The next day we managed to get over the Pakistani border, out what an exciting day that was. I sensed that events were beginning to go wrong as we were driving downhill via "the Khyber Pass, a rumour began to circulate about the apparent failure of the brakes. Whether this tale was the truth or not, I never did discover, but one thing was certain, we drove at an extreme pace through the pass. Perhaps this was just as well, for hidden deep within the pass, there were numerous marksmen taking pot shots at the vehicles and even at our fantastic speed, some of these shots were successful.
By the time we reached the border post, the appearance of the buses resembled that of two ancient, beaten, colanders. Further problems were to arise at the Pakistan side of the border. The border officials became elated when they realised there were many faults or possible misdemeanors among our entry papers and of course this meant considerable supplementary income in the form of bribes. We had now grown accustomed to these practices. Personally I had to undergo quite a strain, as a so-called doctor, in what might have been at one time, white coat, motioned to me and then to one of the drivers, that I had had only one of the two required cholera jabs, therefore I could not possibly" enter Pakistan. Heated arguments began, but we were helplessly at his mercy. Eventually we struck up a reasonable bargain, then we followed him into his private tent way out back, where he pocketed the money and stamped our papers. The details took a little longer than they should have, as the officials delaying tactics meant he could expect more cash. These events took place in the pitch dark, which was possibly planned by the officials well in advance. After these proceedings were completed, we made our way into a small town just over the boundary and once more our eyes were to open wide in disbelief.
Many of the little local shops had decided to stretch their opening hours in order to secure our custom, no doubt they had been notified of our presence by the border guards, who would get their share of the profits. They probably added that we were easy meat. One of the shops astonished me by procuring both instruments of peace and war, with equal enthusiasm. This proprietor offered for sale drugs such as hashish or opium as well as firearms. Both these products seemed to be Pakistan's biggest exports to the west. One was aware of whole factories manufacturing firearms and I have since learned that many of these weapons would be exported all over the world wherever there was a market for them, no matter what the buyer's politics were.
It was a pity that we raced through Pakistan on our way to India, as our limited experiences of that country were very positive and the inhabitants were open and friendly. Peshawar was only a quick shopping stop for me, where I paid an outrageous price for a Mars Bar in a western-style supermarket, ( 50 P.) Peshawar was remarkably modern. Lahore was just a blur as we flashed past, without even stopping as the drivers were in a great hurry and going at full pelt, doing without sleep and driving all through the night.
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