India

Incredible India

Arrival

Delhi was hot, really hot and humid. At the airport the innumerable taxis appeared to be playing dodgems both with each other and/or any pedestrians that got in the way. Excitedly three of us crammed our bodies and bags into a small taxi and after bumping into only a couple of other vehicles we were on our way. But only for 100 yards, when we stopped and picked up the driver’s friend, clearly there’s always room for “one more” in any vehicle in India. Its especially so on motorbikes; although not so much a game of “how many” but the variety. For me the peach was seeing a whole family, toddler clutching on to the petrol tank, proud dad driving very carefully, then the bored older sister and Mum just squeezing on at the back, seated side saddle and breast feeding a baby. Good grief.

Excitement levels continued to mount as we drove along crowded roads to the Parharganj area of Delhi. We’ve commented before on the erratic driving in various places, but clearly didn’t know the half of it; even without the cows Indian traffic just takes the biscuit. But then so does the decoration of the vehicles, which can’t fail to make you smile.

Changing Plans

We awoke next day to not just rain but really hard rain and it seems that the monsoon had arrived some two weeks early. The waiters in the Hotel’s roof top restaurant were dancing in the rain, clearly very happy to greet the end of Delhi’s hot season. We were less convinced but ventured outside where it was like walking through a steam room with a shower full on.

It didn’t take long to realise the only sensible action would be to flee to the relative cool of the hills, and flee immediately. All we needed was a train ticket to Shimla. Sounds easy?

We’d previously read of the ingenuity of the Delhi Touts and suitably pre warned knew we should buy a ticket only at the first floor tourist desk at the New Delhi railway station and nowhere else. We weren’t really fooled by the local chap “guiding” us in the wrong direction; but were annoyed when we realised just how far in the wrong direction he’d taken us. Wet and yet hot, we jumped into an auto-rickshaw, which promptly took us to another wrong place. Refusing to pay unless he took us to the station, he agreed but couldn’t re-start his engine so off we went on a long trudge.

We were determined to just get to the station and buy a ticket and I’m sure were almost there when the heavens simply opened. We were beckoned into the shelter of a railway office by a railway official. He showed us his ID badge and explained that you can only buy tickets for today’s train at the station and that there was now a government booking office in Connaught Place (the smartest area of central Delhi). We tried to fend him off, knowing that this probably wasn’t the case but even as he was congratulating us for trusting no-one he successfully conned us and off we went to Connaught Place, where instead of a train ticket to Shimla we ended up buying an air ticket to Srinagar in the Kashmir valley. Welcome to Delhi!!

Kashmir

So next day we were on our way to Kashmir, a high valley (2,500m) in the Indian Himalayas and an area of great beauty. Funnily, it transpired to be a better plan as we hadn’t realised that the monsoon would also be raging in Shimla. Visiting Srinagar has been a dream since my teenage years and it gave us five fabulous days on a house boat to acclimatise for the dizzying heights of Ladakh.

Sadly, the paradise valley has been plagued by violent unrest and infighting since India’s Independence in 1947. These troubles continue and can blow up with little or no notice and it was once we were on the plane that we realised that we hadn’t told a soul where we were headed. (Heartfelt thanks to both Jude and Karen for responding to our email sent next day!)

People move around on the lake in small boats (Shikaras), looking like a kind of Kashmiri Gondolas. Being paddled around on a tour of the lake was really enjoyable. The lake houses numerous huge floating gardens growing all sorts of vegetables, which in turn encourages a rich and varied birdlife. Masses of water lilies were everywhere but most thrilling were the early lotus flowers just coming into bloom.

Srinagar remains a city under “occupation”, in that its swamped by khaki uniformed Indian military personnel; we’d swear that there was a soldier sheltering under every tree and there are sandbagged checkpoints dotted along all roads. We knew that India has the world’s second largest army (guessing that China has the largest) and most military personnel seem to be deployed in Kashmir.

Just two days after we left, Land Rights for an important Hindu Shrine were granted to a Hindu group, but as the shrine is in a Muslim area the decision caused great upset. Riots broke out and Srinagar was closed down by a military curfew; so as ever luck was with us. (As we’re writing this some two months later the troubles continue, exacerbated by a number of incursions across the Line-of-Control by Pakistan troops)

Onwards to Ladakh

From Srinagar it was just a 22hr bus journey to Ladakh, along the UN agreed Line-of-Control with Pakistan! However, the bus journey was fabulous, we were inching along a barely formed road, which just managed to cling to the mountainside and probably forged for military purposes. The bus climbed over numerous 4,000m high passes and then straight down through stunningly green valleys.

Whether scared or exhilarated nobody on the bus was untouched by the experience. It was amazing even though I had to hang on to my head over each bump and was very thankful for modern painkillers.

The journey was broken by a 6 hour sleep-over in the town of Kargil, the scene of the 2002 war between India and Pakistan. Getting of the bus was welcome but at 10pm, after 11 hrs travelling and knowing that we’re setting off again at 4.00 am it was hard to find the energy to shop around for a bed. We ended up in a hostel with wet bed linen and green slime over the walls of the communal “bathroom”. Thankfully we were saved at the last minute by a fellow traveller who’d managed to find something better up the road. What little sleep we had, however, was spent dreaming about bed bugs.

Lovely, Lovely Leh

After some 20 hours our first sight of the Indus Valley was captivating and greatly welcomed, as it heralded Ladakh and our destination the capital town of Leh.

Ladakh is a region in the state of Kashmir and Jammu but is tucked far away, up in the Himalayas in a corner between Pakistan and China. Rich in its own Buddhist culture very laid back and sunshine almost every day.

It was strange being surrounded by the insignia of Buddhism, including seeing Monks wandering around the town’s streets in their red robes and Oakley Sunglasses, often riding on the ubiquitous Royal Enfield motorbikes (which apparently are “Built like a gun and go like a bullet”).

Until the airport was built a few years ago, it was completely cut off for about 6 months of the year during winter months but copes very well with the number of tourists which flock there during its short summer

It had taken us so long to get there it was only sensible to spend some time enjoying this lovely town, even though at 3,500 meters the effects of altitude were being felt.

We had been in India for just over a week but very quickly realised that it is an amazing place. The people are lovely and for every encounter with something grim just around the corner there’ll be something else to make you smile.

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