border crossing at wagah, and some sights of lahore
This is it, our entrance into the supposed most dangerous nation on earth. The Wagah border crossing is all that stands between us and Pakistan, and it was... empty. Because being all eager and Singaporean, we ended up at the border wayyyyy too early at 8 am, before the border is even open which is at 1030am. We sipped tea and had breakfast (maggi mee!) at a nearby stall to pass the time.
Tim, Roger and me waiting for the passport counter behind to be opened.
After our passports were stamped and thrown at us in jest by the immigration officer, we had to literally walk across the border, along a tar road.
This is the place where the legendary border closing ceremony takes place every day at 4pm. The stands were empty when we were there.
And finally, we reach the Pakistani portion of the entire border road. An Indian guard does a final check of our passports.
And we officially, physically, cross the line that divides India and Pakistan after Partition.
We are in Pakistan! No one to greet us though.
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Tim, Roger and me waiting for the passport counter behind to be opened.
After our passports were stamped and thrown at us in jest by the immigration officer, we had to literally walk across the border, along a tar road.
This is the place where the legendary border closing ceremony takes place every day at 4pm. The stands were empty when we were there.
And finally, we reach the Pakistani portion of the entire border road. An Indian guard does a final check of our passports.
We are in Pakistan! No one to greet us though.
This is the Pakistan immigration building. The insides were surprisingly clean and modern, in stark contrast to the Indian one. But we had to wait for the checkpoint to open though.
Immediately after clearing Pakistani customs, this is what stands outside...
We took a car from the border to Lahore. Here are some views (or lack of) from the car...
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As the sun set
After braving the crowds and the heat of day, we returned to the Golden Temple of Amritsar at dusk. The guidebook promised equally beautiful views. We were not disappointed.
Daylight had reflected off the white and gold of the temple structure harshly. As much as it illuminated the architectural splendor the temple, we were forced to squint. Dusk bathed the temple in a soothing evening glow and was a much more pleasant time for taking in its beauty.
The crowds had dwindled not but within the temple we managed to capture moments of reflective serenity.
As we walked past the communal dining hall, a passing Sikh man who did not speak English invited us in to partake in the free dinner. Breakfast, lunch and dinner are prepared and given out freely here; for the rest of the day, the place serves tea. He gesticulated to us and all but ushered us in. We had not planned to have dinner there but it seemed like there was an experience to be had so we went in.
As we went in, we collected our crockery from bins that line the way leading up into the dining hall. No utensils; people here eat with their hands.
It's a very efficient operation. Diners sit in the order in which they appear, joining lines that snake around the dining hall. Food duly comes round. As diners join the end of the line, the other end of the line finishes its meal and leaves the hall. Cleaners come round to mop up at that end. This curious procession of sorts snakes round the hall throughout mealtimes.
We joined a row of fellow meal-takers. Dining hall helpers with pails of sloshing food came round to dish out portions onto our plates. They patrol the rows, giving out refills as needed.
Dinner consisted of a lightly spiced rice, a sweet tasty rice paste, paratha and curry. Quite a carbo overload. The rice paste was nicest; the rest were not very appetizing but the food was clean, edible and free.
It's not nice to waste free food in a religious place so we forced ourselves to finish all that we got.
The sun had set completely after dinner and the temple lit up.
As had happened before elsewhere in India, friendly locals engaged us in conversation. Three young Sikhs introduced themselves to us as we were taking the preceding photographs and shared some background information and history about their religion and the temple. After chatting for a few minutes and taking more photos, we went to sit at a corner of the temple grounds for an extended chat, during which we told them about Singapore and they shared more about themselves and their religion. They seemed very passionate about Sikhism and after looking affronted when we told them we had no religion, they were very eager to tell us all that our inquisitive minds wanted to know about their culture. But after a while our curiousity had been satiated and we were really just asking questions out of politeness.
(Tim entertained the suspicion that they could be a manifestation of the "gemstone scam" that the guidebook had warned of. One of them did, unusually, ask about the gold business in Singapore. They mentioned that they had met another 3 tourists the day before and also offered to meet us at another time to show us around Amritsar. Elgin theorised in reply that they had originally targeted us for their scam but upon realising that we were hardly founts of wealth just settled for a friendly chat. They did not seem entirely natural but without sufficient information, I withhold judgement. Cynicism is not very fun.)
Daylight had reflected off the white and gold of the temple structure harshly. As much as it illuminated the architectural splendor the temple, we were forced to squint. Dusk bathed the temple in a soothing evening glow and was a much more pleasant time for taking in its beauty.
The crowds had dwindled not but within the temple we managed to capture moments of reflective serenity.
As we walked past the communal dining hall, a passing Sikh man who did not speak English invited us in to partake in the free dinner. Breakfast, lunch and dinner are prepared and given out freely here; for the rest of the day, the place serves tea. He gesticulated to us and all but ushered us in. We had not planned to have dinner there but it seemed like there was an experience to be had so we went in.
As we went in, we collected our crockery from bins that line the way leading up into the dining hall. No utensils; people here eat with their hands.
It's a very efficient operation. Diners sit in the order in which they appear, joining lines that snake around the dining hall. Food duly comes round. As diners join the end of the line, the other end of the line finishes its meal and leaves the hall. Cleaners come round to mop up at that end. This curious procession of sorts snakes round the hall throughout mealtimes.We joined a row of fellow meal-takers. Dining hall helpers with pails of sloshing food came round to dish out portions onto our plates. They patrol the rows, giving out refills as needed.
Dinner consisted of a lightly spiced rice, a sweet tasty rice paste, paratha and curry. Quite a carbo overload. The rice paste was nicest; the rest were not very appetizing but the food was clean, edible and free.
It's not nice to waste free food in a religious place so we forced ourselves to finish all that we got.
The sun had set completely after dinner and the temple lit up.
As had happened before elsewhere in India, friendly locals engaged us in conversation. Three young Sikhs introduced themselves to us as we were taking the preceding photographs and shared some background information and history about their religion and the temple. After chatting for a few minutes and taking more photos, we went to sit at a corner of the temple grounds for an extended chat, during which we told them about Singapore and they shared more about themselves and their religion. They seemed very passionate about Sikhism and after looking affronted when we told them we had no religion, they were very eager to tell us all that our inquisitive minds wanted to know about their culture. But after a while our curiousity had been satiated and we were really just asking questions out of politeness.
(Tim entertained the suspicion that they could be a manifestation of the "gemstone scam" that the guidebook had warned of. One of them did, unusually, ask about the gold business in Singapore. They mentioned that they had met another 3 tourists the day before and also offered to meet us at another time to show us around Amritsar. Elgin theorised in reply that they had originally targeted us for their scam but upon realising that we were hardly founts of wealth just settled for a friendly chat. They did not seem entirely natural but without sufficient information, I withhold judgement. Cynicism is not very fun.)