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Published: September 19th 2006
ADVICE: Don't get sucked in by travel agencies in Delhi (especially Kashmiri houseboat owners) - they will chew you up and spit you out!
NEWS: I have a new fiancee - a gorgeous surfer we cut from a magazine - it's always nice to have a photo to ward off clingy suitors!
WHERE I'VE BEEN: Delhi - Srinagar, Kashmir - Leh, Ladakh
WHERE TO FROM HERE: ?? Plans always open to change - Dharamsala - Amritsar - RAJISTAN Bikaner, Jaisalmer, Jodhpur, Jaipur - Agra - Varanasi - NEPAL
Where to start? India. My first introduction was a Bollywood movie on the plane - an English girl travelling to India to shoot a film on the revolutionary movement, and her friends ended up losing their lives in the fight for freedom and truth. Heart rendering. Then the friendly Sikh sitting beside me on the plane with his turbain, the women in their colourful saris... I was tantilised already. I was a little bit nervous, a little excited arriving in Delhi. I read and re-read the paragraph in my guidebook about arriving in Delhi, and was surprised to find it quite hassle free leaving the airport - mind you, my flight arriving at 6.30am had conveniently been cancelled and I was put on a flight arriving at a perfect 10am!
So I jumped on a bus into the centre, immediately concious of the lack of women - finally one woman alighted the bus. I felt rather pleased with myself to have made it to the centre without being taken in by any scams. But, as I was trying to find my way to a hostel I had noted in my guidebook, a young boy approached me, swearing he wanted no money but just to practice his English. He took me to a travel agency - I was aware it was not the real tourist office as noted in my guidebook, and soon left the smarmy looking man after accepting a cup of tea. The next boy approached me. He seemed very nice, on his way to work at MacDonalds and took me to the 'real' tourist agency. This too was not the correct address of the government agency, but the agent I talked to seemed lovely, and immediately offered me a room in their house, free of charge, meals included. There were already two French girls there who had been up to Kashmir on the houseboats of these guys and done a trek, so I took this as a good recommendation. I just wanted to sleep, and they took me there in a tuktuk and gave me a room.
So the first few days in Delhi went smoothly. I spent my time in the house, in the agency, and being shown around the sights courtesy of them, in their car with driver, not paying for a single thing. The French girls introduced me to Indian culture - they never use cutlery (and didn't even have enough in the house to eat the French meal the girls made) and even ate apple crumble with their fingers - my fingers have a distinct yellow tinge from all the curry! They never use toilet paper but wash with water - waterless soap comes in handy!
I saw the Red Fort (where a man put his hand on my breast as he shook hands with me - luckily I had learnt a bit of Hindi to tell him to get lost!), the Mosque - where fortunately I met the Polish couple who were also staying in the house, as to climb to the lookout point you had to be accompanied by a male (!!), Ghandi's grave and a Hindi temple. The amazing thing about Delhi, is that it is so chaotic in the hustle and bustle of the multitude of streets and markets, but as soon as you go into a park or a temple etc., suddenly it is incredibly serene and peaceful.
Mustafah, the brother I had originally talked with who was planning to go up to Kashmir and suggested I join, ended up not being able to take holidays, and suddenly my plans to head up with them to Kashmir were handed over to the other brother, Ajaz, who was more the salesman type. I ended up agreeing to a plane flight up to Srinigar to stay in their houseboat and then a trek, followed by a jeep tour to Ladakh, the so-called 'Little Tibet'. Ajaz was to join this tour, and talked me into paying his price 'B' so I could join them on the jeep tour of the monastries in Ladakh. He told me before I left that I should wait for him in Srinagar, no matter if I stayed a few extra days on the houseboat - he would cover everything - before starting the trek.
So, after the third night in Delhi - as two more couples arrived, they were given my room and I basically had space on the living room floor with their houseboy/slave (I mentioned my reserves about this 14 year old boy working all day and night to Ajaz, who told me he was lucky to have this opportunity given he was from the boarder of Pakistan and India). As Ajaz and his American friend (and the lovely Polish couple to begin with) stayed up talking till about 5, I didn't get much sleep, but the conversation was interesting - and when I mentioned my response to women's treatment in India, eg. Ajaz's wife had not even been to the office, Ajaz came back with a reply saying that at least they had held onto their traditions in this country. Fair enough. Still, I'm not convinced about Muslim treatment of their women. Far from it.
The next day the Polish couple, an Israeli couple, and I all took a plane to Srinigar - one of the most heavily guarded airports on the planet! It was lovely to be greeted by a jeep, and taken straight to the most heavenly houseboats, made from intricately carved wood, overlooking the incredibly peaceful lake Nagin (next to the less peaceful lake Dal, the larger of the two). I was in heaven! Unfortunately, it rained solidly for the next three days, but we were nevertheless amused - taken on a tour of the city, up to the Mughil fort on the hill dating back to the 16th Century where the voices of praying Muslims drifted up (we were searched and paseport details were registered while a rifle pointed out from sandbags directly at us), to a gorgeous temple adorned with gorgeous paper mache walls, to a mosque - huge, empty interior filled with hundreds and hundreds of carpets for praying, for a tour of the Mughal gardens (lovely except for the persistant rain), and the infamous carpet shop.
The man in the carpet shop saw I wanted to bring back a momento to Australia, and offered me tea, lunch, and all the time in the world while I looked at the millions of carpets being rolled out before my eyes. The silk from Kashmir is from silkworms living in liberty, with 28 cocoons needed for 1 thread, and 4 threads making up each working piece of thread. A 4x6 feet carpet takes three years for two people working 5-6hours per day, 6 days a week to make. The pattern is written on a sheet of paper, and the people work from the written code. An incredible work of art. When the carpet faces you one way, it is a dark colour. When it is turned around, the colour changes and is much lighter. They are really beautiful. Needless to say, I cracked, and ended up spending a small fortune on a larger carpet - the only one with the colour and design I liked.
Ajaz did not arrive. The rain continued and we heard that it was raining all over India, with severe floods, flights cancelled etc. I was enjoying just relaxing on the houseboat, but we were told (a Spanish couple that had arrived and I) that we would leave the following day for our trek as it was not raining in the mountains. I had finally been faxed my itinerary which told me nothing. It had the wrong information - ie that I had come by bus, that the trek was to be a 6/7 day trek but there were marked 10 days of 'Trek' - and there were no details. Nonetheless, as Ajaz was not there, I had noone to talk it over with.
So the following day we left. Driving through the city is a feat in itself. The cars go whichever side of the road they like, and beep their horn like maniacs if there is anything remotely blocking their way. Dust abounding on the non-sealed roads, and a bumpy ride, it is tiring! The guys stopped to buy shopping on the way (all the shops are run by men - the women stay at home - how different to Bolivia!), including a chicken whose throat was slit before our eyes!! Then we got to the first river crossing the road. We stopped. Everyone got out. More and more people gathered by the river trying to work out whether the jeep would make it without being washed away! Finally, another, larger jeep came and attempted the crossing. It made it, so we crossed. The next river was impossible to cross, however, so we went back to stay in a hotel (that night I went out of my room to the toilet and the living room was filled with army guards - a common sight in Kashmir, but unnerving nonetheless!).
The next day the rain had stopped and we tried again. We got to a third river which had washed away the road completely, so horses were sent for to carry the gear, and we crossed the river by foot and walked the couple of kilometers to our first campsite in Naranag. We stayed there a few nights as the Spanish couple (who were conveniently 'married' to stop any unwanted advances by Ajaz and others... and later this story was extended to say she was pregnant and they had better not put them at any risk whatsoever - I tried not to laugh each time this was mentioned by one of our guides!!) fell sick and were tent ridden for a couple of days. During this time I tried to ward off the advances of one of the horsemen, also of Ajaz (we had stayed in his house with his lovely wife and little girl in Delhi) who eventually came to check that we were ok - he said he would stay the night if I would make room for him in my tent!!! We went fly fishing, and the lovely driver took me for tea in the gypsie houses - built from logs and mud, with half the house for living (sleeping, cooking on a woodfire mud stove, and eating), and the other half to house the cows!!! The gypsies were adorable, and I made friends through sign language (as they spoke no English) with a couple of the women.
Finally, a couple of days later the Spanish decided to go back and I headed up the mountain. A full day's slog up up and up, from the fertile valley by the river, through the towering pine trees, to an open expanse where we camped, with a gorgeous view on the 6000 odd meter (?) peak I was to trek to the bottom of the next day. But this time, I fell sick. And I spent the next day in bed! The guys that came with me were lovely - two 'mountain men' horsemen (I was horrified to see the large load the horses carried, one which was suckling a young foal, and vowed never to take horses again!), and the 'city-man' cook, who was the butt of all their jokes. I also fell madly in love with a gypsie guy (we spoke by exchanging glances as we had no language in common) and briefly considered staying there and herding sheep for the rest of my days... 😊😊 We visited a few more gypsie houses, had a good laugh when the woman's cough was even deeper than mine (with the smoke from the fire I could see why), and I enthralled them all with my camera - the little girl led me to her house to take a photo of all her family!! So different from Latin America where they all want money for a photo, here the most they ask for is for you to send them a copy (work to do when I return!).
After my day of rest I hiked up to the lake. It was a mamoth effort as I was still sick, and we managed to get some antibiotics from a passing French couple for my cold. I had run out of water at the top (the 1&1/2 hr hike took me 3!), and was thinking I would be unable to make it back down to the camp, when we met another group of camper's who offered us lunch, and who's guide actually spoke some English (one of their guides was my horseman's brother - families stick together in this country). I managed to work out, through him, what the heated discussion had been about the previous evening between the cook and the two horsemen. Apparently, the cook had been told it was a 7 day trek, and wanted to come down that day (they proposed doing the lake and going all the way down in one day - impossible in my condition!), but the others had talked him out of it. A problem to sort out with Ajaz on my return (I was actually supposed to be on a 10 day trek!!).
So, well fed and rested, and after some delightful conversation with the other English and American travellers, I headed back to the campsite, and we had a delightful last evening joking and talking. The next day I said goodbye to my gypsie boy, and we headed down the mountain. I was feeling ok until we got down to the bottom, and lay on the back seat of the jeep on the way back, exhausted. My room had been taken in the houseboat, surprise surprise, so they gave me a room in the house, and looked after me handsomely, including taking me to the doctor on the way for some antibiotics and other medicine (Going to the doctor in India is an experience - I walked in and sat down in the common room, with the doctor behind a counter, walls bursting with medicine. He came and popped a thermometer in my mouth, took me over to the door to look in my throat, and then handed me a pile of medicine!).
The next day I expressed my concerns to Ajaz about the lack of organisation of the Trek, my totally inadequate itinerary, and the lack of English of my mountain guides etc. He listened with a sympatic ear, but I don't know if he heard anything. He talked me into going to the mountains (they were going to hunt partriges, illegally of course). I said so long as I had the back seat of the car to lie in, and I could just stay in the guesthouse and rest. All promised. I was in the back seat with four people, driving through the dusty town, horns tooting, guys in the front chain smoking... my worst nightmare! I was livid, and gave Ajaz a piece of my mind when we stopped. He organised another jeep, and organised room service for me in the mountain 'retreat'. Their trek was a disaster. They were fined for hunting, and one Austrian girl went off on her own and couldn't find her way back. I wasn't surprised, and was soooo glad I hadn't gone with them!
I got back to the houseboat to find another delightful Spanish couple staying. The weather was gorgeous, and I was again enjoying the serenity of the lake, including a Shakira ride (the long boats with a man paddling you along). All was to turn sour, however. Ajaz was trying to sell the Spanish couple a trek, however they had neither the finances, nor the desire to go on a trek - they had been told by Mustafah that they could join him to Ladakh free of charge. As we chatted away in Spanish, Ajaz suddenly accused me of meddling in his business and trying to talk them out of it. Suddenly the atmosphere was horrid. I was told, again, there was no room for me in the houseboat as 'paying' customers were coming (what was I??!!!), and was moved to a room in the house (at least there I had a beautiful hot shower!). And I was to be put on a jeep for Ladakh the next day (I had been told I would go with Ajaz and the American, but it seemed things had changed!!). When I tried to talk to the owner of the house, Ajaz's uncle, I was met with hostility, and he made me write out all the services I had been provided with and sign the paper. There was no negotiation possible.
I stayed in the house, and the next day was put in a shared jeep with 7 other Indians. Rather than the promised two days with a stopover in Kargil, we did the journey in one day, leaving at 7am and arriving at 11pm. We passed the first Monastery after dark, and therefore saw nothing - so much for a tour of the Monasteries!! I was also suffering from the altitude at this stage, with a headache and nausea (Leh, our destination, is at 3500m) - a night halfway would have helped enormously (although after a good night's sleep I was fine yesterday afternoon). Also, I was given money for the four night's hotel which I had been promised in the package - not even enough to cover the first night in the hotel where I was dropped at 11pm!
The next day (yesterday), I met one of the men I had shared the jeep with - a shop owner on the main street. He asked how I was, and I told him the story of the Agency. He was not surprised, and said he had not wanted to talk to me the day before as some of the men in the jeep were friends of the same family. He knew the family and their office in Delhi, and said, quite frankly, that they were all bastards. I had paid way too much for the services I received, and many of the houseboat owners in Srinagar are untrustworthy. In fact, the Spanish couple in the houseboat had shown me a paragraph to this effect in the Lonely Planet (I think that next time I will ALWAYS use this guidebook - it has some fabulous information). Basically, they try to get you on the houseboat, and then try to sell you as many extras as possible. If they can't sell you a trek, they take you to a..... carpet shop (!!!) where they get a commission. The kind man took me to some carpet shops in Ladakh to compare prices and, I had indeed been ripped off (although I have seen nothing like the carpet I bought, and do not regret buying it 😊 - you live and learn from your mistakes!).
There is one recourse a traveller has, however - recommendation is the most powerful aid to tourism. I intend to write in to the Lonely Planet and complain (and write to the Agency and let them know I will take this course of action). For anyone travelling to Delhi, steer clear of 'Holliday Planners.Biz', 17 Janpath Bhawan, New Delhi, run by Farook Baktoo. For that matter, steer clear of ANY agency, especially those wishing to sell you a houseboat in Srinagar, Kashmir. Make sure you know the prices you should be paying for things and get a detailed itinerary before signing anything. Better to do it yourself.
On a brighter note, I am enjoying being on my own travelling again. What a wonderful experience! I met a lovely American yesterday who gave me a fabulous introduction to the town of Leh, and I joined him for a bit of Ladakhi cinema - a Ladakhi version of Bollywood, complete with Tibetan style outfits, singing and dancing. The film was great, albeit very basic from a cinematographer's point of view. A great way to take it easy the first day to acclimatise. He also recommended his guesthouse where I have moved - a bit of a hike from the center of town (20mins uphil... thank goodness I had acclimatised when I took my bags up last night!), but a lovely peaceful spot with a gorgeous gorgeous view of the stars and over the mountains, a lovely owner, and some friendly travellers staying (Shanti Guest House, just below Shanti Stupa, for anyone interested).
The region is also amazing. It is totally different from the rest of India (each part of India is like entering a new country - it is amazing the number of languages, religions and cultures that co-exist in the one country). You can really see the Chinese/Tibetan influence in the features of the people (and the people are delightful of character), and also in the food - one of the traditional foods here is 'momo' which is like the Chinese dim-sim! There is also a lot of Buddhism here, and one of the neighbouring temples is apparently run by the Dalhi Lama's brother. The scenery is amazing - a lunar landscape with a few snowy peaks in the distance, and mud temples, palaces and houses built into the rock clifs, prayer flags and wheels abundant. The American suggested I skip Nepal and just go trekking in the Himmalayas here!
So, I am planning to stay here for a good few days to a week until I am completely well again and over the remnants of my cold... what better refuge in India! Then I'm thinking of heading back down to Dharamsala (McLeod Gang - home of the Dhali Lama) and west into Rajistan - land of temples in the middle of the desert... it looks fascinating, and I think my being taken in by the Agency in Delhi will stand me in good stead - Rajistan is notorious for more of the same!
The photos I've taken are gorgeous, but the computers here aren't the best and I think I won't be downloading any for a while... sorry!!
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frederic
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Roman
J'espère que tu vas publier tes mémoires. Bisous de la famille