16-01-2008

The road from Quetta to Islamabad is about 1500 km long, in quality goes from surprising bad to surprising good.Quetta is at a plateau 1000 m high, but only driving 70 km downhill it comes down to flatland and the temperature goes up.

The road itself over long distances have 4 lanes.

The traffic is loaded with slow lorries, and when a lorry brake it stops on the spot mark the place with a lot of stones around it, and the occupants sit down in front and behind waiting for a miracle. Several times you see a turned over lorry. The road is also used by tractors, animal drawn carriages and bicycles. At the roadside you also see many modern service stations.Dieseloil is sold at a price of a little more than half e dollar a liter.

And the flatland is really flat with rivers, and you notice a beautiful agriculture land with rice, sugarcane, mango plantations, all green and this in January month.

The trip took 4 daies.

On the first day we took of at 7.30 the Brucotu( so we baptized him) came half an hour late, in snow, but soon the sun appeared.

The passage downhill through canyons is very beautiful.

We stopped at the roadside and made our lunch, but offering a plate of food to the

Brocutu he would not eat, and this was the first of the many surprises from his side. The only good thing with him was that he did not smoke, and worst was that the only English word he new was go, and that he used too often.

At the police control points he did the talking .But at one point something went wrong, the police resolved to escort us with a van running in front of us, a van with two armed men sitting in the back. And this on a bad asphalt.road

And now started a hell, the van a Toyota changed several times, trying to speak English with them they spoke a lot I did not understand and begging to stop up for the night I got a no and orders brutal to go.

At midnight I just stopped and said I could not drive one kilometer more.

Well at one o clock in the morning we ended in a police station s yard, where we finally could get some hours sleep.

In the morning the officer who spoke English told me that it all was for our security , and I could answerer that to drive by night in a traffic like this with the high lights in my eyes was more dangerous than anything ells.

To get started again took a good deal of the morning. To get the BB turned in the yard was a difficult job and several onlookers turned up at the street in front of the police station.

Back at the road the whole story from yesterday went on and on again. Armed men in a Toyota staring in my face some times driving very slowly, which made our Brocutu mad as hell; he wanted to go home as fast as possible

I had to beg for a brake at lunchtime, and we had our lunch in the BB with several policemen around us and around them a lot of specters.

And the night came and it seemed that this time we could stop at an ordinary service station , but no everything settled the owner of the place could tell that the security department had order us to an other place only 30 km from there, it was such a calm place he said.

And the night from yesterday went on an other time. Well the yard was a little bigger, and the start in the morning a little easier.

The tour was a 300km to Lahore where I hoped to find a stop for the night.

Really something changed:

From Lahore started a motor way fantastic a three lane straight road and suddenly no police van in front of us, and I drew into the first service station hoping for some sort of a hotel for the Brocutu, but there was non,.We offered him a place in the front of the BB, but he would not, preferred to sit in a chair near the BB.

To do his sufferings less, we slept only some hours, and took off early at 4 o clock.

I think that the motorway was among the best I ever traveled on, first very straight and then up into the mountains not too steep and very little traffic.

We arrived at one o clock, and here started a new trouble: the Brocutu had not got the proper address and had never been here before. An other hell started running after some cars who promised to help but without luck. It was late when we could lay down that day, but we where in the dry port, so they called the final place

Next day went smooth, We got a final place to park for the time it would take to get the visa for India, the Brocutu got his money and I embraced him telling him in Portuguese how much I disliked him.

And now to the next capital : to get our visas to India.

Text to 10 photos

No 1 In the canyon

No 2 Here they travel on the second floor.

No 3 The Brocutu with a policeman

No 4 The harvest of sugarcane is going on

No 5At second police station s yard

No 6 The lorry trafik.

No 7One of the many Toyotas in front of us

No 8 See how many passengers can go on a van.

No 9 An accident, he wanted to cross from the other lane

No 10 An other accident