The Road to Kashmir is Paved With...Well, Nothing

The first stories I remember about India are from Kashmir - I'm not sure my travel partner would agree with this, I think she's trying to put Kashmir out of her mind. We arrived in Srinagar after a very long, very tiring, very dirtying journey from Leh via Kargil. I am no longer sure of just how many hours Hil and I, our two constant Kashmiri companions - the driver and his extremely Muslim-valued cousin, and our rotating companions - various vagabonds along the way, spent in that Jeep. I think it was supposed to be a 14-18 hour drive. It probably ended up in the 26 hour range. Luckily, our very friendly and opinionated Kashmiri lawyer friend had the amazing ability to talk constantly. And when I say constantly, I don't mean 40 minutes out of an hour; or even 50 minutes out of an hour - I mean 59.5 minutes out of an hour. Now multiple that by 26 hours. Yeah. Seriously luckily for us though, he spoke to his cousin and our randoms for some of the time; probably because Hil and I became a bit less receptive around hour number 8.

Now, it took so long for a couple of reasons:

First, we took a bit of a longish route so we could drop this English dude off in Lamayuru. This wouldn't normally have been a problem, except the road to get there was closed so we had to take the "alternate" route, which was up, up, up a mountain pass and down, down, down the other side, passing large trucks all the while. Really incredible scenery though, and it really didn't ever get old. I have numerous pictures of mountains to prove that I thought it was continuously breathtaking (see left!)

Second, the Indian army is, well, they're a bit incompetent. Let's just put it right out there. Their job is to maintain the roads, and protect India should Pakistan decide they want another crack at Kashmir. Heaven help them if Pakistan decides to invade. The roads do need maintaining - it's not a sit back, sip your tea and eat your rice while watching the cars go by kind of job, though this is how they seem to view it. It's snowy up there, and cold, and the roads are in really poor condition and there are landslides (Drass, a town we had to travel through is the coldest inhabited place in India!). We happened to get stuck behind a landslide, which I'll admit is better than getting stuck in a landslide. But this meant a solid 5 hours sitting and waiting. And waiting. And then...waiting some more! And then some more after that (see left - from left to right: some Indian dude, Sir Talks-A-Lot, Cousin of Sir Talks-A-Lot, some Indian dude, some creepy Indian dude). You probably get the idea. At first it was exciting. Hil and I jumped out of the Jeep and made snowballs and a little snowman friend and soaked up the snow-covered mountains. And then I realized I had to pee. And then I looked at my surroundings. Usually, I'm not really a prude when it comes to squatting wherever, but we happened to be on a fairly straight road, and there were trucks as far as the eye could see in both directions. This also wouldn't have really been a problem, except that we were two white girls, and we were kind of a big deal (my apartment does smell of rich mahogany and I do have many leather-bound books). Every move we made was watched - by Indian MEN. (One thing quite noticeable about India, and quite quickly, is the lack of women "in the wild"). Well, we both held it in for another, I don't know, 4 hours. Holy uncomfortable, Batman!

After we cleared the landslide, it was pretty much smooth sailing to Srinagar (if another extremely bumpy and uncomfortable 5 hours could be called smooth). Kashmiris are very fond of telling you that Kashmir is paradise on Earth; they really think it's the best thing since sliced bread. Probably since bread. They probably think Kashmir is better than bread. And when I first entered Kashmir I could see where they were coming from. The landscapes are absolutely beautiful. Truly (see right!). It made me decide that my next vacation would be to Canada's own Rockie mountains, just so I could compare (and so I can go back to Kashmir and tell them that actually, no, Canada is paradise on Earth!). Landscapes can make a destination, but so can people; and people can also unmake a destination. By the time Hil and I left Kashmir, we were not inclined to call it paradise on Earth. But what did happen to us there was strange, and amusing, especially in retrospect. We definitely had fun...but that will be for another chapter.

Oh, and to make it that much better, the picture below is the toilet that we finally got to use after holding it in for so long. We both peed on the floor (into a drain) instead, because, well, ew.