Sunday 16th May
We had a lovely long lie in and breakfast in bed – cornflakes, boiled eggs, parathas and cheese! Afterwards we walked down the main bazaaar, full of shacky little shops selling tea, cigarettes, rice, flour, and birth control pills – made in Japan. We found PIA, and discovered Prince Burhan-u-Din [Peter’s contact] to be in Peshawar – but the man there was very helpful and rang up the DC to see if he was in – and he was – so we went up there later and got our permission very easily, but not too quickly (‘as it’s a Sunday there are no paeons’!). Back at our superb hotel I had a long chat with two polo players, while J found a jeep going to Ayun. The hotel said to pay when we returned as the bill boy was out – so trusting, but it must be because of Peter.
We went to Ayun in the back of a jeep (very dusty) after receiving a visit from two Swiss guys we had met! In Ayun we put up at the Government Rest House, run by a darling old man who presented us with delicious scented pink roses – and also delicious dal and chapattis and chai. In the afternoon (still very stiff) we walked down to the village, paid toll tax and drank tea with the old man who took it [the tax], and also visited the police post, full of friendly policeman and ordinary people, one even spoke English.
We discovered from all these that the bridges are down and to get to Rumbur you have to go to Bumburet, a three hour walk from Ayun. At the rest house we met some Americans, a woman teacher and pupils from Lahore, who’d been in Bumburet for the spring festival and had met Peter there, and heard from him of us. They had also been to Balanguru, said the way was bad in one place. When the other half turned up in a jeep, they all left for Chitral.
Our prospective guide, our old man and a younger man, visited us while we had supper. Very good potatoes and rice. We sorted out our stuff into two green bags and decided to leave the two big bags and those things behind as porters sounded a problem. The bathroom of the resthouse even had running water – that was channelled in an open drain through our bathroom!
Monday the 17th
We woke up 5 and the old man, Mir Badja, brought us boiled eggs, tea and bread. Tirich Mir looked fabulous in the early morning sunlight, looming straight in front of us. Our guides arrived just after 6 and we walked to the upper half of the village, which we never knew existed, where the guide loaded up a tiny, charming donkey – even put our sleeping stuff on it. Then off we went, at a fair pace up, up, up on winding hairpin roads.
We sometimes could take shortcuts straight up, while the donkey had to follow the road, much faster but exhausting. We met two Americans near the top who gave us words of encouragement.
The view was spectacular – chessboard fields of green and yellow, rivers, gorges, white mountain peaks – at the top we could see both Bumburet and Rumbur valleys, even Batet in the latter. There were pine trees and wild laburnum, plus wild rosemary and thyme – what a pungent scent.
Our guide had lovely sweeties that he gave to me. I gave him orange juice – the thing that really kept us going, tho’ not half as strenuous as Lowari. We went down, mainly on a footpath, shortening the route. We crossed the river on a sort of bridge (but the donkey had to paddle the last bit) and soon after we saw our first Kalash, a little girl in complete regalia – cowrie headdress, plaited hair and black dress. Soon we saw many more, all friendly, waved and smiled. Our guide was delivering his goods to various houses (this in Bron) and we were beginning to despair of finding somewhere to stay. We didn’t want to go further up the valley as we would have to retrace our steps to the valley junction to go up to Rumbur.
However, our guide led us up a steep hill to a Kalash house, where a man opened two doors and hey presto! two beds in a little room. We bid our guide farewell, paid him Rs.25 and then our host brought us chai, dal so hot we almost couldn’t eat it, and chapatis. We rested on our beds until, hearing noises of talking, we went out and discovered an Austrian guy who might come with us tomorrow.
Later we went down into the village, brought some lemon creams and washed in the river. Saw a Kalash girl washing and platting her hair. Back at Bumbur Khan‘s house we sat in front and were soon surrounded by curious Kalash women – one even taught me my first words of Kalash. Others drew pictures in the back of this book.
The women are fantastic, so proud with their cowrie headresses – they even walk with a slight swagger, but charming to talk to and very friendly. In the evening we ate with Bumbur Khan, his two wives, children and the Austrian, in their room full of smoke from the central fireplace. Meal again far too spicy – but the water and tea helps quell the flames!
Vicky's Big Adventure 