Drive to Quetta from Pakistan border town Taftan through Balochistan desert.

The map below shows the road the team took over the next two days

(Daniel) I cannot emphasise how early I was up this morning, I wanted out of this place as soon as possible.  I put the remaining spare fuel into the tanks, cleaned the air filter, checked and topped up the oil on the truck and checked everything over thoroughly.  Then I walked over and sat outside the carnet office, ready to be the first person through the door when it opened.  Eventually the staff did turn up, and I pushed in the door behind them as truckers appeared from everywhere to get their own carnets and vehicle papers signed.

It was a real struggle to get seen, these once polite Iranians, suddenly turned into mad dogs, everyone thrusting their paperwork at once, and then reaching through the gap in the window and pulling their own papers to the top of the pile.  I watched a few people do this, and then copied their method for myself.  Rowan and Gabby were relying on me to get us through customs as fast as possible to get the best chance of crossing the Belugistan desert in one day, and we were already leaving three hours late! Luckily the persistence paid off and I was awarded an inspector.  We walked out to the vehicle together and he checked it over.  Unfortunately he had no idea what he was doing, and so on our return to the office, his superior had to come out again with us.  While I waited for the superior I noticed that some people didn’t require an inspection, instead they just walked into the office and opened a drawer in an unused desk.  Here they shoved big piles of money, and closed the drawer again.  I wondered if this would have been faster for us, but put the thought out of my mind.  I had decided ever before leaving that bribery and corruption are not for our trip, and that we would follow the correct path through these areas, as we are doing everything above board, why should we be subjected to bribes and bungs!?  The officer came out and inspected the vehicle, then he stamped the carnet, and we were free to go through to the border crossing again. I ran back to the truck, and we drove around to the gates.

As we crossed from Iran into Pakistan the funniest thing happened.  On the Iran side of the gate is a modern tarmac border crossing, with buildings and car parks.  As you cross the fence, it is into a huge wasteland, with dirt and potholes, mud buildings, and markets all around.  We drove through, and pulled up next to the first mud hut.  Here we were ushered through and issued with Visa stamps.  They didn’t even find my Visa, and instead gave me one on arrival.  I remember queuing for hours for that visa and was most upset that it was completely unnecessary! Next we went through to a customs office, where we were sat down and then called up one by one by a very polite man who took details from each of us.  I can see that bureaucracy here is a national pastime, and it was like a comedy sketch as he called our names and made us stand up, then sit down, then stand up again!  Next was the carnet.  The official didn’t even inspect the vehicle, he simply entered the details into a huge ledger, and then welcomed me to Pakistan.  I walked back to the car, where Rowan was sitting with some guards drinking tea.  We have drunk so much tea in Iran that I thought that I would explode, but here in Pakistan, they drink milky tea, a much nicer proposition, and I look forward to drinking this all the time!

As we drove out of the border crossing, and into Taftan, the border town, we saw some of the trucks for which this area is famous, the people decorate them like temples and must spend fortunes on them.  I would love to get at least some of the Wolf done like this, and will keep an eye out for an opportunity.  We stopped briefly to lock our valuables inside the security chests and hide our money in the secret places which are dotted around the vehicle, then headed out onto the main road through the Balochistan desert. As we drove I noticed that our top speed had now dropped to 98km/h, and that the flat spots were more frequent than before.

After a short while we came to a checkpoint.  The guards made me get out and fill in a ledger, then the asked me to take their picture.  I get a feeling that this will be a normal occurrence, and took their photo before driving on at speed to try and get to a main town before dark.  The scenery in Balochistan was amazing, beautiful desert, and amazing trucks and people.  Everyone waived as we drove through, and I found it difficult to believe that this is the place that we have been dreading for so long.  Time was wearing on, and as we reached the town of Dalbandin, we decided to look for a place to stay.

The Lonely Planet said that there was a rest house, a police compound that we could stop in and be safe, but we couldn’t find it.  As we drove around we stopped to ask at a customs inspection point, but the friendly officer waived us inside, and asked what we wanted.  “Sleep!?  This way!”  He cried when I asked for a place to stay, and he parked us in a corner of the compound.  The place was completely secure and these men were police, so we felt like this was perfect for our needs.  As we unpacked, the same guard brought his Field Commander to meet us.

This was a real character of a man, and he insisted on us taking several photos of him, first with his guard, then with us, and then with his horse!  We took the photos, and felt more than a bit guilty when he made us agree that we would try and send copies to him.  I noticed also that the Police had a crop of Marijuana growing in the compound, and wondered what the law was like in this country!  After we had unpacked the Field Commander took us for tea in the Mess, and then let us wash up before dinner.  While we washed the guard returned and showed us his quarters.  He was very proud to tell us of his two wives and seven children.  I wondered when he ever got a chance to see them, as he obviously lived here in the compound.

We returned to the Mess for dinner, a goat curry with rice and bread, which tasted great. After eating, we sat back, as the other guards returned, their AK 47s in hand, they sat down and ate in shifts, and the cooks doled out food as fast as the men could eat it, and the whole sitting was over in an hour.  We thanked our hosts, and walked back to the truck to watch a movie on my laptop and then sleep.

First impressions of Pakistan, Lovely hospitable people, lots of guns, potential for very bad roads!

Distance driven 390kms

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