Along the highway to Tharkot, we crossed this Friendship Bridge. The Chinese received very much likings from the Pakistanese. This firm relationship probably dates back to the planning of this highway.
In some areas, cable cars are used to bridge people instead. This is the operation cabin at one end while the other is merely an anchor. A man sits (sometimes sleeps) here, but I wonder what’s his working hours …
The cable car looks quite stable to carry both people as well as goods. What a ride it seemed. We’ll maybe think about the safety, yet to the local, it’s a living.
Gosh … I’m hungry, tired, dirty and lost in the crowd.
Ah … once again, we are saved. Tufail Mohammad is a teacher & speaks perfect English.
He introduced to us his country favourite sport, criket. Sounded like a very long and slow game.
“What! This is the hometown of our ex-prime minister?”, we were surprised that the town Battagram may have such a close relationship with Malaysia.
Another proper cultivated terrace. Today we will be climbing this small hill.
Up & about, rounds & bends, as we paced up the Battrasi hills. This forest is like a natural reserve, with tranquil atmosphere & quiet roads.
And we found a police post at the top. Thankfully the man in black have decided to take us in for the night. Officer Abrar Shah serving us hot tea & sharing their dinner.
This region is a little sensitive, explained Mushtaq, the poice commando, as it borders the capital of the Pakistan controlled Kashmir, Muzafarabad.
I can’t recall his exact words, but Shazaman immediately recognized us as Malaysian when we approached his teashop. With that chance meeting, came kopi & cakes *slurps*
At the same time, SK found that his front rack has broken apart. Fortunately, Shazaman’s friend own a metal workshop. Ready in a minute!
Mr Shazaman had went to Penang & Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, for some months during 1994 as an Islamic preacher. After 10 years, he still manages Malay language fairly well. Eagerly, he recounted those days while making chapati for his customers.
“No NOC? Sorry then, no entry.” We were merely 15km from Muzafarabad. Now got to backtrack over the hills …. sigh …