After the border between Himachal Pradesh and Jammu/Kashmir, military presence increased noticably. Driving into Jammu, a huge army sign proclaimed:
"Jammu - a nation's pride, a neighbour's envy", referring to both Pakistan and China wanting the territory.
Diego then turns in his seat and says to Aisling and I; "Welcome to the war zone, girls!" Brilliant.
We had decided to head up to Kashmir after talking to a few people in Delhi and doing a bit of research of our own. The Indian Kashmir-Pakistan border was proclaimed by TIME magazing as the world's most dangerous. Three countries claim this land - India, Pakistan and China, which has resulted in thousands of bloody deaths and terrorist attacks. However, we know that chances were we would never be up this way again, and when we heard that relations had improved markedly from last year we thought 'What the hell' and embarked on our journey north to India's paradise on earth.
Prying ourselves away from the Tibetan tourist mecca of Mcleod Ganj was difficult to say the least, as we pulled away in our taxi I could only hope that one say I would return. On our way north to Srinigar we had planned a night in Jammu to break the 13 hour trip. We arrived in Jammu, Kashmir's capital, at about 5pm and immediately tried to find somewhere to stay. Jammu, quite literally, felt like a war zone. Soldiers made their presence felt everywhere, strutting around with AK47's with cocky swaggers and leery stares. A horrible, busy, dirty town, we tried 5 different hotels till we found one that would take us. It felt like we were being turned away because we were westerners - people took 1 look at us and shook their heads, even though we could see the keys to empty rooms hanging on hooks on the walls.
The hotel that would let us stay was absolutely disgusting. Walls covered in piss and brown stains, thin curtains, broken windows. Cockroach-infested squat toilets, bed brown with dirt and a suicide note scribbled on the wall, I had never stayed somewhere so repulsive. We had to take it because it was getting dark and we didn't fancy walking the streets of a muslim war-zone at night. After checking in, we found a clean (ish) fast-food restaurant round the corner, where we tried to make pizza and pepsi last as long as possible until we saw a rat the size of a cat scurrying along the rafters above our heads.
Horrified, we fled back to our cesspit of a motel, got into our sleeping bag liners fully clothes and settled into what was to be a terrifying night. Ripped curtains flapping under the wind of the fan meant that freaky Kashmiri men would walk past deliberately to stop and stare in the windows at us. The room next door was having some sort of loud, mens-only gathering, and my overactive imagination had me convinced that it was a terrorist ralley. Mosquitoes and moths divebombed me all night, and rickety trucks rattled past on the potholed roads (I thought they were army tanks). Sweaty and terrified, I got about 10 minutes of sleep the entire night.
As soon as our 4am alarm clock went off, we packed in a flash and almost trampled over each other in a rush to get out of the motel. The jeep taking us north to Srinigar was waiting (thank god!) and we hopped in, locked our doors, and said a little prayer of thanks as we drove out of the hellhole that is Jammu.
Our ordeal was not quite over. Our driver, young and cocky, was bent on getting to Srinigar as quickly as possible. We drifted around corners, tyres screeching, above 300ft drops into the valley below. He passed slow trucks on blind corners, missing oncoming cars by what felt like cm's. Had we survived our Jammu ordeal only to fall to our deaths when our crazy driver loses control? There were times when I honestly thought we were going to die.
The scenery during the drive, however, was exquisite; towering snow capped mountains stood guard over lush green valleys and ice-blue rivers rushed over boulders and pebbles. We got caught in a traffic jam in a small muslim village, caused by lots of men with flags and megaphone celebrating some political victory. By this time, the only thing I wanted was to get to Srinigar safely.
Two hours later we arrived. Women in burka's scurried through tree-lined streets and a wide, flat, rowing-worth river snaked alongside the old town. We drove through backstreets and were taken through a beautiful garden to our old school houseboat. It was absolutely stunning. A short Kashmiri butler waited for us and guided us to huge rooms with private bathrooms and baths. Everything was made out of Oak, and a huge dining room and lounge backed on to a private balcony overhanging the water - all on a beautiful, calm lake that mirrored the snow capped mountains above. After our ordeal, it seemed we had finally found paradise!
When experience and pleasure and pain are at their most raw it is impossible to be distracted from being alive. Yes, it was a dangerous and terrifying journey, but what a ride! What an adventure.
