Naran and the Kaghan Valley

The lake I stand before seems frozen both literally and figuratively; an icy sheath belies its liquid underbelly, and the entire snow-covered valley seems isolated by both road and time. The memory of sweaty, chaotic bus stations in the low lands fades, and it feels as if I have stepped into a picture, somewhere so beautifully perfect yet so strikingly different. It’s almost uncanny. Welcome to Jheel Saif-ul-Malook, or Lake Saif-ul-Malook, one of Pakistan’s most beautiful national parks.

Jheel Saif-ul-Malook

My friend and I set out for Naran (often called “Naran, Kaghan”), the main service town for Jheel Saif-ul-Malook, from Islamabad early on a Friday morning. The initial drive through Abbottabad and Mansehra was rather suburban; these two small cities lie just twenty kilometres apart, and two hours from the capital, so it never really feels like you have left the city. However it’s after Mansehra that things start to get interesting; a further half hour of driving brought us to Balakot and the entrance to the stunning Kaghan Valley. As we travelled the final 80 kilometres towards Naran, the road twisted and turned, hugging the sides of the valley, the mountain cliffs becoming ever more dramatic and sheer.

Kaghan Valley near Kiwai

About a third of the way along we reached Kiwai, a town which fills a crevasse in the side of the Kaghan Valley. Melting snow from the peaks high above create a constant stream of near-freezing water cascading down into the town’s more temperate climes. Enterprising business owners have set up restaurants on these rivers, and we spent an hour lolling around on charpoys (string beds), occasionally dipping our feet into the icy water, and picking our refreshing Coca Colas out of the water when they were suitably chilled. Simply bliss.

Further along the road, we reached the valley’s namesake town, Kaghan. It’s a rather non-descript place with a shabby-looking bazaar, however it’s notable because this is where the temperature begins to drop and the altitude gets serious. Beyond Kaghan, we drove through alpine valleys where the road cut through glaciers, and spotted waterfalls of melted ice cascading over huge drops from the peaks high above. Sweeping into Naran’s busy, chilly bazaar, we made plans for the next day’s trip to Jheel Saif-ul-Malook.

Local children on the road near Kaghan

We had worried that Jheel Saif-ul-Malook would be frozen and adrift with snow, making the trip there pointless; in the middle of winter, the lake practically disappears under metres of ice. We had wondered whether we should have travelled a bit later in the year, when summer had set in and the lake would be more distinct. We also knew that travelling earlier would make the trip more rewarding, because we would avoid the huge crowds that descend on the area after Eid ul-Fitr in July.

Malika Parbat and Jheel Saif-ul-Malook

The rocky road to Saif-ul-Malook is not Pakistan’s best, and the jeep stopped more than once to rearrange boulders on the track ahead of us. After about 40 minutes of driving, the road levelled out, became a bit smoother, and then rounded a corner to suddenly reveal the lake.  And what a sight it was. A ring around the lake had melted, revealing a turquoise blue, while the centre of lake was frozen, but had begun to melt. Our timing was perfect; the summer had just begun, leaving a patchwork of whiter-than-white ice and azure water reminiscent of the geometric tiled patterns in mosques in Persia and Anatolia.

It was completely still, silent, just the light whistling of the breeze to disturb the solitude. Around the towering above the lake is Malika Parbat, the ‘Queen of Mountains’, draped in glaciers and snow drifts. Approaching the lake’s shore, the water appeared glassy, reflecting the black and white streaks of the surrounding mountains. We sat by the lake with some fellow travellers, had a barbecue, and watched the menacing snow clouds roll in to the valley. Transfixed by the scene unfolding before us, we lost track of the time… we were among the last travellers to head back to Naran that night, departing Saif-ul-Malook in a flurry of snow, snapping back to reality, and a world where there is no time to sit and watch the ice melt.