Stats
Cars - 11
Motorbikes - 6
Minibuses - 2
Journeys
1 - Gahkuch to Minapin (4 hours) (07/08/25)
The first car that drove past stopped for me. Despite only going 45 minutes down the road, the two men insisted on driving me the 2 hours to Gilgit (which is where I said I was going, as I knew I could then hitch a second lift from here to Minapin, as it was the start of the Karakoram Highway). Getting in the car, I didn’t feel completely at ease with the two men and so, when they asked if I was alone, I told them no, my boyfriend was waiting for me in Minapin. And when we came across some tourist police, I made sure to roll down my window so that they saw me. The police eyed me and the guys suspiciously, and told me that if I had any problems, to just let them know as there were more police on the route. Then they each took a photo with me. Happy to be heading to Gilgit, I didn’t care too much that we went via a random village where we waited for 30 minutes in the car for one of the guys to do something. As we approached Gilgit, they asked if I was staying there. I said no, I would travel on to Minapin. They asked how far this was, and I said 2 more hours from Gilgit. The driver said he would take me there and, despite my protests that it was too far, he insisted. After the other guy got out in Gilgit, we headed onwards to Minapin. We stopped for momos and pizza for lunch, which he would not let me pay for, and he bought me a sprite and some crisps for the journey. The driver was 25 and didn’t speak great english but with the help of google translate we spoke about religion and the origin of man, and he told me that he had spent 2 years in hospital with blood cancer. We stopped so that some boys could take a photo of us in front of his car (people love their cars here) and he bought a lit cigarette from the boy (who was much too young to be smoking). I kept up my story about my boyfriend waiting for me in Minapin, but I could tell it was going to be a bit tricky to make this man leave once we had arrived at my hostel. With some firm google translating that I had lots to do to prepare for a hike the following morning, he ended up leaving without any fuss. I did receive a declaration of his love via whatsapp a few hours later, but I sensed that was inevitable.
All in all, a great first hitchhiking experience.
2 - Minapin to Ali abad (1 hour) (09/08/25)
I started walking along the dirt road out of Minapin to get to the main Karakoram Highway. When a car drove past, I waved it down and hopped in to the main road. The car was going in the other direction to me, so I said my thanks and waited for a car going the right way. The first one that drove past stopped for me. I saw a child in the back and jumped in. The driver spoke very good english and we chatted away for the 45 minute journey. We needed to make a detour to a different village to drop off the other passenger, and the guy insisted we also have some lunch here, so I could try his favourite dish (beef in a thin sauce). It was okay! He then took me back to Ali abad, even though this was slightly out of his way. I took his number and promised to whatsapp in case I wanted him to drive me to Hopper valley.
I’m learning that whilst I will be picked up immediately, there will usually be a detour involved. And also, that it is best to hitchhike hungry, as I will inevitably be taken out for food on the journey!
I had treated myself to a luxury ecolodge in Ali abad, for the grand total of £23. It was an incredible stay, I had my own little cabin with a fully glass front looking through the trees towards Rakaposhi mountain. I had tea and coffee in the room, and a modern bathroom with toiletries! I spent the afternoon chilling in the room, showering and doing some writing and life admin (including applying for my practising certificate for being a solicitor!). I ventured out and explored the town, taking in the slightly manic main street, book-ended with mountains on either side. I bought dried apricots and hand sanitiser, and peered into a bakery. I returned to the hotel as it got dark and had a real feast - a walnut salad, followed by a local dish called Hoi La Garm (spinach with flatbread pieces, a bit like pasta), washed down with apricot juice and finished off with a brownie and mango ice cream. All for the total price of £8. I slept like a baby in the comfy bed and enjoyed a delicious breakfast of pancakes with cherry jam and cream and french press coffee, with a view of Rakaposhi. I very much enjoyed my slice of luxury in the mountains, and thought about how nice it was to be able to treat myself like that. But it was also with a twinge of sadness - I really enjoyed the comforts of my stay, so much that I worried I was growing out of being an absolute budget traveller.
3 - Ali abad to Karimabad (20 minutes) (10/08/25)
As explained below, I had a few hours to spare which meant I had time to explore the forts of Karimabad. I was picked up by a local guy who looked more British than Pakistani (pale skin and gingery hair). He said he could definitely take me to the Altit Fort, and that he even had a surprise when we got there. The walk from the little car park to the fort was lovely, past a large pool of water where boys swam, and the old open court. After a discussion with the guard and ticket person in the local language, we were let in for free, and the guard bowed repeatedly to the guy. Odd I thought! As we walked through the garden and up to the fort, the surprise was revealed. The guy was part of the royal family of the area, and this was his grandfather’s home. His uncle (the crown prince) had given both forts to the local foundation to be visited by tourists, but his grandparents had both lived there. This meant I was given a VIP tour of the fort for free, and the guide kept apologising to the guy when he mentioned something negative about the royal family’s history, and kept checking certain things with him - all quite amusing! The guide also turned out to be an incredible videographer and photographer, so I had a full photo and video shoot in the fort too. It was great to learn more about the history and culture of the region, something I had only received snippets of so far.
I explored the second fort - Baltit fort (baltit means “upper” and altit “lower” in the local language) - alone. It was larger and perhaps even more impressive than the first, with coloured windows in several rooms. I enjoyed walking down the hill from the fort too, checking out the little shops selling gemstones and carpets. I did some admin, negotiating with a shop keeper to give me some cash in exchange for charging my card (none of the ATMs in the area seemed to work with foreign cards) and then collected my bag from the hitchhike guy. This was a bit odd however, nothing majorly wrong, I just started to get an odd vibe, so I turned down his offer of joining the family on a picnic to Attabad lake and went to grab a mango shake as I waited for my onwards lift.
4 - Karimabad to Ghulkin (45 minutes) (10/08/25)
Not strictly a hitchhike, the owner of the homestay I had contacted to stay at in Ghulkin was driving from Gilgit and so could pick me up. He would be a few hours (in Pakistani time, I knew this meant several hours) so I explored the forts and town of Karimabad whilst I waited. He picked me up from here, with his son, and we made one stop to visit his daughter at a women’s hostel. I had seen a few of these around and it was interesting to see what they actually were. It was a place for girls to live so they could attend school or college in the area, when their families lived a bit further away. I spoke to the girls for a little while, who were all excited to meet someone from England, and even more so when I told them that I was a lawyer. They were between the ages of 14 and 17 I would guess, and although the place seemed a bit odd to me, they seemed happy enough.
Once at the homestay, I read my book high above the building perched on a rock. I looked at the now familiar sight of apricots drying on roofs and the backdrop of rocky mountains. The homestay was also a bit odd and didn’t exude the warmth I had been expecting. I ate dinner with the other guest, an Italian guy who had come overland from Italy and we had very interesting conversations about the places he had visited and the state of Europe. He was planning to cross into China the same day as me (the 15th) so we exchanged numbers so we could cross together. He was travelling to Sost (the border town) the following day to try and find out if the border would be open on the 15th, and promised to feedback to me.
5 - A day of hopping around, ending at Passu (11/08/25)
My record number of hitchhikes in one day: 2 cars, 4 motorbikes, and 2 minibuses. One of the motorbike drivers even offered for me to take his bike when he couldn’t take me all the way to my destination as he had to go to work. Sadly, I don’t know how to drive a motorbike so I had to refuse. I think I would like to learn when back in England though…
I first travelled back down the Karakoram highway to the start of a hike to Baskochi meadows. Then back up to a cafe near Gulmit where I enjoyed an excellent iced latte and made use of finally having some phone service to book my trains in China. I also ate a very gooey and delicious brownie, which powered me through the afternoon. I hitched a lift to Hussaini Suspension bridge, so treacherous they give you a life jacket to wear as you walk across. I’m fairly okay with that sort of thing, and even I was left feeling quite queasy and only made it halfway across before deciding that was enough and turning back. I hitched another lift back to the turning for Gulmit, and then another up the hill before walking the last 15 minutes to the homestay. I picked up my bag and paid for the night, before starting to walk back down to the main road, hitching another lift, and then another one once on the main road to the infamous Yak Grill. Here I enjoyed a Yak Burger and wedges, before walking during sunset through the small town of Passu and to the hotel I would be staying in.
6 - The adventures of Irfan and Meg (12/08/25 - 16/08/25)
Whilst relaxing at the campsite on the Rakaposhi hike, I met and chatted to a kid called Irfan. He was 20 and had impeccable english. I found him quite funny, and he reminded me of my younger brother in a way. We exchanged numbers and I said I would message him when I reached Passu - his village.
Staying true to my word, I messaged him saying I would reach Passu the following day, and would check out his uncle’s cafe which he promised me had proper coffee. Whilst at the cafe, enjoying an excellent iced latte, he appeared. From then on, we hung out constantly, for almost 5 days! We messed around and bickered just as siblings do, and it really was like being with a younger brother for a few days.
He arranged for me to stay at his uncle’s hotel (still a construction site really, but with a lovely room with a great view of the Passu Cones). Another uncle was our guide for our hike to Patundas Meadow, another uncle provided us with a tent, and another uncle ran the cafe with nice coffee. It seemed that every man we met was an uncle!
On the first day, he met me where I was eating breakfast and we decided to go back to the nice cafe to get phone service and to have a coffee. Checking his motorbike, he assured me there was definitely enough fuel to get there. Fast forward 10 minutes to the bike spluttering to a stop on a hill, me getting off to walk and him having to push it. “Don’t worry, it’s all downhill from here so we can just coast the rest of the way.” I looked ahead and could see several more hills and rolled my eyes. Luckily, a kind man on his motorbike stopped and syphoned off some fuel for us. After the cafe, and after Irfan had got some more fuel, we drove to Borith lake. It was a saltwater lake, and not particularly beautiful. It smelt like sulfur, and the area was barren around it. I read my book with my feet in the water until I was too hot and hungry. We went to a little restaurant for lunch (we had traditional chap soro, a flatbread stuffed with meat) and then went on a hunt for some fruit. This took us back towards the cafe with the nice coffee, and we found that the road right next to the cafe had been completely destroyed by a flash flood caused by the glacier melting. It was crazy, the road was completely gone, and one cafe had been completely washed away. We thanked our luck that we were on the right side, and felt bad for all those who weren’t. Over the next few days, I met several groups of people who were left stranded, unable to drive south. We eventually found some mangoes and drove to Irfan’s home. His mum cut up the mangoes for us, and Irfan showed me multiple ways to eat them. He showed me his traditional instrument and played this for me. We played with his dog, an energetic cocker spaniel called Solar Panel (because he was black). We sat in the garden with a view of the Passu Cones as I read my book and Irfan spoke at me. We returned back to the broken road in search of phone service, and had some dumplings for dinner. He dropped me back at his uncle’s hotel, where I was staying, and stayed in the room next to me. We would be off hiking for three days in the morning!
Once back from the hike, I decided to stay in Passu for one more night, so the adventures of Irfan and Meg, a phrase we coined whilst riding on his motorbike, continued for a while longer. I knew that, despite being almost 7 years younger than me, he felt like my protector (mostly because he told me this), which made me chuckle but I decided to let him go on believing it. It reminded me of something similar that my brother had said whilst we travelled together in Istanbul.
On the following day, when I was definitely going to leave and head to the next town, I ran into him as I was about to start hitchhiking. He convinced me to stay for a meal with his family and the friends we had met hiking, saying he would drop me at the next town afterwards. Not taking much persuading, I agreed. We returned to his house and relaxed for a while, I chatted to his father as Irfan and his mum prepared the meal (they didn’t accept my offer to help!). We picked up our friends and enjoyed a delicious meal of chinese style curry with rice, traditional pancakes and fresh mangoes and apricots. Irfan’s father spoke about his time working and living in Kabul, and especially the day that the Taliban took over and he and his colleagues were extracted from the city. It was an afternoon of wonderful company.
On our final motorbike journey (or what we thought was our final one…), Irfan said he would have come with me to China if he could get the visa. I said that would have been nice, and I meant it. We got on very well, only falling out slightly once (when he almost pushed me off a cliff), and I had grown rather fond of his company. We high-fived goodbye and I promised to message him when I came to Pakistan again, and he promised to let me know if he ever came to London. I’d agreed to take him to a goth night if he did, as he had decided he was into goth girls and to try and bring him a goth girl next time I visited.
I suppose one of the reasons it was such a lovely relationship was because there was no hint of any underlying romantic angle. It was a pure friendship. The adventures of Irfan and Meg - another highlight of my time in Pakistan.
7 - Passu to Jamalabad (1 hour) (16/08/25)
After the final meal at Irfan’s, just as it got dark, I climbed onto Irfan’s different motorbike. We drove down the lane and I felt rather unstable on the bike, as we drew close to the main road Irfan turned and said “I don’t think I can take you all the way, the brakes don’t work”. I hastily agreed and said I would hitchhike! We hit the main road and a car immediately drove past, which we flagged down. It was the chefs from the infamous Yak Grill that I had eaten at several times - happy to get in with these men I said a final goodbye to Irfan and we left. We chatted away in the car, which I noted was going very slowly up the hills, until we reached the little lane running up to the village and the homestay. As we hit a slightly more aggressive incline, the car had had enough and cut out. The men laughed and I laughed with them as we climbed out and pushed the car out of the way of the lane. I looked up the dark road and felt nervous at the idea of walking alone to the homestay, even though it was only 20 minutes away. One of the men took my bag and gestured for me to lead the way, they said of course they would accompany me to the homestay! How lovely, and so we all walked up together, admiring the stars. There was, thankfully, life at the homestay and it turned out that the owner was the driver’s uncle (no shock there) and so they stayed for a while to eat and drink (chinese wine!) and I joined in, whilst frantically using the phone service which had appeared to sort the remaining things for China and my Indian visa. The two guys had come to the village for a wedding party, and asked me if I would like to join them. I said I would love that, and so we headed back to the village, along with another guy from the homestay who it later became apparent had only joined so he could walk me back later.
We first visited the groom’s side, and we watched the dancing and ate food with them. I spoke to a man who had caught the first snow leopard in Pakistan, and one guy who was living in New York. We went to sit with the groom, who, similar to a stag do, was with his close friends smoking and drinking brandy and joking around. I sat next to him and was included in the jokes and the rounds of brandy. It was great fun! I was convinced to dance the Pakistani style dance with the children, which felt silly but also fun. We saw where the men were preparing thefood for the following day - several boiled sheep. Then we went over to the bride’s side, and sat and celebrated with her too. Both parties were in the traditional Wakhi rooms. It was so cool to experience! The guy from the homestay walked me back and we again admired the stars. An unexpected but wonderful hitchhike experience!
Overall
Initially, I was definitely apprehensive before each hitchhike. Worried about getting myself into trouble, into a situation I couldn’t control or get out of. However, after the third hitchhike, I realised that the chances of such a situation were very low, and that it was really rather joyful and fun. This was helped by how easy it was, the first car stopped for me every single time bar once (and I think that car was already full). People were kind and seemed very aware of the perspective the outside world has of them, and were very keen to show that this was not the case. They were not, in fact, gun wielding terrorists who frequently committed violence against women. They were kind, hospitable people, desperate for the tourism industry to continue and reach pre 9/11 levels. I had nothing but wonderful hitchhiking experiences, and I do not think this was just me being lucky. I think it genuinely is safe to hitchhike in northern Pakistan!