I have arrived! After insisting to my loved ones that my Heathrow airport goodbyes must be completely tearless, I'm afraid to say that no sooner had I turned the corner towards our departure lounge the floodgates opened and I had to canoe my way through security. I'm surprised they didn't make me cry into that little plastic bag they make you carry all your liquids through in, but I undoubtedly produced more than 100ml so perhaps the less said about the better.

Anyway, the flight was a wobbly one, we were served some lovely packaging with a bit of food in it, watched a couple of average films and landed with a bump in Islamabad at about 6am on Sunday. We spent a painfully long time being claustrophobically squashed by a large old Muslim woman in the queue for immigration, and were then greeted by Gulzar from VSO. Now I don't want to go on about the weather but yes, the sun was already doing it's stuff as Gulzar and about five of his mates squashed all eleven volunteers stuff into what can only be described as an oversized campervan. Shockingly enough, my stuff wouldn't fit in so they stuck it on the roof and off we went through the wide streets of Islamabad, guest house bound (see pic below)

My fellow volunteer Jo (read more about her wonderfulness here) and I were allocated to share a room, and were bowled over by how gorgeous it all was. There's one huge huge bigger-than-kingsize bed and a little put-up one in the corner. To save any arguments, we got the little bed removed and are now happily Morcomb and Wise-ing it up in style. We've got our own bathroom and satellite TV and everything, we even watched Baywatch and Mr. Bean the other day, in that order.

Anyway, VSO generously allowed us a couple of hours to sleep and freshen up (after being awake and traveling half way across te world for about 30 hours) before bombarding us with information and welcome packs and whatnot. The next few days were spent meeting all the VSO programme office staff, getting to know the other volunteers and learning how to eat curry, dahl and rice with just a chapatti, and just with one hand. The only time spent out of the guesthouse was when we took the twenty minute walk to the office, through dusty roads lined with men staring like we’re made out of cake, and masses of pungent, naturally growing cannabis plants. The locals don’t seem remotely interested in this, but naturally Jo and I thought it hilarious; in fact she got so excited she stepped in a giant water buffalo dung trying to get a good sniff.

Sadly, some pleb orchestrated a suicide attack on Gen Musharraf in Rawalpindi (part of Islamabad) so we weren’t allowed out to play for a bit, but as soon as VSO gave the all-clear on security, off I went exploring the markets and getting stared at some more. With the expert haggling skills of VSO staff Masoora and Sabohi, I purchased material for six salwar kameez sets (baggy trousers and long shirt thing worn with a big shawl called a dupatta to cover your modesty. Ahem.) and visited the tailor to get them made up, couture of course. I tried in vain with my very broken Urdu to explain to the tailor that I wanted the trousers to be more like the ones I had on than two sacks with elastic around the ankles, and he assured me that he would make ones with ‘bell-ends’. I have no idea what this means but it sounded like fun so off I went. The evenings so far have seen a trip to Pizza Hut (yes), games of freestyle badminton on the gated lawn (no net), Jo and I giggling ourselves to sleep designing renegade shalwar kameez (including a santa, supergirl and giant lizard woman) and any or all of us trying desperately not to poo ourselves as the green tea and chilli laden diet begins to take its toll.

Saturday saw us touring various places of interest in Islamabad, including a museum, the Faisal Mosque (the big modern one in the picture - wow) and a viewing point where you get to see the whole city in all it's dusty, gridtastic glory. Here, an excitable group of young Pakistani women became fascinated by our entire group and took loads of photos with us, my blonde hair/blue eyed combo going down a particular treat. An evening of shopping and merriment was then cut short by the news that Gen Musharraf had decided to declare a State of Emergency, anyone who doesn't already know all about that can find out here). So I downed my fresh apple juice (the closest I can get to Westons in these troubled times) and got a taxi back to the guesthouse, only to find that the military had cut transmission of all but one, state-led TV station. We didn't have a clue what was going on, but VSO stuck us all under house arrest for the evening, where I entertained myself by ordering pizza and teaching one of our wonderful Pakistani hosts some cockney rhyming slang.

At the time of going to press, we're all still none the wiser about what all this martial law jazz will mean for us volunteers, particularly Jo and I who are heading up to the NWFP where tensions have been particularly high. At the moment, our departure from Islamabad to Peshawar will be delayed until the dust settles, so watch this space.....