My journal notes that Karachi Airport was very modern and right up to date and that I waited for my flight to Islmabad in the domestic departures satellite. I was impressed by how, once inside the airport, everything was efficient as contrasted with the chaotic life on the streets.
Since it was Milad un Nabi the TV was screening non-stop Qawwali music. The journal does say however that the devotional songs were all unaccompanied, voice only!
I had come out to the Airport in the Avari Towers minibus with an American couple who were both journalists living in Islamabad and writing for the international press. I explained the purpose of my own visit to them and they told me they had a great deal of liking for the Pakistani people and their hospitality.
There were regular flight calls in Urdu and English with the quality of information being given being excellent. I had booked this leg of my journey with Air Shaheen, one of the few newly-privatised airlines then being allowed to open up competition on domestic routes within Pakistan. The aircraft was an aging Boing 737 which has once belonged to Thai International but the actual flight was once of the nicest and smoothest I have ever had anywhere!
I recall looking out of the window at the vast expanse of the Panjab rivers as we neared our destination. The flight lasted one and a half hours and landed right on time - impressed indeed.
This next stage of the journey was to be the most interesting and challenging of the entire trip. I had received a very kind offer back in Bradford to be 'looked after' by people belonging to Pir Mahroof's sufi spiritual group and they were there at the airport to meet me. It was excellent now that I was no longer on my own.
Two men and a boy came to fetch me. The boy's names was Mobashir. He was 14 years old and from Scotland so he spoke English with a Scots accent. This was the first time I had ever heard and Asian youth speak with anything other than a Bradford, Yorkshire accent! We have come to Rawalpindi and I had booked into a small hotel called The Blue Sky. This was where the 'cheaper' part of my trip kicked in. The Blue Sky was no Avari Towers! It had a large Blue, neon sign.
We had room service menu costing quite a hefty RS 325 my journal tells me. We all went out afterwards. I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable since Mobashir kept saying helpful things such as,'Those guys are giving you dirty looks!' He told me that everyone carries knives and guns for their own protection - what kind of place was I coming to?
I had been reading such horrific accounts in the Karachi press about factional, sectarian robberies and murders so that I became afraid for my own safety. The guys were to actually stay with me 'to make sure nothing happens' so the lot of us kipped down in the one hotel room. I was beginning to really worry about what I was getting into. I had come to a place of macho, vendetta-ridden men, so how exactly did Islam fit into all of this?
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