Off to Murree

Finding a bus to Murree

I had wanted to come to Murree as it is the town where Pat (Kim’s dad) was born. I had offered to bring a ziploc bag of his ashes to scatter; probably somewhat in jest as I’d have difficulty trying to explain what the grey powder was if ever questioned by the authorities. I have been told though that it looks like powdered mushroom soup.

We waited at the General Bus Stand at Lahore for the bus to Murree. Signs were only in Urdu (nothing in English); it surprises me that English is not that widely spoken amongst people who don’t work with foreigners. I found myself being able to read the destination signs fairly well; the Urdu language employs the cursive (and modified) Arabic script and looks scribbly to the extreme to people with limited Arabic skills. If the same sign was written in normal standard font, it would be so much easier for me.

The ride to Murree

To my surprise, the large bus left with empty seats. I suppose it’s not like a van where they do try to fill up every seat.

The bus to Murree took about 7 hours including a snack stop and a stop in Rawalpindi. It was all motorway until Rawalpindi when we switched to normal roads. I smelt smoke, looked around and noticed that wiring to a ceiling light had been sparking. There was enough smoke for me to feel concerned. The driver stopped the bus and voices in my head went “Evacuate, Evacuate, Evacuate”. I ordered Marie to exit immediately as well.

My visions of the bus burning down to embers within minutes didn’t eventuate. We reboarded and the driver kept the offending light off for the rest of the journey. The last half hour was vomit-inducing but I barely contained myself. Looking at the front windscreen, all I could see were trees wooshing from left to right and vice versa as the driver did vigorous manoeuvres on the windy roads.

Accommodation crisis

As I was feeling rather ill we took a taxi to our preferred hotel; only to be hijacked by the driver to his preferred hotel for commission reasons. We were quoted some PKR24000 for two nights. Adrenalin kicked in and I was back to 100% if not more.  I suddenly had the boost to deal with this crisis.  I walked away from the rip-off hotel.

The driver took us to our preferred hotel and we found that it was full. I found a nice one next door but it was still pricey at PKR6000 a night (negotiated down from a higher price) but I lost the room in the time I checked with Marie. We had to settle on a PKR7000 room which wasn’t as nice. The typical rate was 7x that given in the guidebook (though the book mentioned that hoteliers charge whatever they like when rooms are in short supply).

This is the inconvenience that was commonly faced when travelling before the days of the internet; and it has come back because not many places are bookable online in Pakistan; phone calls to book ahead went unanswered. Murree is the playground for the people from the overheated lowlands. With the heat wave, it is the high season. Add to that the weekend and a near-midnight arrival, it was a recipe for disaster.

The main street was still buzzing as we got ready for bed at 1am. Many kids were still up! I said to Marie “I can’t believe the kids are still up!”. She replied “That’s because they don’t have to go to work at six”. I thought “Is that 6 year old or 6am?”. Probably both; life is hard for kids in many poorer countries.