"Durand Line" Balochistan by jorgejuansanchez
Balochistan Travel Guide: 40 reviews and 141 photos
After almost one year travelling in India, Afghanistan, Sri Lanka, Tibet, Nepal, Bangladesh, I felt the time had come to go back home to see my parents.
I was in Islamabad, trying to obtain, in vain, a transit visa in the Iranian Embassy to cross Iran in my way back overland to Spain.
Realizing that it was impossible, I planned to try again in the Iranian Embassy in Kabul. Since through the Khyber Pass I could not cross because the war was going on in Jalalabad, I decided to get to Kabul through Kandahar.
Consequently I bought a train ticket to Quetta, in Baluchistan. From there it would be possible to reach Kabul avoiding the war in Jalalabad. Furthermore, I was informed that in the border between Baluchistan and Afghanistan there was no control and nobody would request me an Afghan visa.
I would try, I thought. I have nothing to lose. Besides, I had no much money. If the Iranian visa was granted, I could very cheaply find my way to Turkey, and from there it would be easy to hitchhike until my country, Spain.
The train schedule was: Rawalpindi ? Lahore ? Multan ? Quetta.
The train journey was fantastic. I crossed the Indo River and stopped in historical towns, such as Multan, the city of the Sufis.
Once in Quetta, capital of Balochistan, I got lodgment in the roof of a caravanserai, because it was very hot in the rooms. There I made friendship with four Afghan mujahidins that the next day would go with their land rover to the border with Afghanistan, to Chaman.
They advised me to buy Balochistan clothes to get, without any problem, to Kabul, without looking like a European.
Following their recommendation the next day in the morning I bought in a souk a Balochistan suit, including a wide trouser and a jacket with long sleeves, plus a turban, spending almost all my remaining money. Then, disguised as a Balochi we left to the border, to Chaman, where we arrived some minutes later. Then we entered in a chaikhana to celebrate it, drinking tea and eating some sweets without coercion, and then we separated.
The first village in the Afghan side was Spin Boldak. I had no visa but observed that in the border there was no control, I did not even see any Afghan soldier, so I went ahead disguised as a Balochi. During two weeks I had not shaved my beard.
Everybody carried weapons in Chaman, even women. But I was not afraid.
I walked slowly but with determination, I crossed the famous Durand Line and finally I had Spin Boldak at sight. I had entered the province of Kandahar, in Afghanistan.
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