Just as we were getting there, there was an enormous truck that had fallen through the road and was stuck, half on the road and half off, with steel cables all over the ground.
There was no way round.
The trucks had amassed a few miles back. We had to turn back for an hour to the next bridge.
We arrived to find the Karimabad gang already in situ. We spent another pleasant evening chatting, and found an English guy riding an old Aussie postie bike called Dot Cotton from Australia to the UK.
We went trout-fishing. In Pakistan. It pleased me greatly.
A shabby old jeep took five of us, with only three rods and two hooks. We had adventure in our hearts and the smell of grilled fish in our noses….
We didn’t catch one bleeding fish the whole time.
The actual fishing was very relaxed though, despite the strange numbers of Pakistani fishers who appeared seemlessly every time we parked up and got our rods out.
We tried various different amazing locations, and watched young kids catch fish using bits of stick and string.
The next evening we arrived back in Gilgit, stayed one night, and were off again on another adventure… our days were becoming action-packed!