Ham46
Guest
Currently on world tour and thought I'd share my experience in Pakistan:
The border crossing was straightforward for Tino and I, but Oliver had overstayed his visa in Iran by one day, he wouldn’t have done but for the insane escorts and was sent back to get an extension along with a hundred dollar fine. He caught up at the customs post in Nokkundi the first village on the run across the desert, the road was good apart from the sand drifts, should I attack them fast or slow crosses your mind as you approach, as usual the bottle goes and you end up making a right mess, the overweight BMW, going any which way apart from straight. The heat of the days was intense especially wearing all the protective clothing. Hours passed by on the long straight road, at one point I manage to ride for twenty miles without touching the handlebars of the bike, I just set the cruise control and used my body weight to navigate the few bends I encountered, the things you do when your bored!
Apart from the odd Police check points along the road we encountered very little traffic, by the time we reached Quetta we could all recite our passport numbers. In Quetta we were told about the occasional bomb blasts mostly targeting the Police or Army, when they say occasionally, they mean two the day before we arrived and one that day, our decision to not stay many days wasn’t a hard one to make.
On the road south and after I lost my rear footrest, only to be retrieved by Tino we settled down by a lake in which Tino and Oliver took little time to cool down in the crystal blue water. It was time to move on; just then we were joined by a Police pickup truck that decided we should have an escort because of the dangers of travelling in Pakistan. They delivered us down to a small town called Sibi. Just as we parked our bikes inside the hotel the heaven’s opened and flooded the streets around us. The evening was spent by continual harassment from one Police department or another, they just couldn’t talk to each other and the final straw was when they thought there was a Holden Graham and a Graham Holden.
We continued south along with our armed tour guides, who weren’t pleased that we travelled at different speeds and insisted we stick together. We were finally handed over that day to the Punjab Elite Anti Terrorist Squad, they found us a nice hotel that we couldn’t afford, so the manager had to reduce the price, at least we were using our new friends to influence the world around us. By this time we’d had enough of the armed tour guides and decided to hatch an escape plan for the following day!
The day started early and we were on the road again, the police always wanted to know were we wanted to go, which was a bit difficult to answer as we just wanted to ride were the mood took us. We stopped for refreshment and plan A was put into action. First Tino set off up the road, the Punjab Elite insisted we hurry; eventually I set off in pursuit of Tino, leaving Oliver to enjoy another cigarette, the sergeant started screaming in Oliver’s face to get going, so like all good Welsh lads he just took his time. Oliver caught us up as he blasted away from the old beat up Toyota pick up, we were now well out of sight so a quick left turn. The Punjab Elite sped past in hot pursuit.
Back on the road in the heat of the midday sun, forty minute on and the tour guides were hot on our tales, we pulled over for some refreshments only to be questioned as to were we had been, they said they were worried for our safety, complete and utter bullshit, I suppose they had to explain to their superiors how the Punjab Elite had lost three bikers along the main highway.
They must have been glad to see the back of us as they handed their precious cargo over to the next escort, we continued to wonder if they explained to the next escorts what a pain in the arse we were turning out to be. These guys took us for drinks and turned out to be really cool Police, the next escorts insisted on riding in front, our speed dropped off and they slowed, we insisted on travelling in front as we didn’t want to experience Pakistan through the tailgates of blue Toyota pickups! We were taken to one hotel, checked in, washed the bikes and then told by special branch we couldn’t stay their and had to move on, we insisted that we would have to have two escorts, one in front and one in the rear as it would be dark soon, which they did for a while but then the rear guard disappeared, eventually we hit a large town late and it was already dark, a hotel was found and a guard posted. Tino and Oliver didn’t feel much like eating, so I told the Guard I wanted to go out to eat. He informed me an escort was on its way. Twenty minutes later and no escort so I wondered on to the street followed by our personal protection, He insisted I go back in, I settled at a small street café next to the hotel. The poor policeman paced back and forward between the hotel and me were he was trying to keep an eye on us all. Some local students bought me tea as I enquired as to the nearest Internet café. Armed with the information my escape was on, as the officer walked back towards the hotel I slipped away down the dark back street. The students met me up the road, laughing and joking about the Policeman going mad as I’d disappeared, Hours later I returned to a not so warm welcome from a whole bunch of police officers all looking frantically for a missing British biker.
The morning soon dawned and we packed, out of the hotel car park and on the streets again. We visited the local tourist information centre to see if there was any restricted areas we had to avoid, the reply was pretty straight forward, ‘No’, armed with the information we hit the roads again, every policeman on the streets tried to stop us, we just kept going, a 125cc police motorcyclist even tried, but much to his frustration we just carried on. By the time we made the end of the town a blue pick-up was hot on our heels, no problem we managed to find an embankment just wide enough for the bikes leaving the truck stranded, mile after mile down tiny roads along the side of the river and we had broken free once again. Eventually we stopped to get refreshments, within minutes the truck appeared. They offered to show us some local ruins not far away, so off we went with the armed tour guides. On our return to the bikes the locals encircled us, which was quite amusing. The Officer in charge enquired to our to our plans, ‘that way’ I replied, ‘no’ was the reply, I started my engine and the officer tried to remove the keys, ‘get off my bike’ I screamed, as I revved it up and moved forward, I asked if we were under arrest, ‘no’ was the reply, so off I sped closely followed by Tino and Oliver. The escape was on into the jungle
Down the small dirt lanes through the village and away, the tour guides in hot pursuit, Tino took a quick left across a tiny track, we just followed, miles and miles of tracks, across fields, dried up river beds and sand dunes by the river, we had been running for hours with several encounters with our uniformed friends, on one occasion I’d dropped the bike in a mud bath of a track and the foxes were hot on my heels as the boys disappeared into the distance, tired and exhausted I had to pick up the bike alone all three hundred and odd kilos, from somewhere I found the strength, engine started just as the truck approached, in gear and off, spraying the front of the truck with mud as I disappeared into the distance.
We must have lost our nannies for about half an hour, Tino shot off to try and find the ferry across the river, on his return along a different route across the river bed he was forced to change direction as his bike started to sink, he nearly made it before his engine died, ‘help’ he cried ‘my bikes sinking’ Oliver and I just looked and laughed, the screams came again, so we slowly walk the two hundred yards over to him, took his picture then attempted to retrieve his bike. Recovery complete and we’re sliding through the dunes again, another twenty minutes passed in the sweltering heat, down on water and no food we just rested under a tree, Tino was off again looking for the mystical ferry. Fifteen minutes later and no Tino, just the sound of the Toyota truck approaching, the truck slid to a halt and the armed officers ran towards us, at this moment I was having flashbacks to earlier in the day when I nearly flattened the officer, luckily they where all laughing and shook our hands saying we were crazy riding off road for so many hours, but their superiors were going mad as we had gone into the jungle, but they were having a great time! They sat down with a concerned look on their faces as there was only two of us now and one was missing, minutes later the thumping sound of Tino’s engine could be heard in the distance growing stronger and stronger till he appeared over the crest of the sand dunes, finally arriving with news that the ferry did exist and we could put our bikes on it.
The ferry was a twenty foot long wooded boat, eventually we managed to load the bikes, much to the amusement of the armed tour guides, the crossing was uneventful, but getting the bikes off the other end was a lot trickier than loading and the embankment was very steep, at one point I nearly lost the front end down a six foot drop into the river.
Our new Guides took us 10k up to our next rendezvous, as we sat drinking sprite an other blue Toyota pick-up came to a shuddering halt, the driver a six foot two guy jumped out, lifted the bonnet and topped up the radiator, then screamed hurry, hurry, I have a slow puncture in my rear tyre. We put on our helmets and started to follow this maniac across the bridge and along the road. He was so quick he was out of sight within minutes, Tino and I looked at each other and pulled over, we decided to U-turn and headed back towards the bridge, just before we turned left along an embankment, which stops the river flooding, as we flew down the dusty track Tino came along side me and gestured for me to look behind, sure enough there was a massive cloud of dust following, we pulled over and waited as the Toyota came barrelling up the track. What are you doing was the cry from the crazy driver, we thought we would take the scenic route was our cheeky reply. Again he screamed aloud about is failing tyre and told me to do 2k then turn left, so doing as I was told off I went, 20 meters up the track was a left turn, so doing as I was told I carried on, They stopped Tino and Oli and asked what the hell I was doing, Tino and Oliver just looked at each other and laughed. About 1k down the track I turned left and joined a tarmac road, rode about another five or six kilometre’s to a small village were I was taking some refreshments when the truck once again came to an extreme stand still, the driver rushed over to me and shoved his face into mine screaming I told you to turn left! I paused then replied, you told me 2k, so that’s what I did, he looked at me, put his head in his hands realising what he had said back on the embankment.
The next nannies told me they needed to get petrol, big, big mistake, as we rode up the road I saw them in my mirror overtake Tino and then Oliver, up ahead I spotted a petrol station, so my right hand just twisted the throttle enough to keep me ahead of the truck, as we approached he turned right into the station and yet an other escape was on. The boys followed me and we were on the run again, a quick right at a fork in the road followed by right down a dirt path and we were into several fields overlooked by another embankment, we raced across the field, Tino ahead of us drifted across the mud with ease, my bike just sank in the mud, quickly Tino ran back and Oliver stopped to help, it was out and I rode into the field across to the embankment, Oliver started his bike and in the rush to escape over revved the engine in the mud and the engine just cut out, then from behind the maize crop we heard the Police shouting, next thing five heavily armed police were rushing towards Oliver as he stood there stranded, by this time Tino and I were sitting on the grass by the embankment just laughing at the whole situation, it looked so comical, a bit like keystone cops! The police were great they recovered Oliver’s bike to the Embankment, we stripped it down, removed the plugs, checked for a spark, everything seemed ok, tried starting the bike and it was living again. The police asked were we would like to go, we said we’ll camp here, they insisted it wasn’t safe but new a place were we could camp. We followed them onto the embankment, the sun was just setting, the views were spectacular. We arrived at a bridge on the river were a small police station was located with a nice lawn for us to camp on, within minutes the tents were pitched and we settled on the grass, Bang, smash, holy crap, two vehicles had gone head on into each other on the bridge, not usual low speed affairs, this was massive, the officers all ran towards the accident, meanwhile the traffic just backed up and up and up. Eventually some of the guys returned, one of them gave us his supper as he had to go to the hospital with the injured parties, a call came in saying we couldn’t stay and had to move on, we flatly refused as it was now very dark and we’d done enough riding for one day. Their answer to this was to put their beds positioned around the tents.
The morning came and we were packed and ready for the off, they insisted we wait for the escort, but as usual we had other ideas and made our way along the road, the escort picked us up and we were off again, stopping at the first village for refreshment, we were asked which way we wanted to go yet again, this way we replied, ‘no’ came back their response, so engines started of we went, well Tino and I whizzed away Oliver was stopped straight away. We rode down the road nearly being stopped by another patrol, then I noticed ahead of me two tractors and trailers blocking the road, I was upon them, these guys didn’t have the usual uniforms of the police, so I quickly noticed a small gully at the side of the road, I shot down into the gully as one of the Ak47 wheeling men tried to grab me, the throttle was open and I was gone, as I sped up the road I checked my mirrors, no Tino just a blue Toyota pick-up in hot pursuit, it was the police after all, so I slowed down to let him catch up and catch up he did, he came along side and rammed me off the bike!
The bike lay on it’s side, pouring petrol out and the ignition on as one of the police officers grabbed my right arm with both his hands like a python, whilst the other pointed his machine gun at me, I screamed let me pick the bike up and turn it off, this went on for which seamed like an eternity, in my mind I thought I could floor the python but would get shot, so this wasn’t an option, eventually the police told the ever increasing crowd to pick the bike up which they did but didn’t turn it off. Then the officer must of asked some of the crowd to grab me to throw me into his truck, two guys tried to get a grip of me from behind, by this time I had removed my helmet, I smashed one of them with it and back kicked the other, they retreated, I continued to ask the officer to switch of the bike, contact his superior, he just kept insisting I get in his truck and go back to the police station, to which I replied I wasn’t leaving the bike, this went on and on. By this time the traffic had all stopped and the crowd was massive, the officer shouted something to the crowd and I was attacked from all sides, kicks, blows to the head and body, the body blows weren’t to bad as the motorcycle gear protected me, but sticks to the head were another matter, eventually they man handled me over to his truck and launched me into the back, closing the tailgate as quick as possible, unfortunately for them I managed to keep my legs outside, trapped in the tailgate, the padding on my motorcycle trousers taking a beating from the pressure the crowd was forcing on the tailgate. They told me to put my legs inside, but in my mind I thought if I was in the truck they would take me back to the police station leaving my bike and gear exposed to who knows what! So after getting into the front of the truck and attempting to drag me in, which was never going to work they decided to tie my legs up, I was exhausted from all the antics, but luckily I still had water in my camel back so began to drink and try and get my breath back, at this point a guy pushed his head through a small window at the rear of the truck and said he was from the press, I explained what had happened and he spent the next ten minute arguing with the police to untie me and lift the tailgate, eventually they did and I received a gust of fresh air as the tailgate was lifted, followed closely by the release of my legs. I asked the police man again to contact his superiors, but he refused, they still insisted I leave the bike and return to the police station with them, which I flatly refused, I asked the press guy to come back to the police station on the back of my bike, his reply was No! No, you will take my prisoner, what I replied! Eventually we put a police officer on the back of the bike with me, armed of course, another bike along side with the press guy and another officer and the truck leading the way.
On the way back we were met by the Chief of Police, who apologised for the treatment I’d received, he insisted when we returned to the police station he wanted me to write a statement. On our return Tino’s and Oliver’s bikes were sat outside in the courtyard, I went in and they were sat in front of the TV eating and drinking, On the news was the bombing in Islamabad, no wonder everyone was edgy.
It was time to move on again, this time we did as we were told and headed up to Islamabad and the campsite. Only losing the escort as we entered the city in the dense traffic!
flashgreenmotorcycleadventure.com
The border crossing was straightforward for Tino and I, but Oliver had overstayed his visa in Iran by one day, he wouldn’t have done but for the insane escorts and was sent back to get an extension along with a hundred dollar fine. He caught up at the customs post in Nokkundi the first village on the run across the desert, the road was good apart from the sand drifts, should I attack them fast or slow crosses your mind as you approach, as usual the bottle goes and you end up making a right mess, the overweight BMW, going any which way apart from straight. The heat of the days was intense especially wearing all the protective clothing. Hours passed by on the long straight road, at one point I manage to ride for twenty miles without touching the handlebars of the bike, I just set the cruise control and used my body weight to navigate the few bends I encountered, the things you do when your bored!
Apart from the odd Police check points along the road we encountered very little traffic, by the time we reached Quetta we could all recite our passport numbers. In Quetta we were told about the occasional bomb blasts mostly targeting the Police or Army, when they say occasionally, they mean two the day before we arrived and one that day, our decision to not stay many days wasn’t a hard one to make.
On the road south and after I lost my rear footrest, only to be retrieved by Tino we settled down by a lake in which Tino and Oliver took little time to cool down in the crystal blue water. It was time to move on; just then we were joined by a Police pickup truck that decided we should have an escort because of the dangers of travelling in Pakistan. They delivered us down to a small town called Sibi. Just as we parked our bikes inside the hotel the heaven’s opened and flooded the streets around us. The evening was spent by continual harassment from one Police department or another, they just couldn’t talk to each other and the final straw was when they thought there was a Holden Graham and a Graham Holden.
We continued south along with our armed tour guides, who weren’t pleased that we travelled at different speeds and insisted we stick together. We were finally handed over that day to the Punjab Elite Anti Terrorist Squad, they found us a nice hotel that we couldn’t afford, so the manager had to reduce the price, at least we were using our new friends to influence the world around us. By this time we’d had enough of the armed tour guides and decided to hatch an escape plan for the following day!
The day started early and we were on the road again, the police always wanted to know were we wanted to go, which was a bit difficult to answer as we just wanted to ride were the mood took us. We stopped for refreshment and plan A was put into action. First Tino set off up the road, the Punjab Elite insisted we hurry; eventually I set off in pursuit of Tino, leaving Oliver to enjoy another cigarette, the sergeant started screaming in Oliver’s face to get going, so like all good Welsh lads he just took his time. Oliver caught us up as he blasted away from the old beat up Toyota pick up, we were now well out of sight so a quick left turn. The Punjab Elite sped past in hot pursuit.
Back on the road in the heat of the midday sun, forty minute on and the tour guides were hot on our tales, we pulled over for some refreshments only to be questioned as to were we had been, they said they were worried for our safety, complete and utter bullshit, I suppose they had to explain to their superiors how the Punjab Elite had lost three bikers along the main highway.
They must have been glad to see the back of us as they handed their precious cargo over to the next escort, we continued to wonder if they explained to the next escorts what a pain in the arse we were turning out to be. These guys took us for drinks and turned out to be really cool Police, the next escorts insisted on riding in front, our speed dropped off and they slowed, we insisted on travelling in front as we didn’t want to experience Pakistan through the tailgates of blue Toyota pickups! We were taken to one hotel, checked in, washed the bikes and then told by special branch we couldn’t stay their and had to move on, we insisted that we would have to have two escorts, one in front and one in the rear as it would be dark soon, which they did for a while but then the rear guard disappeared, eventually we hit a large town late and it was already dark, a hotel was found and a guard posted. Tino and Oliver didn’t feel much like eating, so I told the Guard I wanted to go out to eat. He informed me an escort was on its way. Twenty minutes later and no escort so I wondered on to the street followed by our personal protection, He insisted I go back in, I settled at a small street café next to the hotel. The poor policeman paced back and forward between the hotel and me were he was trying to keep an eye on us all. Some local students bought me tea as I enquired as to the nearest Internet café. Armed with the information my escape was on, as the officer walked back towards the hotel I slipped away down the dark back street. The students met me up the road, laughing and joking about the Policeman going mad as I’d disappeared, Hours later I returned to a not so warm welcome from a whole bunch of police officers all looking frantically for a missing British biker.
The morning soon dawned and we packed, out of the hotel car park and on the streets again. We visited the local tourist information centre to see if there was any restricted areas we had to avoid, the reply was pretty straight forward, ‘No’, armed with the information we hit the roads again, every policeman on the streets tried to stop us, we just kept going, a 125cc police motorcyclist even tried, but much to his frustration we just carried on. By the time we made the end of the town a blue pick-up was hot on our heels, no problem we managed to find an embankment just wide enough for the bikes leaving the truck stranded, mile after mile down tiny roads along the side of the river and we had broken free once again. Eventually we stopped to get refreshments, within minutes the truck appeared. They offered to show us some local ruins not far away, so off we went with the armed tour guides. On our return to the bikes the locals encircled us, which was quite amusing. The Officer in charge enquired to our to our plans, ‘that way’ I replied, ‘no’ was the reply, I started my engine and the officer tried to remove the keys, ‘get off my bike’ I screamed, as I revved it up and moved forward, I asked if we were under arrest, ‘no’ was the reply, so off I sped closely followed by Tino and Oliver. The escape was on into the jungle
Down the small dirt lanes through the village and away, the tour guides in hot pursuit, Tino took a quick left across a tiny track, we just followed, miles and miles of tracks, across fields, dried up river beds and sand dunes by the river, we had been running for hours with several encounters with our uniformed friends, on one occasion I’d dropped the bike in a mud bath of a track and the foxes were hot on my heels as the boys disappeared into the distance, tired and exhausted I had to pick up the bike alone all three hundred and odd kilos, from somewhere I found the strength, engine started just as the truck approached, in gear and off, spraying the front of the truck with mud as I disappeared into the distance.
We must have lost our nannies for about half an hour, Tino shot off to try and find the ferry across the river, on his return along a different route across the river bed he was forced to change direction as his bike started to sink, he nearly made it before his engine died, ‘help’ he cried ‘my bikes sinking’ Oliver and I just looked and laughed, the screams came again, so we slowly walk the two hundred yards over to him, took his picture then attempted to retrieve his bike. Recovery complete and we’re sliding through the dunes again, another twenty minutes passed in the sweltering heat, down on water and no food we just rested under a tree, Tino was off again looking for the mystical ferry. Fifteen minutes later and no Tino, just the sound of the Toyota truck approaching, the truck slid to a halt and the armed officers ran towards us, at this moment I was having flashbacks to earlier in the day when I nearly flattened the officer, luckily they where all laughing and shook our hands saying we were crazy riding off road for so many hours, but their superiors were going mad as we had gone into the jungle, but they were having a great time! They sat down with a concerned look on their faces as there was only two of us now and one was missing, minutes later the thumping sound of Tino’s engine could be heard in the distance growing stronger and stronger till he appeared over the crest of the sand dunes, finally arriving with news that the ferry did exist and we could put our bikes on it.
The ferry was a twenty foot long wooded boat, eventually we managed to load the bikes, much to the amusement of the armed tour guides, the crossing was uneventful, but getting the bikes off the other end was a lot trickier than loading and the embankment was very steep, at one point I nearly lost the front end down a six foot drop into the river.
Our new Guides took us 10k up to our next rendezvous, as we sat drinking sprite an other blue Toyota pick-up came to a shuddering halt, the driver a six foot two guy jumped out, lifted the bonnet and topped up the radiator, then screamed hurry, hurry, I have a slow puncture in my rear tyre. We put on our helmets and started to follow this maniac across the bridge and along the road. He was so quick he was out of sight within minutes, Tino and I looked at each other and pulled over, we decided to U-turn and headed back towards the bridge, just before we turned left along an embankment, which stops the river flooding, as we flew down the dusty track Tino came along side me and gestured for me to look behind, sure enough there was a massive cloud of dust following, we pulled over and waited as the Toyota came barrelling up the track. What are you doing was the cry from the crazy driver, we thought we would take the scenic route was our cheeky reply. Again he screamed aloud about is failing tyre and told me to do 2k then turn left, so doing as I was told off I went, 20 meters up the track was a left turn, so doing as I was told I carried on, They stopped Tino and Oli and asked what the hell I was doing, Tino and Oliver just looked at each other and laughed. About 1k down the track I turned left and joined a tarmac road, rode about another five or six kilometre’s to a small village were I was taking some refreshments when the truck once again came to an extreme stand still, the driver rushed over to me and shoved his face into mine screaming I told you to turn left! I paused then replied, you told me 2k, so that’s what I did, he looked at me, put his head in his hands realising what he had said back on the embankment.
The next nannies told me they needed to get petrol, big, big mistake, as we rode up the road I saw them in my mirror overtake Tino and then Oliver, up ahead I spotted a petrol station, so my right hand just twisted the throttle enough to keep me ahead of the truck, as we approached he turned right into the station and yet an other escape was on. The boys followed me and we were on the run again, a quick right at a fork in the road followed by right down a dirt path and we were into several fields overlooked by another embankment, we raced across the field, Tino ahead of us drifted across the mud with ease, my bike just sank in the mud, quickly Tino ran back and Oliver stopped to help, it was out and I rode into the field across to the embankment, Oliver started his bike and in the rush to escape over revved the engine in the mud and the engine just cut out, then from behind the maize crop we heard the Police shouting, next thing five heavily armed police were rushing towards Oliver as he stood there stranded, by this time Tino and I were sitting on the grass by the embankment just laughing at the whole situation, it looked so comical, a bit like keystone cops! The police were great they recovered Oliver’s bike to the Embankment, we stripped it down, removed the plugs, checked for a spark, everything seemed ok, tried starting the bike and it was living again. The police asked were we would like to go, we said we’ll camp here, they insisted it wasn’t safe but new a place were we could camp. We followed them onto the embankment, the sun was just setting, the views were spectacular. We arrived at a bridge on the river were a small police station was located with a nice lawn for us to camp on, within minutes the tents were pitched and we settled on the grass, Bang, smash, holy crap, two vehicles had gone head on into each other on the bridge, not usual low speed affairs, this was massive, the officers all ran towards the accident, meanwhile the traffic just backed up and up and up. Eventually some of the guys returned, one of them gave us his supper as he had to go to the hospital with the injured parties, a call came in saying we couldn’t stay and had to move on, we flatly refused as it was now very dark and we’d done enough riding for one day. Their answer to this was to put their beds positioned around the tents.
The morning came and we were packed and ready for the off, they insisted we wait for the escort, but as usual we had other ideas and made our way along the road, the escort picked us up and we were off again, stopping at the first village for refreshment, we were asked which way we wanted to go yet again, this way we replied, ‘no’ came back their response, so engines started of we went, well Tino and I whizzed away Oliver was stopped straight away. We rode down the road nearly being stopped by another patrol, then I noticed ahead of me two tractors and trailers blocking the road, I was upon them, these guys didn’t have the usual uniforms of the police, so I quickly noticed a small gully at the side of the road, I shot down into the gully as one of the Ak47 wheeling men tried to grab me, the throttle was open and I was gone, as I sped up the road I checked my mirrors, no Tino just a blue Toyota pick-up in hot pursuit, it was the police after all, so I slowed down to let him catch up and catch up he did, he came along side and rammed me off the bike!
The bike lay on it’s side, pouring petrol out and the ignition on as one of the police officers grabbed my right arm with both his hands like a python, whilst the other pointed his machine gun at me, I screamed let me pick the bike up and turn it off, this went on for which seamed like an eternity, in my mind I thought I could floor the python but would get shot, so this wasn’t an option, eventually the police told the ever increasing crowd to pick the bike up which they did but didn’t turn it off. Then the officer must of asked some of the crowd to grab me to throw me into his truck, two guys tried to get a grip of me from behind, by this time I had removed my helmet, I smashed one of them with it and back kicked the other, they retreated, I continued to ask the officer to switch of the bike, contact his superior, he just kept insisting I get in his truck and go back to the police station, to which I replied I wasn’t leaving the bike, this went on and on. By this time the traffic had all stopped and the crowd was massive, the officer shouted something to the crowd and I was attacked from all sides, kicks, blows to the head and body, the body blows weren’t to bad as the motorcycle gear protected me, but sticks to the head were another matter, eventually they man handled me over to his truck and launched me into the back, closing the tailgate as quick as possible, unfortunately for them I managed to keep my legs outside, trapped in the tailgate, the padding on my motorcycle trousers taking a beating from the pressure the crowd was forcing on the tailgate. They told me to put my legs inside, but in my mind I thought if I was in the truck they would take me back to the police station leaving my bike and gear exposed to who knows what! So after getting into the front of the truck and attempting to drag me in, which was never going to work they decided to tie my legs up, I was exhausted from all the antics, but luckily I still had water in my camel back so began to drink and try and get my breath back, at this point a guy pushed his head through a small window at the rear of the truck and said he was from the press, I explained what had happened and he spent the next ten minute arguing with the police to untie me and lift the tailgate, eventually they did and I received a gust of fresh air as the tailgate was lifted, followed closely by the release of my legs. I asked the police man again to contact his superiors, but he refused, they still insisted I leave the bike and return to the police station with them, which I flatly refused, I asked the press guy to come back to the police station on the back of my bike, his reply was No! No, you will take my prisoner, what I replied! Eventually we put a police officer on the back of the bike with me, armed of course, another bike along side with the press guy and another officer and the truck leading the way.
On the way back we were met by the Chief of Police, who apologised for the treatment I’d received, he insisted when we returned to the police station he wanted me to write a statement. On our return Tino’s and Oliver’s bikes were sat outside in the courtyard, I went in and they were sat in front of the TV eating and drinking, On the news was the bombing in Islamabad, no wonder everyone was edgy.
It was time to move on again, this time we did as we were told and headed up to Islamabad and the campsite. Only losing the escort as we entered the city in the dense traffic!
flashgreenmotorcycleadventure.com
i bet you are the same narrow minded twat that whinges about "non britsh" doing things different to the queens way in the UK....
