Neil Manthorp, writing in Super Cricket, provides a fascinating account of the sights and sounds of Pakistan, along with a description of his meeting with a salesman in Lahore.

The only specific shopping commission I had was for pashmina shawls, a speciality of the region. Made from cashmere, silk or wool - or a combination of two, or even all three - it was an impossible task [for me, anyway] to work out which were 'the real thing.'

Having attempted to bargain with stall holder Ashraf and his seven-year-old nephew, Ephraim, it soon became apparent that it was not a fair contest.

Ephraim was there because he knew more English than his fiercely bearded uncle but it made little difference.

Ashraf knew immediately that I was his for the taking. Having secured three shawls [all of which felt as soft as cashmere to me] for the princely sum of Rs. 110, Ashraf looked a little crestfallen - and revealed his knowledge of English wasn't as sparse as he made out. "You only tourist today, nobody come here now. Business no good."

And with that he handed me another shawl with the words: "Take and give your friends, you tell that is good place here...Smith must come to see."