A steady caravan of elaborately decorated cargo trucks, heavy-duty buses, and military jeeps all jockey for pole position along the route
Sheep, cows, and goats now graze peacefully but India and Pakistan once fought here
Just a few kilometers from the line of control, Kargil marks a transition from the lush, alpine character of the valleys above Kashmir to the more lunar terrain of Ladakh. If traveling by bus, Kargil marks the half-way mark between Srinagar and Leh. As we approached the town, its apricot and apple orchards were inviting (as were its bathrooms), but our driver was driving hellbent for leather at this point and we didn't even stop.
In places the Srinagar-Leh road is paved; in others it's laced with jeep-eating potholes and scree knocked down by grazing sheep. These views only hint at the size of the Ladakh and Zanskar ranges
Roadways maintained by the BRO--Border Roads Organization--are lined with signs that declare "If you are married, divorce speed" and "A cat has nine lives but not one that drives." Other cautionary signs declaring weak bridges with single vehicle capacity; apparently in local driving parlance this should be taken to mean no more than three jeeps at a time.
A series of tight S-curves and U-bends wind down toward the striking monastery at Lamayuru. Our driver didn't even bat an eye as we swung by. Below, we picked up alongside the Indus River that leads into Leh. Lamayuru also marks a departure point into the super-remote and dry land of Zanskar.
At the 10 km-to-go mark our driver Dorje really opened up the throttle to get us to town by 8pm. I'm still unclear what the rush was as we'd been on the road since 6:30 am. In any case, we were dropped at the bus depot in Leh where I left behind my prescription sunglasses and all our maps for the next three months of travel (!). In a stupor we hailed a cab and made our way to the delightful Oriental Guesthouse in Changspa where the only drama of the night had been a cow that'd come up the steps for a snack in the flowerbed.
The next morning we were treated to a splendid view of the Stok peaks above the Indus Valley. Three days on and I still swear I'm seeing Bishop's Mt. Tom over my shoulder as we wander around town! (And--let's hear it for small towns--today we were able to retrieve our lost things from Dorje. Guess we can keep traveling after all.)
Blogger hates open ID, and keeps eating my comments. Grrr.
ReplyDeleteThese pictures are beautiful, though it is sad to think of the views marred by diesel fumes. I am enjoying your adventures vicariously.
Today, my big excitement was getting the crazy bus driver again. I think he has possibly figured out that I don't like when he yells at me about how sucky a job Obama is doing.
Other than that: good meeting with thesis adviser, and uneventful bike ride to grocery store.