+ 6 - 5 | § ¶Balouch soap-opera: guns and escorts

In Ziarat, Stephan, Anita, Peter and myself relaxed for a few days. We improvised a camping spot in the garden of an empty hotel with water and electicity facilities available... all at less than a euro a day.

Thus for each of three days, we woke up and decided to stay a day longer. Lounging around, reading, cooking, and resting our legs which needed time to recuperate after the bumpy roads and paths we had cycled across since Quetta.

Ziarat is a small village, high up in the mountains of Baluchistan, and it oozes with charm. The locals are so welcoming that it is virtually impossible to walk through the centre without stopping at least once to share a pot of tea and a conversation with some. These moments are always pleasurable and often turn into eye opening experiences.

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+ 6 - 6 | § ¶Quetta to Ziarat: In which country are we anyway?

Each new street we walk down in Quetta provides the excitement of the unknown and of discovery. Walking through the city I think, What would it be like to go a bit further? What would it be like to go further than the city centre, to take that road that leads towards the outskirts of Quetta, the one where you wonder if you're going the right way or not, the one where you have to ask your way, the one that will provide the locals on their doorstep with a visit from another world, the way that slowly leaves the hustle and bustle behind, to reveal that part of Earth that has been so welcoming to Quetta.  

We're leaving tomorrow Stefan announces! Yes! I thought I was not ready to leave, but the excitement to leave the next day is too much to say no. The bicycles call. Read more...

+ 11 - 0 | § ¶Zahedan to Quetta: a dramatic change of scenery

The last leg of the journey was a hard one. Through the desert, up moutains, down again, over 4 days on the road, and i food poisoning on the way... so when we reached Zahedan at last, it was like arriving at a final destination. The plan was for the four of us and the three bikes to get a bus or a train from Zahedan, past the border and up to Quetta in Pakistan, on the other side of the infamous Baluchistan region.

Zahedan is still on the Iranian side, and proved to be the first melting-pt glimpse of what is to come! Here people were dressed differently to the rest of Iran, the faces are different : chinese faces, mongol faces, Afghan faes with the magnificient eyes, Baloutch, standard Persian....  Apart from that it is not an interesting town, and like us, most travellers use the place for a days rest before moving on.

We decided to forget the bus to make the crossing into Pakistan an exciting one,and to cycle to the border the next day. My diaarohea was over, well nearly, and we saw no danger on the way there, so why not give it a try!

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