By telling us your country of residence we are able to provide you with the most relevant travel insurance information.
Please note that not all content is translated or available to residents of all countries. Contact us for full details.
Shares
Islamabad is altogether different from what you find in Country, when Convey runs down dusty lanes brimming with shouting individuals. It's quiet, peaceful and exceptionally green. Along the side of the road youngsters sell new mangos and the business sectors of the sixth and seventh locale are loaded up with shops and even some western inexpensive food chains. On one side of the city, the Himalayan Massif fires developing with excellent rainforests and monkeys shouting from the highest point of the trees. In it, Faisal Mosque, a blessing from Saudi Arabia, lingers over the city. The rainforests of the Magla slopes are ideal for climbing and I respect the landscape from Dam-ne-koh, a perspective from where you can see the whole city and watch out over unlimited stretches of green. While I'm remaining there, I get the enthusiasm of completely everybody. Ladies, men and youngsters all need to get a more critical take a gander at my white skin and light hair. The ladies offer me praises on how well my kameez – the customary Pakistani two-piece suit worn by ladies and men the same – suits me. Everybody needs to take a selfie with me to show to their families. Before the day's over, I'm very sure that half of Islamabad has seen my marginally burned from the sun face grinning out of a cell phone screen some place. Time passes quick in a city which yields new fortunes every step of the way. I find Islamabad's best dessert parlor holed up behind the shopping center and a scoop of kulfi frozen yogurt – a powerful blend of cardamom, rose, saffron and pistachio – turns into a day by day custom, much like getting spruced up in my wonderful, vaporous kameez.