KASHMIR, SRINAGAR & PAHALGAM | LETTERS & PICTURES FROM ASIA, 1988 | PART 9

 In 1988, when I was eighteen years old I set off from New Zealand to Asia on an adventure. Accompanying me was my high school friend David. We were inspired by Tintin comics and National Geographic magazines. Although we had never actually been overseas before, we wanted begin our travels somewhere more exotic than the usual teenage Kiwi destinations. Our plans were vague - first Nepal, then India - then, after that, as far as our meagre holiday savings would take us. Once on the road, I wrote detailed and mostly illegible aerogrammes home, which my father kindly typed up to make readable for the rest of the family. My father also generously lent me his Pentax Spotmatic camera to ensure I got some good pictures. 

This is the ninth letter, sent from the Himalayan region of Kashmir (Srinagar & Pahalgam). Read the very first letter from Kathmandu here.

25 May 1988
Pahalgam, Kashmir,
India

Dear Everyone,

First I must apologise for the gap in writing the letters, but as soon as I arrived here where Russell (a relative from New Zealand) has his trekking company, I was whisked off into the high alpine meadows of Kashmir. I had written three-quarters of a letter to you, but it got somewhat destroyed in the process of crossing a glacier, or perhaps a river; I don't really know!

The natural beauty of Kashmir is beyond description, but I will make a humble attempt. Strange, proud, glistening white mountains soar into the deep blue sky, surrounding fresh green spring meadows filled with pink and white flowers; in the feilds ponies, goats and sheep graze, herded by the handsome shepherds. The valleys are alive with the sound of running water from the snow which is melting in the warmer weather; the only other sounds are those of the hundreds of colourful birds and the women singing in rounds as they work in the fields. The Kashmiri people are the most beautiful that I have ever seen. The women wear much jewelry and colourful clothes, their crow black hair is plaited into many hundreds of strands, framing their perfect faces and piercing eyes. The men are very proud and their dark eyes also have much force in them; they all have beards and some wear turbans and some little white skullcaps. Despite the slight scariness of their intensity, they are very friendly people. The city people are very different; many are hustlers and tricksters! This all sounds very romantic and perhaps unreal, but it's true.

Russell is a nice man; a pleasant sort of guy. I spent one night at Srinagar, then came on here. Almost as soon as I arrived at his hotel the Brown Palace he sent me off on a five day trek up the valley with two guides and three typically Dutch guys. It was free of charge, which was great. The trek was a complete luxury; the guides cooked delicious meals with such things as jelly for pudding. The ponies carried all the luggage, so it was very easy. I don't think that I would like to do this kind of trekking all the time, but I really enjoyed it just this once.

The first few days were spent trekking up a beautiful valley and camping in meadows where we could watch the mountains and swirling clouds turn pink in the evening sunset. The nights were cold and it would often rain and thunder, only to be clear again in the morning, dew shining on the rocks and grass.

I can proudly tell you that I was the first person to climb a particular un-named mountain of merit-able height and difficulty this spring, in fact this year. It was about 4200m. There was a lot of snow on this mountain and climbing it involved wading through deep snowfields, scaling steep rocky faces, traversing narrow snow ridges and climbing almost vertical slippery walls of snow. I was quite far ahead of the others, two of whom were quite scared, and felt great excitement as the white untouched curve of the summit came into view. Followed by one of the guides, I stepped on to it and felt as though I should plant a flag.

There is something about the conquering of the elements and oneself that makes one feel so good. The struggle and then the arrival. I could see all the way to the Zanskar Range in the east and the Pakistan range in the north-west. Climbing this mountain felt far better than climbing Kalar Pattar on the Everest trek. Whilst gazing upon the world I thought of my life and how small it was I also thought about my family and friends and how much I cared and loved them. I was wondering what they were doing as I stood on top of this snowy mound.

After spending about an hour on the summit, the real fun began. On the other side there were steep snowfields and we had brought plastic bags with us with the intention of sliding down. At high speed we all careered down the vast expanses of whiteness, at times colliding and rolling through the snow getting completely drenched. It was great fun and we all laughed till out stomachs ached. We arrived back at the camp thoroughIy wet and tired.

26 May 1988
Srinagar

I am now sitting in the shade on the verandah of a Victorian-style houseboat, the brown Jhelm River flows lazily by and a brightly-painted shikira paddles by, upsetting the golden reflection in the water.

I am travelling alone now. At the time of my last letter, David was still in Delhi. I got a letter from him today saying that he has decided to fly to London on June 4th. He is in Ladakh for a few days and then I will meet him here soon. In some ways this is a pity but I am also pleased because I have more freedom now.

So, as you will have gathered, I am back in Srinagar, a city where shambolic old wooden houses lean precariously over the river, houseboats float quietly in Dal Lake, and people lazily sun themselves on the boat roofs watching the herons and kingfishers fly from the green trees across the shimmering water. At night hundreds of yellow lanterns shine upon the black glassy water and the only sound is that of the oars of a lone boatman paddling his way home. The night sky is clear and you can see the great dark outlines of the distant mountains. Kashmir is not India but Central Asia; it shows in the people and buildings, which are quite
different.

My intention is to stay in Srinagar perhaps a week, go to some other hill stations, return to Pahalgam to visit Russell, then go up to Ladakh. I still want to go trekking there and I'm sure that I'll find someone there to go with.

Srinagar
Postcard
2 June 1988

Dear Everyone,

I am sitting in a restaurant; it's a grey day outside. Today I went and bought all the things that I will need for trekking; a compass, map, cooker, and other stuff.

Unfortunately I didn't get to meet David; I left a message at the post
office, but he hasn't turned up.

Well, the last few days have been spent lazing aboard my houseboat; I have changed to another one on Dal Lake. There are always lots of ’boat- to-boat’ salesmen climbing aboard trying to sell you all sorts of stuff for very high prices. There are supermarket boats and plenty of other forms of entertainment. The Srinagar Kashmiris are tricky, you have to be very careful.

Tomorrow I go back to Pahalgam with this German guy; I think that I want to go for a camp to test my stuff. After this I will return to Srinagar, phone you, and then go to Ladakh. The road isn't open yet so I might have to cross on foot, we'll see when I return.

Srinagar
Postcard
8 June 1988

Dear Everyone,

I have just returned from Pahalgam, and the parcels of tape and film have not turned up - I wonder if they will? There is a big market reselling film and if you look at the parcels in the Poste Restante, they have all been opened to see if there is anything valuable in them. Anyway, I asked Russell to forward them if they did arrive.

I can't phone you as I promised, unfortunately, because it is not possible to make international calls from here. It takes up to four hours to put a call through to Delhi. It's a real pity.

Well, not much has been happening lately. It has just been pouring with rain and I have been lying around in Pahalgam reading a fat book called ’The Story of Philosophy’ and having intellectual conversations with a German scientist. It has actually been good.

Tomorrow I leave for Leh but have to cross the pass on foot as there is still a lot of snow because of the rain, but I think that it should still be possible.

I sold the tent at a profit; this sounds crazy but my pack was way too heavy with the cooker, tent and all. When trekking I will just stay in huts, gompas and with the locals. Perhaps I will have to sleep out occasionally, but apparently you can get accommodation most of the time.

I have to leave for Leh now or otherwise I won't have enough time to do all the things that I plan. Basically I will be walking most of the time. I leave on one trek on the 14th so as to arrive at a monastery (Hemis) on the 23rd where there is to be a large festival. From there I continue back to Leh, although there is a road. Next I go to Kargil and walk down to Manali. By then my visa will have run out and I will return to Delhi by 28 July. From there, who knows?

Read the next letter sent from Ladakh here

Read the previous letter sent from Mcleod Ganj here