Chengdu: Sex, Drugs and Hot Pot Beyond Langmusi, hemmed inside a narrow valley cutting south past sleepy villages, the road weaves into north Sichuan. After Songpan, the road climbs higher and higher into the western reaches of the Tibetan plateau, a spectacular drive made all the more enjoyable by the enforced no-smoking policy. In fact, one beligerent old man is booed off the coach for refusing to extinguish his cigarette. The policy holds until the last hour of the ride when stuck in traffic on Chengdu's outer ring road, the driver can contain himself no longer. It was fine wea [View Full Entry]

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Tibet is on Holiday I should slow down. I should adventure, hitch hike, camp in the countryside, wander out of town and off the maps for a while. I've merged onto the fast lane, the tourist trail, zipping along, too fast to take the off ramps. South of Dunhuang I spy the sand dunes rearing up over the city's outskirts, an ominous chain of wondrous shifting sculptures. A fence erected around their base, however, funnels would be adventurists through a ticket booth. Since the Cultural Revolution things have changed. The CCP has seen the benefits of tourism and has reconstructed histo [View Full Entry]

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Camping at Karakuli & The Zen of Rubbish Collecting "No pictures," commands a young officer in an olive green uniform and just out of diapers . "I only want to photograph the mountains, and they're on the Pakistani side anyways." "No pictures!" Welcome to the People's Republic of China. One by one passing the officers, we file into a shed to show our passports and have our bags searched. A busload of Chinese tourists returns from atop the pass, a long daytrip excursion, and tumble into the street taking photos of each other. "Oh, are Chinese tourists premitted?" I inquire o [View Full Entry]

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Welcome Back Tea Gilgit Next day I leave town on the earliest minivan to Gilgit keeping in mind a list of places still to explore before the China tourist visa expires. I meet so many tourists on return visits to Pakistan and no wonder, I could've easily spent another day in Skardu, to explore the back roads, putter about the market, or climb up Karpochu for the splendid views of the valley and to investigate the ruins of the fort. Two young men from Peshawar employed with the Agricultural Dept. in Gilgit share the bench. One is longer legged than I [View Full Entry]

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The Natco Express Shandur Pass The Daewoo bus pulls up nearly an hour late following a restless night in which the wind and rain lash the apple orchard releasing the fruit to drum on the tin roof. Leaving Mastuj, I am the fourth passenger in a coaster that seats more than twenty. My rucksack is hoisted onto the roof rack and I take a seat up front to enjoy the vistas out the windshield. On the town's edge where the road starts to climb the Laspur River I am made to register at the checkpoint. We pass a series of villages [View Full Entry]

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Dir I take a seat in the sweltering mini-van's third bench next to the window. There is not the slightest breeze in the depot. Three men from Gudjarat, a traditional community in the Punjab suffer the bench with me. Pakistanis from down country are darker and chubbier than those in the north who could easily pass for caucasians. They are four traveling together, their older friend in the next bench. They are advocates. I assume they mean lawyers. From Timargah, we climb north along the Panchkora River. The valley narrows and the slopes grow denser with pine trees. We arrive in [View Full Entry]

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Mingora/ Saidu Sharif The Sound of One Hand Shaking The third century Buddhist sites and museum's trove of Ghandaran stone capitals, busts and architectural pieces occupy a few hours in the late afternoon. A hike into the hills of Saidu Sharif next morning is complicated by a lack of posted signs and easily rectified by a young boy who sees me poking around a rocky outcrop, also the roof of his neighbour's house. "Bukhtara?" he calls to me. He leads me back down the path skirting a gully and we turn up a road to a bluff concealing the remains of [View Full Entry]

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The Chinqi Driver's Taxila tour with a bang The Daewoo departs Fezopur Rd at half past two in the afternoon. I'm seated in the very back on a raised bench with no thought to leg room, a last minute booking on a full coach. A half hour north of Lahore, a movie starts. My ear phones work this trip but the small screen is blocked by the overhead compartments just out of view. A boy two seats to my left, still a teenager, asks me the usual questions, then he ventures a series of questions about girls and sex. I gather [View Full Entry]

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SORRY, UNABLE TO UPLOAD PHOTOS AT THIS TIME The alarm screams at six o'clock. I have spent most of the night on the toilet. I pack my bag and fetch a hydration solution. Gabby, my friend's driver pulls up in the BMW. I am lifted to Pir Wadhai, a bus depot located in a slum midway between Pindi and Islamabad. Young children wake from mudbrick homes to a hazy morning sky. I find my seat at the front of the coach and close my eyes. The curtain is closed and I recline. I sip soda and from time to time peer [View Full Entry]

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Aboard the red eye from Kansai to Bangkok passengers are served onigiri, rice balls and an omelette at breakfast eaten with chopsticks if you so choose. The midday flight to Islamabad serves curry. The young man was upset with the attendant. He had failed to order a 'special meal'. His meat must be hilal, prepared by a muslim. Most passengers on the flight are Muslim but don't seem in such a quandry. My neighbor in the aisle seat is from PeSHAwar. He studies accounting in Guandong. How many muslim chefs are there in Guandong? I'm in the toilet when the plane [View Full Entry]

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