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Monday, December 30th - Rawalpindi to Lahore -
Frank is up and rubbing his hands together, both out of glee and to warm them up. His cheery, youthful smile shows that life shines for him, and it shines in his eyes. Every new day is an adventure for him, and his attitude is infectious. I am grateful for it because it isn't easy to get up. It is quite cold in the room at 6:45am. We shower, dress and pack as the light is filling the morning sky. We eat a quick breakfast of fruit and power bars before leaving for the train station.
The station platform is still in shadow. The sky is bright and hazy, but it will be sunny soon. It is a few degrees below zero, so we are anxious to get into the train. Once inside though, it isn't any warmer. All the windows have been broken. The jagged remnants of the windows are still in the frames, although the seats and floor have been cleared of shards. By the shapes of the holes and breakage lines, it appears that they have been broken by rocks thrown at them. I remember how the children would throw rocks at us as we cycled into each town in Baluchistan, so I suppose it is a favourite pastime here too. There is no way of telling how long the windows have been broken. What is the point of replacing them when funds are limited and they will just be broken again?
Once the train is moving, the wind starts the whistle around inside the car. As it gains speed it becomes a blast freezer. Frank and I throw on all our extra clothes. That part I we can manage. What concerns me more is the possibility of a rock coming flying in through the window and possibly hit what glass remains. We move to a seat that is not immediately beside a window and wish for the best.
It will take five hours to get to Lahore. This is an excellent chance for me to get to know Frank better. He's only 22, but I find out he has cycled through more countries than I have, even counting the 23 countries I have passed through this year. When he was 18, he and Eric cycled across mid-Africa starting from Nairobi, Kenya. At one point near the Somali border, troops of a local warlord showed up at their campsite ready to kill them for their goods. Frank had done his research and knew what tribe they belonged to. They were a bit surprised when he knew so much about them. When they told him they wanted to take all their goods, Frank said. "Oh no, you are (whatever) and you are honourable people. You would never do that." This worked. They retreated in confusion and embarrassment. Frank and Eric packed up right away and got out of there.
At another place in western Kenya, Eric wanted to go out to take a piss in the night but he heard footsteps. "If there are people around they are just Massai who are peaceful herders," Frank told him, so Eric goes out. A few seconds he dove back into the tent and the ground began to shake with heavy footsteps that charge up to the tent and stop just outside the door. Eric signalled Frank to be quiet. After a few minutes of silence he explained that there was a herd of water buffalo around the tent.
Their biggest problem in Africa though, was actually a tree that was dropping long thorns. Frank had 25 flat tires in one day, even when he was walking and pushing his bike beside him. He says his parents thought it would be character building to do this trip when he and Eric suggested it, but he knows they would have said yes if they had any idea what was in store for them.
German youths often grow up with one best friend and they spend each summer together. It's like an institutionalized form of male bonding, a gay teen's wildest dream come true if his buddy falls in love with him. Frank's perennial buddy is Eric, and Frank says that has been quite a challenge for Eric. Frank likes mountaineering. A year and a half ago he and Eric climbed all 31 peaks in the Alps over 4000 metres high in one summer, including the Matterhorn, the Eiger and Mt Blanc. Frank also likes white water canoeing, skiing, motorcycling and scuba diving under the ice of alpine lakes in winter. Eric would prefer not to do any of these activities. His one preference is cycle touring, so they chose this trip so both of them would enjoy it. Frank has never traveled with anyone else but Eric.
So I am dealing with a super jock. It feels a bit intimidating, but Frank has made it very clear from the start that he will stick with me. In spite of my meatless bones, I have become quite a jock myself over the past year so I jokingly make the promise to stay with him too.
The train rolls into Lahore and we reclaim our bikes from the baggage car. There are hotel agents at the train station promoting their local hotels. We follow one of them back to his hotel. It is cheap and has a place for our bikes so we take a room with two beds for the night. Frank wants us to stay only one night and cycle into India tomorrow so we can share a drink on New Year's Eve. Sharia Law is in effect in Pakistan and it is impossible to get a drink.
We have arrived shortly after noon and we still have a few hours of light so we set off to see the two most important attractions in Lahore, the Red Fort built by the Moguls and the ancient market district. The Red Fort is impressively expansive and stylish. There are a few tourists around but certainly not bus loads of them like in most of Europe. Frank has his camera out so I might get more pictures of myself for a change, once he sends me copies.
An hour at the Fort is enough to satisfy us. Then we head for the market district. It is set in a maze of tight, narrow streets with overhanging awnings and balconies in such a way that half the time it feels like I am indoors. It is quite overwhelming - the noises, smells, the intense clutter of visual images and items for sale. The proprietors call out and try to pull me in. Motorcycles, bicycles and 3-wheeled motorized rickshaws try to inch their way through the packed crowds. The streets twist around and intersect with each other, many reaching dead ends. A couple blocks into it, I start to feel that I am sinking into quicksand that I might never find my way out of, like a rambling house of mirrors. I retreat to the open expanse in front of the Red Fort and wait for Frank. He isn't far behind me.
We have a good laugh once we are free of the maze, and we walk back to our hotel. In the evening we find a restaurant where share curry dishes and toast each other with chai. Tomorrow will be my last day in Pakistan and my first day in India. Hopefully there will be no complications at the border. I will pack my dirty laundry, skid marks and all, on top of my bags just in case.
PHOTO 1: the train platform in Rawalpindi
PHOTO 2: me in the courtyard of the Red Fort, Lahore
PHOTO 3: front of the Red Fort
PHOTO 4: screen at the Red Fort
PHOTO 5: entrance to the old market district
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