Karakorum Dreaming. I woke today remembering my travels through the... (Wadi Jhanam)
Karakorum Dreaming. I woke today remembering my travels through the Karakorum Mountains back in 1989. Following the landslide prone highway built with Chinese help, I spent a month weaving my way through what was then the North West Frontier Province and Gilgit, to the border marker up on the Khunjerab Pass, where at 4,600 metres, I briefly entered China illegally (I’d been unable to get a visa to make the crossing). Northern Pakistan was everything I had ever dreamed of; massive, jagged peaks and bleak, occasionally Mordor-esque landscapes, warm, welcoming people, a rich culture that freely mixed pagan and Islamic beliefs and incredible food. As I made my way north, I made side-trips to the Swat Valley to see the remains of Gandhara, a Buddhist kingdom founded by Macedonian soldiers from Alexander the Great’s army, to the Shandur Pass to watch the world’s highest Polo match and to magical Baltistan, geographically a piece of the Tibetan Plateau, which is home to some of the world’s highest mountains and old Buddhist forts. I climbed up to the Fairy Meadow above Gilgit on a day so cloudless that I was able to see the pinnacle where a local prince was imprisoned by his vengeful fairy lover, experienced the icy joy of bathing in the rivulets of snowmelt that run down through the village of Khaplu and dreamed of following the old Salt Trails over the passes and into Tibet. Rarely has a place so haunted my dreams and while I’ve thought about going back ever since, so far it hasn’t happened. What has this to do with Lebanon? In many ways the mountains here feel similar, culturally and historically rather than visually, although trek through Wadi Jhanem, the Valley of Hell, up in Dinniyeh and though you’re 2000 metres lower, it feels sometimes like K2 is just around the corner.
by wsinghbartlett / Instagram