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The Flat Punjab |
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Dehra Ghazi Khan to Lahore 18th Jan 2000 Total distance covered approx 9400km day count = 125 |
I was secretly
quite concerned about Andrews illness in DG Khan, his puffy eyes and
small pupils certainly did not look good, and from the way he resolutely
refused to shift from bed I began to wonder whether something more
serious may be gripping him. In the two days previous he had taken his
frustration out on unsuspecting locals, who when playing their usual
pranks of trying to bring us to a halt in the road, or feigning throwing
stones at us had received a nasty shock when Andrew bawled at the top of
his hoarse voice.....words that should best not be repeated here! Whilst
Andrew lay resting, forcing down rehydration salts and beginning his
course of Flagyl drugs, I began a wild goose chase around Dera Ghazi
Khan. The town is a dusty, dirty, disorganised and noisy mess of a place (and I'm not really being harsh on it either). Its quite hard to imagine how constructive work gets done around here between the din of horns and shouting that distracts any attempt to put thoughts together in a sensible order, the chaos that rules the main street's traffic movements and the layer of grime and dust that coats everyone and everything from goods on display to Policemen standing on duty. I accept the challenge and go forth into the maelstrom to see if there is an Internet facility in the town - unlikely as it seems. After many questions and many negative responses I am taken in a bumpety rickshaw through dust clouds and back alleys to the Ali Computer Centre - where I encounter fantastic hospitality, and a degree of scepticism when I say that I am a tourist here in DG Khan. When interrogated on why I might come here and why on earth do I want to be in this particular part of the world I counter that the country is beautiful to us, as we have no deserts in England, and that it is an exciting and vibrant place to be - and very different to England - and that the people have shown us a warm hospitality. The very next day as we leave DG Khan the same thought resurfaces - what is it about this place that makes it so exciting? It can make you ill, the food can often be choking with spice and oil, the dust and dirt is uncomfortable, and the decibellious roaring of the chaotic motorists causes piercing pain to the eardrums. Still though both Andrew and I agree as we weave and dodge our way through the carnage of the main bus stop piled directly atop the midweek cattle market - there is certainly something special here. As we draw away from the town things settle down a little and I have the opportunity to reflect a little - and I conclude the following. It is for me the excitement of the feeling of not being able to assimilate all of what is happening around about. At any time there is too much activity and there are too many smells and sounds - and this creates a sort of sensory stimulation for us. Back at home as you move around, up and down the same street, or the same patch of the office, or the same town the brain is switched into autopilot; it knows what to expect - it has seen the scene a hundred times before and so it receives little new excitement. But here we find every person behaves in such a different (and often to us crazy) way that challenges the way that we expect events to unfold, and our brains are constantly straining to cram in all this new information and to piece it together into some kind of sense. This proves to be harder, but at least trying to understand gives us something to fill the cavity left when cycling for mile upon mile. We are by now well and truly amongst the greenery, and we are passing fields teeming with crops; fruit trees, rice, wheat, vegetables and often two crops growing at the same time (ie fruit trees and rice around the bottom). Just 30km outside DGKhan and we reach the mighty Indus River. This is the life blood for this region and has been supporting life here - so the archaeologists say since the third millenium BC. The river is enormous and even now when the flows are not at their highest it nearly fills the complete span of the bridge which is some 4 kilometres. The irrigation system is in evidence all around us and there are many signs proclaiming the dams and groynes that have been built to harness the river when it floods in the monsoon. What an achievement - to attempt to control such a huge natural system as the Indu River in flood! As we cycle through the dazzlingly bright greenery, the air echoes with the sound of irrigation pumps - with a mechanical poop, poop, poop - the sound of the exhaust fumes being forced out of a whistle on top of the chimney - a pleasant, peaceful and rhythmical change from the blare of car and bus horns. Water is everywhere and so are the people. We barely cycle a few metres without seeing a house and the road is a sea of moving people - mostly on bikes but we pass many carts - some towed by horse but others by huge hulking cows and some even by Camel - it's a fun road alright! The surface has improved and this makes the cycling somewhat easier than our journey through Baluchistan - oh - and of course its flat as a pancake! The change has certainly been dramatic - from desert to flood plain and in such a short distance. Andrew is still not perfectly OK and as we arrive in Multan he is slowing down painfully. Of course it is most uncomfortable for him, but its also painfully frustrating for me too! We pedal forwards at just maybe 15km per hour - and my backside aches - normally we could have arrived in Multan hours ago!! At least we're here now though! In Multan we stay the first night in the Silver Sands Hotel after checking out quite a few dismal places - and we decide that we definitely deserve a good place and a little luxury. The next morning we visit The Holiday Inn and we indulge in a favourite pastime - the buffet breakfast. Afterwards I decide to try my luck in 'chatting up' the hotel manager to see if we might arrange a cheap luxury treat for ourselves in Lahore - in the event he invites us to stay for just 25 pounds for bed and breakfast for 2 of us - at which we can't grumble - and we don't need asking twice - we're in! The hotel feels a little like home - a great bed, a real sit down toilet, a bath with a plug, the BBC on satellite TV, and food that we stuff ourselves silly with. We get a full recharge - ready to head for Lahore! The next day finds us fighting into a headwind and we have quite a distance ahead. It's a demoralising prospect, but in a moment of pure inspiration we start pedalling like Billy Oh - just as a lorry passes us - and we manage to squeeze into the slipstream. The small envelope of air encircles us and we are shielded from the wind up ahead and we fly along at up to 40kmhr. We skim over potholes in the road - unable to avoid them now - as we certainly can't see them coming - we pray that the lorry won't brake sharply (the brakes aren't actually all that good anyway!), and one of us takes regular peeks out around the outside to check what is going on up ahead. This is a fantastic boon to our progress and we storm ahead - covering the 340km to Lahore in just 3 days - wahey! In the interim we pause for one night stop at Mian Channu, and then the next at Okara. Strangely we are using a road marked as the M2 (my local motorway at home), but when it arrives at some towns it drops from dual carriageway to single lane and the surface from being smooth and enjoyable it reverts to dust and potholes - the result is that many of the towns along this road are choked. We have to laugh as we cycle along this road - its really very good - but there are some unbelievable sights. We figure that this would be a prime location for filming for Police Camera Action. Early one morning we see a truck that has planted sideways and we stop to inspect - soon we see that there is a cable attached to its side stretching across the road to another lorry - I just miss the most spectacular picture of the truck with 2 wheels in the air as it returns to the upright - DAMN! Anyway, back to the story about the M2 motorway - which is best described in bullet points: 1. The road is a dual carriageway. |
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