Alone but Alive

"As the bus snaked its way through the rugged mountains of Northern Pakistan, I sat quietly by the window—alone, yet never more connected to myself. The journey wasn’t just about reaching Hunza, Skardu, or Fairy Meadows; it was about losing the noise of the world to hear my own voice again. Solo travel through the North is not just scenic, it’s soulful."

Discovering Solitude in the North

Traveling solo in a place like Northern Pakistan may sound intimidating to some, but for those who crave peace, perspective, and raw natural beauty, it’s nothing short of magical. I ventured alone—not because I had no one to go with, but because I needed time with myself. I didn’t know that the silence of the mountains could speak louder than a crowd. And that’s exactly what the North taught me.

My journey began in Islamabad, the calm capital city that serves as a gateway to the majestic Gilgit-Baltistan region. From there, I hopped on a bus bound for Hunza Valley, a place often described as “heaven on earth.” The road itself was an adventure—a winding highway cut through rocky cliffs, glacial rivers rushing below, with snowcapped peaks standing like ancient guards on either side.

Hunza: Peace Wrapped in Mountains

Hunza welcomed me like an old friend. The locals smiled warmly, and I never once felt like a stranger. Altit and Baltit Forts offered a glimpse into the region’s history, while Attabad Lake, with its turquoise waters and tragic origins, felt like poetry in motion. I stayed in a small guesthouse in Karimabad where every morning, the sunrise would paint the mountains gold, as if nature itself had woken up just to greet me.

There was something spiritual about being alone here. Sitting by the lake with nothing but the sound of wind and water, I realized that solitude is not loneliness. It’s a conversation with your soul. I wrote pages in my journal I didn’t know I had inside me. I cried, I smiled, and I healed.

Skardu: Raw, Remote, and Real

Next, I traveled to Skardu, a land even more wild and untouched. The journey itself was intense—bumpy roads and narrow paths—but the reward was worth every mile. Skardu is where the earth and sky seem to meet. I explored Shigar Fort, walked beside Upper Kachura Lake, and stood in awe at the cold silence of Deosai Plains.

Deosai is called “the land of giants” for a reason. It stretches as far as the eye can see, wildflowers blooming beneath your feet, and marmots occasionally popping out of their burrows as if to say hello. I had no mobile signal, no internet, no distractions. Just me, the wind, and an endless sky. It was here that I realized how noisy life had become—and how beautiful silence really is.

Fairy Meadows: A Dream for the Brave

I saved the most daring part for last—Fairy Meadows. Reaching it isn’t easy. A bone-shaking jeep ride followed by a challenging trek brings you to a place that lives up to its name. Nestled at the base of Nanga Parbat, Pakistan’s “Killer Mountain,” Fairy Meadows looks like it belongs in a dream.

I pitched a tent, lit a campfire, and watched as the stars came out, one by one, until the sky turned into a galaxy. I was the only solo traveler in the camp that night. Some people were in groups, others were couples, but I didn’t feel out of place. In fact, I felt more connected to the universe than I ever had before.

There, under the Milky Way, I made a promise to myself—to travel not just to see new places, but to meet myself again and again.

Safety, Hospitality, and the Unexpected

One of the most beautiful surprises of this trip was how safe and supported I felt as a solo traveler in Northern Pakistan. Locals treated me with respect, curiosity, and kindness. Whether I was asking for directions, buying food, or simply walking alone, I never once felt unsafe.

The guesthouses were clean, the food was delicious, and the landscapes were surreal. I had chai with shepherds, heard stories from jeep drivers, and sat with old women who prayed for my safe journey. These moments, unplanned and unscripted, became the true heart of my adventure.

Final Reflections

Solo travel isn’t about isolation—it’s about connection. It’s about hearing your own thoughts clearly for the first time. In the North, surrounded by peaks that have stood for centuries, I found perspective. I realized how small my problems really were, and how big my courage had become.

Northern Pakistan is not just a destination. It’s a teacher, a healer, a sanctuary. If you ever feel lost in the world, go north. Not to escape, but to return—to yourself.