We have been longing for the sun, but after a few days in the humid subtropical heat of Pakistan and India, we would not mind a break from it. The next destination in Kashmir is far to the north, so in the middle of the Himalayas, it is reasonable to assume that temperatures might return to more comfortable levels. Let's hope it doesn't turn out to be a mistake and we freeze our asses off again soon.
It's just a fact - what you have is never what you wish.
Srinagar. Kashmir. Himalayas
Sometimes we get the impression that we are moving along according to an inner compass that was set before we started. That the next destination has been fixed, even if it deviates from the direct route. So we don't go south, but take the long way to Srinagar in Kashmir.
How could we seriously skip Srinagar. Kashmir. The Himalayas.
A mortal sin.
Up to Jammu the route corresponds to what we know in the meantime. Long, almost flat roads along fields and meadows and all that you can expect here. Scattered smaller and larger villages, huts in the nowhere, then again towns, then again long time nothing.
However, the road is now almost traffic-free, apparently the north is not the center of traffic interest. Suits us just fine.
We make a big turn around the border to Pakistan, so to speak, but a few extra kilometers don't bother us.
And so sometimes we are glad to discover another vehicle, even if it is just a public bus, which looks old and run-down, but is still fast enough to overtake our extremely slow vehicle. The looks and grimaces behind the windows say it all.
Jammu
The first destination is Jammu, Apparently known as the winter capital of the government of Jammu and Kashmir because of its more benign, warmer subtropical climate.
The city is an important railroad and transportation hub and features numerous Hindu temples. The city is only visited by a few tourists, however, as it has been the site of several terrorist attacks in the past; the areas west of Jammu are among the most dangerous in India.
We spend the night in Jammu not caring much about the city, Srinagar is calling. Kashmir, the mysterious province in the middle of the mountains, surrounded by Himalayan giants.
And yet, if you took a closer look at the sights on offer, you would hardly think of moving on right away. Just think of the Mubarak Mandi Palace:
Be gentle on my curves!
You never imagine a thing as it later turns out to be in reality. This is also the case today. Because shortly after Jammu, the glory of wide, flat roads with hardly any traffic is gone. Now a drive over the mountains begins, which is quite a challenge.
The road is partly in a desolate condition, rattling and shaking across the landscape, which seems steeper and steeper and more repellent.
A drinking glass on the shelf clatters until I lose my nerve and throw it out the window. Monika is anything but amused. But the tension on today's course is not to be underestimated.
At least the atmosphere is somewhat eased every few kilometers, as signs at the roadside point out to the dangers of the route. A few examples:
"Be gentle on my curves!"
Or the best of all:
"Death lays its icy hands on Speed Kings!"
Years later, on a visit to the neighboring Ladakh, I will remember this trip, because there (apparently a regional phenomenon) similar slogans can be seen.
What we do not yet suspect at this moment is the loss of all the photos, which we shoot here and later in Srinagar, due to a technical problem.
Worst tunnel of all
After the so-called Zero Point at the top of the pass, a tunnel appears, the Qazigund Banihal Tunnel. What can I say, it is by far the worst ride through a completely black, unlit tube, poisoned by exhaust fumes, leading to anywhere. Mostly straight ahead, that much we can still make out, but we can't see anything of the ground, probably full of holes and rocks.
Terrible to imagine a breakdown here. No light, no escape lane, the absolute horror. My eyes desperately try to penetrate the Black Hole, because yes, we admit it, our headlights aren't the best either.
And sometimes, at least not very often, the oncoming trucks turn their headlights on at the last moment, meaning complete blindness for a few seconds. And until the poor eyes get used to the darkness again, we are driving blind.
And then Shangri-La
Never before have we breathed such a sigh of relief when, after a seemingly endless drive through dark hell, something like morning light appears.
But it is not the morning light, but quite simply the light at the end of the tunnel. It seems to us as if we had been spewed out of the maw of a primeval monster.
A new world is opening up, even though we are still in the middle of the mountains. But things are going downhill, not only us, but also our tormented engine seems to noticeably be able to breathe deeply.
Anything unpleasant that happens to us in life is never a coincidence, and sometimes, although rare, we are rewarded for it. This is exactly what happens after some more tiring kilometers, as we reach a valley. Is it the legendary Shangri-La, the mystical place in Tibet?
But we are not in Tibet, but in Kashmir, far away from the fictional place in Tibet where people live in peace and harmony. It must be due to the mental exertion of the last few hours that the magnificent, lush green landscape reminds us of paradise.
However, the magical moment of harmony or simply illusion disappears, Srinagar approaches and with it the renewed intrusion of reality, because now it is a matter of finding a place to sleep in the turmoil of the city.
Sounds kind of familiar, doesn't it?
Matching song for the year: Bob Dylan-Forever Young
And here the journey continues… in Srinagar
