|Quetta was abit of a shock to the system, compared to Iranian cities Quetta was dirty, smelly and highly polluted, most of the pollution seems to come from the very smokey two stoke Tut Tut's and motorcycles, ( Greenpeace could get out of their fully carpeted ivory towers and do the world some good for change by starting a campaign to rid the third world of unclean two strokes !! ) .
We made use of our time in Quetta to recover from three hard days riding from Bam across the Balucistan desert, before leaving Bam we had been told that the road to Quetta had been improved and that most of it was new, this turned out to be totally incorrect, the road was ok in places and diabolical in others, there was a long stretch with was being renewed but it will be many years before that is finished as they first have to cover the road with hardcore, this involves many men sitting in the desert with hammers breaking big rocks into little rocks !. We left Quetta and headed for D G Kahn and again the roads conspired against us as we found the road to Lorali to be a mixture of tarmac, dirt and loose rock, It took us allday to cover the two hundred kilometres from Quetta, ( lonely planet recommended safe and fastest route ) , once we had settled into our hotel for the night and had showered ( bucket of water tipped over your head ) the local Police chief arrived and insisted that we have an armed gaurd for the duration of our stay and that we should not leave the hotel, this seem to us to be a little excesive but we were later told that a British tourisht had recently been removed from his hotel room and shot, so maybe it was a good thing
|The map says this is a Highway !!!|
|We've made It we are now back onto good road !!!!|
|Jenny and Adrian with our armed guard .
When you get a camera out the locals all want to be in the picture
|These two are fighting over having their picture taken|
|We left Lorali and continued to head for D G Kahn, but the road was still bad so we decided to stop at Fort Munro, we had covered about two hundred kilomrtre's in about seven hours, bloody hard and slow going.
Fort Munro is a old hill station from the days of British Rule, and was cool and pleasant, though everybody here seemed to be carrying a gun we never felt threatened at anytime, in fact the people were friendly and seemed happy to see us.
|Maarten, Jenny and Cliff trying to get through a town on route to Fort Munro|