Basant

Basant is a festival of kite flying in Lahore to welcome in the spring. Many people go to the rooftops of the old city and fly their kites. Sounded like a wonderful sight so Paul and I had Khalid drive us there. Unfortunatly due to unknown reasons the festival was cancelled for the 5th year. Still I expected to see some kites being flown but nothing. Very disappointing.

Instead we hooked up with Javed of Deosai tours (deosaitours@yahoo.com) for a wander through the narrow alleys of the old city. He took us all over through different bazzars starting with the famous Heera Mandi, the red light area where the dancing girls live. These dancing girls were once important people and entertained the Mughal emperors that build the Fort and the Badshshi Masjid. Over the years they have become not much better than whores even though they like to think of themselves as descended from a courtesan class. They look down on the common whores who have moved into the area from the countryside. For more about these people read 'The Dancing Girls of Lahore' by Louise Brown.

On our wanderings we took in a couple of mosques, the mosque of Wazir Khan which is said to be the most beautiful in the city and later a daylight visit to the Badshahi mosque.

Wazir Khan Mosque

While walking through the old city we saw many different ways to sell wares, here are a selection of sellers and professions.

Butcher

Dentist

Sleeping paintbrush seller

The people in the old city seem very friendly forever asking "What's your name" and "Where you from". The all want to shake hands and say how do you do.

Riding

Recently as there is not much to do around Islamabad we have been hores riding. For those of you who heard about my first attempt at this activity, this horse did understand the command 'bloody whoa'. On the edge of Islamabad there is some farmland and woods. The horse riding is in this area. One week we went down a dry river bed and then through the woods. It is really peaceful riding through the woods.


There have been a few scares here recently mainly resulting from the anti-islam film put on the internet by a Dutch MP. This resulted in the closing of the UN club here. I don't really know how this would help the situation, all it did was to piss of the ex-pats here as we couldn't get a drink for the weekend.

Wagah

About 30km from Lahore city centre is the border crossing at Wagah. This is a very special crossing place as since partition they have performed the nightly ceremony of lowering the flag and closing the gates.

These days it is done in an ampitheatre with cheering crowds on both sides. As a westerner I was escorted by the military to the front platform. At first I was not sure why I had been picked out by the military and escorted a different way from all the locals. I ended up with a grandstand view.

The parade consists of a lot of shouting, quick marching, stamping and football like cheering from the crowds. Great spectacle.

Pakistani (in Black) and Indian border guards.

The high stepping had them bringing their knees up to their chest level before crashing their boots down. The did everything quickstep. It reminded me of Monty Python's 'Ministry of Silly Walks'.

After the parade we had to leave the stands and walk round the edge of the show area. This took us past a crossing point that does not seem to be used but has not been permanently closed. It just has troops either side. There is a monument to 50 years of the Rangers which I guess are the border guards. Had my picture taken there with Amir.

Pakistan - Indian border with Indian soldier in background.

After seeing the picture I turned and thanked the Indian for posing there for us. The Pakistani soldier guarding the crossing told us in no uncertain terms not to talk to 'Him' as he was a bad person. Why? we asked. Soldier replied 'Him Indian we Pakistan, he bad person' I guess they still hate each other. We walked away laughing at the absurdness of it all.

Later that evening we went to the Sufi shrine to Baba Shah Jamal. In our ignorance we ended up in the ladies section of the temple. Nobody said anything to us but we did receive odd looks. Who is going to approach a 6'2" white guy who is wandering around as if he owns the place. We ended up leaving the womens section via the shrine in the middle of the courtyard which had an exit to the mens section. Faux pas number 2... when we left the shrine, which was absolutely beautiful with the ceiling made of mother of pearl and other semi precious stones, and the shrine itsself covered with about 6 inches of rose petals, we just turned and walked out into the male section. We thought we had got away with that but it turned out that we sould not have turned our backs on the shrine. Dumb bloody foreigners.

Later we walked around Charing Cross and up the Mall. You can tell the Brits were here for a while. At one end of the Mall is Summit Minar which commoeates the Islamic summit conference in 1974. This closes at 6pm but when we arrived at around 9pm Amir decided it would be better for us to take a picture if we just climbed the fence. So we did.

Monument with statue of Koran.

When the security guard saw we were foreigners and taking pictures he showed us the museum dedicated to the summit conference. Not only that but he opened it and showed us round. Cannot imagine that happening at a museum in Londao for a couple of foreigners who had jumped the fence.

Wednesday evening after work we went to see the gate closing ceremony at Wagah border crossing. Unfortunatley we arrived a little late as we were told it started at 17:30 but it actually started at 17:00. We still mamaged to see something as there were a load of cameramen there from news channels as some guy who had been in jail in India on a money forging charge for three years was being sent home.

After we headed back to Lahore town and checked out 'Food Street' actually called Gowal Mandi. Here at 6pm the street is closed to traffic and tables and chairs are set out for the evening meal. They sell all sorts of stuff from simple bar-B-que tofried fish to curries and stuff. We saw a guy cooking some strange dish using what looked like a pair of cold chisels.




It was a dish called Taka Tak which was made of goat innards, its brain, kidney, rib, heart and gonad added to this was some tomato, spices and butter. It meat was initially steamed then the toms and spices were added and it was cooked with the butter on a hot plate. Again I was suprised how tasty it was. This experience was just a little outside Amir's comfort zone and he declined to partake as he did not feel too comfortable to the environment it was cooked in. I reckon that if it don't kill me it just makes me stronger.

Taka Tak

Enjoying a plate of Taka Tak in Food Street

Yesterday I travelled to Lahore, not by train as initially planned but by plane due to the heightened security following the bombing of an Italian restaurant in Islamabad on Saturday.

The Luna Caprese was a nice spot near the Super Market frequented by foreigners as it sold wonderful italian food along with alcohol. Probably part of the reason for the bombing. Unfortunatly there was a fatality, a Turkish woman working for an NGO was killed, along with a few serious injuries and many walking wounded. I was luckily nowhere near the restaurant but at a St Patrick's party at the Canadian Club in the diplomatic area, which is probably one of the safest places in the country due to the very high security cordon.

Anyway Lahore is vastly different from Islamabad. It is a very old city with buildings dating back to the early 17th century. It has sites built during the Mughal, the Seikh and the British colonial periods. Last evening myself and Amir, a colleague, went around the Badshahi Mosque which is the second largest on the sub-continent and was completed in 1634.


It can hold 100,000 people in its main square and has some amazing acoustic qualities. In the main prayer rooms if you stand in the corners and whisper towards the wall you can be clearly heard in the opposite corner. In another room built into the side wall nearest to the old river you get a very odd acoustic experience. If you stand in the middle of the room, look at the ceiling and shout then look at somebody standing in front of you and talk to them you hear your words in your inner ear. Not sure if this has anything to do with the room itself or the physical tipping of the head but it is very weird. Try it yourselves in any small domed room and let me know the results.

After the tour we went to the allegedly famous Cooco's restaurant, where you can sit on the rooftop that overlooks the mosque and the Seikh temple. Very nice spot and would have been very romantic in the night with the right person, unfortunatly I was with Amir.....

The nearest plate with the brown stuff is brains masala a house speciality. It was suprisingly good.

Lahore city is like any other in the region with narrow roads, choking polution, lunatic drivers, thousands of motorcycles with up to 4 people riding them, all with death wishes. There seems to be continual chaos with horns blaring continuously and traffic going in all directions at once.

BHC advice.....

The British High Commission in Pakistan advice is NOT to travel to Rawalpindi as there is a risk of terrorist activity. Their staff is expressedly forbidden to go there.

Guess where I went last Saturday........ you are right Rawalpindi.

After the blandness of Islamabad Rawalpindi was a breath of fresh air, figuratively speaking.
It was hot, dirty, noisy, smelly, congested, overcrowded and all the things one would expect from a city on the sub-continent.


Went to the city with one of the Mobilink guys as he had to take his car to the mechanic. This turned out to be just one in a whole street of mechanic workshops. All seemed to be working together working on cars either in a small workshop or just right on the street. The jigs they used all seemed to be home made and efficient.


While they were working on his car we took a walk around the check bazar, not sure if that is spelt right but that is what it sounded like. This wasn't a crowded as Iwas expecting but then again it was middle of the afternoon and pretty hot. Some old buildings that looked as if the upper balconies were about to fall into the street.


Found some more places to get a beer. Have joined the UN club on Hill Rd and can get some strongbow cider there. Best thing is that it is within walking distance. Also just around the corner is a very good Italian restaurant that also sellw wine and corona mexican lager. Well I'll drink just about anything when pushed.

Week 4 in Islamabad.

We have been exploring the city and surrounds. Up in the Margala Hills there are a couple of restaurants that have a great view of the city. Helps if you go on a clear day as it can be very hazy and pictures do not always come out very well.



We have also been out and about around the markets looking at the shops. Really exciting...... At the Kohsar market there is a little cafe that has outside tables and a continental feel as it seems to be a frequent haunt of the diplomatic community as there are many embassies nearby. It is also a walking distance from our digs.

We have also found a few restaurants that sell alcohol and have applied to join the UN club where we spent Tuesday night in the company of a group of ex-Yugoslavs. Smiljana made contact with them and they invited her and her friends, us, along for a night of music and singing. The music was very good and the singing was fine, I just did not understand a word of the lyrics. Smiljana sang a few serb songs and I must say she has a wonderful voice.

This weekend we have managed to wangle an invite to a Feb 29th party at the Canadian club. I have also managed to be offered a possible invite to the Brit club at the British High Commission. This coming after spending the best part of an hour there the other week trying to speak to a Brit. I was trying to find out about possible trouble during the local government elections and kept being put through to one local after another. Ended up demanding to speak to a brit of any flavour as I could not get any sense out of the locals. Main problem was that it was Friday lunchtime and all the Brits finish at that time on a Friday. Wonder what we are actuall wasting our tax on with these foreign embassies as they do not seem to do much.

Succumbed to the Pakistani equivalent of Delhi Belly last week. Not nice and apart from work spent the rest of the time very close to a khazi. Thankfully cleared up by Saturday as we had discovered another 'wet' restaurant out in the sticks. After a 45 minute drive and getting lost a couple of times we arrived at what looked like a private residence. This was in fact 'Rifiyz Place'. The owner also owns the Table Talk in Kohsar market. It is her private house with half of it turned into a restaurant. We spent the first hour sitting in the garden around a bonfire chatting and drinking. Smiljana managed to get stuck to the chair, the zips on her back pockets caught in the rattan of the seat. She then had a blond moment and did it a second time in five minutes. Finally sitting on a cushion solved this problem. The food was excellent, best steak I have had in a very long time. We continued to avail ourselves of the wine and a couple of Calvados to end the meal. Finished up back in the digs drinking gin and tonic, Very pleasant, very convivial and very drunk by the time I hit the hay.

Pakistan

It's been a busy week or so. I left home last Friday afternoon to travel to Islamabad, Pakistan via Exeter and London. Had a good evening with my mate joe and his partner Andy. I have known Joe for over 40 years and we still have good times when we meet up.

Saturday morning I was off to London where I went to watch the Lions play Doncaster at the Den. Worst game of football I have seen in a long long time. Millwall were absolute shit and Donny looked like a side that wants promotion. After the match I met up with one of my sisters, Dee, at London Bridge for a meal and a few beers.

Sunday evening I was on a flight to Islamabad. Not a very full flight so there was a chance to grab a row of 3 seats for a kip during the night. Just as well really as when I arrived I was whisked off to a meeting with the customer. There was an ignorant woman beside me who had to be told 3 times to switch off her phone before take off and then again during the flight. BA staff were pissed off at her but all they did was give her a warning letter. Didn't even confiscate the phone. Don't know quite what sort of signal she thought she would get at 35,000 feet over rural Russia but hey some people NEED a mobile, poor buggers.

Had a pleasant suprise when I walked into this meeting as I was not expecting to see anybody I knew but Rodney Stewart and Paul Muchori who I worked with last year in Algeria were there. Along with Smijana, who I worked with in Egypt in 2006, that makes three of the team I know so not too much of the getting to know you phase. The four of us and Amir, an Iranian exiled in Sweeden, are staying in a guest house in Islamabad.

My room is top right.

As one of the senior people on the project I, along with Rodney, have the two suites in the guest house. It comprises of a bedroon, a bathroom, a living room and I have just discovered that I also have a large balcony above the carport. This is a vast improvement on the first place we were put in. That was grotty, a real cheap place. We were all complaining about different things, my room was pretty poor with brown water coming from the shower, so hot that it seemed like they were serving tea that way. Smiljana's room had a broken heater and she was constantly cold, although she always seems to be cold .

We have been eating well as all the restaurants we have tried so far have been excellent with very good food an huge portions. I was hoping to loose a few pounds while here but at this rate I will gain a stone or more.

Islamabad is a modern city and you will not fine another like it on the whole sub-continent. As it is a brand new city built in the late 20th century and is laid out in straight lines with wide roads there is none of the crows, noise, pollution or character of the older 19th century cities found elsewhere. Rawalpindi, 7 miles down the road has all this along with bombs and the occasional riot. Will visit there later.

This is a dry country so buying booze is pretty dificult, though not impossible, as foreigners and non muslims can get some. We have found a place at the back of the Best western hotel. It is across a muddy car park and is just a hole in the wall. You knock on the shutter which then springs open to show a little face asking what you want. "You want whisky" is the usual greeting. Went there the other day to get some gin for Amir as it was his birthday. That was the easy part as I was then on a mission to get some tonic water to go with it. Asked the driver for a supermarket. He duly to us to what they call a super market here. A large collection of shops. He could not get the idea that we wanted a large shop that sold all sorts of stuff and kept taking us to different parts of the market saying over and over "Supermarket, yes, yes, supermarket". Got a bit frustrating, eventually forund on by asking in a petrol station. Nevet thought it would be easier to get gin than it would be to get tonic water.

The only bar we have found so far is in the Marriott hotel, not especially great but it will suffice. First hotel bar I have found that shuts at 11pm. But hey ho beggars can't be choosers.

Off again.

Well the house is still not sold, the divorce is still not completed although I found out what the delay was. It turned out that on some of the documents the wife's third name was missing so the court would not accept these documents as relating to the same person, even though the case number was the same, the first two names and surname were the same, my name was the same and addresses were the same. All down to stroppy clerks. Hopefully now that has been cleared up and we have agreed how to divide the assets things should go smoothly.

As a result of the failure to sell the house I am heading back to work after a short sabbatical of 3 months. I have taken on a contract to do an audit on the Mobilink network in Islamabad in Pakistan. Not the greatest place to go but it will pay the bills for a few more months.

Happy New Year

Another xmas and new year is over and nothing much has changed. Still awaiting for the divorce, don't know what is happening on that front, will need to talk again to her solicitor.

The house sale has ground to a halt as the arsehole that made us an offer was playing silly buggers and it transpired that he had no intention of paying anything like the amount he initially offered. After discussing the survey he had carried out on the property, I jumped through a lot of hoops for him. I had the septic tank emptied, a periodic electricity safety check, the boiler serviced, the chimney swept, a sewage discharge licence confirmed, environmental services to do a report on any possible asbestos in old artex and not least a couple of quotes for some rising damp in the oldest walls (about 300 years old) and some cosmetic finishing touches on an older roof. Total cost to put right any defects, after paying out around 600 pound for all these tasks, came to around 2,000 pound.

Told him that I would drop the price by £3,000 which would more than cover the cost of the work. His response was to ask for his own builder to come and give a quote. This was when I decided that he was just jerking me around. Told him he would be wasting his time and the final reduction was £3,000. His response was to ask for a reduction of 38,000 pound which just confirmed that he was a chancer and a total time waster.

House back on the market.

Had a quiet New years eve as the local bus company stopped its services early at 21:50. left Helston before most people were out and about and decided to go to Mullion, he nearest village to me and a 35 minute walk home down a hilly country lane. Had to choose this option as Frank, the landlord of the Wheel Inn which is 200 yards from my home, decided to close at 11pm so there was no chance or seeing in the new year there. Going to Mullion was a bad decision, I should have just gone home, as I forgot how 'cliquey' villages in Cornwall are. Seems that if you were not born there then you are always looked on as a foreigner and just ignored. I have been going into the two pubs there on and off for the last 7 years and on new years eve I was totally ignored by all but one person, the ex-partner of Frank, the landlord of the Wheel Inn. Was home by 23:30 and in bed not long after.

Next year will be different, if I ever get this bloody house sold and the divorce finalised.

All the bes for the new year to one and all.