He then listed all the local petrol stations stroking his chin in supposed deep contemplation…. “I have a friend who may be able to help… very expensive” We finally settled on 240PR a litre, having paid 113PR on our journey to Quetta. We purchased 20 litres… it arrived apparently by rickshaw, for which we paid 200PR…..

The following morning we were ready to depart at 7.00am, the time dictated by the NOC. The police arrived and we set out, 500 metres later we passed a petrol station……. Yes you guessed it, doing what petrol stations do….

2nd October 2013 Taftan, Pakistan to Quetta Pakistan

2nd October Taftan, Pakistan to Quetta Pakistan

We left the compound at 7.20am….. Our escort, 2 Levies riding a Chinese 125cc motorcycle, that with God’s speed managed 40mph. After a very short while the Levies gestured for us to proceed ahead of them. We never saw them again. 

The road from Taftan to Quetta is approximately 380 miles long. It traverses all manner of desert and runs parallel to and at a distance of 10 to 20 miles from the Afghan border. The road is considered to be very dangerous. Yesterday the police had repeatedly told of its risks…. Taliban, Separatists, Dacoits. Today we are riding the very same road alone…. That is until we reached the first check-point. The road had 30 or so checkpoints along its length. At each checkpoint you have to fill out a logbook with hand written columns. Each log book has its own individual requirements… Name, fathers name, passport number, visa number, origin, destination and country… any combination of, some, or all of the above. I noted in several logbooks the column heading Cuntry.

Our next escort was a young guy carrying an AK47. He rode pillion on the back of Tomas’s bike.

Temperatures rose to 41 degrees and remained at this level for most of the day. The desert is populated by many camels and few people. Much of the desert is a completely flat stony wasteland. The road is very quiet. The stretch from Taftan to Nokundi is mixed with some fairly poor stretches. From Nokundi to Dalbandin to the road is excellent and we travelled very fast. Tomas’s bike suffered under the burden of 2 men and heavy panniers so I carried successive escorts for 200 miles or so. It is an odd feeling having a guy sat behind you at 80mph, carrying an AK47 across his thighs or in various other positions as he attempts to hang on.

At Dalbandin the police used the now, well worn phrase “Time out” we politely told them that we could reach Quetta with no problem before nightfall….. oh how very wrong we would prove to be. We were allowed to continue and the road worsened. Dalbandin to Nushki was really poor in parts. We arrived at Nushki at about 5.30. Only the most insistent persuasion allowed us to continue. As night fell we both hit a speed-breaker at…… speed! An aluminium pannier was ripped of Tomas’s bike and a rear wheel hugger of mine. Tomas’s pannier was re-attached with an English ratchet strap, I had to take my rear wheel off to unbolt the twisted metalwork that luckily did almost no damage. The final stretch of road approaching Quetta is in parts 4-5 miles from Afghanistan. There is no border as such. Removing your rear wheel at dusk on this road is something that you do briskly.

We finally arrived at the outskirts of Quetta at about 7.30pm, population, about 2,000,000. Quetta Is a very dangerous place. The police and army are very well organised and escort you using a series of coordinated mobile units to you chosen hotel. We requested the Gardenia Resort… which was full. We then headed for BloomStar Hotel. This is a backpacker / overlander favourite 1000PR. We finally arrived at about 9.00pm. A very lengthy, exhausting day.

Advice for the overlander…. Unless you you like very, very, long days spend the night in Dalbandin (just as the Levies Police suggest ;-) ……

The staff at BloomStar are the most gifted grifters I have ever met. They know every trick in the book. We asked for beer and were quoted 600PR a can …£4. I haggled down to 400PR. I neglected to ask about wifi when we checked in, it of course was then an additional service costing 250PR…… but the staff assured me faster then a bullet from an AK47.

BloomStar is a fair hotel… not worthy of any stars (I believe it awards itself 3) but none the less is a pleasant place to stay. They have a nice courtyard garden and are a mile or 2 from the city centre.

Today Thomas taught me some German.... "Das ist fuer den arsch" this translates to I find this situation completely unacceptable and interolerable. When a policeman asks you to write something on a scrap of newspaper for no good reason .... or when the hotel reception ask for 600PR for a beer ....Das ist fuer den arsch. 

Quetta mileometer 20944 (392 miles ridden..... too many miles!)

1st October 2013 MirJaVeh, Iran to Taftan, Pakistan

1^st October MirJaVeh, Iran to Taftan, Pakistan

We got up at 7am. The hotel manageress made us some tea flavoured with cinnamon, served with flat bread. Tea flavoured with the smallest pinch of cinnamon works beautifully.

The police guard arrived at 8am. We rode 100 metres to the petrol station to which the night before we were not allowed to visit. The petrol station would not sell us petrol. The pump attendants directed us to the black market petrol sellers no more than 20 metres away. They were a ragtag bunch of chancers with several dozen 20 litre plastic containers full of “Benzeeen”. Black market petrol was sold to us for 10,000 IR a litre. Our police escort tried to intervene and negotiate a lower price, but without success. We topped up to over flowing and left for the border. 5 kilometres towards the border we were held at a checkpoint for more than hour, we anticipated an incoming escort pickup with a big machine gun truck…. Ultimately a young unarmed conscript walked out of an office and climbed onto the back of my bike. The hour we spent sat by the roadside could not be accounted for.

The young conscript guided us through police checks, carnet processing and exit visa stamps very efficiently. Hello Pakistan.

The various Pakistani checks completed, the time was then 1.00pm, Pakistani time (one and a half hours on from Tehran time)

The Levies police guided us into their compound. “Time out” ….. It was apparently too late to travel to Dalbandin, midway between Taftan and Quetta. The police guided us to a room which was to be our accommodation for the night. Around the compound were other rooms, mainly with bars at the window! Around the interior of the compound were a number of cells. We spent the night in the company of 23 prisoners who were being held primarily for immigration violations. Some of the prisoners spoke better English than the Levies Police. Communication was discouraged. ;-)

One of the prisoners told me that I had very beautifull eyes. Modesty forbids! and whilst I was all  but overcome by his flattery I reflect that prison affects men in different ways.

Taftan Mileometer 20552 (8 miles ridden)

30th September 2013 Bam, Iran to MiJaVeh, Iran

30^th September 2013  Bam, Iran to MiJaVeh, Iran

Got up at 6, had a light breakfast of flat bread and apricot jam, accompanied by black tea. Tomas and I set out at 7, today GPS worked and took us straight to the Highway. We filled up and were on our way to the Iran / Pakistan border. Our game plan was to ride early and avoid police and army escorts for as much of the journey as possible. By 9 temperatures had risen to 40 degrees and topped out at 41.5 degrees. The desert from Bam is desolate. In parts there are powder sand dunes, what many would consider to be postcard desert. Elsewhere winds have sculpted rock into pillars, there are barren mountain ranges.  At one point a tiny kingfisher flew past me, whether he was lost or whether he knew the secrets of the desert I will never know.

We stopped at Nosratabad to fuel up. The attendant didn’t have a dispensing card and it looked like petrol might not be available. I made supplicating gestures to a local who had a card, a deal was done that allowed the local to make a little profit and we filled up. We reached Zahedan city limits without an escort. The checkpost examined our passports and sent us on. Finally we were stopped maybe 30km from MirJaVeh, a young soldier then rode pillion on the back of my bike to MirJaVeh. He tried to coerce us into going to the border, I insisted on going to the government tourist Inn (MirJaVeh Jahangardi 650,000IR) At the guesthouse we were told to go to the border…. I again made supplicating gestures and the manageress caved in and let us stay.

We are “locked” in. No escape till morning when an escort will collect us and deliver us to the border. Part of me had considered moving onto and crossing the border. I didn’t want to find myself exiting the border hours later near sunset and so MirJaVeh is our resting place.

Tomorrow Pakistan

MirJaVeh mileometer 20544 (250 miles ridden)

29th September 2013 Yazd Iran to Bam, Iran

29^th September 2013  Yazd Iran to Bam, Iran

Departed the luxury of Hotel Dad for the deserts of southern Iran. Iran’s single carriageway roads are very good. They carve their way through progressively through wilder and wilder terrain.

I arrived in Bam and guessed my way to within a mile of the guest house where I has stayed last year, Akhbar Guest House 500,000IR.  Shortly after arriving an Australian girl walked in, she had travelled through India, Nepal, Pakistan and was to end her travels in Iran. She commented that she hadn’t seen any other motorcycles during her travels…… which inevitably signalled the arrival of another motorcycle. Thomas, from Stutgart was riding a 20 year old BMW 1000 gs. I had bumped into him momentarily in Erzurum, when I had asked him if he needed any help. So three travellers chatted, drank tea and then went for meal in Dasht de Behesht (beauty of the desert). We had a lovely evening and Thomas and I agreed to travel on together to cross the Pakistan border. We agreed a plan to rise early and avoid the desert heat and hopefully the police.

Bam mileometer 2024 (318 miles ridden)