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Published: September 20th 2008
As you've probably already guessed, the saga with Bob continued. After the bus arrived in kargil and I met Claudio at the Jammu & Kashmir (J&K) Tourist Bungalow, we drove down to the mechanics to see what the verdict was. It wasn't so good.......not terminal, but not good. He thought the crank pin and connecting rod had broken and needed replacing. Worse still, he couldn't fix it and recommended I go to a place in Srinigar to have it done......JK motors. That meant another truck ride for Bob and another bus for me, unless I decided to go on the truck with Bob.
The mechanic was trying to be helpful by organising a truck for us that night. He found one, with about 6 Kashmiri guys on board......all openly staring at me. Needless to say, there was no way I was going on that truck. In fact, I was so tired, (having spent the previous night and half that day the on the bus from Zanskar Valley back to Kargil) I couldn't even face another bus journey that night. I just needed a good night's sleep and some time to think about whether or not to go to Srinigar.
I wasn't sure about going to Srinigar......... for many reasons. While in Leh there was a lot of news about unrest in Kashmir, between Muslim Srinigar and Hindu Jammu. The current issue (I say that because I'm told they've been ongoing for many years now) was a dispute over a peice of land in Kashmir which the government sold to the Hindu Shrine Board. It was a pilgramage site which many Hindu Pilgrims visited every year. There's a law which goes back many years, stating only Kashmiris can own land in Kashmir. The sale of this land therefore caused uproar from the muslim Kashmiris.....so much so that in the end the sale was reversed. This then caused violent protests from the Hindus in Jammu. I don't think they need much of a reason to start the disputes between Jammu & Kashmir. As I said, they've been going on for decades now. We'd heard a fair bit about what was happening in J&K on the news while in Leh. There had been gun fights between protesters and police in Kashmir, and a hand grenade thrown onto a bus filled with Hindu Pilgrims on the Jammu Kashmir road. Additionally, I'd heard from other bikers that the people in Kashmir didn't take too kindly to women riding motorbikes. Apparently, there had been some girls literally 'stoned' while driving bikes there. Amongst all that, I didn't know that I wanted to be dealing with a mechanic in Srinigar. I'll explain that comment a bit further. Here in India, it can be hard work being a girl with a bike. It's a bit like the days before womens lib. A lot of people over here aren't used to women being independant, let alone riding bikes. That's not to say I'm the only girl riding a bike over here......I've met other tourists like me riding bikes, but never a local woman. Not suprisingly, therefore, it can be a bit hard to be taken seriously. On top of that, mechanics are notorious for ripping of tourists. Personally, I like to watch the mechanic strip the bike, locate the problem and then fix it, as a few people I've met have had mechanics strip their bike of good parts and replace them with old knackered ones because they weren't there to witness the work. On top of all this, with Kashmir being Muslim the problems associated with being a woman on a bike would probably apply 2 or 3 fold. All in all I didn't fancy it much. My preference was definitely going back to Leh.
Cloud definitely wasn't going back to Leh. There wasn't a hope in hell of persuading him. He had his mind set on Srinigar and and tried to persuade me to go with him. 'The mechanic in Leh won't open the engine right up to fix it'; 'what will you do in Leh, you've already been there'; 'there aren't any problems in Kashmir now, we've not heard anything in the news for ages'; 'I'll deal with the mechanic for you, you can stay at the hotel if you like and I'll do all that'; and best of all ' they do barbequed lamb kebabs in Srinigar'. Having been on either a vegetarian or mutton diet for a while now, the last one was pretty tempting!
All that considered though, my preference between Leh and Srinigar was definitely Leh. I just had a gut feeling that the mechanics in Srinigar would be a nightmare and I didn't like to rely on Cloud to sort my bike out. I was worried about what he'd said about the mechanic in Leh not being able to open the engine though. I couldn't believe there would be a mechanic who wouldn't open an engine, after all that's what they do isn't it? You never know in India though and I didn't want to get all the way back to Leh to find I had to go all the way back to Srinigar to get Bob fixed. The only way I could find out was to contact them, but they weren't in the phonebook. The only way I had of getting it was to try emailing a friend who may still be in Leh to see if he could get a number for me. It was a last resort but worth a try.
Unfortunately, Cloud wasn't prepared to stay in Kargil more than two nights. It was a pretty depressing place to be.....the only upside we found was a bakery that sold fab sponge cake for 15 ruppees (__!__). Also I guess he thought he may hang around an extra day and then I may end up going to Leh and he to Srinigar anyway. Hence he got up at 5am monday morning to head to Srinigar on the bike. I was a bit disappointed he couldn't wait an extra day to see if I got any reply from my email re the Leh mechanic, but could kind of understand his need to get out of Kargil. I'd had enough of it too. It was a very quiet morning though that morning. I suddenly felt pretty alone......with a broken bike.......in Kargil. As I said, Kargil has to be one of the worst places I've visited in India. There is nothing there. It's incredibly depressing. Having been there, you'd be glad to be living almost anywhere else in the world!
There was still no response the next day from Leh. I didn't even know if the guys I'd emailed were still there to get a number for me, or even when they'd next be likely to check there email.....if they were still in Nubra valley where they'd headed, they wouldn't be able to log on til they got back. I didn't want to stay indefinitely in Kargil waiting a reply that may or may not come, so bit the bullet and decided to go to Srinigar.
That only left to sort out a truck for Bob and to get the bus ticket. I thought we'd probably have burnt our bridges with the mechanic. He had been really helpful, but we'd been late going there the morning before not realising he was closed that day and was going there specially to meet us........ooopss. Hence, I didn't think I'd have much luck asking him for help again and headed down to the truck stand to see if I could get a truck sorted out myself. It was a huge depot with at least 50 trucks there. Surely one of them would be going to Srinigar and be willing to give Bob a lift. How hard could it be?! I was shitting myself though. When we arranged the ride back from Zanskar, you could tell the drivers preferred talking with Cloud than me. They spoke to me, don't get me wrong, but they were definitely more comfortable 'man on man' as it were. Anyhow, within 5 minutes I think I had about 20 drivers crowded round me. Guess the advantage of being a woman is that everyone stares, and when one stares they all stare. Hence pretty soon most of the depot knew I was there and knew I was needed to get a bike to Srinigar. Although I'm pretty uncomfortable in that situation, it worked. When one guy didn't want to go below 2000 ruppees, another one did, and eventually Bob had his ride that night for 1500.
After agreeing the price, I took the driver back to the mechanics to meet Bob. The mechanic was pretty suprised I was on my own organising the truck for Bob. That was good really, because he then couldn't do enough to help.....which proved invaluable. First, he spoke with the driver, who was concerned about the police checkposts. He didn't want a bike on the back of his truck without the paperwork and I wasn't happy about giving the paperwork and the bike to the driver.....as you can imagine! Hence the mechanic agreed to take me up to the checkpost in Kargil, with the paperwork, and clear it with the guys there. Secondly, he arranged loading the bike for 4pm that evening and arranged the drop off point in Srinigar. All of which would have been pretty hard or me on my own with the language barrier. What a star!
Anyhow, that done, the mechanic gave me a lift back to the hotel to get Bob's papers and then we headed up to the police checkpost. When we got there, what I assumed would be simple, wasn't! It turned out the last stamp in Bob's papers was in 1985 or thereabouts! That's the thing with Enfields. They're notoriously tourist bikes....the locals prefer the honda and yamahas which are lighter and more economicle. Hence the enfields get bought and sold between tourists primarily and tourists don't tend to bother with things like updating paperwork. Bob obviously hadn't been owned by a local since '85! I tried to explain this to the policeman who, don't get me wrong, was friendly enough, but I was pretty sure this was going to be a baksheesh moment. Once again though, the mechanic saved the day. I'm not sure what he was saying, but he rambled on to the guys for five minutes or so and then indicated to me it was time to go. When I got back on the bike I said 'is it ok?' expecting him to say no. He was like 'no problem', just copy your passport and visa and write a letter saying the bike is yours and being transferred to Srinigar with the driver, and give all that to the driver when we load the bike. How easy was that.......no baksheesh.......'no problem'! I love that phrase in India. Nothing's a problem over here. .....on some days anyhow.......on other's, nothing's easy!
That done, all that was left was organising a bus ticket. The only seat left was back seat, which is the worst, but c'est la vie. It had to be done. That left just about time to check my mail to see where to meet Cloud in Srinigar, copy my passport and write the letter for the driver and then back down to the mechanics to load the bike on the truck.
It's always a sad moment seeing your bike going on the back of a truck. Some people call it 'the ride of shame'. Personally, I don't believe it was a ride of shame for Bob. More my shame than his. I should have turned back before we crossed the pass in Zanskar. I knew there was something up with the bike, but I didn't listen to my gut feeling and pushed on. Big lessons learned. The guys loading were pretty good. Not as good as the drivers down in Zanskar.....they had Bob trussed up like a chicken in no time - there was no way he was moving anywhere in the back of that truck. These guys took a bit more time and Bob probably had a bit more play, but he was good enough. Not enough movement to be worried about. There's only so many instructions a girl can give to a muslim guy without him getting completely pissed off with you......and it's probably best not to piss off the guy who's driving off with your bike in 5 minutes! That done, it was just the obligatory photos.......proof of your bike going on the truck etc. These guys even posed in the truck with Bob. I was pretty comfortable they had every intention of dropping Bob in Srinigar as we'd agreed. When we'd done, the truck gave me a lift back up towards the hotel which was a good couple of km up from the mechanic. The drivers seemed nice enough, but I was glad I was getting on the bus......who knows quite 'how nice' they'd be when stuck in a small cab with 3 of them overnight! :O) I guess I could always have got in the back with Bob. I love my bike afterall.........but maybe not that much :O)
I went for dinner in a Tibettan restaurant I'd seen in the highstreet, but never tried. It was actually quite nice........relatively speaking! Funny, you always find places on your last day somewhere. I met a couple of girls and a guy who had come from Kashmir to Kargil, on their way to Leh. From what they said, Srinigar was currently ok, as in no real problems to speak of. Jammu was the place where it was 'kicking off' so to speak. One of the girls and the guy had been in Jammu, and everywhere was closed on strike. Even the restaurants. The poor girl had literally starved for over 24 hours because her hotel didn't do food and she didn't know where to go that was open. It was reassuring knews about Srinigar though. I wasn't fussed about going to Jammu anyhow. I was primarily going to get the bike fixed. If, after that, all was ok, then maybe see a bit of Kashmir, who knows.
After dinner there was nothing to do but wait for the bus. I went back to the guest house, where they'd let me lock my bags in the cupboard under the stairs, sat and chatted to the guy ('chatted' being a term used quite loosely.....he didn't speak much english, and I none of the local Kargil dialect!) who looked after the place overnight. Ten o'clock didn't take long to come and it was time to head up to the bus. It wasn't far, the tourist bungalow in Kargil is right behind the bus station.
When I got to what I thought was the bus, I checked with a young guy, who I thought was one of the drivers sidekicks (normally at least one of them on a bus) if it was going to Kargil. When he said 'can I see your ticket please' in a really put on formal voice, I knew he was taking the piss and was just another passenger! Joke over, I got up on the roof and tied my bag and various other bits and peices (amazing what I'd collected just having the bike.....helmet, petrol containers and god knows what else!) so they didn't escape half way to Srinigar, and found my seat. My actual seat was taken, but I wasn't too fussed as I took the middle seat on the back row instead. That way at least you have legroom. In hindsight I'm not so sure this was a good thing on the back seat. It may have been better to be able to jam yourself into your seat with your legs on the back of the seat infront, in order to minimise the distance between your arse and the seat every time you went over a bump. Believe me, in these mountain roads there are many bumps, and on the back of an indian bus at night, you don't get much sleep. On top of the rollercoaster effect going on, there was only 1 other woman on board the bus and no other tourists. All locals. The guy sat next to me turned out to be 'super lech' who didn't say anything, but had 'wandering hands', a bit like Mr Tickle, but I don't think tickling was on his mind........or maybe it was, who knows!! :O) After an hour or so I was seriously wondering if going in the truck with Bob would have been a better bet. I then lost it completely and shouted at the guy 'would you keep your f****** arms and legs to yourself' forceably pushing him back into his own 'space' (again a term loosely used as they'd managed to sell 6 tickets for the back row where there only appeared to be 5 seats!). Raising your voice normally works, and this seemed to have done. Not that it increased the space between us, but at least I didn't have his legs rubbing up and down mine for the rest of the journey. That journey has to be the worst one i've done in India. Along with Mr Tickle next door, there was the constant bucking bronko effect and the heat which had every item of clothing sticking to you and the smell of every person on that bus filling your nostrils for most of the journey. Thanks to my ipod, I survived!
On reaching Srinigar, I was met by two guys trying to sell me a room in a houseboat. It took a lot to persuade them that I had a houseboat already....a friend of mine was here already and he'd already got us onto a houseboat, which we were more than happy with and had no desire to change. Eventually they got the message and agreed to give me a lift to Dal Lake (where the houseboats are) from where the bus had dropped us for 50 rups. I didn't realise that meant the 3 of us, my backpack and all my newly aquired, bike related luggage, on the back of a honda 150. I'll tell you what, it's pretty good for your stomach muscles carrying a heavy backpack on the back of a bike when you're half hanging off the back of the seat! We made it though and on the way I got a quick lowdown on the city sites as we passed them.
Having reached the lake, I tried to follow the directions Cloud had given me to the houseboat. I stopped a few times to ask, but eventually saw Vasilya parked on the edge of the lake, right by a door, resembling the description of a door in the directions......bingo. The door was locked, so I put my bags down, happy to wait......it was afterall only about 7 in the morning. The guy in the shop right next door though obviously didn't think I should wait and began banging......no probably hammering on the door as though there was some crisis going on outside. Needless to say, when someone came to open the door, I was really embarrassed, thinking 'that's a good start to the guest / host relationship then'! They didnt' appear to mind too much though and soon had my stuff on the boat, hot water heater on (they must have noticed a bath was well needed....I didn't even have to ask!) and breakfast infront of me. Fab, this was looking good after all.
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Jackie Saunders
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Hi Hunny !
Hi Hunny. Love it !! Your writing is brill and really look forward to reading your blogs. I wonder if you are in Thailand yet ? Lots of love and hugs hunny, thinking of you and what adventures you are up too now ! Jxxxxx