Gilgit to Besham

The following morning we continued back down to Besham, stopping for lunch at Chilas.  That evening virtually everyone sat out in the garden next to the river and had tea.  A memorable and enjoyable evening.

Afterwards I couldn’t resist going down and dipping my hands and throwing a few stones into the Indus.  The river is very silty.  The silt being composed of what looks like v. small flakes of mica, and as they tumble in the water give it a pearly appearance.  It feels quite ‘soft’ to the touch, presumably also because of the silt in it.

The rubble-like Himalayas and the silty Indus

My Father and Myself next to the Indus at Besham

As I stood there two local boys in their mid-teens came up and started up a conversation.  It was typical of the friendliness, however I feel quite churlish now that I assumed they wanted to sell me something, when all  they wanted to do was be friendly and practice their English.

Many people (young and old) speak English to some degree, even in the remotest places.  Pop spoke to an old man who was digging his small plot of land out in the middle of nowhere.  He had very passable English and said that he had learnt it by just talking to tourists who happen to infrequently pass by.