Pakistan 1993

With death breathing down your neck through wild Pakistan

(Excerpt from the diary)

“Aaaahhh…”, my bloodcurdling scream rings through the wide plain of the Indus Valley. I was careless for just a moment and the camel bull has already bitten me. Tanja desperately pulls on Cockie’s lower lip with both hands, while I try to tear Cockie’s upper lip up with my right hand, roaring in pain, to free my left hand from his mouth. As the camel bull rears up as if he wants to tear my hand off, he snaps again. This is the moment when I can pull my already numb hand out of his mouth. Only from a distance do I hear the “comforting” words of my partner: “Your hand is still there, Denis!”

It was one of the worst situations I had ever experienced while traveling. Even today, my hair stands on end when I think back to this experience. It was an unforgettable expedition through a country where hospitality on the one hand and blood feuds on the other determine everyday life. We followed the meanders of the Indus River for 1,500 km through a world that until then I would only have thought possible in “One Thousand and One Nights”. When we crossed the Kohat Pass we were shot at, we were guests of the Mujahideen, who went to war in Afghanistan as freedom fighters and – much to the delight of our hosts – shot around with anti-aircraft guns. We lived with the Syeds, whose family tree goes right back to Mohammed the Prophet, were guests at a wedding and spent weeks nursing camel wounds in Peshawar, Pakistan’s largest camel market.

Pakistan 1991-1992/1993

Tanja and Denis Katzer were the first Europeans to ride through wild Pakistan on the back of their camels. A country where hospitality and blood feuds determine everyday life. Distance covered 1,500 kilometers.