I’ve always considered myself a realist and few friends, if any would call me an optimist, which is probably why I can’t help but laugh at the fact that I thought that my satellite modem connectivity would go off without a hitch. In my defense, the satellite service that is the best in Pakistan and the one that I am using, Thuraya, does not work in the United States, so there was no chance for me to test it before leaving. I intended to test it when I arrived to Islamabad but upon arrival, I found out that satellite signals are blocked in the city. So the can was kicked down the road and then, as you all know, I got food poisoning. So now, I find myself troubleshooting at the camp of Urdukas at 13,400’ in the Karakoram range and only have a few minor kinks to iron out. Luckily, I have enough service to begin sharing my journals and have decided to share a handful of them at a time. Some of it might be repetitive from my sat calls but I’d like to think that they are still worth a quick read 😉
The Long Road to Islamabad: June 20th (Day 1)
But first, let me back up and give you the rundown on how I actually made it to Pakistan. When I wrote you last, I was descending on my KLM flight from Amsterdam to Abu Dhabi and was catching a flight with Pakistan International Airlines, who carries the tag line “Nice People to Fly With”. I had booked these itineraries separately because I consider myself a savvy traveler and thought by getting creative I could minimize travel time and cost, while also getting some upgrades. I pulled it off but I’m not sure that it was worth the stress…
Clearly they don’t know I’m a Delta Diamond Medallion
After being awake for the better part of a day, I finally got about 5 hours of sleep on my Amsterdam to Abu Dhabi flight. I woke up when we touched down and was completely disoriented at a time when I needed to be sharp. I rushed out to clear customs for the UAE, grab my bags, get my bags rechecked, and make it to my gate. I had 2 hours and I thought that I was golden after checking the first two off the list in the first 15 minutes. I wandered the airport with luggage cart, searching for the PIA terminal in my delirious state. After about 30 minutes, I finally figured out that it was in terminal 1A, which is basically the basement of one of the main terminals and could only be reached by going outside and down a lower ramp.
I have no idea whats going on
When I walked into the “terminal” it was absolute chaos. The ceilings were low and there were about 200 people crammed into the tiny space. I was the only Caucasian and stuck out like a sore thumb with my bright climbing duffel bags. At this point, I had to settle on a plan of attack. Should I take the strong confident traveler approach and charge full speed ahead or do I take the sad puppy dog strategy and hope that others would find sympathy for someone who was clearly lost? I know you are laughing at the thought of me attempting the latter, it was the one that I chose in my feeble state. Almost immediately the fantastic PIA staff lead me through checking bags, gave me a discount on my weight overage ($250/$350) and took me to the front of the line in security! Despite being strict with all other passengers on carry on size and weight, they did not even give my huge backpack, weighing 40+ lbs (15 lb limit), a second look.
Just a few bags…
Finally, I boarded my final leg of my journey to Pakistan! The PIA staff had put me in row 3 because it was an empty row and he said it was because I would be more comfortable there, which I didn’t fully make sense until I boarded and had to carry my backpack to the back of the plane to find overhead space. As I walked down the aisles, I realized that the flight was 95% male and I appeared to be the only passenger that was not of Middle Eastern descent. Every head turned and stared as I passed and I laughed as I thought to myself, this must be what it’s like to be the pretty girl at the bar! About an hour into the flight, I got a tap on the shoulder and a gentleman asked me where I was from. Everyone around listened intently and when I told him America, the questions started flowing. I couldn’t answer all of them but I tried because everyone was so incredibly friendly. Several gave me their business cards, some invited me to dinner in Islamabad, and all of them wished me luck on expedition! I was finally able to relax.
Pakistan Airlines
I landed at 4:00 AM and despite being in the middle of the customs line, somehow cleared second to last because I didn’t maneuver like everyone else. My driver from the hotel grabbed me as I exited because I stuck out like a sore thumb. He drove us 45 minutes to the Hotel Serena, where diplomats and other important visitors stay, and after 15 minutes of checking the vehicle and my luggage for weapons, I was able to checkin. I got a 5 hour nap, met Geoff for lunch at the pool, had dinner with the team, and got to bed for a morning flight to Skardu…
What. A. Day.
PS – I’m guessing that many of you are probably wondering why I hardly mentioned my team. Well, you will be happy to know that it’s not because I don’t like them, they are a very strong and fun group. The reason is because there is a lot going on and I wanted to save the fun details for a boring rest day. Stay tuned!
Yay! So very happy that the modem is up and running and your stomach isn’t. While I agree with your Mom and Aunt Rita that the written transcriptions of your phone calls are comical, I so enjoy reading your journal, but every so often please leave another phone message so that we can hear your voice. Your description of flying on PIA brought back memories of my ferry trip to Macau. I think you learned the sad puppy strategy from your dad, but clearly it works. Just getting to Base Camp sounds like it is as much of an adventure as the climb will be. It almost sounds tempting, almost. I guess I will just have to enjoy it from the comfort of my sheepskin covered chair. Haha.
Keep on Keepin on John!. I have looped in coworkers yet again of your amazing Journey to K2. You are an inspiration to all of us.