Elusive Kondus
BorisG on - 6 minThe Backstory
A while ago I read a blog post about Kondus Valley in eastern Gilgit-Baltistan. This valley is close to the border with China and India. The contested Siachen Glacier is also only about away, so I was aware that Kondus was a sensitive area. I can’t find this blog post anymore, unfortunately, but it talked about the beauty of the mountains, the friendliness of its inhabitants, and its sheer remoteness. It sounded like a paradise for hikers and mountaineers, so naturally this piqued my interest and I started looking into going there.
Very quickly, though, I ran into some issues. A lot has happened in Pakistan in 2025 in regard to foreigners visiting its border areas. Some areas, like Shimshal, do not require permits anymore and others have done away with the requirement to have a guide. Unfortunately, it’s very hard to find reliable information as to what exactly has changed in which area, so I was more or less left with local knowledge.
In Skardu, a couple weeks back, I made some enquiries and almost everyone told me that a permit was still required for Kondus. I then decided to head to Khaplu as it’s one of my favorite villages in the north. It’s also the last stop before Kondus. One morning, while I had breakfast, a group of Pakistani men asked to join my table. We got to talking and it turns out that one of the guys, Hatam, was a local mountain guide. At some point I mentioned Kondus and he told me that it’s open for foreigners now and that no permit is required anymore. He even contacted the police checkpoint for me to confirm. Apparently, all I needed to do was register my passport and visa.
The Trip
A few days later, I packed my bags, and headed to the bus station, where an old Landcruiser from the 60s would depart for Kondus. The driver, who had been quite enthusiastic the day before about transporting a foreigner, was now a bit reserved, kept mentioning permits and did look a bit worried. I showed him the WhatsApp messages I’d received from Hatam and with the help of another passenger, who spoke some English, I eventually convinced him to let me board.
At first, it all went smoothly. We drove through Saling, Haldi, Thagas and eventually arrived in Damsam, where we stopped at the army checkpost. An officer greeted me halfway to the car.
“Hello, how many?”, he asked, looking at his clipboard.
“Just me”, I replied, handing him my passport.
He looked up, then behind me, a bit of a confused look on his face.
“Guide, security?”, he asked eventually.
“No guide, I’m good on my own!”, I answered, “And why would I need security, sir?”
“Dangerous”, he pointed further up the road towards Kondus.
“Dangerous how?”, I asked with a smile, that I hoped was at least somewhat charming, “China is friendly and nobody lives near Siachen!”
“Yes, China friendly and India a bit far, but is border area. Pakistani government need security for tourists”, he answered.
That was the moment I realized that I probably wouldn’t be going any further that day. By now the sun was setting and it started to get cold. A soldier brought some chairs, then fetched an empty oil drum and started building a fire in it with the cheeky little help of some gasoline.
When the officer sent the Landcruiser on its way some fifteen minutes later, it finally became obvious that Damsam was the end of the line for me. He then started making a few phone calls. Eventually, maybe half an hour later, he came over to the fire.
“Ok, you stay here today! Tomorrow we have special car. You go Kondus, look, after back to Khaplu.”, he explained with a smile, seeming quite content that he had found a solution to my predicament.
“I appreciate that! Does that mean I can wander around on my own or do I always have to have someone with me?”, I asked.
“Yes. Driver is guide and security“, he said.
This went back and forth a bit, but eventually I figured out that I couldn’t actually stay overnight anywhere past the checkpoint, couldn’t really go hiking and was required to always stay with my driver. I could, however, make multiple trips from Damsam into Kondus. The cost of the driver/guide/security was gonna be around per day. A permit was not necessary anymore, though.
I don’t particularly like guided tours and if I was gonna do one, then I’d rather go with a proper guide, so I could actually do some hiking. Winter, however, wasn’t exactly the right season for a longer hiking trip.
“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll just head back to Khaplu tomorrow. Maybe I come back next year with a guide!“, I replied after thinking it through for a bit.
The officer looked, understandably, quite a bit disappointed at that, having spent a fair bit of time trying to help me out. But we soon settled in beside the fire, talked about life and laughed at all the little misunderstandings that invariably happen when you don’t really have a common language. I ended up answering tons of questions about myself and Germany. What the weather was like there right now, if I was Muslim, why I looked Muslim when I wasn’t, why I wasn’t yet married with a few kids, if my government was good for Germans, how much a visa and a flight was gonna be to visit and what the hell I was thinking visiting Giligit-Baltistan in the middle of winter.
As the fire was dying down and couldn’t keep the cold at bay anymore I was escorted to the only hotel in town, just across from the checkpoint. In the kitchen, a grandfather and grandson team cooked me a diner of delicious eggs with tomato with a bunch of fresh chapatis. Then we settled down in the second and last room of the hotel. This was the sleeping area and contained, to my pleasant surprise, a raging hot oven. Three more guests eventually arrived, we chatted and laughed some more and by 20:30 all six of us were heading to bed, with the oven slowly fizzling out and the room growing colder. As I spread out my super-warm high-end sleeping quilt, grandpa took one look at it, decided it was completely unsuitable for and threw another thick blanket over me!
The Aftermath
Just after six in the morning the light went on in our communal sleeping area. My driver from the day before was there with another guy whose English was excellent.
“You need to go to the police, man! Hurry, we’re taking you now. It’s not good…”, he said with real concern on his face.
Still sleepy, I just about managed an OK and started packing my stuff. Then I paid grandpa the grand total sum of for food and lodging, said my goodbyes to the officer and soldiers and squeezed myself into the old Landcruiser with 19 other people, who were all talking about me and my little adventure. Not that I suddenly understood Balti or Urdu, but Pakistanis, like Indians, tend to use a fair amount of English words in their conversations and I definitely understood tourist, police, permit and Germany 😉
At first I assumed that the police in Khaplu wanted to see me, but it was actually the police checkpoint in Haldi that wanted a word.
A policeman was waiting for me there, “Sorry for the inconvenience. I need to see your passport and visa. Your driver didn’t stop yesterday and should’ve known better!”
After registering my details, he proceeded to lecture the driver in a friendly way about the proper proceedings and then we were off again towards Khaplu!
Even though I didn’t make it to Kondus, I still had a great time! Sometimes the journey, rather than the destination, makes a trip!