Pakistan

Pakistan.

The moment I got off the bus in the first village,
I knew this would be intense.

Crowded. Loud. Dusty. Alive.

I grabbed my backpack and tried to figure out what was next.
A local guy named David approached me and asked where I was headed.
I told him I wanted to continue to the next city –
but it was already late,
and he said it would take too long.

So we shared a room for the night.
Simple. Basic.
Clean enough.

We talked for a while.
I told him I needed a SIM card.
We tried.
But in this border region, as a foreigner – it was impossible.

The next day, I continued through the Hunza Valley
towards Gilgit –
a bigger city, a kind of transit hub.
I found a room,
met some of David’s friends,
and the next morning we said goodbye.
He went south.
I went deeper into the mountains –
towards Skardu.

That’s where I spent my birthday.

And also where I hit a wall.
It took energy to process everything.
To land in this new world.
To catch my breath.

But after a few days,
I noticed something that never changed:

Pakistani people are among the kindest I’ve met.
Genuinely warm.
Curious. Helpful.
I felt safe here –
despite the chaos and simplicity.

We drove by jeep across the world’s second-highest plateau,
just below Tibet.
A landscape I’ll never forget.

Back to the Hunza Valley –
a place I’d return to in a heartbeat.
Great weather.
Time to hike.
And eventually reaching Rakaposhi Basecamp,
staring at ancient glaciers.

I traveled with Marion, a French traveler,
and together we hitchhiked south –
through half the country.
In Pakistan, hitchhiking is easy.
People stop. Always.

At one point I lost my ring in a hotel.
She found it days later
and brought it back to me –
a beautiful coincidence.

I also reconnected with Pascal,
my old bike travel partner.
We crossed paths more than once.

And then came Peshawar –
a city where the Taliban are tolerated,
and the atmosphere is deeply conservative.
It felt… foreign.
More than any place before.

From there, I took a bus to Lahore,
and finally flew to India.
There was no other way –
the border was closed to travelers like me.

Twenty-one hours later, with a stopover in Dubai,
I landed in Delhi.

Looking back –
Pakistan asked a lot from me.
Energy. Patience. Presence.
But it also gave me a preview
of what India would demand.
And I was about to find out.

There are so many moments I haven’t even shared yet –
stories full of warmth, chaos, surprise, and quiet beauty.
Pakistan gave me a lot to remember.

Over time,
I’ll be writing some of these stories down on the blog –
to keep them alive,
and to share a glimpse of what this place was really like
through my eyes.

Pakistan was a big surprise.
The image shaped by media
and the reality I found on the ground
couldn’t have been more different.

Not for a single moment did I feel unsafe or unwelcome.
Quite the opposite.
I met incredible people – warm, curious, generous.
And I left with a deep sense of connection.

I’ve decided:
I will come back.

Pakistan gave me so much –
and for that,
I’m truly grateful.