Last summer the BBC dubbed my favourite subcontinental City ‘The front line on the “War on Terror”’ and the UK Government advised against travelling there. The city of flowers, the Guardian of the Khyber Pass, Peshawar is certainly going through some tough times but is as beguiling as ever. It doesn’t have a Taj Mahal, an Eiffel Tower or a Sphinx but what it does have is atmosphere and it has it in spades. Here are my views on the best of Peshawar travel.
Tourists (2nd,4th and 5th from left) and Peshawaris pose together for a photo.
The People
Maybe it is the beards, maybe it is that everyone is dressed in the local Shalwar Kameez (baggy pants and shirt), maybe it is the fact you can walk the streets all day and not see a woman. Even at first glance Peshawar travel is different from the other big cities of Pakistan. Scratch that surface and you are welcomed into the world of the Pashtuns, the legendary libertarian, tribal society that straddles the Afghan/Pakistan border and has been a thorn in the side of empires for Millennium. If you spend time here you will be told that Alexander the Great commented when he campaigned here that “How can I win when I am only one Alexander the Great, here everyone is Alexander the Great.” As with much of Pashtun lore the facts never get in the way of a good story but it explains a little about the mentality of the people that live on the Frontier. Pashtuns live by the laws of Pakhtoonwala, a set of rules about nang, honour and badal, defending that honour. In the tribal areas surrounding Peshawar these are the only laws that apply as the remit of the Pakistani government does not stretch to those areas. The aspect of Pashtoonwala that is most apparent to the visitor is that of Melmastia, hospitality and protection of guests. A walk through the old city of Peshawar is hard to make without at least one invitation for a cup of tea with a trader.
Gem traders of Peshawar
What to do?
The Old City is the place to start. A morning visiting the Tea Shops and crumbling Caravanserai’s give a glimpse into this cities position as a Silk Road outpost. The buildings, now falling into disrepair, are unchanged from the days when traders would come and tie up their camels after weeks on the Afghan passes or the Indian plains. They would head to the tea shops of Qissa Qawani and exchange tales and information with other traders which is why Qissa Qawani means Storyteller Street in Pashtu. The tea shops still have dormitories where travellers can bed down for the night although Pakistani law dictates that foreigners must stay in slightly more salubrious surroundings these days.
Each street in the Old City has its specialities. The dried fruit and nuts of Pipal Mandi and the waistcoats and pancake hats of the Chitrali bazaar are my favourite. A quick chat with the owners often reveal that the tiny shops have been in families for years if not generations. On one visit to the printing bazaar it felt like time stood still as a man printed religious leaflets with a hand printer that looked like it had been designed by Gutenberg until I looked in the back room. 3 men working on macs brought me back to the 21st Century.
One lump or two?
Truck Painting is a uniquely Pakistani pursuit. Maybe it is the lack of colour in the Shalwar Kameez but when it comes to decorating freight no-one beats the Pakistanis and the truck yards of Peshawar are some of the best. “Why would anyone want their goods transported in a dull truck” is the justification, said without any hint of irony, for these kitsch, mobile shrines cum discos. Old Bedford or new Toyota chassis’ are smuggled in tax free from Afghanistan, then the truck bodies are hand made, some with hand carved wooden doors and then finished with paint, bells, reflective stickers, quotes from the Koran and images ranging from F16 Jets to Benazir Bhutto. Bam Bam Afridi to the Kaba’a in Mecca. This is one-of-a-kind sightseeing, Peshawar travel style.
“What would you like on your truck sir?”
“My son in a superman outfit and a sheep please”
However, part of the allure of Peshawar is that it is a frontier town and one of its strangest attractions lies in the Western suburbs. Just at the moment Pakistani law runs out and tribal law begins is Kharkhani Bazaar. Known fondly as the smugglers bazaar. At first looks it is just a normal, very bland, concrete bazaar. The electronics, white goods, foodstuffs and clothing all look harmless enough but it has all been imported from Afghanistan illegally and tax free. A closer look and it appears that the biscuits in the food shop were made by the world food program and some of that army surplus gear has been lifted from the US and British military. At the back of the bazaar are guarded gates, beyond the gates are compounds in the tribal areas where the goods for sale become even more illicit and include guns, narcotics and forged money.
Where to Eat?
Vegetarians beware. Peshawar is not a place for those without a taste for our four legged friends. Namak Mandi (The Salt Market) is the place for those with a taste for flesh. Jewellery shops vie for space with restaurants where fat tailed sheep hang from hooks. Meat is ordered by the kilo, either as kebabs over hot coals or cooked Karahi, in a skillet (the Karahi) with a masala of tomatoes with fresh herbs and spices. Mopped up with foot long Afghani naan breads and Qawa, sweet green tea with cardoman.
As well as the usual sub continental snacks of samosas and pakoras, Peshawar is famous for Chapli kebab. Chapli means shoe in Pashtu and although this flat, greasy lamb burger tastes better than boot leather the taste of strong mutton is not for everyone.
For those looking for a meal in a more upmarket setting the Habibis on Kabuli Street has a roof top restaurant and excellent Peshawari cuisine.
1 kilo or 2?
Where to stay?
“Do you have a generator?” is something you may learn to ask early in Pakistan in the summer. Power is a rare premium in Pakistan and during the summer the big cities spread the power around so each district gets 3 hours on and one off. Waking up soaked in sweat with the ceiling fan still slowing to a stop is a feeling that is hard to get used to.
At the top end we have the Khan Club, an old Havali converted in the 90′s by a French Architect into possibly the only boutique Hotel in Peshawar.
Further down the scale but very comfortable is Greens Hotel. Numerous journalists stayed here whilst reporting on the Russian occupation of Afghanistan in the 1980′s. Almost all of them gave Greens unfavourable reviews. The intercontinental it may not be but for those dreaming of life as a foreign correspondent then the chance to stay in the same room as Christina Lamb or Robert Fisk should not be missed.
The Rose Hotel is this scribes favourite. Cheap, cheerful with cable TV and AC in some rooms. The location is on the edge of the old city and just a bloated stroll from Namak Mandi.
But hey, isn’t it incredibly dangerous????
Peshawar travel is bearing some of the brunt of the backlash to Pakistan’s efforts to curb lawlessness in the tribal areas and bomb attacks on political and military targets do occur but this risk must be combined with Pakistan’s fairly low level of violent crime. The murder and assault rate in tourist cities such as Cape Town, New Orleans or Rio de Janeiro suggests that there is a greater danger visiting these cities than Peshawar. What surprises most visitors is how such a friendly and welcoming place can really be the same city on news reports around the world.
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