Pakistan – Gilgit-Baltistan

My Pakistan – Gilgit-Baltistan travel summary:

Visited: October 2023

Duration of visit: 5 days (total Pakistan: 12 days)

Capital city: Islamabad

Population: 231 million (2023)

Gilgit-Baltistan travel blog reading time: 9 minutes

• Crazy and dangerous night drive on Karakoram highway.
• Amazing countryside in Northern Gilgit–Baltistan.
• Climbing to Rakaposhi base camp at 3,450 meters above sea level.
• Master the truck art in Peshawar, one of the most vibrant cities.

My Pakistan travel adventure was part of a journey that also included Afghanistan, Tajikistan and Kazakhstan in autumn of 2023.

Mid-October brought pleasant temperatures in the south, while autumn colors, cool weather, and clear skies made my journey to the north unforgettable.

In this article, I describe Pakistan – Gilgit-Baltistan travel adventure of my Pakistan journey in 2023: snow-capped peaks and glistening glaciers of Hunza Valley, climbing to Rakaposhi base camp, getting visa for Afghanistan in Peshawar, truck art workshop, the power of army.

More articles about my Pakistan travel adventure are available here:

Gilgit-Baltistan is one of the two regions administered by Pakistan as a nominally self-governing entity, which has been subject of a dispute between India and Pakistan since 1947. This unique, mountainous region has a de facto province-like status without constitutionally becoming part of Pakistan.

Completed in 1978, the legendary Karakoram Highway connected Gilgit-Baltistan with China to the north and Pakistan to the south. The travel within the region remains as challenging as it was a century ago, despite the region’s amazing places to visit.

A group of three friends in the back, me in the front passenger seat, and Sohaib behind the wheel set off for Gilgit at 10:00pm. The car had been repaired and tested, the driver was rested, and I was eager for the overnight journey. Our route followed the Hazara Motorway for 600 kilometers into the disputed region of Gilgit-Baltistan.

“We’ll arrive by 8:00am. Just relax. I know the road—I’ve driven this route all my life,” said the young philosophy graduate while checking the tire pressure at a gas station in Islamabad.

The ride turned out to be one of the scariest experiences of my life.

Sohaib was clearly a highly skilled, fearless, and experienced driver. However, once the motorway gave way to a narrow, winding two-lane road, he seemed determined to overtake every vehicle in front of us, regardless of the risk.

Sohaib crossed into the opposite lane on blind curves, passed slower vehicles with only centimeters to spare, and accelerated aggressively on open stretches.

The Hunza Valley, nestled among Pakistan’s majestic Karakoram mountains, is an enchanting paradise of awe-inspiring landscapes, crystal-clear rivers, and lush green fields. During three days at the end of the tourist season, I explored its most remarkable attractions and natural landmarks, surrounded by breathtaking mountain scenery.

Mid-October was perfect: few visitors, stunning autumn foliage in shades of orange, red, brown, and yellow. Nights were getting cold, but the sunny days were ideal for comfortable walks.

I hired a driver and headed to the Upper Hunza Valley, mainly to visit one of the easily accessible glaciers near the village of Passu.

The first stop was Attabad Lake, created on January 4, 2010, after a landslide blocked the river, destroying settlements, causing 20 deaths and 8 injuries, and cutting off the Karakoram Highway connection between the lower and upper valleys. Today, the impressive turquoise lake is home to traditional boats with two side-mounted engines that take tourists on scenic rides.

A common part of traveling through Gilgit-Baltistan is crossing rickety cable and plank bridges over mountain streams and rivers. One of the most famous is the Hussaini Hanging Bridge over Borit Lake in Upper Hunza. The long rope bridge sways in strong winds, making the crossing an unforgettable experience.

Known as one of the world’s most dangerous bridges, it looks solid from a distance, but once I stepped onto it, every movement on the planks caused noticeable swaying and instability.

Standing on the bridge above the Hunza River, surrounded by towering peaks, I overcame my fear and felt deeply connected with nature.

For the return I chose a zipline; quicker and more adrenaline-filled way of transport.

Not far from the river is Passu Glacier, easily reached by car on a paved road. After a 15-minute walk I reached a cliff viewpoint with a spectacular glacier view. Fed by surrounding mountain snow and ice, the glacier stretches about 19 kilometers but is shrinking due to global warming and may disappear within decades.

I finished the first day of my Gilgit-Baltistan travel adventure with sweet apricot cake at a restaurant in the valley. Bathed in the last sunrays, I enjoyed views of surrounding high peaks in the background – one of the highlights of my Pakistan journey.

My plan was to visit Shimshal village via one of the world’s most dangerous roads, but the only available jeep was already booked. Instead, I spent hiked to Rakaposhi Base Camp at 3,450 meters above sea level. This is how the day went:

6:00am: The driver picks me up in the hotel and takes me to the last accessible village accessible by car, Minapin.

7:00am:  I drink green tea, say goodbye to the driver, and start walking. Ali, the hotel owner, advises:

“The first section is easy. You will reach Hapakun Meadows Camping Site in 2.5 hours, where you can rest before the steep 1.5-hour climb to base camp. Good luck!”

8:30am: I progress well, passing isolated stone houses where streams erase the cart tracks. A young shepherd guides me through a dense forest, but suddenly the path disappears. I follow a steep sheep trail, gripping roots and branches on slippery terrain. Lost among rocks and mud, I am relieved to find the path again five minutes later.

9:00am: 30 minutes ahead of schedule, I reach Hapakun Meadows Camping Site, tired but rewarded with magnificent valley views. Sitting comfortably, I recharge with chai and greet Chinese visitors who spent the night there.

9:40am: I continue the steep and rewarding final section to base camp. Trees give way to snow patches, and after 45 minutes of climbing, a glacier view surrounded by Diran and Rakaposhi peaks opens before me.

I climb the last, steepest and most rewarding section. Trees are replaced by snow rags, soon united into several centimeters of snow. The path is muddy in places, but freezing nighttime temperatures keep the soil solid. After 45 minutes of steep climbing the view over a glacier, surrounded by peaks of Diran and Rakaposhi opens in front of me.

The sky is clear, with only tiny clouds covering the highest peaks. Surrounded by untouched nature and complete solitude, I sit down and absorb a moment I will remember forever.

The campsite is a 15-minute walk along the glacier’s edge, maintained by locals with a few foreign visitors nearby.

“A welcome green tea for you. For free. A gesture of our hospitality!”

I can’t believe anyone offers free service in such a remote place, where survival is difficult. This is Pakistan, where people are incredibly hospitable. Despite all the beauty, incredible places to visit, and amazing things to do, Pakistani hospitality remains the highlight.

12:30pm: I begin descending along the glacier. The melting snow makes the first section dangerous, and my worn sneakers struggle for grip. Soon, I leave the snow behind and my step is firm again.

2:30pm: I return to the Minapin village. the restaurant owner offers me dahl with chapattis and drives me by motorbike to the main road. The rest is routine.

I am tired, but proud that I am still fit, full of energy, and ready for more Gilgit-Baltistan travel adventures.

I didn’t want to return to Islamabad via the Karakoram Highway and was willing to do anything to avoid the terrifying ride. Instead, I took a bus to Skardu, spent one night there, and flew to Islamabad the next day.

Skardu was disappointing — colder than Hunza and lacking its charm. My simple hotel was freezing, dark streets made evening walks unpleasant. Even one of the town’s best restaurants failed to impress me. I didn’t find any particularly exciting things to do or fascinating places to explore.

Peshawar, a city of 2 million people in western Pakistan bordering Afghanistan, is one of the country’s most vibrant places. Sitting on the ancient Silk Road, it has been a refuge for many Afghans escaping years of war.

I arrived with three objectives: securing an Afghan visa, exploring the workshops of famous decorated trucks, and finding Afghan clothing.

All missions were accomplished. Surprisingly, Peshawar offered far more than expected and became the most memorable city of my Pakistan and Gilgit-Baltistan travel adventure.

The central markets of Peshawar offer a truly captivating experience. Tiny streets are organized according to the goods and services they provide.

Jewelry, food, textile, women clothes, spare parts and maintenance service for cars, dry-fruit vendors and money changers. The wide variety of food, from fried fish, biryani, and lassi to fresh fruits, vegetables, and sweets, was tempting.

The Sethi House Museum and Mahabat Khan Mosque are the city’s main landmarks. The museum is well maintained, while the mosque offers a quiet escape from the midday sun.

A local jewelry vendor took me to the second floor of a fire-damaged building, revealing a beautiful view of the old mosque. He invited me for lunch, but I had to decline. I experienced my second episode of diarrhea in less than two weeks and didn’t want to take any risks.

“Don’t you want to visit the workshops where the famous trucks are painted and repaired?” a souvenir vendor asked me.

“Sure, why not!” I confirmed.

I adore Pakistan’s colorful trucks, which may be the most vividly decorated in the world. I hired a rickshaw driver and set off in search of the workshops. Everywhere we stopped for directions, people greeted me warmly, asking where I was from and why I had come to Pakistan.

It was late, and most of the mechanics were already resting when we arrived at a compound on the eastern edge Peshawar. A group of young workers confirmed we were in the right place. Abdullah welcomed me with a cup of tea and showed me around.

Young mechanics, painters, electricians, and artists were repairing, welding, cleaning, and decorating dozens of trucks in a large, dusty yard.

Truck art is a popular regional tradition and has been perfected in Pakistan. The vehicles feature elaborate patterns, colorful designs, and calligraphy, either hand-painted or applied as stickers. Most Pakistani trucks also have raised roofs and extended rear sections to maximize cargo capacity.

During my Pakistan and Gilgit-Baltistan travel adventure, I spoke with many Pakistanis and repeatedly heard similar views, regardless of age, region, social status, or education level.

Many believed that the military remains the country’s most influential institution, playing a major role in politics, development, security, and foreign affairs. In their view, it often holds more power than elected politicians at national or local level.

A common example was Imran Khan, who became prime minister in 2018 after successful careers in sports and business. Supporters praised his anti-corruption efforts, focus on lower-income citizens, and independent foreign policy. Many people I spoke with believed his removal from office and subsequent imprisonment reflected a struggle between civilian leadership and powerful military interests.

Corruption was another frequently discussed topic. Many Pakistanis felt military influence affected development, government efficiency, and public confidence in the country’s future.