The abundance of tourist attractions in the northern areas of Pakistan has always guaranteed a respite from the otherwise chaotic city life.

Be it the picturesque Swat Valley, with its unique blend of mountains bordering the Swat River or the velvety Kaghan Valley, with its secret fairyland in the form of Lake Saiful Malook, we have surely been blessed with priceless natural beauty that we can proudly claim as our own.

We have always maintained a special possessiveness for our tourism landmarks that have developed in the valleys brimming with multiple shades of green, the slopes that dominate the environs yet maintain a magnificent sense of serenity and calm, making their beauty almost tangible.

Two years back we lost quite a bit to the hands of Mother Nature’s wrath when it nearly overturned the entire north. Many of us may have thought that the earthquake nightmare was finally over. But a horrific sight would surely make all of us think contrarily, the sight of bombs, gunship helicopters and artilleries, that have come from nowhere and fanged into the soil of a land that was once known for its calmness.

Who could have thought that a peacefully scenic hill station, Swat, would turn into a civil war battlefield? The coverage on the various news channels is unbelievable and devastating. It instigates a collective feeling of helplessness and despair to watch the destruction, and to be able to do nothing.

It is frightening to imagine the consequential damage to inland tourism keeping in mind that it has already started on a steady decline. There was a time when the highlands attracted a large number of tourists, even from abroad, for an experience rich in entertainment and an idyllic diversion from the hectic city life. The widespread mountain ranges welcomed foreign trekking expeditions opening new opportunities for the Pakistani tourism industry.

The cultural heritage rooted deep in these localities, the festivities and the remnants of civilisations that are reflective in the art, craft and lifestyles of the local people have also given way to numerous opportunities for trade and hence created business links. But all these favourable prospects are, at the moment, gravely threatened by the unpredictable conditions within our country.

But whatever tourism that manages to survive, it needs to be saved and protected with caution. This summer when I planned a holiday with my husband up north, we disappointedly experienced that there were many other elements that were pushing it towards destruction. The constantly raved about, extremely friendly and hospitable attitude of the locals residing in these areas is gone. What has taken place instead? A crazy, greedy force to draw out as much money as possible from tourists rendered helpless by the unfamiliarity with the surroundings.

Be it shopkeepers selling attractive souvenirs or taxi drivers and transporters, or be it the staff at cafes, motels and rest houses, one is always vulnerable to be trapped any time into being “fined” by them for baffling reasons. The seemingly innocent catch you unaware, such as a man who convinces you into trying to shoot a set of objects assembled in a row and charges you for each shot instead of the whole row. Or a gemstone trader who sells you a coloured zircon in the name of coral, topaz and what not!

At the same time, it is unfair to point fingers at those who are already struggling with a life in regions highly underdeveloped, where life is as harsh as it can get. It is where the extremity of climatic conditions, coupled with a strictly limited tourism season, keeps the locals on a permanent financial strain. The desperation among these people is an obvious consequence when they eye visitors as walking wallets, practically pouncing at them to maximise their seasonal pay.

The rigid, inflexible attitudes, exceptionally common to these mountain people don’t help them either. They refuse to broaden their horizon and make use of the plentiful employment opportunities in adjoining areas, which are at lower altitudes and resemble active city life.

Naheer chooses to earn his living as a guide. His daily wage therefore depends on the number of tourists and visitors he plays guide to. If there goes a day without anyone calling for his expertise, then there is no money to take home that day. According to him, the genuinely interested tourists are gone -- those who covered great distances and travelled by buses and air to reach their favourite holiday spots. They were the ones who were keen to discover the entire valleys, the lakes, the unexpected waterfalls. Not having their own transport and being totally unfamiliar with the place, they relied totally on the locals. This gave them business, they remained happy and all was good.

Then came the let’s-go-to-Muree-for-the-weekend culture. Residents of Islamabad, Rawalpindi and Lahore conveniently and spontaneously dropped by these places in their own cars. They know the roads, they have their own rest houses, even apartments in the surrounding valleys, making the locals even more frustrated and anxious.

Aggravating the marked decline in tourism came the uncalled for terrorist activities, the fear and the destruction. Today it is Swat under siege, something no one could have possibly predicted.