Through the Khyber Pass

Sunday 15-11-1964 to Wednesday 18-11-1964

In the waiting room in Rawalpindi we met a very hospitable Pakistani, Sub-Inspector Ashfaq Ahmed Khan, of the Pakistan Government Police, who invited us to accompany him to Thal, a town on the North-West Frontier, where his brother is Stationmaster. He offered to pay all expenses. It was out of our way, but we decided to accept, as we would see something of Pakistan, off the beaten track, and besides, it was free. So this morning we completed a very comfortable night train ride in Intermediate Class to Kohat and then had a really wonderful day, one of the best yet - new places, people and experiences. We left Kohat early for Thal by the only train of the day, a small one on a narrow gauge track, similar to that which runs up to Darjeeling. It was a superb little train, and we travelled for about ten miles of the journey on the steam engine, where we sat on seats suspended out the side of the engine driver’s compartment. It was an exhilarating ride, and thundering across the desert of the North West Frontier, hanging off the side of a locomotive, legs dangling, with the wind in my face, I felt like Lawrence of Arabia. The countryside along the way was different from any I had seen before. It was no longer like India. For the first time I was seeing barren looking plains and grey rocky mountains, although I was assured that this was the most fertile valley in Pakistan. The small stations we passed were unique. They were fortified with half inch steel plate shutters and doors, and the ticket windows were small holes in steel plate set back a foot into the wall. These fortified stations were built by the British as a defence against tribal attacks which were apparently quite frequent in colonial days. Even the houses in this area are built in a fortified manner - protective walls all round, and a main gate which is bolted at night. It was an unforgettable ride. Thal, at the end of the line, was a larger station of the same type.

Railway Station Thal, NWFP, Pakistan

We put up in the railway officials’ rest quarters, up a steep flight of steps in the corner of the building, and promptly did our washing. A great feeling to know that our clothes are clean again. We were made very welcome by the Sub-Inspector’s brother and his associates in spite of an initial feeling of awkwardness on both sides.

Our hosts at Thal, with me on the right, next to the tall Stationmaster, then his brother the Sub-Inspector

In the evening we walked around the town. Here in this part of Pakistan there is no similarity to India. The sun was setting behind stony mountains; Muslims saying their evening prayers towards Mecca; a tribal encampment on the edge of town, with a man on horseback kicking up dust as he rides through, followed by a barking dog - a really nomadic scene. Tribesmen with their local handmade rifles and belts full of ammunition wandering through the bazaars. The racial mix is quite different also: Mongols, as well as many people very pale skinned, and so Caucasian that they could be English or Australian. Despite its history, here on the North-West Frontier seems such a peaceful part of the world.

The curiosity of the local children got on our nerves a little so we were glad enough to leave the next day on the goods train back to Kohat. There, however, we found Pakistan in the middle of a bus and truck drivers’ strike, so instead of taking a bus 40 miles, direct to Peshawar from Kohat, we had to take a train by a roundabout route, which took us all night. After much bother in Peshawar (back and forth to the Khyber Gate at Jamrud Fort), over a permit for the Khyber Pass, we finally got a lift in a Volkswagen from a couple of tribesmen, who took us through the Pass to Torkham, the Pak-Afghan border post.

The Khyber Gate and Jamrud Fort

The Khyber Pass was yet another ambition fulfilled. Much shorter than I had imagined, it is still an amazing experience to pass through it. There are three tracks: rail, road (excellent) and camel (no longer in use), and at one high point you can see all three winding through the valley.

The Khyber Pass

The mountains are grey rock, and on every hill is a small fort, with occasionally the larger forts of the old Khyber Rifles. Torkham is situated in a cleft between mountains, with trees and running water. We slept the night in the passport office on the Pakistani side and had absolutely no problems at the border, which we crossed early in the morning. In fact the official on the Afghani side was still in his room, and filled out the forms for us sitting up in bed. No one bothered us with a customs check. The local Police Commandant arranged a ride for us as far as Jalalabad, which we reached about 2.30 pm on the back of a truck piled high with cans, and from there we paid 30Afs to get the last hundred miles or so to Kabul in a Landrover with six other passengers. Most of the trip from the border was across barren desert country, rocky and dusty, though we noticed an attempt at irrigation between Torkham and Jalalabad. To me this landscape is quite beautiful, because it is different from anything I am used to. I guess this is the type of country it will be right across the Middle East, and I will probably become quite sick of it, but right now it is quite exciting. About thirty miles short of Kabul we entered the Kabul Gorge, the only pass to the capital through the Koh-I-Baba mountain range, and there was a very steep zig-zag ascent and dangerous moments as we passed large trucks on the narrow road, with a deep ravine only feet away. Fortunately, as evening approached we emerged safely from the gorge and there before us was Kabul. We had no trouble locating the Maiwand Hotel, where everyone stays, and considering the cold, we were glad to find comfortable beds there, with plenty of blankets, for 30 Afs a night - about 50 cents.