The day started with a gentle drizzle over Batakundi, a quiet town nestled in the valleys of northern Pakistan. Stepping out of our hilltop hotel, the air felt crisp and fresh, carrying the scent of wet earth and pine. I looked around in awe. The rolling mountains were shrouded in light mist, their peaks barely...
It was still dark when I opened my eyes to the soft hum of silence that only mountain mornings can hold. The clock on my phone read 5:30 a.m. — earlier than we had woken up on any other day of this tour. The valley outside our window, Phander in the Ghizer district, was wrapped...
Before the Ride — A Wake-Up Call from Life There are moments in life when a single sentence feels heavier than years of silence.That morning, the words echoed inside my head like thunder in an empty valley:“What’s wrong with you? You’re not permanent. The job you’re ready to give your life for will replace you...
The familiar greeting echoed against the misty backdrop of , Hunza, as the morning drizzle painted the cobbled streets silver. It was our last day in Hunza, the valley that never fails to charm with its terraced fields and snow-dusted peaks. We had spent the night at Roomy Dastan Hotel, one of the coziest lodges...
These words, echoed from the rooftop of Roomy Dastan Hotel, marked the beginning of another adventure. After days of exploring the valleys of Hunza and Chapursan, it was time to move on — to a place that, for me, holds an even deeper affection: the Ghizer Valley, the emerald corridor that leads to the serene...
It was early morning in Sost, the last town of Pakistan before the Chinese border. The air was crisp, the sound of flowing water echoed through the valley, and the morning sun bathed the Karakoram peaks in golden light. We had arrived the previous night around 8 PM, tired yet thrilled, knowing that the next...
It was early morning when I left Skardu. The valley still slept under a thin veil of mist, and the first light of dawn painted the distant peaks gold. Frankie stood waiting, loaded and eager, her metal body glinting in the chill of 6 a.m. I turned the key, and the familiar hum of the...
Today I want to take you to a place where every heartbeat echoes against stone and silence — the Thagas Valley, tucked deep inside Pakistan’s northern mountains. They call this narrow trail “The Death Track,” and the name alone should tell you what kind of place it is. I had heard about it for years...
The first rays of morning filtered through the curtains as we woke up at Attabad Lake, still tired from the previous day’s journey but filled with anticipation. Last night, we had stayed at Lexus Hunza, a comfortable lakeside hotel overlooking the turquoise waters that shimmered in the moonlight. Attabad Lake is not only a visual...
“That’s it… It’s completely finished. We shouldn’t have stopped here.”Those words echoed in my mind as I stood on a narrow ridge overlooking two of the grandest valleys in all of Gilgit-Baltistan—Hunza and Nagar. The sound of the engine still hummed faintly in my ears, though the motorcycle had long fallen silent. The clouds drifted...
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