Open Writing

The flight from Gilgit to Islamabad is reputed to be one of the world's dream journeys. The aircraft flies much of the time below the height of the mountain range, following the Indus Valley. I knew that uncertainty surrounded it; low cloud immediately bringing about the cancellation of flights. In addition, there are only a few seats allocated for foreigners unless they are business travellers.

It was, therefore, with some trepidation that I visited the Pakistan International Airlines office to book two seats. Much to my surprise and delight two seats for tomorrow's 8 am flight were available. What a photographic opportunity awaited us. Riding out to the small airport early the next morning we dismantled our bikes and sat down in the departure lounge to await the arrival of the flight to Islamabad. We received notice that the flight had been cancelled but the 11am flight was definitely on as the cloud had since lifted.

Around 10.30 we were informed that this flight had also been cancelled. This created something of a crisis for us. We quickly re-built our bikes and rode back into Gilgit. We managed to get the last two seats on the bus leaving for Rawalpindi. This journey proved to be purgatory.

Several hours into the journey the bus suffered a rear wheel puncture. Just before it happened I banged my head on the roof of the bus on one of the many rough sections of road, suffering a bad laceration. To make matters worse we encountered a series of thunderstorms. The bus was continually exposed to severe conditions. It came as no surprise to discover that it leaked water through the roof.

About eighty kilometres out of Rawalpindi we had a second rear wheel puncture. The absence of another suitable spare wheel brought about a slow drive on three rear wheels. I began to realise that this enforced slowdown might cost us our flight down to Karachi. Our anxiety increased after the bus was boarded by customs officers acting on a tip-off regarding illegal contraband. Three young Pakistani men were taken off the bus and quizzed for twenty minutes.

By this time I was I was on tenterhooks about our chances of reaching the airport in time. Arriving at the bus station we immediately hailed a taxi, abandoning any thought of recovering my front wheel from the hotel, urging the driver to get us to the airport as quickly as possible. We managed to catch our flight despite the trauma of the past twenty four hours.

At Karachi airport we informed Gulf Air that we were available for the 1900 hours flight to Bahrain. "Confirmation of your availability is too late; the flight is full" came the reply. "There are no seats available for the next few days".

I was told to go to the main office in Karachi, some 20 kilometres away. Leaving Gavin at the airport to guard our gear I hired a taxi for the journey. I was told to return at 16.30 hours to see if there had been any cancellations for the 0600 hours flight the next day. I arrived back at the airport to inform Gavin of the situation.

Later in the day I returned to the Karachi office. I was given ticket number 308. I looked up at the number board to see 84 flash up. At 1700 hours the doors were closed. By 1900 hours I had still not been called and began to despair of ever being interviewed. Tafrick, my taxi driver, hired for the duration of this saga, suddenly appeared with ticket number 283 given to him by someone who could not wait any longer. It was still a long way from the front but I did eventually get to see someone. I was informed that there had been two cancellations on the early morning flight. He placed us on the ' accepted' list and issued tickets. Never was I so relieved.

We invited Tafrick to have a meal with us and, as we had several hours to kill, asked him to take us on a tour of the old capital before it had been re-located to Islamabad.

Our short flight to Bahrain was uneventful. I visited the transfer desk to advise Gulf Air of our availability for the flight to London. I was given a slip of paper rather than a boarding card. I queried this but was advised that it was alright. Neither Gavin nor myself gave the matter any further thought. We joined the queue to board the aircraft, passed through the security check and presented the chit to the Gulf Air clerk. She asked for our boarding cards. There were no available seats on this flight despite the booking allegedly made by staff in Karachi.

A taxi was organised to take us to a hotel in central Bahrain and we would have seats on the 0100 hours flight the next day. As it was only 11.3 0 am we were able to jump into a bath and have our first clean-up for several days. I had half-a-dozen attempts to get my hair clean. It was only on the last shampooing session that the water began to run through my hair with any degree of cleanliness. After a very welcome lunch in the elaborate restaurant we both fell asleep on our beds and did not stir until dinner. We were placed in business class for the flight to London. I was due to be back at college at the precise time I had been sleeping in the hotel, but that's another story.