Motorcycle Travel in Pakistan: Sehwan to Bahawalpur Ride

It was still early when I opened my eyes in Sehwan, Pakistan, the small town known for its shrines and mystic energy. The clock showed 6:15 in the morning, and the town lay in that brief, magical pause between night and day. The streets were hushed, carrying only the faintest sounds of life—an occasional crow calling from a rooftop, the muffled shuffle of someone sweeping dust outside their doorway, and the soft clanging of a shutter being pulled up as the first shopkeepers prepared to open.

Frankie, my motorcycle, waited faithfully outside. I could almost hear her metallic patience, ready to roar into another day of motorcycle travel in Pakistan. My body felt heavy from the restless night before. Even the nights here were hot; the air clung to my skin like damp cloth, never letting me forget the furnace waiting just beyond sunrise.

I looked across the street at the small stall I had noticed the day before. I remembered seeing eggs stacked in a basket there, and I thought I could manage a quick breakfast before setting off on this Sindh to Punjab travel leg of my journey. Food, however, turned out to be a disappointment. The eggs looked pale and lifeless, not exactly the kind of fuel you want to trust before a long ride. The man at the stall explained, half-awake himself, that the tandoor oven was still heating up. If I waited, it would take another twenty minutes before the parathas were ready. Twenty minutes in this climate is a serious decision. I knew if I lingered, I’d lose my small advantage—the slightly cooler hours of morning.

So I shook my head politely, thanked him, and decided to ride on with an empty stomach. It wasn’t ideal, but the road demanded sacrifice. I could always find something later once the day had fully begun. For now, escaping the clutches of Sehwan before the heat tightened its grip felt like the wiser move.

Slipping Out of Sehwan Travel Town in Sindh

The town was still waking up as I kicked Frankie into gear and rolled through the narrow lanes. It felt like slipping through a dream. Stalls were being assembled, baskets of vegetables unloaded, and crates of live chickens squawked in protest as they were carried into the market. A donkey cart creaked past, piled high with straw, the driver barely awake and swaying like the animal itself.

The quietness of Sehwan was deceptive. I knew the sun would soon claim the streets with its blinding authority. But in those moments, the air was cooler, the roads emptier, and the departure smoother than I could have hoped. By the time I reached the outskirts, the town was behind me, shrinking in my mirrors as Frankie’s engine began to hum into its rhythm.

My destination for the day was Sukkur—234 kilometers away. Not a huge distance by normal standards, but in 44°C heat, it might as well have been an odyssey. I told myself I could make it before noon, but part of me knew the heat would arrive long before I reached the city. This was the reality of riding in extreme heat in Pakistan—the kind of travel you don’t see on glossy postcards, but one that teaches you endurance.

Hunger on the Highway: Pakistan Road Trip Breakfast Experience

The first hour was gentle, almost meditative. The road stretched out like a ribbon, flanked by dusty fields where farmers were already at work. Women in bright dupattas bent over rows of crops, their colors striking against the barren earth. A few goats wandered lazily across the road, forcing me to slow down. Trucks rumbled in the opposite direction, decorated in dazzling patterns of red, blue, and gold, their cabins jingling with metal chains and bells that clinked like wind chimes. These masterpieces of Pakistani truck art were moving galleries, colorful and intimidating all at once.

But hunger soon caught up with me. My stomach growled in protest, reminding me of the skipped eggs and parathas in Sehwan. By 9:15 a.m., after more than two hours of steady motorbike journey, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I spotted a small roadside restaurant—a dhaba—its sign faded, but its promise of food too tempting to pass.

I parked Frankie under the shade of a neem tree and stepped inside. The smell hit me immediately: onions sizzling in oil, tea brewing in large kettles, and the earthy scent of fresh chapati dough being slapped into shape. My order was simple—an omelette, chapati, and a steaming cup of chai.

Sitting there, wiping sweat from my brow, I felt grateful for this simple meal. It was a reminder of a valuable lesson every Pakistan road trip teaches you: never underestimate the importance of fuel—for the bike, yes, but also for the rider.

The Heatwave Tightens Its Grip – Riding in Extreme Heat Pakistan

By the time I left the dhaba, the day had changed. The once gentle warmth had sharpened into a punishing heat. The sun burned fiercely overhead, turning the asphalt into a shimmering mirage. At 10:00 a.m., the thermometer on my bike already showed over 38°C. By noon, it would surpass 44°C.

I had considered taking a detour to visit a centuries-old fortress along a smaller road. But standing on the edge of that junction now, the decision was clear. The fortress could wait for another traveler. The detour meant busier, narrower roads, and extra hours in the sun. My body armor already felt like a furnace strapped around me, and my skin prickled with heat. I pressed forward along the main highway, leaving the fortress behind.

Travel isn’t always about ticking sights off a list. Sometimes it’s about survival, about respecting the limits of your body and the environment. This ride wasn’t about sightseeing—it was about endurance, about practicing the real art of adventure motorcycling in Pakistan.

Arriving in Sukkur – Sukkur Travel Guide for Motorbike Riders

By the time I reached Sukkur, I had seen more accidents than I wanted to count. Two trucks toppled on their sides, their cargo spilled across the road—one load of potatoes rolling freely, another a chaos of cardboard boxes. Each accident was a grim reminder of road safety in Pakistan.

I rolled into a quieter neighborhood of Sukkur and found a guesthouse with a courtyard. The relief of being able to push Frankie inside, safe from curious eyes, was immediate. The day had been uneventful in terms of attractions, but in truth, it was a lesson in managing heat. Everything revolved around one question: how do I keep myself and Frankie from overheating?

That night, as I peeled off my black body armor, an idea struck me. Rev’it had sent me a new summer jacket—a mesh, light-blue one. My original plan had been to wear it over my armor, but now I considered another approach. What if I moved the protective inserts into the mesh jacket itself? It would allow far more airflow, and the lighter color might reflect some of the sun.

Into the Longest Day  Adventure Motorcycling from Sindh to Punjab

The next morning, I left Sukkur before 6 a.m. with an escort—two policemen on a motorcycle, riding ahead of me with flashing lights. It’s something you get used to when doing a motorcycle road trip in Pakistan as a foreigner.

Ahead lay 375 kilometers—my longest ride in days. I had no choice but to reach Bahawalpur, since only certain hotels accepted foreign travelers. It was a daunting distance, especially under this sun, but I had no option. The horizon demanded it.

The early hours were a blessing. The roads were lined with lush fields, and I saw buffalo bathing in the canals, their glossy black hides shining as they shook off water. Farmers scrubbed them clean, and the animals looked almost regal in the dawn light.

But soon, the highway transformed again into a river of trucks. Decorated with peacocks, lotus flowers, and Quranic verses painted in dazzling colors, they rumbled endlessly, belching smoke and dust. Their size made me feel small—so small that sometimes it felt like I didn’t belong among them. Frankie and I were mere specks in their towering presence.

Breakfast Again, Chai Stop, Pakistan, and Roadside Food

By 8:10 a.m., after more than two hours of steady riding, I stopped again for breakfast. This time, the meal was almost identical to yesterday—an omelette, chapati, and chai. But here’s the thing about roadside food: it never tastes the same twice.

I sat in what seemed to be the “family room,” a small section reserved for women and families. It gave me privacy, a rare commodity on the road. Outside, men sat in groups, sipping tea and staring curiously at the foreign rider. Inside, I enjoyed the rare comfort of eating without being observed.

I also refilled my Camelbak with water and added electrolyte packets. This is my essential heatwave travel tip: plain water isn’t enough. You need electrolytes to replace what the body loses through sweat.

Crossing Into Punjab, Pakistan: Journey

Back on the road, the chaos returned. A bus came barreling down the wrong side, horns blaring. Another truck had spilled its cargo—sacks of onions this time, scattered across the road as locals hurried to salvage what they could. Yet another truck had toppled, lying helplessly in the ditch, its wheels still spinning.

Soon, a milestone arrived: I crossed the invisible line from Sindh into Punjab, Pakistan. Having once traveled through the Indian side of Punjab, I couldn’t help reflecting on the history. This land was once one, a single cultural region split by the partition of 1947. Now, I was riding through the Pakistani Punjab, much larger, yet carrying the same essence—fields of wheat, farmers in white kurtas, and villages where life still revolved around canals and crops.

Bahawalpur at Last – Bahawalpur Attractions for Road Trip Travelers

By 11:45 a.m., after hours of battling sun and trucks, I rolled into Bahawalpur. The relief was indescribable. I found a hotel and checked in, thankful for a clean room and a place to collapse. My reflection in the mirror startled me: my face was streaked black with grime, my eyes bloodshot from wind and heat.

But exhaustion gave way to satisfaction. On the map, I traced the route—Sehwan travel, Sukkur travel guide, and now Bahawalpur attractions. Lahore loomed ahead, and further still, Islamabad. Each day brought me closer, but each day also demanded endurance.

Reflections on the Heatwave – Heatwave Travel Tips for Motorbike Touring

Locals shook their heads when I asked about the weather. “Not normal,” they repeated. The forecast showed it climbing even higher, two to three degrees more each day. All I could do was ride north, toward cooler lands, toward relief.

Not every journey is about sightseeing. Sometimes, it’s about survival. Floods, rainstorms, landslides, or, in this case, an unforgiving heatwave—these are all part of the road’s reality. You can’t avoid them. You can only endure them.

Travel Insights from the Road – Solo Travel in Pakistan by Motorcycle

1. Start before sunrise. Early departures are key to surviving a motorbike journey in Pakistan.

2. Electrolytes are non-negotiable. Staying hydrated is more than drinking—it’s about balance. A must for anyone facing riding in extreme heat.

3. Adapt your gear. Dark armor absorbs heat. Mesh jackets, light colors, and airflow can change everything.

4. Don’t chase detours. In extreme conditions, prioritize safety and endurance over attractions.

5. Respect the trucks. They are the kings of these highways. Give them space, stay alert, and admire the moving art galleries of Pakistani truck art.

That day, lying on the bed in Bahawalpur, I realized that not all stories are glamorous. Some are sweaty, gritty, and exhausting. But they are stories nonetheless—stories of endurance, of small wins, of roads that test your limits and remind you that travel is not always about beauty. It is about resilience.

And with Lahore on the horizon, I knew this heatwave was just another chapter—one I would one day look back on, not for its sights, but for the strength it demanded and the lessons it left behind.