Saturday, August 24, 2024 Tourism surges as the ‘Yosemite of Pakistan’ offers captivating, crowd-free adventures, drawing trekkers to its stunning landscapes and hidden gems. The ‘Yosemite of Pakistan’ attracts just 1 percent of the trekkers who flock to Nepal’s peaks – yet the experience is even more captivating. A hollow thwack echoes as a tennis ball connects with a cricket bat, soaring into a grassy clearing beyond our colorful tents.
A surreal scene unfolds as porters and trekkers scramble to retrieve the ball in our camp, nestled between towering rock formations. After flying to Skardu in Pakistan’s Gilgit-Baltistan region, we made our way to the village of Kanday. Situated at 3,000 meters above sea level, it served as our gateway to the Nangma Valley, often called the “Yosemite of Pakistan” – minus the crowds.
Our trek began by crossing swift snowmelt streams, navigating around ancient boulders, and traversing vibrant fields of young wheat and potatoes lined with poplars. As we left the terraces behind, the trail led us into the valley’s steep V-shaped entrance, where the towering rock seemed to envelop us. As night fell, we stored the cricket bat and gathered in the orange canvas mess tent under a star-studded navy sky.
Cozy inside, we enjoyed a dinner of noodle soup, dahl, and fresh bread while reflecting on the day’s 6.5km trek. Over herbal tea, our serene chief guide, Muneer Alam, delivered the nightly briefing: the next day’s route would cover 3.
5km with a 400-meter ascent, with an optional 8km extension to Amin Brakk Base Camp and back, climbing an additional 500 meters. The evening ended with singing and dancing led by our porters around a crackling fire fueled by cow dung – wood is too scarce to burn here. While Nepal attracts about two million trekkers annually, fewer than 20,000 venture to Pakistan for adventure tourism.
Considering Pakistan is home to three of the world’s great mountain ranges – the Himalayas, Karakoram, and Hindu Kush – including K2, the second-highest peak, and five of the 14 “eight-thousanders” (peaks over 8,000 meters), one has to wonder why. A mix of misconceptions, safety concerns, negative media coverage, and the lack of an active tourism authority often keeps Pakistan off travelers’ radar. However, this might change.
Visa fees have recently been scrapped for arrivals from 126 countries, including the UK. Pakistan saw a 115 percent increase in foreign tourism last year, and easier visa applications could help attract even more visitors. The longer I stay, the more Pakistan reveals its charm; everyone I encounter is warm, the history is fascinating, and the landscapes are breathtaking.
At 5am, we rise to the chill of a valley still shadowed from the low sun. After devouring hearty breakfasts of porridge, omelette, peanut butter-slathered toast, and coffee, we march across a flat grassy plain that leads to our next ascent. The path winds through shrubs, rocky yet still green, pulling us deeper into the valley.
I find a steady rhythm, chatting with my companions as one foot follows the other along the dusty track. The climb is gradual, and after three hours, we reach a plateau, surrounded by towering peaks. As a novice trekker, I’m in awe, but seeing seasoned adventurers, who have tackled Everest Base Camp and Kilimanjaro, rendered speechless tells me all I need to know.
Australian trekker Mark Daffey remarks, “It’s unreal; usually the mountains are in front of you like a wall, but here, they’re all around us.” He’s right; we’re tiny specks at the base of these 6,000-meter-high, snow-dusted giants, with the path we’ve traversed our only way out. Ahead, our camp comes into view, with colorful tents standing out against the icy river, rugged terrain, tumbling glaciers, and bare rock faces at the end of Nangma Valley.
No one is more passionate about Pakistan’s untapped potential than Umer. Opening these valleys to international adventurers presents a significant opportunity, but he is cautious: “We have to learn from the West what not to do. Landscape sustainability is easy; community sustainability is hard.
The villages we work with must benefit, but the biggest challenge is to avoid greed.” The next morning, we prepare to leave the valley that once felt foreign but now feels strangely familiar. Cattle wander among our tents, grazing on the thin grass beneath a vast blue sky, and a sense of calm washes over me.
Free from phone signals and daily stresses, part of me wants to stay. Within six hours, we descend back into Kanday, filled with appreciation for the people and places we’ve encountered. As we depart, I cast a fond glance down the valley, the memory of constellations framed by jagged peaks lingering in my mind – an experience that any adventure seeker should witness in this stunning country.
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