We arrived late in the afternoon at Rama, a most picturesque site perched on top of a steeply vegetated mountain road.

Unlike a lot of northern Pakistan, the Rama Valley is lushly forested with huge Himalayan Pines, Spruce, Cedar and Juniper trees. There are wonderful views of the surrounding forests and the high peaks of the distant snow capped mountains. The valley is at an altitude of 3,300 meters and is apparently snow covered for 7-8 months of the year. And despite it being mid summer, it was extremely cold.

Rama is famous for trekking and also beautiful Lake Rama, which unfortunately we did not trek to because Alan was suffering from a badly bruised foot.

Apparently, we were very lucky to find accommodation at Rama. Due to our cancelled flight to Skardu, causing major changes to our journey, our booking was made at the last minute. Furthermore, there was an unusually large number of people staying at the hotel, including Chinese and Japanese scientific delegations.

The Government owned PTDC (Pakistan Tourist Development Corporation) Hotel, like most PTDC buildings was very tasteful in design and attractively set amongst parkland surrounds. It's the inside however that is often disappointing with the usual problems of a very basic interior, no facilities, nothing working, electrical power points falling out of walls and badly stained carpets. And that is to say nothing of the extensive power outages which of course meant no heating and no lights for most of our stay. And even if there were television and coffee making facilities there was no power anyway. And it was freezing cold, even in the dining room. There was a general viewing television near the dining room but it was always consumed by equally bored children and anyway, it was cartoons - all in Urdu.  

We awoke to pouring rain the next morning, with no electricity, dark and freezing cold in our room. It is most probably the reason that I have no written records of this day as I could not see to write but our memory of being cold, bored and miserable is still very clear in our minds. We organised with Sadruddin that we would go for a walk in the afternoon, when hopefully the weather would clear. 

The morning seemed to be years as we sat miserably in our dark cold room, with all our heaviest clothing on to keep warm. I tried to keep myself amused by trying out some features of my new camera and taking automatic shots of myself. I was trying my hardest to look happy and bright eyed but as you can see from the photo, I look rather stupid. Alan was understandably in the blackest mood, bored mindless, cold and suffering from his sore foot. It was not a happy day.

Thankfully, after lunch the weather did clear slightly and our driver Khaja was kind enough to drive us as far as his 4WD would take us on the track to Rama Lake. 

We had met Khaja on our previous visit to Pakistan and had always found him an excellent and capable driver. But he was quite a loner, very reserved and quite distant with us. On that cold day at Rama, I went for a very damp walk the late morning and remember well him sitting outside in the rain on his own, squatting and covered with blankets, just staring out into the distant glorious mountains. He looked very content with his own company and waved politely as I walked past. I mused that having eleven children, he must not always be quite such a loner! Sadruddin with his wicked sense of humour would always remind him about his large family and Khaja would just smile quietly.

Later in our trip Khaja began to warm to us and would do some very thoughtful acts such as (unasked) obligingly stop for me to take photos of flowering barley crops (which I'm sure he must have thought I was mad in finding interesting), or opening doors for us which although unnecessary, we understood was his way of showing his friendship.  

No wonder he was held in such high esteem by Ishaq Ali and Sadruddin. Khaja was a great asset to the company. He was totally reliable and a very capable driver on the ever treacherous roads of Pakistan. Sadruddin had told us that he would often take vehicles through places which other drivers refused as they were considered too dangerous. But Khaja's most amazing asset was that he could fix any problems with cars - or indeed with anything mechanical. Several times on our trip we would see him almost fully immersed under the bonnet of our vehicle or someone else's - always successfully dealing with the problem. 

That afternoon, Khaja's vehicle didn't get very far before we came across a giant glacier, totally blocking the route to the lake. Even the fearless Khaja gave it a miss. I must say that I was becoming rather disappointed with glaciers. I had always imagined them as being pristine white lava like flows, moving slowly but determinedly down gorgeous mountain sides. In fact they were almost always a dirty looking mess of ice, full of moraine and other debris picked up as gravity forces moved them inevitably to their lower destiny. Roads were frequently blocked by glaciers providing road workers with endless hard physical labour in chopping through them to allow road access.

After we stopped at the glacier we walked for an hour or so before poor Alan's foot could not stand the sharp stony track any longer. The walk was interesting though, with the toughest alpine plants you could imagine growing and flowering happily in low clumps amongst the icy soil. In the valleys were several groups of nomads, with their lean-to huts and numerous sheep and goats. They were friendly and welcoming but we could not help but think just how cold and miserable it must have been for them - and this was the height of the summer season! Small tufts of smoke emerging from the huts revealed the log fires which kept them alive even in summer. The gregarious Sadruddin befriended one of the nomads, insisting that I take a photo of them.

The day ended well, but again we had no power and dinner was a freezing affair. Thankfully, the food was very good. There certainly was not much to do after dinner. Lying in our cold bed we heard bleating outside our hotel door. We found three lovely goats curled up asleep at the doorway. Well, they actually weren't asleep as, as soon as I opened the door they were all in our room and very soon in our bed. Trying to remove them was a nightmare with one of the bucks giving me a good head butt before I managed to push him outside. The next morning, to our amusement, our carpet was covered with peas of goat poo. Well, it didn't really detract from the original filthy flooring.

Rama, was undoubtedly a pretty and picturesque place. If we had just had some power and some basic facilities, our memories of Rama would have been very pleasant indeed. This is just one - but very important issue - that has such a deliterious effect on Pakistan's tourism reputation. 

As our journey progressed, even devotees of Pakistan like us became increasingly frustrated.