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A few kms down the NH1 I pulled into Ambala for the night - for your
information Ambala is one of the places where the Indian Mutiny of 1857 started. Why have I mentioned all these places? Mainly because they are ndestinguishable, they are all dirty and dusty and rundown and set in beautiful surroundings and I drove for kms along the Kullu River and then the Beas River and still the towns were dirty and dusty and rundown.

The next morning I set of to do the last 200 kms to Delhi and it was most frustrating to be on a real highay for the first time since March and I couldn't do more than 55! I was passed by busses and trucks and cars and even rickshas and the ocaisinal bicycle ricksha! The only things I could be sure of passing were the bullock carts.

The nearer I got to Delhi the heavier the traffic got and all of a sudden I
was in the city and in a traffic jam and totally unaware of where I was. I
stopped an autoricksha and told him to lead me to the Main Bazar and he did just that, leading me right to the hotel I had chosen. I am now settled in a room the size of a basketball court with A/C and TV and an overattentive staff who barely allow me to enter or leave without bugging me.

What I have seen of Delhi is not much, the Red Fort and Hanumans statue and the Main Bazar and it is all dirty and unappealing and anyway I dont really have time for touring and the weather sucks and so I don't believe I will see much of the city.

Now I am off to Conaurght Place to find a MacDonald's - I need a fix even though I know the burger will be chicken - but think of the chips (fries) and milkshake.

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Friday, July 06, 2007

Leh

Well here I am in Leh. The journey here was not of the easiest - 420 kms, 180 of them road and the rest "no road". When we left Srinigar it started to rain and it didnt stop for 2 days, that is till we were about 2 hours from Leh. On the way we crossed 3 unpaved passes with the highest being 3500 meters more or less, none of them were paved and the few sections that were were covered with muddy water - driving was excrutiatingly slow, mostly in
1st gear both because of the climb and because of the mud (Amit and I were especially careful, or cowardly) because on the return trip from Gulmarg (near Srinigaar) we both slipped, slid and fell at the same spot and do not want a repeat of it.

Despite the really hard ride we did manage to take many, many photos and when I reach Manali I will send them (it's expensive here and I am a well known cheapskate). How can I describe the scenery, its indescribable, but of course I'll give it the old college try. The first leg is through Kashmir and its all lush and green with little glaciers coming right up to the road and streams, tiny ones running across the roads and picturesque little villages and herdsmen and their tents and flocks and many soldiers and army
camps and deep ravines with the fast flowing Indus all along the way and it cuts through solid rock to get where its going and then after Kargil, a passionately Shi'ite town where we tried unsuccessfully to dry out (the second day I put nylon bags over my socks because my shoes were soaked) the whole world turns into a desert with high snow covered mountains and more
rain and two passes and mud and wet and cold and lots of "no road".

But we made it and met our friends from Kasol and got ourselves a lovely guest house which we have completely taken over - 5 rooms of Israelis (9 people) and one of Danes (2) and we run the place.

We decided to take a camping trip in the Nubra Valley and to get there you have to drive the worlds highest motorable road (according to BRO and The Lonely Planet) where the highest pass Khardung La reaches 18380 feet (don't ask me why feet, maybe a leftover from the Raj) which is about 5500 meters and it gets cold and there is not enough oxygen but the road, except for a
very few sections and the very steep climb - about 2000 meters in 40 kms, is quite an easy drive. So we're going camping and we've got everything including the kitchen sink and we reach the top in about 2 hours and we do the obligatory photos with bikes and sign and have the obligatory puff and we're on our way. Oops, no we're not, Gutte's bike won't start. Nachum, who had been miserable till then, suffering like me from the effects of the lack
of oxygen brightens up and in 10 minutes has the engine stripped and has found the problem, but 10 minutes turn into 2 hours and we're all suffering from the height so we stop a Tata and load the bike on and Gutte sets out for Leh again. End of Camping Trip! I had moaned about having to go camping but was now most dissapointed (wew have planned another shorter one for
tomorrow) and I am sure I would have moaned and whinged but I am truely saddened. the remaining 5 bikes turn around to follow Gutte and 10 minutes later Toto's bike dies - another Tata! Maya joined him for the ride and how they managed to roll a joint as the Tata bounced and jounced (is that a word?) down the road is beyond me. I was feeling pretty bad myself on the way down so I stopped and vomited. I also lost everybody else but arrived,
or limped "home" first.

After about 30 minutes during which iI just sat, the others started limping in too and Maya made us all a delicious potato soup which did much towards our recovery. Toto's bike was ready last night but Gutte's may take longer.

I think that the boys enjoy it more when their bikes break down, they seem to thrive on the adversity. Ah well, no Nubra valley this time, maybe next year. Any takers?

Now we are waiting to do the Leh-to-Manali road which is supposed to be the hardest and the next petrol station is 300 kms from here. There are 3 passes, all high and tough. But in the meantime we have met here a group of 70 Indian Enfield riders and if they can do it so can we, even though they were a ralley and rode empty with all their luggage on a truck and mechanics and 3 doctors. But hats off to them anyway.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Want more pics?

For more pictures of Arie and Srinigar, check out the collection on Picasa Web Albums.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Srinigar, Srinigar has captured my heart!

As I said in my last long mail Srinigar is special and I feel obliged to write more about it, even if its just to give a blow by blow description of our activities, and despite the tranquility of the houseboat we have managed to get up off our big fat arses (well mine is big and fat, it just seems [appropriate] to try and drag Amit and Maya down to my level).



The houseboat comes with two meals a day, breakfast is unfailingly eggs (scrambled or omletted), huge amounts of toast and a slalad. (What's a salad?). Dinner is usually fried lamb or liver or chicken and tonight we had an excellent lamb stew (at least I believe it was lamb but mutton can be either lamb or goat - you don't really want to ask) with vegetables, usually carrots, beans and potato. Our host Ayub is not, however, a very good cook and sometimes one has to really struggle to bite and chew the lamb stew was cooked by his father from whom he took over the business. Apparently the old man (probably 50) likes to keep his hand in. We have a fridge, the first time for any of us and that means we can keep milk, cheese, coke, water, fruit, ice cream - god, the posssibilities are endless. We are eating well and living off the fat of this land.



Each day we wake up around 8:30 (me) or 9:30 (my house-mates) and then breakfast is served half an hour later. During the interim, we drink coffee and have an early morning smoke. (ha). What to do with the day? Whew, that's a toughie. Everything, well almost everything is brought to our deck-step (my word I believe), all the shops you can imagine float up to our HB and
yell till we come out to tell them we don't want to buy anything, but they are nothing if not persistant and now and again we break down and allow them on board and then we are lost, we buy and buy and buy and buy.

There are jewellers, and woodcarvings and pashminas and papermache, mind you, they haven't brought carpets to the HB, for that we had to go to the shop and again I showed total lack of will power. I have bought too much and I want tovomit and I drool over my newest additions to the museum of kitch!



And then there are the fruit and vegetable guys, and the floating supermarket which has everything but at a 20% markup and the shishkebab wallah and the shikara taxis all needing to make a buck (and most of them subsist on that buck - most not all, some of them actually make a whole herd of bucks).

Some days we take a ride to a tourist site; Shalimar Bagh and Nishat Bagh the magnificent Moghul gardens, gulmarg, Indias most popular ski resort and claimant to the worlds highest golf course, a temple here a mosque there and of course a visit to a village about 35kms from here where the locals make imitation cricket bats (I've begun to take an interest in cricket since arriving here - it is almost impossible to ignore India's national sport and national passion).

And then there are drives around the city which are beautiful and going to Nehru park to watch the Indian tourists at play. They are mostly Punjabi (Punjab is just south and very, very hot at this time of year (Amritsar!). They come here in droves, the middle class with their 2.4 children and parents from both sides and two or three brothers or sisters and their kids and all 32 pile into a jeep and never complain but very rarely smile and because the language of Kashmir is Urdu the tourists mostly interact with the locals in English. And we take pictures of them and they of us, all very amicable.

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