Richard's Travel Blog

It’s a two day drive from Leh to Srinigar. After stopping for the night in Kargil, we left at 4 AM for Srinigar because the one lane road through the pass is open in each direction every other day, and we had to be going our way at a certain point by 7:30. We stopped in a town just before the road dropped down into Kashmir proper for breakfast. I was checking out the places in this Shiite town and settled on one with a poster of Iran’s ayatollah in the window. I figured this is the main road and they see all kinds of tourists, and I felt like doing my we’re-not-all-like-George-Bush thing. That worked out fine, as it always does. What I’m getting at is the inside of this restaurant had another big poster of the ayatollah, this time with a broad border advertising Kit Kat chocolate bars, like the calendar beside it with a movie star surrounded by an Ultra-Brite border. Nestle’ knows what they are doing. It seems like every time I learn something about the world, the world seems wierder and wierder. The other interesting thing was the political map of India with Jammu and Kashmir in Pakistan.

I’m staying in a houseboat on Dal Lake in Srinigar, and the boat guy is waiting for me. Tomorrow I’m starting out on a three day shakira (like a gondola) “trek” around the lakes, sloughs and rivers that typify the landscape around here. I’ll write again when I get back. Bye for now.

Sitting with the monks at the Tiksay monastery was great, though much different than I expected. The only Tibetan Buddhist service I’d ever been to was in San Francisco. It was all business. Everybody was reverent. This morning I had a hard time telling when it began. Many of the young monks and novices were horsing around and talking when the drums, horns, cymbals, bells and chanting started. And it kept on while the prayers were being offered. I’d say there were about 50 men and boys in robes, and about a third looked like they couldn’t care less. That said, with permission, I took a picture, recorded some chanting and music, and settled in. I must admit, I’m used to sitting on a pillow, and after an hour of sitting on a rug, I bailed and fixed my legs the rest of the way. Despite my wondering what the monks were doing being monks like THAT, it was an experience I have been looking forward to having someday for a long time.

I learned that in Leh, not all high speed connections are created equal. This place has satellite, so I was able to write yesterday and will try to post some pictures. Let’s see how it goes.

This is a beautiful headwater of a river I don’t know the name of which drains into the Indus. The mighty Indus is about as big as a fork of the American River when it flows through Leh.

Here is the freezing cold tent camp in Sarchu we spent the night in on the two day drive from Manal to Leh.

If you’re wondering what it looks like at the top of the highest pass at about 18,000 ft, here it is. See those mountains in the distance. Leh is in a valley between here and there. “There” is the ridge that generally marks the Chinese border.

Leh, capital of Ladakh, from the roof of the 17th century Leh Palace.

The crumbling Leh Palace. It’s being restored, with the helpof the British. The Brits, Indians, and Ladakhis all want it done a different way. I think they ought to do it the Brits’ way, which is not to repaint over the old frescoes. The Ladakhis want it repainted the same, but covering the original, so it will look brand new. The Indians want whatever is cheap. Or so that’s what I was told.

Morning prayers at the Tiksay monastery. I’m sorry about the blur. I had to take it in existing light.

Monastery in Tiksay, about 20 km east of Leh.

A few of the buildings, like the prayer hall and probably the senior monksquarters, are in good repair. Most of thebuildings are like this. These are monk’s quarters.

There’s a book called “A Cave in the Snow” by Vicki Macenzie.   She a woman who meditated for 12 years in a cave above Manali at 13,200 feet, near Keylong. It’s quite a story. I thought of her as I passed Keylong on the way to Kinnaur. Only after spending a night in a tent with 5 blankets in sub-freezing temperatures on the way to Ladakh did I start thinking about her more. Then when I was visiting a monastery in Hemas, above which are many caves where people have been mediating for years, did I come to appreciate her story more than ever. Here I am with all my coats and socks, trying to keep warm after the sun goes down, able to eat and drink warm food and shower with semi-warm water. What a magnificent person she must be.

The elevation of Leh is about that of her cave, maybe a little less, as trees grow. I don’t remember what it says in Lonely Planet. The winter is closing in fast. The roads will close to almost all vehicle traffic in the next 3 weeks. Where the creeks and run-off runs cross exposed areas is frozen in the morning. Soon it will freeze hard, and when the snow falls, people will hunker down for the winter. Right now it’s nice during the day. It’s after the “season”, so the tourist trade in Ladakh is closing down rapidly. There’s a Tibetan Buddhist festival which ends Sept 15, and after that the tourists  leave in droves. This leaves the place to the few that are here now and the locals. Even most of the Kashmiri’s leave for the warmer climes of Srinigar and other lower elevations areas of Kashmir.

The drive here was spectacular. The route goes basically east from Manali up into the mountains, over 16,000 ft pass, then down to about 14,000 feet. I was mistaken in my last blog entry. It isn’t 200 km to Leh from Manali. It’s 200 km to this valley floor, then over two more passes and 200 km more to Leh. So, given the poor roads, that’s as far as you can go in a day. It’s there. in Sarchu, where there are tents to sleep in overnight. There are a couple of tent dhaba’s, places with hot food serves, and nothing else. That was one long night. It’s worth it though. The visuals are spectacular. The upper part of Himachal Pradesh and into Ladakh is a moonscape with surrounding snow capped peaks.  Search it on the net for pictures. I’ll publish some once I get to a place with fast enough internet connection to do that.  I got here after the festival. The good news is it’s not crowded with foreigners. The bad is that some of the well known monasteries are not practicing monasteries anymore. They are more like museums with a few monks around. I went to Hemas yesterday with a couple of Australian women I kind of hooked up with here. Everything except the main chaple was closed up. i wanted to see it’s famous wall sized tangkas, but they are in the closed prayer hall. Also closed was a monastery built into a cave. Oh well. The monks have moved to the monasteries, called gompas here, in Leh, to Tiksay and Shey near here, and as far as Mysore, in south India near Bangalore. Tomorrow I going to take a taxi to Tiksay to sit with the monks chanting prayers, called puja, at 6:30. I’m so humbled I don’t know how to get through this. I’m told it will be alright, just sit in the back and they’ll be fine. I’m sure they will, but will I? It’s another practice opportunity, I keep telling myself. That will last about an hour. Then I’ll go to Shey, between Leh and Tiksay, where there is another practicing monastery, and try to behave myself. I should be back here by about 10.

The people here are quite different from the people of western Kashmir. They are Tibetan, for one thing, as this is a southwestern part of the Tibetan plateau within India. Secondly, they are Buddhist. Buddhists only comprise about 1% of the Indian popuation. That said, there are western Kashmiri’s here. In fact, evening prayers are being called from the mosque as i write. They dress distinctly, speak Ladakhi, and are generally much friendlier and live more slowly. Ties are changing though. Most in Leh dress like westerners. This is happening quickly in India in general. They are acquiring city habits. The people in the countryside often have electricity in their stone houses or yourts. Even the yurt roofs are often now army surplus parachutes. Some don’t like the change, but change happens. It’s the way of the world.

This internet place is closing down, so I’ll have to see if I get lucky tomorrow and can bring up my site. The connections are so slow I couldn’t do it at all yesterday. Until then, or whenever….

Leh is the principle city in Ladakh, which is a little southwestern corner of the Tibetan plateau in Kashmir. It’s only a couple hundred kilometers, but takes two days to get there. I don’t know about internet connections there. Lonely Planet says there’s unreliable dial-up for a price. Sounds like it won’t be able to handle my site in anything less than a kalpa. I will write if and when I can, though. It could be a week or more again. So, until whenever, my best to all of you.

I’ve been asked about the people I’ve seen and encountered. That’s such a big task, our cultures are so different. The cultures within the Indian culture are so different. People I’ve met… Well, let me start with my driver, Rakesh.

That’s Rakesh on the right. On the left is Podamsa, a Nepali who ran the guesthouse in Ratcham in the Sangla Valley. Rakesh was supplied to my by the government tourism office. He takes people on these long drives in his company’s taxi, mostly to this region and to Rajastan. He seems to be a real nice guy, though our cultures are so different, it’s hard to tell for sure. He sure has a lot of friends. I’m guessing that’s because he’s always going to these places and taking us to his prefered guesthouses, and then he’s left alone to socialize with whomever he’s gotten to know over the ten years he’s been doing this. He’s friendly, though his behavior toward me is so deferential it’s hard to say what our “relationship” is. It would be easier if he spoke more that a little bit of English. Anyway, I know he’s unmarried, lives in Delhi when he’s not working, has a degree in zoology but the money’s a lot better in driving, has incredible and daring driving skills, and always is eager to help, and has a kind look in his eye. He tries to be something of a tour guide. I guess most tourists want to see the temples, so he wants to take me to those. He always prays at the Hindu temples for a couple of minutes. He waits outside the Buddhist and Sikh temples. I’m almost temples out already, myself, except for the Buddhist ones. I’m good for a few monasteries in Ladakh. After that there won’t be many Buddhist sights.

Podamsa spoke much better English. What a relief. He also helped communicate some leftover thoughts Rakesh and I couldn’t pull off ourselves. He works this hotel in Sangla, then returns to Nepal with his savings to give to his parents and siblings. Apparently, after he’s run the gauntlet of border guards and police there, there’s not much left. He’s very friendly and curious. He guided us around the area at the end of the road in the Sangla Valley, past a town named Chitkul.

As for meeting the locals, I’ve met the people Rakesh and his friends and hotel guys he’s brought around or we’ve run into. The Kinnauri who live in the Kinnaur and Sangla Valleys are interesting. I have a hard time, though, pointing a camera at anyone, so I don’t have pictures I’m sure would be entertaining. The women are particularly interesting looking, with different dress from locale to locale. Even these women above cutting ogla, a grain with red leaves, are interesting. But I just can’t go up to them and shoot. They generally look so stern anyway. Take it from me that they look half Indian and half Tibetan, which they are. The one thing they have in common is they wear these round, mostly purple felt caps. If you want to see more about them, search “Kinnaur”.

This is a nicer Hamachal village house, with typical stone and wooden construction.

View up the Kinnaur Valley into the high Himalayas. This picture was taken from an elevation on about 10,000 feet, near Kalpa. The highest peaks in the distance, about 40 kilometers away mark the approximate border with China, what we still call Tibet.

This is the roadway, with many areas blasted out of granite.

These are kids hanging out on the roof of the house next door to my guesthouse in Ratcham. Aw, I got a flower on my veranda covering one of the kid’s heads.

People threshing wheat.

Traffic jam near Kalpa.

Kalpa is the time it will take to lift the veil of ignorance from the world. Once every seven years, Maya flies over the sacred mountains of the Himalaya. With each pass, her veil brushes over the mountaintops. After one kalpa, the mountains will be worn down to sea level. It has been calculated for this to take 4.18 billion years.

Kalpa is also a lovely village in the Kinnaur Valley of eastern Himachal Paradesh. It’s in the foothills of the Himalaya, at about 9500 feet. Mountain views from there are spectacular, with several peaks within not too many miles rising to about 19,000 feet. The rains of summer are nearly over, and the weather is still warm, reaching maybe 75 degrees. Flowers are in full bloom. Crops of grains and apples are being harvested. People are preparing for winter. There are even fewer tourists than during the hot months of May and June. I saw about six in the last week. It’s a simple life up there. There are no internet cafes, hence no entries into this blog or responses to your emails.

The roads, such as they are, are in poor condition, and driiving about is time consuming. When I said I’d write in (What did I say?) a couple of days, I didn’t yet appreciate the travel times involved and our staying three days in Kalpa and two in Ratcham in the Sangla Valley. Now I’m in the tourist town of Manali, way north of there, where there are loads of internet places.

I’ve been wracking my brain, trying to decide what I can say about the Kinnaur and Sangla Valleys and what we did. It’s come down to what it always comes down to. I can’t share it all, not even a significant fraction. It’ll be as many memories as I can carry around in my head. I’ll bore people with stories and descriptions till they don’t want to hear it and I feel one dimensional anyway. A few of the really vivid experiences that affect me personally will have to be listened to more often than I like. One gets driven to blab.

That said, here’s a synopsis of what’s happened. From Shimla, Rakesh and I headed into the mountains. For a while it was two lanes off and on, windy, but if it weren’t for the trucks, you could average maybe 30 miles per hour. Then it became mixed paved one lane/gravel/dirt. After Rampur, there is much less traffic. Finally you turn left off the main road, which is essentially a military road (permit required) looping close to the Chinese border and coming out and down to the north, and go a few kilometers to Kalpa. It’s all beautiful. I’ll post some pictures later tonight or tomorrow. I would have done it now, but I forgot my USB cord to connect to the computer.

  After Kalpa, we went back down the road a bit and up the Sangla Valley to the south. This, though with somewhat less spectacular views, was even prettier. Even though it is close to the Kinnaur, it gets a lot more rain. Hence it’s more green, and the colors of the crops and flowers are stunning. It’s also more walking friendly. MY trekking days are numbered, so it was wonderful to walk along the flats beside the Sangla River. Rosehips grow almost like Pyracantha. The principle crop there is a grain called ogla, and it has bright orange/red leaves. There is also mustard, to add yellow to the kaleidoscope. One can walk through this, watching the people hand cut and thrash the ogla, pick rosehips for yourself, and look up at the valley walls as they rise steeply to either side and the peaks of the high mountains about 40 kilometers east. We walked back on the high trail. It’s the same view you get from the car in many places, but walking makes it different. I saw a fox. There are black bears to, but they only come around at night, I’m told, to eat from the garbage, just like in the States.

I’ll be back later.

So far, for the most part, we’ve had a nice road trip. Most of the day before yesterday was spent fighting our way out of Delhi and the large cities north of it. The only long stop we made was at a lovely town in eastern Punjab, Chandigarh. Most of India, so far as I’ve observed, is quite poor, run down and dirty. Chandigarh has many large, well kept parks, and other signs of relative wealth, like not so much garbage, less abject poverty, mowed green traffic mediums, etc.. Anyway, we got out and walked in one of the parks for about an hour. It’s still lowland there, and hot, so I was for getting out of there. So we started making our way up into Hamachal Padesh. that was a slow go because it’s uphill and only two lanes. It got dark, which is really not a good time to drive, so we stopped at a roadside hotel. My room had a nice view out the window and a balcony view. In the morning we took a secondary road, which was way secondary, to Shimla. The good thing about that road was no trucks and few cars.

Anyway, we got here. You saw a couple of pictures on the last post. I’ve been walking around “The Mall” and doing this internet thing. Today my driver took me on a nice drive with nice views along the side of the mountain to a town called Naldehra. It’s basically at the top of that stretch of road. There’s a resort up there. We had already stopped to look at a couple of summer homes of rich royalty in the old days, and I was used to paying a little entrance fee to go in. This place wanted the equivalent of $8. I’m thinking this has got to be some kind of place! With communication between my driver and me spotty at best sometimes, I figured I’d see what it was about without trudging through our communication process. It turned out I had bought a horse ride. It was SO embarrassing. A guy walked the horse through hill and dale, with steep places and mud, while I rode. Oh well. I just let go of my ego as best as possible and enjoyed some really very pretty views. Up there is a gold course of all things. Hoo-boy, that’s a tough course. It’s all up and down, the fairways aren’t straight, and in places it’s about 20 yards wide.

After that we just got some lunch and he dropped me off at “The Mall”, where the internet places are, and I got help at a place recommended to me, and actually got that post with pictures done. But it wasn’t easy. The guy wanted to do it his way, which wasn’t working, and I had to let him try until he finally let me do it my way, the only way I know. Now I’m just wrapping it up for a couple of days while we go east to the Kinnaur and Sangla Valleys.

Talk to you in a couple of days.

Day by day, things are coming together. For months I’ve beeen struggling with learning how to take pictures with a digital camera, then with learning how to use the website my friend Renato set up for me. One of my last worries was would I be able to get words and pictures published on the road. Looks like this picture part has fallen into place.

The first picture is of Shimla in the state of Hamachal Pradesh, north of Delhi. Obviously, everything is up and down here. It’s in the foothills of the Himalayas at about 7000 feet elevation. Before World War II,the whole Indian government used to move here during the hot summer months in the capital then of Calcutta. I can see why. It’s so nice and cool here. I’m so glad I decided to escape the heaqt myself. I think I’m going to just bag the Ganges Plain until at least Diwali, which is the biggest Hindu holiday. Delhi may be a good place to be for that.

The second picture is of part of “The Mall”, a long pedestrian only shopping street in Shimla. Many tourists come here because it’s so pretty, cool, and on the way to other nice places.

Delhi wasn’t too bad, as seething megalopoli go, but I am so glad to be out of there. The things I think I’ll do there can wait.

The reason I never make plans is I always change them about two days into them. Here’s what happened this time. I got up and got to the train station at 7, tickets on the 7:40 to Shimla in hand. I was looking around a little bewildered, when a guy from the government tourist office asked me if I needed any help. I asked where the platform was for the train I wanted. He looked at my tickets and said the first train would never get to Kalka in time to make the transfer to the one to Shimla. We talked awhile about my travel plans, and he suggested I do it another way. So, not particularly liking to do everything the hard way and suppressing the urge to do it the Lonely Planet way, I went back to the office with him. One thing I’m learning is that the Indian national tourist office really is out to help you. And they have discounts on everything, if you do stuff through them.

In short, they described to me the effort I’d have to make to do what I want to do up north, the pitfalls, and the expenses. They convinced my to allow them to provide me with a driver who knows the areas, and a car for a month for $1330. Now, that’s a shocking amount, so I thought about it, thought about my clunky pack at 15,000 ft, about how many times I’ve handled all this myself and what I got out of it, and about the times I’ve allowed myself to be babysat and what I got out of those times. I had just gotten my first bum steer. So I decided to do it. I am now, again, a sahib with an ever differential manservant. I pay for my room. He sleeps wherever and keeps his expense money if he wants. So far, I’ve bought his food a couple of times, but a great meal only costs no more than $2 here. The rooms he gets because he’s a government guy are good. They are better than I would get on my own, with sit down toilets, hot private showers, etc., but they are only $8-$12, so I can deal.

It’s already been worth it to go with a driver. He doesn’t speak much English, but he’s been taking people up here and over to Rajastan for 10 years, and he knows where stuff is. He takes the best routes, stops whenever I want, suggests things to see and do, places to eat, etc.. I know so much more than I would have at this point, had I done it myself. And it will especially pay off once we’re in the Himalayan boonies.

We got to Shimla today. I’m going to save talking about where we went between Delhi and here until tomorrow, or when ever I can get to a computer again. I’ll spice this up with photos once I get to an internet place where someone speaks English and I can ask to hook up my camera. So far, the places are manned by kids who don’t seem to know anything. And the computers are crappy. I may be able to write tomorrow, as we’re going to drive around and come back here to sleep. Then for at least a couple of days, I may not be in places with internet.

Until then, as always, best wishes to you all. — Richard

Greetings. I got here last night after an uneventful 20 hours of flight time, and am starting to get my sea legs. It’s interesting how at first your safe zone is the area right around your hotel room. Then you walk up and down the street. Then you walk around the corner. Then, oh dear, you try an alley and get a little lost. That was my “adventure” last night. Last night I was a little leary of the food I was looking at, so this morning I ate the buffet spread at the hotel, which was pretty western-like. Milk curd could pass as cottage cheese, naan is like a fat tortilla, mashed potato and something fritters was familiar looking, as was the mango juice and tea bag tea. I also got myself oriented by taking a half day tour of Old Delhi, a big mosque and a big Hindu temple, a couple of museums, Mahatma Gandhi’s cremation site/park, and had a look-see at the monumental governmant buildings. After a nap I took a two-stroke “autotaxi” to the Connaught Place area of town, which is a fairly nice shopping and nightlife area. I just walked around. The next little step up in adventuring was to buy a spicy ground lamb kabob.

I went into that place because it looked clean and lots of people were getting take-out there, and because I liked the looks of the kabob one guy was eating. Turned out he is a tour operator and spoke english well. Lots of people talk to you on the street here. Usually they want something. But this guy was genuine, and he gave me some good advice about going to Ladakh, a southwestern portion of the Tibetan plateau in India. Little by little I’m getting my sea legs.

The day after tomorrow I’m going to Shimla, north of here, and the first step on the road to Ladakh. For $2 I let the guy at the hotel arrange the train rides. I have to transfer to a narrow guage railway in Kalka, but I’ll get there in one day. From there I’ll go to Manali. From there, it’s 2-3 days thrugh the mountains to Leh, the principle city in Ladakh. I’ll play it by ear from there. By mid-October it should cool down down here.

Best wishes to you all. Feel free to write or comment.