Islamabad and another Indian Embassy
The next day we rode to Islamabad in four hours. The escorts left us, clueless and lost, at the city outskirts. Oh. It was up to me, the world’s worst navigator, to find the campsite. I did it! I was very proud, until I saw the actual camping area. It was a dusty patch of ground, with soldiers around it with mounted machine guns. I was getting a tad miffed with all the guns, and reminded myself they were there for our protection- until I noticed the guns were pointing inwards, towards the camping ground. The campsite had a revolting toilet block with no electricity, no water in the taps, and very large insect creatures lurking in the shadows. There was an odd armoured monster truck parked up, belonging to a Swiss man driving home from his Cambodian workplace. Long commute if you ask me. We put up the tent for the night. I went inside. Ten minutes later I came back out, with my clothes s...