The other unforgettable journey: 21 hours from Leh to Manali

People taking the bus from Leh to Manali were told to show up on the Main Bazaar of Leh at midnight. The bus was to take off at 1 AM.

When I arrived a fight had already errupted. A European couple was having it with India.

"You try to tell me I didn't pay?" the young man with an akward yelled.

"Do you think in home country I care for 1000 rupees? That is 15 euros. That is nothing. Why would I try to cheat you?"

Her girlfriend went on:

"I hate this country! Every day someone cheats us. Every day we are fooled. Everyone is a liar and thief. And now this!"

The two were volunteer workers, who'd come to India with good intentions. This time they truely were being cheated. They had payed 1600 rupees (25 euros) each for the ride. But they had paid it to two different guys in the same agency, first paying a thousand as a reservation fee and then later the rest. And now their receipt only said they'd paid 2200 rs and a thousand rupees were missing. Strangely the men were both there to see the bus leave. More strangely the men admitted each having received the money. But as the couple only had a receipt for 2200 that was not going to be enough for the ticket collector, a third man from a different agency.

There was pushing. The girl, who worked for a volunteer organisation for female empowerment, tried to hold back her enraged boyfriend. Insults were flying from both sides. The Indians looked hurt.

"Europeans fight for every rupee even if it is not much money for them", one of the men said and was right. Many of us do, often only out of principle. It is humiliating to pay too much.

I did not see how it ended. My bus left, and the two tried to get on a minibus that was waiting behind the bus.

Five minutes into the ride I was about to fall asleep on the surpsingly comfy seat.

That was until the driver turned on the music. I did not know whether to laugh or cry. It was Hindi pop at it's loudest - almost like standing next to the loudspeakers at a rock festival.

The Indians didn't seem to mind. They were all falling asleep. For 15 minutes I tried to think it was funny. Then I had enough. I voiced my anger to the driver. But he wouldn't hear me, would he. Miraculously the young man already asleep next to me woke up and understood what I wanted. He went up to the driver.

The pop was turned down. I congratulated myself on silencing an Indian bus.

The silence lasted for about 10 minutes. That's probably how long the driver thought it would take for the party crashing stiff Wessie to fall asleep.

I tried yelling but it was again of no use. But to my surpise the sweet boy who by now was drewling against my shoulder woke up again and heroically went up to the driver.

Silence. Finally. On the next stop somewhere in the middle of nowhere the other Wessies thanked me for my persistance. I wondered why they hadn't said a thing. Did they think it was the Indian's right to ride in a bus louder than a disco? Was I wrong to try to make the ride bearable? Or were they just wimps? I don't know.

I woke up at sunrise to see that we were driving off road. We'd reached the Moray Plains at the altitude of 4500 meters. At what seemed like a short distance there was a curious looking mountain. We were driving towards it. Driving. Driving. The moon like plateau went on forever. After about an hour we actually got close to the mountain. A crater surrounded it.

That's when the man sitting in front of me got sick. With the rush of strenght that upcoming vomit gives one he tore open the window and did what he had to do.

I tried to cover myself with the window curtain and waited for the man to close the window. But he didn't. It was below zero degrees outside but his sickness was stubborn.

For the next five hours I kept closing the window until he'd open it again for his session.

Every now and then we stopped at the tented camps by the roadside to get some chai and noodles. No toilets anywhere. Nothing to go behind. The ride was starting to remind me more and more of a rock festival.

At around 5 o'clock we had a flat tyre. By then we had been travelling for 16 hours.

Reading was impossible in the bumpy bus. For a while we watched a Hindi movie in which a chubby chick wearing a miniskirt and a revealing top was robbing fat men with the aid of two tall helpers who were dressed up as rap stars. I couldn't tell if the boy next to me, who was awake for change, thought the girl was hot or not. I just knew that I laughed at different scenes than he did. At the end of the film the other helper, holding a pink umbrella, danced with a young girl. I'm sure I was not hallucinating.

The end of the film was the end of entertainment. It got dark and cold again.

That's when the lady sitting in front of me got sick. The same theatre I'd experienced in the morning began at fresh. She however managed to vomit on the window pane and made sure I was not going to touch the window again in order to close it. I chose to freeze.

Finally, at 10.30 PM we reached Manali. We had been driving for 21,5 hours.

The next day I woke up with a cold.

Leh: 10 small things I liked

Okay. So Leh did not quite do it for me. Saying this is somewhat unfair as I did have the best potato and cheese momo soup ever (60 rs) at Tenzin Dickey Tibetan, was looked remarkably well after at the Julay guesthouse (200 rs, hot shower), visited some pretty cool sights and all in all actually had a pleasant, hassle free stay. So what was wrong?

It could be that Leh is really touristy. The whole of the city center is filled with souvenir shops, travel agents and over priced restaurants serving pizza and banana pancakes. To the credit of Leh's tourism industry it has to mentioned though that the people in the field are astonishingly unpushy.

It could be that riding the jeep here from Srinagar took some of the awesomeness of the sweeping views away. After 15 hours on a Jeep it was not new anymore.

It could be that coming from Srinagar, which I just adored, Leh felt a little lame. I was warned about this by the Northern India connoisseur Toxic Waste man a.k.a Aleksi, an early contributor to this blog.

It could be that I could not organise a trek that would have suited my wallet. As it is the end of season here, getting a group together was too hard. And going on my own would just have been to expensive (I was offered to do a two day trek with a guide for 7000 rupees, which is more than a hundred euros).

It could be that my expectations were too high. I had wanted to come here for years and unlike Hampi last April, Leh just did not live up to them.

Here's what I liked in Leh.

1. Visiting the Tibetan monastery at Thicksey and talking to the 10-12 years old monks, who told me about their life in the

monastery. Basically they pray and study and get to visit their homes a couple of times a year. I cought them playing a game which involved throwing rocks but then an older monk came and told the boys to quit.

The monastery itself dates back to the 16th century and is truly beautiful in all its ruggedness. You won't see this in Thailand.

2. Riding the 20 rupee public bus back to town from Thicksey was interesting. I had to stand most of the way and I can tell you the bus was not made to measure Wessies, not even women. I kept bumping my head to the ceiling, which for some reason I thought was funny. A taxi would have cost about 800 rupees there and back.

3. The people. Most friendly.

4. Getting the potato and cheese momo soup recipe from Tenzin Dickey Tibetan and visiting their family run kitchen to see how the soup is done. I'm so gonna try the recipe when I get home.

5. Watching the film Ancient Futures at the Women's alliance even though it made me feel guilty of coming to Leh and thus contributing to the further decay of local culture.

6. Some of the souvenir shops actually had pretty cool trinklets. I particularly liked the leather wrapped Buddha pendulums.

7. The semi-dried apricots. Delicious. The ladakhis seem to make everything out of apricots, including juice, cream, oil, tea and nuts, which actually are the bitter tasting seeds.

8. The view from Leh Palace to the town. Few can compete with that one.

9. Having a cup of java at the Booklovers Retreat in the village of Changspa. The place is basically like Starbucks but with a Himalayan setting, and no relation to any chain. Oddly enough it was rather inexpensive as well. And has Wi-Fi! And Tin Tin cartoons to read!

10. The local juice made from seabuckthorn, a berry that grows in the Himalayas. Possibly the best juice in the world.

Srinagar to Leh in one go - a very bad idea

I have only myself to blame. I was told to spend two days on the road from Srinagar to Leh, making a stop half way at Kargil.

Seven o'clock in the morning at the Srinagar taxi stand I found out that I could do this trip in a one very long day. I thought it was brilliant. I'd get to Leh late in the evening but I'd save one day.

The journey began well. I made friends with Natasha, a cool English gal, and a funny backpacker guy, who at our first fuel stop somehow managed to find weed that was growing on the empty lot next to the petrol station.

The smirk on his face was priceless when he showed us what he had bagged.

The first 10 hours of the drive went superbly despite the fact that for some reason we did not stop to eat anywhere and we were getting rather hungry. But the views were gorgeus. I envied the few people we met travelling this road on an old Enfiel.

Then it got dark. The load of trucks that passed by on the tiny road were no longer a source of nervous excitement. They were hell. On the other side there was a rocky wall and on the other a 300 meter fall.

Five hours passed in relative silence. Then our driver got a phone call after which he asked us if we had booked a guesthouse in Leh. Upon hearing that we hadn't he insisted that we'd stay for the night in Nimmu as we would not be able to find a place to stay in Leh that late.

It was about 11 o'clock. We were and hour away from Leh. We refused flatly.

Half an hour passed. Then our driver told us that the road to Leh was blocked because of an truck accident. We certainly did not believe that. This guy was obviously getting a comission from the guesthouse he wanted to take us to.

A little before midnight we reached a queue of trucks. We still did not believe that we could not go. We were only about 15 minutes from Leh and the day had been exhausting.

So we walked up to the other end of the queue to see what the problem was. And yes, there was indeed a truck laying on the road, blocking all the traffic on the tiny mountain pass.

Embarrassed we walked back to our Jeep to tell our driver that we'd stay in the guesthouse for the night.

Once we got there, it turned out that we were not the only ones wanting to stay there. What was left for us at the Chamba View guesthouse was a room which did not even have beds not to mention mattresses. The windows were broken and the Himalayan night outside was freezing cold. They only had one blanket to give us. Thank God I had a sleeping bag.

For this hideous room they charged us 300 rupees. But we had no choice. That night we had a very little sleep.

The next morning we woke up to a glorious sunshine and drove the last 15 minutes to Leh.

It had been quite a journey.

If you are to travel from Srinagar to Leh I strongly recommend doing it with the stop in Kargil.

What to do in Srinagar - 10 tips

1. Upon arriving take your time to find the perfect houseboat to stay. As you probably are arriving late from either Leh or Jammu, spend the first evening just chilling on the front deck of the boat and soaking in the Kashmiri atmosphere.

There's nothing quite like Srinagar in the evening: the air fills with prayers from the numerous mosques around the city and the different coloured lights of the houseboats give the lake an evocative feel.

2. On your second day go and explore the city. Be forewarned though: the maps in guide books (LP 2007 and Rough Guide 2009) are particularly bad on the city center. So you just have to ask around. In Srinagar that's a pleasure as the people will go out of their way to help you around - free of charge, no guiding. I spent my first day in Srinagar with the wonderful Hilal whom I met in the Jama Mashid, a grand mosque and Srinagar's main place of worship. From there he took me through the bazaars to the

slightly bizarre brick tomb of Mother of Zain-ul-Adidin, to the astonishingly beautiful shrine of Shah-i-Hamadan (in the pic), to Sufi shrine Pir Dastgir Sahib and to a Sikh temple.

3. When visiting the mosques don't be shy about your camera. Do ask before taking any pics but at least in my case the attendants were all too quick to tell me to take photos before I managed to open my mouth. The oddest thing was that the most photogenic looking old men with either piercing eyes or a cool costume came to me and asked me to take their photo as if they knew I wanted to picture them. I'm telling you, they are doing your work for you.

4. Girls, do keep a scarf with you all the time if you intend to visit the mosques. It's mandatory. There's a sign at the Pir Dastgir Sahib saying visitors are not allowed in naked, but that's a serious understatement.

5. If you come here during the Ramadan like I unknowingly did, visit the silly secret cafes. There men, who are supposed to be fasting and keeping a way from cigarettes, make chimneys seem like a blast from the Middle Ages. You will recognise a secret cafe from the curtains on the door. It's like going back to sixth grade when the bad boys smoked behind the corner, away from the eyes of the teachers.

6. On your second day hire a shikara (a roofed little boat, with plush pillows to lie on) for tour of the lake. You'll see floating gardens (the lotuses are in full bloom in end of May), fishermen, floating markets if you get moving early enough (5AM), more of beautiful houseboats and the amazing reflections of the mountains and clouds on the clear, quiet lake.

On the way you can stop to Hazratbal mosque, which with its Taj Mahal -like features, is the only big mosque in the city which looks like a mosque. The others, Kashmiri styled square mosques with balconies are apparently unique in the islamic world.

A full day shikara tour will cost you 600-1000 rupees per boat (9-13 euros).

7. If you are on a low budget like I am, travelling alone and not having anyone to share the cost of boat with, a cheaper alternative is to do the tour on a normal paddle boat and paddle along with your guide. I can tell you, it's good exercise. The cost of renting just the boat with no boatman and no guide is 200-250 rupees for a day. But I think this way you'll only get lost as there are not that many boats on the big Dal lake to get directions from,

8. You should visit one of the gardens for which Srinagar is famed for. I stopped at the Nishat Bagh, a lovely garden built by the emperor Jehagir. I spent a jolly hour there with Ahmed and Zahoor, professors of English and physics. They tought me some Persian:Agar Firdous Baroai Zameen Ast, Hamin Ast, Hamin Ast, Hamin Ast. It means "if there is a paradise on earth, it is here, it is here, it is here. The words which refer to Kashmir are by the emperor Jehangir. In turn I tought Ahmed and Zahoor that Nokia is a town in Finland. I never claimed to be much of a poet.

9. Here's an odd tip: Visit the ATM at the headquarters of Jammu and Kashmir bank at the beginning of Lal Chowk, close to Dal Gate 1. The ATM is housed within the building and you have to ask the guards who are there 24/7 to escort you to the ATM. On the way they might show you pictures of the president of the bank shaking hands with important people and give you some dates to munch on while you withdraw money in the presence of an armed guard. Pretty sweet, eh?

10. Should it rain one evening, watching Enemy at Gates with Jude Law with your 61-year-old houseboat owner is perfect entertainment. The movie, in which Jude Law plays a Russian sniper in the Battle of Staliningrad has absolutely nothing to do with anything which is why it makes such a funny topic of discussion.

As a general rule I can safely state, that the people of Srinagar are the most welcoming I've met during my four trips to India. They are eager to talk to you and will want you to tell friends at home to visit Srinagar as the lovely city is dying to get foreign tourists back. The tourists left Srinagar 20 years ago, when the Hindu-Muslim tensions got to yet another breaking point and a series of terrorist attacks shattered the image of the city - not to mention kidnapping of foreing tourists. But now, and I'm not saying this at gunpoint: if you thinking of visiting India, try to fit Srinagar into your itinerary. It's simply wonderful.

See my previous post on how to find the perfect houseboat here.

9 tips to finding the perfect houseboat in Srinagar

Staying in a houseboat is one of the main attractions of the Kashmiri town Srinagar. The houseboat are like little villas on the Dal lake. They come in all classes from deluxe to D class (D is an official class) so everyone can find a houseboat to suit there wallet.

The problem is that there are more than 1400 houseboats in Srinagar. Many of them can house only a few people at a time so no guide book can really make reference to any certain boat. So you just have to go look for the perfect one yourself.

My perfect houseboat, Shora Palace, cost me 200 rupees a night, including breakfast and delicious dinners, snacks, my own bath with hot water and a lovingly furnished room with a big, soft double bed. Now, be warned though, this is the low season price. The official high season price from April to June is 1250 rupees a night per room. But you of course you can bargain.

Here's how you'll find your houseboat.

1. This is what the Lonely Planet recommends: hire a shikara (a small boat, costs about 100 rupees per hour) and tour the lake as long as you find what you like.

2. The above advice is alright. The problem is though that the shikaras are affiliated with certain houseboats and that's where they are going to take you unless you watch your back fervently. After what usually is either a two day drive from Leh or a one long drive from Jammu, you might not feel like arguing. So if you can, ask other travellers in Leh or in Jammu or Amritsar, if that's where you are coming from, where they stayed, how much it cost and did they like it. I know that you would normally ask other travellers about guest houses anyway but when it comes to houseboats it really is the sound thing to do as you can't just go and walk around. In addition it gives you an edge when talking to the shikara men - you'l look like you know where you want to go.

3. Once on a houseboat candidate make sure you know what's included in the price. The normal fare is meals and shikara rides back to the shore. Is there hot water in the showers? Is the food just rice and dal or do you have a choice? Who else is staying there? If you are travelling alone and feel like talking to somebody in the evening this is not a stupid question.

4. There are houseboats like the Shora Palace which can be accessed from the lakeshore by a bridge. I quite liked having the option of coming and going however I wanted to without the need to ask to be given a ride every time I wanted to go for a walk.

5. Talk to owner long enough to find out if he is knowledgeable about the area and if you actually like him. You end up seeing him quite a bit so it's essential he makes you feel right at home.

6. The price of the stay is usually half if you don't take the meals. Now, this might not be so clever as it first sounds like. I spoke to a couple of starving travellers in the old town of Srinagar who told me that there was nowhere to eat where they were staying at Nigin Lake except one fancy expensive club. On top of that it was the Ramadan, so the restaurants in town where all closed.

7. The houseboats have official price categories. At the time of writing the cheapest price category (D) was 750 rupees a night including meals. The LP promises reductions up to 70 percent in the low season, which is less than the drop I managed to bargain. Oddly enough though I was in Srinagar in September which according to the Planet is the second best season after the spring season of April-June. So as always: bargain.

8. Do not book a houseboat in Delhi! I wrote about the particular scam earlier here.

9. You will know that you've found the perfect place to stay when on top of everything the houseboat owner lends you his wife's Kashmiri style pants as your knee length skirt is too revealing to go into town during Ramadan. (in the pic on the left)

Next post: What do to in Srinagar

Previous post: An unforgettable journey from Jammu to Srinagar.

An unforgettable journey from Jammu to Srinagar: How these men made my day

Night bus from Amritsar to Jammu arrived in Jammu at 4.30 in the morning. It was pitch black. The driver of the private bus told me it was the Jammu bus station but I doubt it was.

Rather, it seemed like I had been dropped from the bus to some wasteland over which a massive concrete bridge streched.

Still sleepy after the short rest I had managed to have on the bus I just stood there wondering, where the hell should I go. I wanted to continue straight to Srinagar but it looked like there was nowhere to go to ask for directions. Everything was closed.

Unsurprisingly it didn't take long for the ricksha drivers to spot me. First there was one.

"Where do you want to go?"

Then there was another. And a third.

"I'm looking for a bus to Srinagar."

"No bus, madam."

"No bus?" ("Madam?")

"Jeep, jeep here. 250 rupees to Srinagar"

By that time I was already surrounded by 20 men who were all staring at me. I looked around not knowing what to do. Being the rational woman I am, I started laughing.

The whole situation was absurd. At 4.30 in the morning a lonesome woman arrives somewhere in the middle of nowhere in Jammu and by 4.31 she is surrounded by 20 men balling there eyes out.

The guys started laughing too and I relaxed.

I said yes to the jeep ride without even bargaining. It was set to leave at 7. So I at sat down at a small bench, mentally preparing for a long wait. Then one of the guys emerged with a plastic bag of chai and I too got my cup. It looked like the wait too would be alright.

To my great surprise the jeep driver came to tell me we'd leave right then.

I sat in on my window seat ready to finally fall asleap.

"Are you a journalist?" said a voice from the front seat.

Puzzled at how the man had guessed, I replied yes.

"Journalists always travel alone", came rapid the answer.

"Journalists do a lot of good. But a lot of bad as well. On Palestine, on Pakistan and on Iran."

Great. I appeared to be surrounded by muslim militants on their way to Kashmir where only a week before a car bomb had gone off killing four people.

"Not all muslims are terrorists. You should write that."

The man on the front seat continued his sermon. Listening to him I realized that this was actually a very wise man. He seemed to know everything about the conflict in Kashmir and Kashmir's history, and made frequent reference to Urdu poetry. I started listening more carefully. We ended up discussing matters of religion, war, peace, and family for the next three hours while the sun slowly rose to shed light on the rolling hills which quickly turned into mountains.

It was time for breakfast. We stopped at a small road side eaterie. And from then on I was treated like a queen. The two other guys went to find the toilet for me, insisted on holding my bag while I was in and eventually payed the lady tending the toilet. For breakfast they ordered me a chili omelette and paneer sandwiches and insisted on paying again.

Back in the jeep I started falling asleep. Soon I woke up and realized I was leaning my head on one of the guy's shoulder. He patted my head reassuringly and I went back to sleep only to wake up again two hours later soundly asleep at this stranger's lap. (in the pic on the right)

The rest of the nine hour journey to Srinagar passed by quickly. We chatted and smiled a lot, and stopped again for lunch.

In Srinagar we exchanged numbers and said goodbyes. It had definitely been one of the best journeys ever.

Oh, and the wise man isn't a militant in the exact sense of the word. He (in the pic on the middle) is a Kashmiri muslim, working in the Indian army and serving at the Attari border, where I had watched the closing ceremony just the day before.

Previous post: Attari border ceremony - not what you expect

Next post: How to find the perfect houseboat in Srinagar

Visiting the Attari border - not what you expect

You'd thinks it's grand, pompous and dignified. But the closing ceremony at Attari border (30 km from Amritsar) between India and Pakistan is anything but. In fact it's more like a daily fiesta.

The ceremony itself probably is rather serious business. The marching and stomping soldiers make grim faces at one another while the flags of both countries are taken down. Or so you hear.

In reality the ceremony is so popular among Indian tourists that your chances of seeing a thing are pretty grim. I don't know how early you would have to be there to get proper seats for the 6 pm event, but I'm assuming at least 2 hours before. And that's along wait when there is no way to hide from the blazing sun.

But it doesn't matter! What's really worth seeing here are the Indians going crazy with national pride. For about 45 minutes preceeding the ceremony school girls and boys make quite a spectacle dancing on the street leading to the gates between the two countries. They jam to the latest Indian tunes - to me it sounded like music from Bollywood movies, but heck, what do I know, the songs could have been Punjabi just as well. The only word I could catch was "Hindustan" - which made the crowd go absolutely nuts. The Hindustan theme continues when the actual ceremony begins. And what a beginning it has! A man with a marathon runner's lungs just screams to the microphone for as long as he can. "Oooooooooooooooooo" And the crowd cheers. Then begins the marching accented by some silly looking kicks.

The cheering of "Hindustan" lasts all along during the ceremony. The crowd is as extatic as if they'd just win the world cup. It's funny and scary at the same time.

So yeah, I'd go and see the ceremony, even if it's quite different from what people tell you. At least it offers one insight to the relationship between India and Pakistan.

If you decide to go, here are a few tips:

1. Leave your valuables at your guest house or at the Golden Temple, if that's where you are staying. Bags are not allowed to the ceremony, something that no one seems to remember to tell you when you go.

2. By far the easiest way to make it to the border is by a shared jeep. The running price for a return ride is 75 rupees. If they try to charge you extra for parking, turn to another jeep. You don't particularly have to go look for a jeep in Amritsar. You'll be offered the trip to the border to an annoying extent. These touts are the single one bit I didn't like in Amritsar. A public bus goes there as well but apparently it takes about 75 minutes one way whereas the jeep only takes 30 minutes.

3. Be prepared to be pushed around - and I mean seriously pushed around. This ceremony is not for the claustrophobic, although I assume they would not come to India in the first place.

Read more about Amritsar and the Golden Temple here.