In the mountains of Pakistan, a Frenchman is on a mission. Armed
with a net and a smelly cheese, Jerome Pages braves the perils of
Taliban militants to chase his obsession: butterflies.
For two decades the 64-year-old has scoured the remote, pristine
landscapes of Pakistan's north, where the Himalayas meet the
Karakoram and Hindu Kush ranges.
He scrambles across the cedar-robed hillsides of Ayubia, 100
kilometres (60 miles) northwest of Islamabad, the majestic peaks of
Kashmir on the horizon, chasing a butterfly known in India but not
in Pakistan.
"What a beauty! You only find this species in the Himalayas," he
exclaims, stopping before a tiny butterfly with lime green tints on
its wings.
With his helper Nasir, Pages recently spent six weeks among the
woods and slopes of northern Pakistan, guarded by curious police
officers wielding automatic rifles.
Before the September 11 attacks, thousands of foreign tourists came
to Pakistan to climb and hike in the foothills of some of the
world's highest mountains.
Now the risk of attack means the few who come are accompanied by
armed police. In June, Islamist gunmen killed 10 foreign climbers
at a camp at the base of Nanga Parbat, the country's second-highest
peak.
But the rapid shrinking of the areas accessible to butterfly
hunters has not stopped Pages jumping in his battered jeep to tour
Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, Gilgit-Baltistan and Kashmir -- accompanied the
whole time by policemen bemused at this strange foreigner's
antics.
A professor of statistics at an agricultural university in Rennes,
northwest France, Pages emerges from his chrysalis in the summer
holiday to flit around Pakistan.
This year's expedition saw him equipped on this trip with some
unusual bait -- a Maroilles cheese.
"A few days before I set off, my wife bought a Maroilles, but it
was starting to turn. A Maroilles on the turn and a journey to
Pakistan. It clicked immediately and I brought it with me," he
said.
Butterflies are attracted to rotting matter, and Pages hoped the
pungent, orange-skinned Maroilles would prove a potent addition to
his usual armoury of decaying fruit.
But while his guide Nasir certainly felt the kick -- "It's very
strange and very strong," he said through a pinched nose -- the
butterflies weren't so interested in the cheese, and Pages stuck to
the tried and tested fruit.
After years chasing butterflies in Turkey, Pages turned to Pakistan
in 1994 almost by default. He has come to love its variety of
terrain, from deserts to damp forests, and for the fact it remains
unexplored by other collectors.
"Afghanistan was impossible, Iran very difficult, so Pakistan it
was. The unique thing about Pakistan is the great range of
habitats," he said.
"In France, every species has been recorded for almost a century --
there are no new butterflies any more, but in Pakistan there's
always the hope that somewhere off the track you might find
something new."
And in 2006 his quest bore fruit, when he found a previously
unknown species, with brown and ochre wings in the Swat Valley,
which been described in the past as the Switzerland of
Pakistan.
He named the new butterfly "Annieae" after his wife Annie and gave
specimens to the British Museum in London and the Musee de l'Homme
in Paris.
Sadly it was Pages' last visit to Swat -- a year after his
discovery the Taliban seized control of the valley, banning girls
from attending school and executing opponents.
An army operation flushed them out in 2009 but insecurity in Swat
persists, preventing Pages returning. Last October Taliban gunmen
shot schoolgirl activist Malala Yousafzai in the main town of
Swat.