Travel the Khyber Pass

Article by: Paul Clammer, October 2007

So exactly where is the Khyber Pass? Looking directly at a map, it's in the Suleiman Hills, a low mountain range spun off from the Hindu Kush. Its historical importance lies in the dividing line the mountains draw between the Indian subcontinent and the beginning of Central Asia in the wild lands of Afghanistan. The frontier city of Peshawar sits near the foot of the pass, guarding a trade and invasion route that's seen everyone pass through, from ancient Greek armies and Buddhist emperors to the founder of the Mughal dynasty and the redcoats of the British Raj.

the road passes through Peshawar's Smugglers' Bazaar, where everything is on offer, from duty-free refrigerators to opium paste

Arranging a trip up the Khyber is almost as much of an adventure as the pass itself. The road to the Afghan border passes through Pakistan's notorious Tribal Areas. The government's writ runs lightly here, and just one step off the main highway strips you of the protection of the law and places you under the strictures of Pashtunwali, the strict tribal code of the local Pashtuns. Here, a man's honour is the most important thing he can hold and personal slights can escalate into tribal feuds lasting generations, which explains why the average village here look like a collection of small forts.

For the visitor, tribal law adds a certain frisson to the trip. There isn't any real risk for the sensible tourist, but it's something the local authorities seem to play up. Any Khyber trip starts at the office of the Home and Tribal Affairs Dept and you should be armed with a sheaf of passport photocopies to get the permit required to travel to the border. Armed seems the appropriate term, as the permit comes complete with a gunman from the Khyber Rifles who accompanies all foreigners. With his black and khaki shalwar kameez uniform and obligatory five o'clock shadow, he takes the passenger seat, relegating you to the back of the car, casually slinging his Kalashnikov so the barrel points straight towards you. Make sure he has the safety catch on before you drive off.

Leaving the city, the road passes through Peshawar's Smugglers' Bazaar, where everything is on offer, from duty-free refrigerators to opium paste. A sign on the highway warns that foreigners cannot travel any further without the requisite permits. Tribal territory beckons.

he takes the passenger seat, relegating you to the back of the car, casually slinging his kalashnikov so the barrel points straight towards you

As the Peshawar Valley drops away, the road snakes up into the dun hills. It remains an important trade route, and the majority of the vehicles on the road are huge, overloaded, brightly painted, Pakistani trucks. The trucks are a source of great pride for their drivers, covered with a surfeit of mirrors and jingling chains hanging from the fender. They crawl up to the pass in great convoys, and would hold up the rest of the traffic for hours were it not for Pakistani taxi drivers' great love of overtaking on blind corners.

The pass is nearly 30km (19mi) long but it feels a lot longer, as the road bends and twists impossibly. The mountains close in, but they're low and broken rather than imposing, although they still manage to squeeze the highway between walls narrow enough to make an adventure. Their toughness is apparent when you realise the road is running parallel to a railway track. More than 30 tunnels and nearly a hundred bridges make up this impossible British venture, designed to ferry troops to the border. Even with a plethora of switchbacks and reversing stations, two locomotives are needed to push and pull the train to its destination (which it still does, as monthly tourist special).

The ruins of the Khyber Pass' history are littered everywhere. Old forts at Jamrud and Chagai were built by the British to protect the borders of their empire. Regimental plaques are set into the hills by the roadside to commemorate the men who served here, a tradition carried on by their Pakistani successors. Near the village of Sphola are the remains of an even more ancient empire - a Buddhist stupa left behind by the Kushan empire 1500 years ago. For centuries this region was a centre of both Buddhist power and pilgrimage. The Kushan's Gandharan art is one of the great highpoints of Asian creativity; it fuses the artistic traditions of Greece, Persia and India to create sculptures of incredible delicacy showing the life of the Buddha.

But as the road passes through Landi Kotal, evidence of an uglier side of modern culture appears - a huge, walled compound the size of a village, once home to Ayub Afridi, Pakistan's most notorious drug smuggler. With the government kept off tribal roads, the region remains a haven for smuggling.

For tourists, the Khyber Pass ends at Michni checkpoint. It's the highest point of the pass, offering a sweeping view down towards the dusty border town of Torkham and into Afghanistan. Posing for photos with your armed guard is pretty much obligatory at this point, along with batting away the kids who cheekily try to sell you Afghan money at five times the market rate.

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