We called a Careem and arrived at the airport a little before 5am. The hassle continued; the handlers insisted on charging 260 KWD (almost 850 USD) of “passenger fees”, despite the fact that they agreed we were not passengers and had also charged crew handling fees. The customer service agent present did not have the authority to remove the fees, nobody who did have authority was around at this time, and they would not allow us to leave without payment, despite agreeing that they were wrong, and confirming they’d be refunded after the fact. I had them transfer these fees to a separate invoice and wrote “Paid under duress” next to the signature, so I could dispute the charge with the credit card company later if needed. I did manage to get the proposed 160 USD charge for the 20-second car ride across the apron to the plane removed, by insisting that we’d walk. These people really had no shame.

On the plus side, immigration loved our company IDs.

Pre-flight was straightforward and we took off shortly before 0600 for our long flight to Karachi, Pakistan. ATC assigned us the BOXIK 4F departure with an initial altitude of 4,000ft, but as soon as we took off, they simply cleared us direct to the edge of the Kuwait Flight Information Region (FIR). The high-pressure system that we’d been flying in persisted, adding just a little extra aircraft performance. It was hard to make contact with Bahrain due to the distance and our relatively low altitude, but we were patient and eventually established communications as we cruised down the center of the Persian Gulf.

The regions’ oil and gas prominence was on full display as we flew, with a multitude of platforms and other facilities in the water, and refineries and export facilities on the shore. As we approached Qatar we could clearly see Shell’s enormous Pearl Gas to Liquid facility, a technological marvel which converts natural gas into heavier liquid hydrocarbons.

It was right around here that we took a left turn and headed for Abu Dhabi, and also that we crossed 52 degrees east; this was the half-way point in terms of longitude between Shoreham and our destination of Johor Bahru.

For some reason most of the air traffic controllers along the route had asked us to confirm that we were IFR. I’m not sure why, as it was clearly noted in our flight plan – perhaps our low altitude and slow speed were confusing them. We were actually moving quite fast for a 182, with a 15 to 20kt tailwind pushing our groundspeed over 150kts. We passed over Abu Dhabi above a scattered cloud layer, catching glimpses of the skyscrapers and other impressive structures down below.

As we approached Oman we were handed over to Muscat ATC. Our route took us over the highest points of the Hajar Mountains, which straddle the border of the UAE and Oman and if we continued along the flight planned route we would need to climb a few thousand feet. I wanted to avoid this as Planey performs very nicely at 9,000ft, and I was hopeful that Muscat would be as accommodating this time with short-cuts as they had been back in 2019. I was not disappointed, and they readily cleared us off to the north of the route to stay clear of the high ground. Passing just north of Muscat, we struck out over the waters of the Gulf of Oman, skirting Iranian airspace and setting course for Pakistan.

The next couple of hours were very quiet, out of sight of land. We were handed over from Muscat to Karachi and eventually the coast of Iran came into view off the left, just before we entered Pakistani airspace. The weather was a little hazy but we still had decent views of the city as we were vectored south of the airport and around to land from the east, following the ILS for runway 25 L behind an airliner from flydubai. Tower gave us directions over to the western end of the airport where itinerant general aviation park, with the follow-me car pulling up in front and leading us along shortly after we left the runway. The flight had taken just under 6 hours.

We were met by some soldiers, on airport security duty, our handlers, and the fuel supplier. Ahmed and Essam from General Aviation Support Egypt had also arranged for some Aeroshell W100 oil to be supplied, so that we could switch over from the lighter weight, cold weather W80 we’d been using until now. We took on another two barrels of fuel here; there was no fancy trailer or electric pump, but the process was still fairly smooth. This done, we performed the oil change, and secured Planey for his two-night stay at the Karachi airport.

We rode on a little bus with the handling agents over to the main terminal, where they escorted us through customs and immigration and handed us over to the driver from the nearby airport hotel that we’d be staying at, just a short drive away. Security was taken seriously, and the hotel could only be accessed by going through security at the vehicle gate, and then another two rounds of personal security checks before being disgorged into the lobby.

We had dinner that night in one of the hotel restaurants and watched a multitude of photoshoots continuing around the pool area; some seemingly for weddings, others seemingly for a new social media profile picture. While in the West the majority of couple photoshoots seem to involve the guy taking pictures for the girl, in the Middle East the balance seemed to tip in the other direction!

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Ben had arranged a good day out for us on our day off in Karachi, organising a car and driver to take us around some of the city’s sights. We departed mid-morning, and it very quickly became apparent that our driver was not a born navigator. He took us first to the wrong museum, not a big deal as the correct one wasn’t too far away. For the rest of the day, up until it was time to head back to the hotel, he indicated that we should use Google Maps to direct him from place to place, and that worked out fine!

Our first stop was the Pakistan Air Force Museum. This museum is housed on ground that used to host hangars in the time of British colonial rule. After much discussion, the museum was established in 1990 and is now one of the biggest attractions in the city for tourists and locals alike. Our driver’s English was limited (although infinitely better than my Urdu, so I am certainly not complaining) and we had a little trouble communicating clearly – I believe he was telling us that the museum did not permit entry to men on their own, but only to families. Either way, he arranged access for us, telling us that we were his family now. This has been borne out by the fact that he remains in WhatsApp contact with Ben to this day, telling him how much he misses him, which is sweet.

On entering, it did seem that there was a marked absence of men on their own, and an abundance of families. The vast majority of the museum is outside, with static display aircraft dotted around a huge grassy area where families picnic and children play. At some point there had apparently been a sponsorship deal with Pepsi, which has led to some peculiar branding juxtapositions such as a Pepsi logo adorning an information board all about high explosive bombs. I suspect that Pepsi head office would not be thrilled.

There was a wide variety of static display aircraft on show – everything from two-seat, single engine piston-powered initial trainers all the way up to advanced jet fighters and military transports. Information boards next to each aircraft explained a bit about the type, and its history with the Pakistan Air Force. The sheer variety of aircraft that the air force has operated in their relatively short existence was impressive. It was nice to see a Cessna 180 featured – the tailwheel cousin of my own Cessna 182.

The main theme of the museum was, unsurprisingly, the rivalry with India which had been intense ever since Pakistan gained independence in 1947. Inside the display hangar this was on full display, with multiple dioramas showing Pakistani successes over India, such as the forcing down and capture of an Indian Gnat jet in 1965 by Pakistan Air Force F-104 Starfighters. The Gnat itself is on display, alongside a representation of the event in model form. Also on show is wreckage from the shooting down of an Indian MIG-21 in the 2019 India – Pakistan border skirmishes. These had been ongoing at the time of my previous flight through this region, and had meant that Pakistani airspace was entirely closed to me at that time.

We wandered back to the entrance past another wide variety of static display aircraft. Several of these were Afghani aircraft which had defected to Pakistan at various times, including a large turboprop Antonov AN-12. Also on display was a Shenyang F-6 fighter in joint Chinese and Pakistani colours; this aircraft is a Chinese version of the old Soviet MIG-19. Near the gate was a most unusual beast – a Kaman HH-43 Huskie. This 1950s era helicopter has no tail rotor, instead using two counter-rotating main rotors which intermesh. A mechanical linkage keeps them in sync and prevents them from colliding, but even knowing this it still looks pretty scary. It performs well in hot, high-altitude service, something that Pakistan has plenty of need for.

Our next stop was the National Museum of Pakistan. Established in 1951, this museum took over from the old Victoria Museum, which had been converted into Pakistan’s state bank in 1948. The museum now hosts 11 galleries covering various periods and themes from Pakistan’s history, including a Quran gallery with more than 50 rare and beautiful copies of this book on display. Other galleries include Indus civilization artifacts, Gandhara civilization sculptures, Islamic art, miniature paintings, ancient coins and manuscripts documenting Pakistan’s political history.

The museum was not huge, so we found ourselves with some time remaining at the end of our visit. We decided to head down to the sea front and take a walk, visiting another historic building along the way however – the Mohatta Palace Museum. Built in 1927 by a Hindu businessman, Shivratan Mohatta, he enjoyed it for two decades before the partition of British India and his relocation to the new independent India, and away from Pakistan. The palace was purchased by the government for use as the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, before Fatima Jinnah (sister of Pakistan’s founder, Muhammad Ali Jinnah) moved into it in 1964. In 1995 it was purchased by the provincial government and converted into a museum.

The ground floor is dedicated to photos of the life, and indeed funeral, of Muhammad Ali Jinnah. Jinnah served as the leader of the All-India Muslim League from 1913 until the inception of Pakistan on 14 August 1947 and then as Pakistan’s first governor-general until his death on 11 September 1948. He presided over the great migration that accompanied the partition of India, generally recognised as the largest mass-migration in history, and is revered in Pakistan as the Father of the Nation. I’m no political scholar, but he seemed like a remarkable man. The upper floors were devoted to an exhibition of traditional textiles; sadly, no photos were allowed, with mobile phones having to be left at the reception of the building.

It was a short drive from the Mohatta Palace to the seafront. Our driver managed to squeeze us into a parking spot and, unwilling to leave us unsupervised (probably a good move) accompanied us across the grassy forefront and down to the water’s edge. There was a distinct lack of foreign visitors and we therefore attracted a little attention, with several requests for selfies, and an ever-present desire to discuss cricket. Knowing absolutely nothing about cricket, I felt like I was letting everyone down.

The beach was absolutely thronged with people, and the salesmen who had flocked there to do business with them. There were men with blankets where you could leave your shoes, plenty of food vendors, people offering rides on dune buggies, and quite a few camels. The weather was lovely – cool and calm, and I reflected on what a nice time of year this was to fly this route, compared to my mid-summer timing a few years before. We returned to the car, and set out back to the hotel.

Our driver was fully confident in his routing now, and led us off along a “short-cut”. It was pretty effective, but even so, it was impossible to avoid all of the traffic. Even when sitting in a jam, though, it was fascinating to gaze out at the hustle of street activity in such an unfamiliar place. Apparently today was a “Cultural Day” in Karachi, and every now and then a huge parade of vehicles would zoom past flying flags, which our driver informed us was related to these celebrations. We stopped off at the METRO store near the hotel, expecting to find a supermarket where we could buy some snacks for the next day’s flights. It turned out to be a giant bulk store reminiscent of Costco but we still managed to pick up some suitable supplies.

Walking through the lobby on my return, I noticed a curious sign. The hotel spa was advertising manicures/pedicures, facials, and full body waxes. The odd thing was that the facials and waxes were available for men only.

That evening we ate at the hotel once again and turned in early, ready for another early departure for the longest flight so far – all the way across India, to Chittagong in Bangladesh.

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