I miss Islamabad. When I lived there, I didn't much like it. More because I was in a constant state of rebellion against all things Pakistani. Now, I love it. I have to admit though, when we touched ground and had to go through the hassle of the airport, I did wonder why I had agreed on a trip to Pakistan.
Once we were out though, it was a whole different story. It was good to see the Margallah Hills in the distance, the tree lined avenues and experience the Islamabad rain. It did my heart - and soul - some good. I got to chat with old dear and darling friends; eat in old haunts; shop in my favourite shops in Jinnah and Super Market and discover new ones. Despite it's sleepy reputation, Islamabad is not at all a sleepy city to me. Neighbours were constantly dropping by with plates of food. The Boogster enjoyed himself and for the first time I saw my son's feet get really dirty (as in black soles). I took on Pakistani traffic and drove. The hubby and I ate Afghani burgers (Afghani naan stuffed with chips, sausage, chicken, various chutneys and a sprinkling of Islamabad dust). We discovered Saidpur Village. Ate some more. Found out you couldn't play ball games in F-9 park. Something was always happening.
I have the Islamabad blues.
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