A Bus to Paradise?

So Jeeni's last entry pretty much described our 24-hour hellish experience getting back to civilization (if you can call monsoonish Delhi "civilization") from Kashmir, but we should tell you a little more about Kashmir itself (now that we are in a safe, clean, happy place)...

Yep, the two-day bus ride from Ladakh (Buddhist Kashmir) to Srinagar (Muslim Kashmir) was pretty rough. Other than a smallish band of Israelis, we were the only Westerners and practically the only women on the 30-year-old bus. As we left the picturesque high desert plains of what was formerly Tibet and made our way along the Indus River and towards the border with Pakistan, we were, at once, taken by the lush green valleys with shepards herding their pashmina goats. We were also annoyed like crazy by the young guys in front of us who kept lighting up their cigarettes (YES. INSIDE THE BUS.) and reclining their seats all the way back into our laps as we meandered along the bumpy cliffs.

We stayed the night in a town called "Drass" (more like a village) -- which owns the rights to being the "second coldest place on earth." Not to mention being the closest town to the line of control. After settling into our overpriced lodging (particularly overpriced because we arrived at 6pm and our bus would be leaving again at 3am), we hung out in the dining room and chatted it up with the cook and his Urdu-speaking buddies. We talked about 9/11, the conflict over Kashmir, Israel... I don't think either of us got more than a couple hours of sleep before loading back onto the damn bus and plowing into the dark, icy, fortified night on our rickety bus.

As soon as light came, we could see the majesty of Kashmir. Words cannot describe the beauty of that place -- but I'll try. We saw the highest green cliffs, waterfalls that would put Yosemite to shame, tiny tent villages dotting the valley below. We also saw more and more signs of a lifelong war -- reinforced bunkers in the hills (looked a lot like the old German hideouts I saw at Omaha Beach in Normandy a few years back), messages painted on rocks embedded in the hillsides that read "Be careful. You are under enemy surveillance." And everywhere (EVERYWHERE), there were soldiers with semi-automatics. We just tried to keep our heads down -- scarves wrapped tightly around our chins.

Our arrival into Srinagar -- the summer capital of Kashmir -- was rather uneventful. It is a beautiful place with very special people who have had to put up with a lot of life's grimmer realities for a very long time. We were both spooked by the sounds of bombs blasting and soldiers shelling something in the distance. When we heard about what happened in London, we decided to get out of dodge as soon as we could -- with fears that Blair or Bush would do something to make the locals less than happy with us.

I was sad to leave Kashmir and very much hope to come back someday when the conflict is over. It's particularly sad because we could see the grandeur that it once was and it's really that perspective that makes the whole situation so depressing. We couldn't go for a cup of coffee without having to cross sidewalks covered with barbed wire and about 15 young trigger-happy Indian soldiers on lookout.

This afternoon, we're off to Agra -- to see the Taj Mahal. Hopefully, we'll find a better internet connection there so that we can upload some of our 400 photos for you all to see!

lots of love,Jeni