It took us the afternoon that we arrived at The Serena Hotel to email friends and family to let them know we were OK, we had half-jokingly emailed a friend before we entered Pakistan and asked him to start looking for us if we didn’t email in 3 days. We were on day 4. Sure enough Michael had started to plan our missing persons report as directed, despite the complications that would involve. Michael was relieved to hear of our safe arrival in Quetta but taken aback by the news Peggy had split an Axle.

Our emotions had hit a crescendo and I could rattle off the constant feeling of fear, shock, trauma and general dismay at our situation but to save myself having to relive it all and you having to read all about it I will simply bullet point the next three weeks.

• Peggy arrived late that first night; I went out alone to receive it as Lisa just couldn’t face it. The tow truck was not a tow truck at all; it was a truck with a fitted crane. The camper van had been dragged onto it backwards the front half of the van hung precariously off the back of the flat bed. It was clear to see that because the entire weight of the van had been balanced for the 4 hour drive on the bumpy road on its drive shaft, the whole body had bent like a shatter proof plastic ruler. Apparently the task had been more difficult than anticipated and despite the clearly visible damage to Peggy, the driver had the audacity to ask for more money than originally quoted. With fire in my eyes I agreed to pay him more money if I could smash his van up with a hammer and make it even. He chose to leave petulantly.
• The following morning the special branch police arrived at the hotel, they asked us where the German couple had gone as since we parted ways they had disappeared into thin air. We had no idea. The police then placed us under informal house arrest and told us we could not leave the hotel without armed guards. This was for our safety, and not, we were told, “because we were suspected of disappearing the Germans”.
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• We contacted a local mechanic with the help of the hotel and within minutes two men arrived on a motorcycle with a tool box between them. They assessed the damage, assuring us they could repair it no problem. Three days passed before we got the news we would have to order parts from America. Although we paid for a 3 days expedited service the parts would take 10 days to arrive.
• We celebrated Lisa’s birthday with the only alcohol available which was the same overpriced beer we experienced on our road trip through the desert. In an attempt to get a little tipsy we drank 4 cans each in 30 minutes. It yielded little result.
• We met a lovely lady from the UN whose name was Christine. Christine was interested in our trip through Baluchistan. The UN are not allowed to visit that area under any circumstance as it is too dangerous.
• Whist waiting for Peggy’s parts to arrive from the USA we flew to Karachi and had a traditional Pakistani wedding. That’s another epic story…coming up of course!
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• Once the parts arrived the customs office tried to charge $250US in import tax despite the fact the parts cost only $200US. Over 2 days and through much debate, argument, ice cream and tea colored sugar water we finally settled on paying $100 tax.
• As the parts where fitted we took over 10 trips to the local government offices in order to extend our visa’s…all with armed escorts.
• We ate curry for every meal the entire time we were at the Hotel.
• The parts where fitted and by some miracle we took a short test drive, packed the van up and arranged to set off again under further armed guard some 3 weeks after we had arrived.

It was probably the strangest three weeks of our lives. We remained primarily inside the hotel compound, luckily it had a garden. Like Rapunzel trapped inside an ivory tower we watched and listened to all the life going on outside those four walls. We felt safe surrounded by 24 hour security, armed with automatic weapons and even a sniper located on the roof. But despite the serenity of the hotel, the cherry trees, water fountains and wandering tortoises, there was somehow an underlying threat. When we hung out in the hotel lobby we felt watched, it could have been the special branch, it could have been the fact we were two young western travelers apparently just hanging out in Quetta for a long time or, it could have been a group looking to snatch us up for ransom. Strangely none of those scenarios felt better than the other.

Considering we were eating curry for breakfast lunch and dinner our bodies dealt with it as best as they could. Lisa’s sensitive stomach resulted in her loosing around 7kg. My iron like constitution resulted in me putting on 12kg.

We talked constantly with the hotel staff and I feel became good friends with a number of them, I even became close to the post office master, it was interesting and a pleasure to get a better understanding of the Muslim culture, what it means to the people in Quetta and the respect they have for each other. The things we learned have nothing to do with the way that Muslims are depicted in the Western Media and it is a real shame that most people in the west have a distorted view of the Middle East. I am not going to share much of what we learned here as I believe it is something you have to experience first-hand. If you don’t want to or are too scared to visit that part of the world then you are destined to live your life that little bit more ignorant than those who do.

I would however, like to share what we learned of Insha’Allah – “God willing”. Whist in Pakistan we heard this term more than regularly. It appeared to be the word of choice spattered in virtually every conversation.

Being brought up in the west the saying could be looked upon as whimsical, possibly verging on silly. To believe that no matter what you do your fate is already written. Possibly it is a coping mechanism for dealing with poverty and persecution, presuming the user is in that situation. Maybe it is just paying respect to Allah or could even be a mind wash that creates a constant social reminder that God is all powerful.

No matter how you analyze it, chop it up or pull it to pieces. It still remains, what will be, will be. You can only do your best in your current situation. If your wheel drops off because you didn’t make time to get the bearings changed and you end up spending 3 weeks getting a rare opportunity to understand a culture you previously misunderstood. Insha’Allah.