I have just finished very much enjoyed "The Untold Story of Christine Bott" bt Catherine Hayes
ISBN 9781838338824 - it's not available on Amazon at the moment but maybe through a bookshop.
On IPlayer I enjoyed the two series "Waiting for the Out" and "Small Prophets"
A slight problem with quality at start but stick with it.
RIP Winston Matthews
Taken from "All About My Hat, The Hippy Trail 1972"
It was 180 miles from Kabul to Peshawar, across the Khyber Pass.
Keith read quietly from his guide book:
“Peshawar is the capital of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, formerly known as the North-West Frontier Province, and the administrative centre and economic hub for the Federally Administered Tribal Areas of Pakistan.
"Peshawar is situated in a large valley near the eastern end of the Khyber Pass, close to the Pakistan-Afghan border. Known as "City on the Frontier", Peshawar's strategic location on the crossroads of Central Asia and South Asia has made it one of the most culturally vibrant and lively cities in the greater region. Peshawar is irrigated by various canals of the Kabul River, Kunhar River and by its right tributary, the Bara River.
“Being among the most ancient cities of the region between Central, South and West Asia, Peshawar has for centuries been a centre of trade between Afghanistan, South Asia, Central Asia and the Middle East. As an ancient centre of learning, the second century BC. Bakhshali Manuscript used in the Bakhshali approximation was found nearby.
“In 1947, Peshawar became part of the newly created Pakistan after politicians from the Frontier approved the merger.
“Over 99% of Peshawar's population is Muslim, mostly Sunnis, with Twelver Shias the significant minority group. Despite the mainly Islamic nature of modern Peshawar, the city was previously home to a diverse range of communities, such as Hindus, Sikhs, Jews, Zoroastrians and members of the Bahá'í Faith. A significant number of Sikhs, in addition to smaller communities of Hindus and Christians, continue to exist in Peshawar”
“That is very interesting, I did not know that history”, said a voice with a German accent belonging to a man that sat opposite us.
“My name is Hellmut. You want smoke some joint?”
He had lit and was offering them a joint – on the bus!
Well, I could tell Al liked the smell so he quickly accepted it with a “Danke” (thank you in German, Al thought). He took three rapid puffs and passed it to Keith who took three puffs and passed what was left back to Hellmut.
Al was feeling quite self-conscious about smoking on a bus heading to Pakistan. He thought everyone was looking.
He turned round to look back down the bus.
Almost every seat had a man leaning out and looking back up the bus at him!
And, Al noticed, they were all grinning and smiling and nodding, as if to say “You are stoned now, as we are stoned too."
Al thought those men probably did not smoke cannabis but it must have been in their blood, handed down over the centuries.
He relaxed, chatted with Helmut a while. Helmut said he travelled that route every year for ten years. Then as the calming effect of the lovely hash took over, he sat and started to enjoy what was to be an incredible journey through the Khyber Pass.
The over-laden coach trundled on, struggling up hills and rounding bends with sheer drops, then down and up again. At the end of most down bits there was a small waterfall. At the end of each up bits there was a beautiful view, often including the same road below them, winding around the boulders in between the fields.
At some places there were what looked like caves in the sides of the hills.
We passed small groups of men that seemed to be just sitting and looking; we saw young boys driving herds of sheep or goats or camels and several times we had to stop to let them pass us.
Occasionally we saw groups of women carrying baskets, bundles or clay pots on their heads, trailed by urchin-looking children – her children always waving at the coach.
The women here were dressed very differently and, Al thought, more practically than those in Burkas. These showed their faces beneath head-scarves decorated with beads and chains and quite colourful too. These must be tribal mountain women, Al thought.
The coach was moving quite slowly and Al had a chance to take a couple of photographs through the window, of the valley below. He wished he had more film, but thought he would not be able to afford it.
Hellmut was quite jolly company and did lot of talking. They smoked another couple of joints.
He explained that he travelled this same route for years and the border post guards knew him. He always gave them a little money and they left him alone. He also said that every year he visited Afghanistan and Pakistan, India and Nepal, and arranged for shipments of hash to be sent back to London where his partner lived. He travelled for six months, then went back to London and his partner did the same. They were paying off customs everywhere, including the UK, and they were making a lot of money. But, he said, he preferred to stay in cheap hotels, not the big ones, and then he met people.
So Hellmut too, was heading for the Hotel Rainbow.
“Very very cheap”, he said, “But it is OK for a few days, but do not eat their food – it is better to go out to eat in a secret local restaurant that I know, it is good and clean.”
Hellmut said that after Peshawar, he was heading to Lahore and then would fly to Amritsar where the “Golden Temple” was and where travellers could sleep and eat for free, courtesy of the Sikhs. The same plan as Al and Keith's, they used to call it the “Hippy Trail.”
“Hey listen to this about the Khyber Pass man,” said Keith, who read again from his travel guide:
“The Khyber Pass is a mountain pass connecting Afghanistan and Pakistan, and India cutting through the north-eastern part of the Spin Ghar mountains. An integral part of the ancient Silk Road, it is one of the oldest known passes in the world. Throughout history it has been an important trade route between Central Asia and South Asia and a strategic military location. The summit of the pass is about 3 miles inside Pakistan at Landi Kotal, about three thousand five hundred feet.
“The pass itself is entirely in Pakistan. The nearest major cities on the route that goes over the pass are Jalalabad in Afghanistan and Peshawar in Pakistan, with Torkham as border crossing point.
“For strategic reasons, after the First World War the British built a heavily engineered railway through the Pass. The Khyber Pass Railway from Jamrud, near Peshawar, to the Afghan border near Landi Kotal was opened in 1925.
“At the Pakistani frontier post, travellers are advised not to wander away from the road, as the location is a barely controlled Federally Administered Tribal Area.
“Crossing the Khyber has always been something of an adventure. Even in peacetime, this was a fairly wild region where banditry and tribal warfare were part of local history and almost every adult male went armed. “
It was quite a journey until they reached Peshawar, but once there, with Helmut leading the way, they soon found and booked into the Rainbow Hotel. Reception gladly changed Afghani money into Pakistani Rupees.
The room for Al and Keith was small with two beds, but the view out of the window into the street below was good.
It was May 5 1972.
View from Rainbow Hotel, Peshawar
very disappointed with what the Norwich restaurant served up as I usually rate it highly, but this time ... the chillie mushrooms were mostly breadcrumbs with a sad pot of weak sauce. The spicey hake, one of my favourite dishes, was spoilt by hardly cooked green beans, sweetcorn and cabbage. what a shame.
