What makes the Karakoram Highway, or KKH as it known by the locals, different is that it is both considerably longer, at 1320 kilometres (810 miles) and higher. It is the highest highway in the world, reaching a breathless 4693 metres (15,937 feet) above sea level at its highest point in the Khunjerab Pass,

Tracing the ancient caravan trail of the Silk Road the KKH winds it way north from Islamabad to the ancient Chinese city of Kashgar. Work began in 1959 and was only completed twenty years later, and has cost the lives of over 1,000 workers from both Pakistan and China due to the majority of the road being cut out of the sides of mountains, which are then prone to landslides due to their location at the meeting points of the Eurasian and Indo-Australian tectonic plates.

The border is also closed for six months during winter (approximately November 1^st to April 30^th, but in reality as soon as snow blocks the road, and when it is eventually able to be cleared the following year), weekends, public holidays, and when the countries at one or the other end decide to close it for no apparent reason.

With frequent delays due to bridges being washed away, by the road being blocked by mountain rocks, or just by unexplained border closures, it is not for those who need to travel and be in Kashgar on a definite date. I had built in quite a bit of flexibility in my travel plans, and it was lucky I did as it took much me longer than planned, and I ended up cutting it rather fine by departing Pakistan on the very last day of my visa.

I started my journey in the capital, Islamabad. A planned city with more than a passing resemblance to Canberra in Australia, wide roads, green spaces and most unlike my preconceptions of Pakistan. Heading to Rawalpindi, which is growing into the capital I hired a car, a Toyota Corolla, and driver, Sadiq, a lovely dhal loving local with absolutely no English. A Bus could have been an option, but at US$50 a day, the opportunity to go at my own pace, and stop and take photos where I wanted was irresistible. 

The three lane highway was fast, although as it descended into a chaotic five lanes with the emergency lane, and any gaps, being filled by the collection of cars, bikes, tractors, trucks and buses, all competing for position as if in a Grand Prix race.

Driving through the spectacular Hunza Valley

After Abbottabad, a city made famous by the capture of Osama Bin Laden, and full of military garrisons, the road shrank to one lane each way, and as we climbed into the mountains near Nanga Parbat, we came across sections washed away in floods, or blocked by rockfalls. Patience is a huge requirement, we stopped for three hours near Chilas while waiting for a mixture of army and road crews to remove debris from the road.

Not surprisingly many sections of the Highway are closed after 16:30. You need your wits about you at the best of times on the KKR, let alone at night. There are often no barriers to prevent you hurtling hundreds of metres to your death if you misjudge one of the many curves through the mountains, or swerve to avoid the many cattle that like to graze on the sides, or often, just contemplate a short life, in the middle of the road. 

The Pakistani authorities take your personal security seriously, and you will be likely to pick up an armed ranger to accompany you on sections of the road. I had a rather lovely cricket obsessed ranger, Javed, who questioned me on the cricket grounds of England, with a particular affinity to Taunton in Somerset, and who was very sad to say goodbye when we reached the next checkpoint.