Srinigar,
Kashmir.
- I float on a boat with a drug dealer and a spiritual teacher for a week
- What the muslims say about JC (or Jesus to you and me)
- Tension on the streets of Kashmir
- Underpant lads 1 Mister Kris 0
My life in
September was a bit like the TV show the Amazing Race (oddly I even hung out
with one of their camera crew) . I
travelled through 6 Indian states in the first two weeks of September. Once upon a time, all these provinces and
territories were their own kingdoms and countries which meant huge contrasts in
culture, religion, diet, language, customs and history The one part that struck me was climate. I’d taken 5 night trains and about 30 hours
of buses in 2 weeks and AC, junk food on the go and lack of sleep in cheap
hotels had got to me. I should have
respected the underpants boys on my AC2 experience for they knew that
in 35 degree heat when you get on an AC compartment you should change clothes. So when I went from 35 degrees in Delhi to 15
degrees in North Kashmir all of us a sudden I felt a little crappy.
However, I was soon on a boat on Dal Lake. And this is the only song in my head…
Arriving in Kashmir
is odd. I flew into Srinigar and it felt
like we were arriving at a military airport as opposed to a civilian one. The streets were pretty similar, lined with soldiers and tanks but luckily most had a smile when they saw a white person in a taxi.
My
Srinigar experience was a funny one.
Before I went everyone told me about the beauty of Dal lake resting
below the mountains and the peace and tranquility of staying on a
houseboat. Since I left all I've met are people who had been ripped off, had issues with the army curfews and described the
lake as smelly, dirty and noisy. So my
opinion? Well upon my arrival I met Eddie an ex drug dealer from Plymouth who
travels the world following marijuana harvests and writes articles for Weed
magazines/blogs and David a hippy from California who’s well know in the spiritual healing circles. The two were
some of the most intelligent people I've met on my whole trip. Eddie spent most of his time smoking then
passing out on the floor and David spent most of his time doing Yoga and
talking wisely whilst stroking his beard.
The setup on the
houseboat was surprisingly formal, especially considering it was 9 euros/day including 3 meals. We all ate
together at a very grand dining room table and David would sit at the head
always coming up with classic phrases after any silence “Well this is us, isn’t
is amazing we are on planet earth speeding through the universe. Life is sweet”. The food on the boat was very good and the
rooms surprisingly kitted out.
Me, David and Eddie at dinner:
My issue, and having had a few chavaran holidays
as a kid I should have realized this. On
a houseboat you all need to follow the same patterns; the butterfly effect is
more like the fart effect on a boat. David and I being yogis would go to bed early
and rise early. Eddie would stay up late
playing trance and pass out in the lounge.
We also had an Indian family staying on the boat who went to bed really
early (9 pm) and wake just after the call to prayer at 5.30am, and they weren't quiet.
As a result the
maximum sleep you could get was 5-6 hours.
It was a peaceful lake but late trance music and early guttural clearing noises from the Indians (a family of 8 means that can last up to ½ hour). It was, however, the perfect place to
meditate. Out on the terrace facing the
peaceful lake away from the noisy auntie shouting at her family at 6am.
The view meditating on
the lake in the morning:
One problem with that
though, the sellers. I had a few
occasions in which I was sunk into the terrace in a quiet state with my eyes
closed and a seller on a passing boat would shout ‘hello, hello, you want
flowers’. I would duly ignore this yet
it would be repeated until I opened my eyes and was asked again. At this point I would mention I was
meditating and that I had no need for flowers and would like some peace. This didn't work as I’d engaged a
conversation. This was a problem in
Kashmir. The rip offs were nearly as bad
as Varanassi. I heard of one German guy
who was on a boat and the owner tried to sell him a 10 day trek for 1000 euros
(cost was probably 100 euros), he refused and the owner said unless he took one
of his trips he would keep his passport.
He was 18 years old so mature enough to travel in North India but not
experienced enough to get out of a shitty situation like that. You cannot just get off a boat.
Getting the police
involved in Kashmir is messy as it’s a political state. There was nothing calming about these
Kashmiri men all with their default moustache, brown leather jacket and hooker
sucker. It is a gorgeous location, and
my boat came on a friend’s recommendation and yet even though I wasn't ripped
off I wouldn't go back.
I was humbled hanging
out with David (to see him in action click here). He reminded me of Jeff Bridges aka Kevin Flynn in Tron:
He was
one of the first people to take Kundalini Yoga to the USA in the 1960s which he
practiced every morning on the terrace.
In this pic influencing the local kids!
Eddie, however, was
not such a calm character. His years of marijuana had him crawling up the walls with paranoia and as such he was always
looking for an argument and would not accept defeat. He was like a skinny Vinny Jones and very
well read to boot so you just let him have his moment.
Kashmir is known to be a bit of a
tinderbox with continuous attacks from Pakistani militant groups resulting in
civil unrest. The streets of Srinigar are safe to tourists but lined with
military ready for action. The day
before arrived there had been a few fatalities during a strike that turned into
a riot close to Jesus’s tomb. Yes, JC is
in Srinigar. There’s a theory that Jesus
spent his ‘lost years’ (before he started preaching) in India where Buddhism
influenced his teachings. The most
famous book on the subject is ‘Jesus lived in India’ and even the Koran suggest
the same. Below is a photo of the tomb, it’s closed and no photos are
allowed. When I visited following the
previous days’ riot I daren't even put my hand in my pocket as the stares from
the locals were seriously scary.
After a few days I decided to move on. Unlike the
rest of India, the punjabis and kashmiris love dried fruits and
nuts so the travelling diet was no longer fried street food. I wanted to head to either Amritsar or
Dharamshala so I took a jeep to Jammu.
Shared jeeps are the only way to travel in Kashmir as the mountain
terrain and turbulent history means it’s one of the few parts of India not well
served by train. I found a jeep for an
OK price but was dubious over the springs sticking in my arse and lack of
headroom (I didn't fancy 5 hours of head banging). I got out and left much to the protest of my
fellow passengers (jeeps only leave when full so someone changing vehicle is
not good). I said ‘come on lads we can
do better than this’ and hilariously two Kashmiri guys and a family followed me
to another jeep which didn't have springs sticking out of the seats. I was lucky with the upgrade, it wasn't a 5 hour trip it
turned out to be 9.
The drive through
rural Kashmir was stunning, enchanted forests in rolling mountains, similar to
Nepal. You are soon, however, reminded
you are in Kashmir. Soldiers clutter the
forest paths sitting in the mist with their guns and, as I discovered when going
to the toilet at a refreshment you are faced with a fixed machine gunner behind
sandbags everwhere.
I was wrecked on the
trip and even when feeling tired and a beet sick you soon feel alive and full
of wanderlust again when you stretch your jaw muscles and feel your lips move
over your teeth to shine a smile at a random group of bearded shepherds on the
back of a truck and they smile back with such great energy. Breath it in :) I am one of the luckiest people in the world.
A Happy Boy :)
The driving skills in
the mountain were on par with most of India.
Stupid. We had two drivers and the first one was racing against a rival
jeep for the first 5 hours which involved a number of cliff edge passes. The second driver was the opposite. I’m not sure if he had ever driven before. When overtaking he would change ‘up’ gear and
when we came out of a hairpin turn he would let go of the steering wheel and
look possessed as it spun back round.
Bless.
We saw a few crashes
along the way but one really annoyed me. The driver stopped to look at dead
motorcyclist to argue whose fault it was; instead of calling for help or simply
paying his respects he simply encouraged a discussion which nearly ended up in
another fatality. Five minutes later he wouldn't stop to help push truck out of the road instead just shouted at them
to get out of the road as he was late.
When we arrived in
Jammu the bus to Dharamshala had left so I waited for the next bus to Amritsar. I actually wrote a blog at the
time (this one is being written on 0515 commuter train going through lush Sri Lanka …I’ll
catch up soon!) as I was so shocked by the level of begging. No-where in India had I seen a queue of
people begging outside the bus window.
The bus ride was an
easy 6 hours. My only annoyance was guy
insisting on sitting next to me when the bus had empty seats at the back. His claim was ‘but you’ll be lonely’. Cock.
I didn't want to move to the back as it despite no big bumps/potholes or
severe overtaking moves the ride was a real boneshaker which meant lucky for me
I drifted off to sleep for most of the trip.
Next stop Amritsar – The Golden Temple, Pakistan border and Jallainwala Bagh (the site of the Amritsar massacre).
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