It was too late to cancel our stay in Gahkuch when we learnt that the wedding we were supposed to attend had been postponed. So there I was, with my travelling companions, in the small busy town in remote Gilgit-Baltistan, the northernmost territory of Pakistan. Rugged mountains rose all around and the broad Gilgit River, milky-grey from fine silt, glistened nearby. The air was cool and thin, the light was bright and clear at 2,000m above sea level.
It is only the intrepid traveller who finds himself drawn to Pakistan. But fortune, as they say, favours the brave, as anyone who journeys to the Land of the Pure will discover.
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