Tuesday, June 7th: Morning Markets and Jon arrives!

David and I got up at 4:15 am to be ready for our next exciting adventure – and exciting it was. Nizar picked us up in the Dastan Deluxe and off we went in the silent night.

As the sky began to lighten we began to see canoes and skiffs joining us in the bay area. There were only a few shirakers, carrying tourists like us. All of the other boats were filled with men, with boats filled with vegetables – garlic, sag (spinach or some other leafy green vegetable), carrots, radishes, squash, turnips.

Here's a video that tries to capture some of the feeling that morning: hundreds of boats, passing each other in the early morning light, people calling out (in Kashmiri) their wares:



What was really amazing to Dave--the environmental anthropologist in the group--was how given the limited arable land, the local people had grown these vegetables in aqueous gardens they had built up by combining algae/sea-weed from the lake with what must have been in places naturally marshy land. Here's a video showing these floating gardens:




And a few more photos of the not-so-floating gardens (remember they're not all floating or all not floating; land, space, and place here are on a continuum...oh here we go with academic navel gazing)

The boatsmen were bargaining with a couple of buyers regarding how much they were to be paid for their wares. Most of the boats had a scale with weights, in which to measure the vegetables.

Nizar did a little interpretation for us. At one time, we were approached by a boatsman selling chocolate candy stored in a chest. When he opened it up, he had fudge, truffles, and other chocolate items. Since Jo says that finding real chocolate in India means it is imported, this was very unusual. We did not buy any, but were approached by a number of vendors in their boats:

Such as flower boats...

vegetable sellers....

Dave was amazed at how many people were also wearing "his" Kasmiri hat...

... and a spice man.

We called him back and he proceeded to show us his wares. I did buy some saffron (after receiving an in-depth lesson re how the six pistils (3 yellow/3 red) were harvested by hand, sorted, and used for different purposes. The red pistils are used to make the red dye used for bindis, the red marks worn by Indian women in the middle of their foreheads to indicate that they are married. I also bought a mixture of spices that go into Kashmiri tea –we will try it and see if it reproduces the lovely flavor – cardamom, cinnamon, honey, saffron, and a few leaves of tea. It was great to do this, and I loved meeting the man who grew these crocuses for the purpose of harvesting the pistils for making the saffron.


We watched the entire spectacle for some time, and then began the return to our houseboat at about 6 am. The sun was just coming up over the mountains; the sunrise was beautiful.

Off we went for our last shikara ride, and bid a fond farewell to Nazir Ahmad Sheikh who had made our trip so special.

Getting onto the plane was quite an experience. This is the state with the largest potential for conflict since the area is hotly contested by both India and Pakistan, and the people do not want to belong to either but be independent. After another harrowing ride to the airport, the car was stopped. We all had to get out of the car, get our bags, and have everything xrayed before we could continue. Then we were stuck in some alternate merge between three lanes of traffic – and we sat and sat. Then onto the airport proper. The bottom line is that Jo and I were frisked (behind special curtained areas reserved for women) five times, our carry-on luggage was xrayed five times, and our baggage went through a security check several times. Finally onto the plane and then back to Delhi.

We now noticed some things about Delhi traffic that we had not noticed before because we had had no experience with driving in India. There were divided roads and people did not drive the wrong-way (for the most part) down a street. There were traffic lights and the drivers actually stopped on red, and went on green. Amazing. Much less cutting in and out (less is the operative word). The roads were still crowded with autorickshaws and motorcycles.

We got back to the apartment and got settled in, and then David and Jim turned around and went back to the airport to get Jonathan. Quite exciting when he arrived! Great for us all to be together although it would have been much better if Gita could have been with us too.

To bed for all, although Jonathan had a hard time shifting his bedtime around.

Monday, June 6: Gulmarg

We had a leisurely breakfast and headed to the taxi stand for a 9:30 departure to Gulmarg, a town about 40+ km away from Srinigar, which has one of the best ski resorts in this area of India.

Another horrific ride in India, caught in snarls of traffic, incessant honking, roads filled with potholes as we got closer and closer to the town of Gulmarg and the real Himalayas.

Along the way, we saw multiple groups of nomads, with usually two or three adults with horses or sheep. On Sunday we saw a horse herd being led by a man in a cloak, and a woman bringing up the rear. They live in hutched roof buildings some of which we saw as we took the cable car ride up the mountain and also at the top when we walked in the meadow.

We passed through several small congested towns, and then began to rise up through a fragrant forest of pine and other trees, very green and shady. Ultimately (about 3 hours later with more than an hour to get through the chaotic traffic of Srinigar) we got to Gulmarg. There were two portions to the gondola ride. Initially Jo and I were going to do the first portion and let Jim and David go up to the very top of the mountain. However the second portion had closed down the day before so the ride was only open to the first station. Jo decided not to go, but I finally did after a fair amount of hemming and hawing. Each car held up to six people, and I, as usual, kept my eyes either closed or on the side as we climbed up for the 8 minute ride. Going both up and back the ride stopped for about a minute, and I practiced by yoga deep breathing! We got to the top and had some coffee and then headed off to the green meadow.

It was beautiful and it was hard not to envision it as the site for Julie Andrews singing “The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Music”, so we decided to do a Meek family rendition of that song. David set a self timer and we all held hands and ran towards the camera.

Then we walked off to the edge of the meadow to see the valley below. I heard a sheep and a lamb calling each other, and then saw a shepherd coming up the hill to round them up. We were amazed to look down into the valley, and be greeted with a scene straight from New Zealand. There were so many sheep, walking between the rocks down below, all baah-ing to each other.

There were two shepherds and a small nomad’s hut, probably used by the shepherds. The sheep were herded up the valley wall and into the meadow and many walked right next to us. They were marked with a variety of colors on their backs, presumably so they could be identified. There were a few black sheep but most were white. There were also a number of horses grazing in the meadow but they did not seem particularly interested in us.

We had a picnic of hard-boiled eggs, some chipatis, and some energy bars. The repast may not have been the fanciest one we have ever eaten, but it was hard to match the scenery with the spectacular peaks of the Himalayas towering overhead, still covered with snow in areas. Blue skies, white clouds, green meadows. Truly breathtaking.

A brief shiraker ride back to New Fountain Garden, and David and Jo headed out for their romantic evening ride with Nizar.

Although it started to rain shortly after they left, they had a fabulous time. Nizar tucked them in with a tarp, and they continued in the back bay area.

It stopped raining and they loved exploring the markets and the site of all of the shirakers going through the canals.

They were out for about an hour-and-a-half and said it was the most memorable part of their trip to Srinikar – which is saying something.

The back bays are very interesting. We explored them the night before, and saw women working amongst the lotus blossoms and pulling what turned out to be water chestnuts, since they didn’t belong there. We saw some floating vegetable gardens where people plant cucumbers, pumpkins, squash, and tomatoes. We were surprised at the number of homes that were behind the row of houseboats that we are part of. There are homes ranging from shacks, to very elaborate two story brick buildings where six related families live. Many of the homes had built up the backyards so they have vegetable gardens there.

AND they said that Nizar told them about a vegetable market in the canals that started early in the morning. Jo thought she would pass on it, as did Jim, but David wanted to go and asked me to go with him. Naturally I agreed. Since we were to be picked up by Nizar at 4:30 am the following morning, we had dinner and went to bed early without any Hearts. We noted that Jonathan was finally on his way and we would be seeing him in .about 24 hours!

Not a very restful night – neighbors chatting late into the night, up at 2, call to prayer at 3:15, awake at 4, awakened again at 5:00 for call to prayer. Watched the sun come up over the mountains, listening to all of the birds including roosters announcing the dawn.

Hazy over the mountains, man in boat picking up the morning's seaweed...

First salesman of the morning has come to visit, but they are very polite. They ask if you want whatever they are selling, and if you say no, they move away. .

A very strange scene has just happened. The great-grandfather was sitting on the porch next to us, and a boat arrived with two older women with women dressed in white, with their dresses with very tiny patterns on the white cloth dresses, and an old gentleman dressed in white with a small cap. They came up the steps, and the women knelt at the older man’s feet, and one began to keen. The older man who had come with them helped the woman up and they went back in the garden followed by the “great-grandfather”.

The owner came to talk to us and explained that his brother died five years ago. (We think he was the owner of the New Flower Garden.) He also said that they used to have tourists from all over the world. The major group came through a travel agency in Singapore, and they had a large group of tourists from New Zealand, Australia, Holland. Then there was a period of ten years there were no tourists whatsoever when the militants were fighting the military. He noted that he had to sell gold that he had in order to support his family. Then Indian tourists began to come, and relatively recently people from other countries began to return for visits to this area. He said things are getting better now. Perhaps that is the reason why the interior of the houseboat looks like no one has spent any money on the furnishings for at least 20 years.

After a breakfast of omelettes and toast, and some watermelon, we headed off with Dustan, our favorite shikara boatsman, across Lake Dal, to meet Mr. Firdous. He took us to three gardens as well as to Pari Muhal, which is the ruin that we can see at night all lit up on the side of one of the nearby mountains.

We went to the Mughal Garden, as well as to Shalimar gardens. I think all of us thought that that was the most beautiful of the gardens. It was laid out in the 1600’s and was a gift from a husband to his wife. Much of it was formal, like Longwood, and there were fountains down a long allee with flowers blooming on both sides.

There were many many fantastic saris in beautiful colors, and many children dressed in what can only be described as “glitzy” outfits.

Some of the children looked very hot! A number of people appeared fascinated with us, probably because we are foreigners and white and tall! A few people asked to take pictures with me, and initially I did not, but then decided to agree. I was part of a picture with about 15 girls all giggling. I wish I had asked the gentleman taking the picture to take one with my camera as well! Next time!

We then went to the Blooming Dale hotel with Mr. Firdious, and had a nice lunch with chicken, rice, rajma (kidney beans cooked in a thick red sauce), yoghurt, and fresh cucumbers, carrots, and tomatoes which looked lovely but I did not have any – we have not gotten sick yet and I would like to keep it that way! It was a little disconcerting to have Mr. Firdous watch us eat after he served us, but Jo said that is frequently how it happens in India. David and Jim left and Jo and I went up to the papier mache area to see all of the things he had on display. We learned that old paper is soaked for two weeks in water, and then the paper is pounded into pulp. It is then mixed with rice water to make a paste. A form is wrapped in paper, and then the paste is applied and allowed to dry. When it is ready, the item is cut into two parts, it is remove from the mold, the two pieces are glued together, and then the item is painted. The cost of the item is primarily derived from the amount of detail in the painting.

Back to the porch of the houseboat for some lovely relaxation time, including some superfudge brownies for David and Jo. We then bought a watermelon from one of the boats which was very interesting, particularly since the boatman was deaf.

Later Jo bought soda and sparkling water from one of the snack boats. We then sat and watched the never-ending parade of shikaras on the lake, filled with tourists in all kind of colorful garb. We took pictures of many of the boats – and they took pictures of us. It looked almost like a race or Central Park in New York when all of the little boats come out on the lake. Each boat is painted differently, many have decorated hulls, the canopies may have ruffles. I am now watching David paddle the skiff back (today because it is windy only one person can go out in the boat at a time) but due to the density of shikaras in front of the houseboat, he had a hard time getting the boat back to the dock.

Well, that was the beginning of a VERY exciting evening. Jo and David surprised us with a “romantic evening cruise” with Nizar Ahmed Sheikh, our boatsman from Dastan. They gave us each a chrysanthemum from the window boxes at the New Flower Garden, and had a diet coke and a beer for our pleasure.

We got into the boat at about 6:40 and set off on our cruise. It was lovely and the light was beautiful. We were rowed down the lake towards where it opens up, and it became clear that it was becoming very windy and there was some significant wind to row against. It was also becoming a little cloudy.

The boatman turned into a back bay with many channels that we didn’t even know was there. He rowed us onto Lotus Lake, which was filled with Lotus leaves with their characteristic flat shape and turned edges.

The sky was getting very grey and there were some spatters of rain, but we kept on in the back area. There were now many shirakars there, and the boatman said that it was because the water and the wind were so rough on the lake.

We saw a number of ducks, many moving in groups, and some kites (birds like hawks). There were also chickens. As we continued we saw some fantastic houseboats with elaborate carvings and fabulous chandeliers that we could see. It continued to get darker and darker and the wind got stronger. Out of nowhere appeared shops, selling many different handicrafts – shawls, kameez fabric, carved wooden furniture, the boatyard where new shirakars are made, a papier mache factory, a corner store filled with everything it looked like someone would want (including those ubiquitous chips) – all built out into the water. There are no roads in the back; everything is brought in by large boats. By now, it was really getting dark and very very windy, and it began to really rain. Nazar (?Nassar) was really working hard now, and was not making much headway because of the wind which caught the top of the shiraker which then acted like a sail. There had been a few phone calls on his cell phone (later we found out that one was from a worried David and Jo). Finally Nassar could not make any progress at all; it was cold, the wind was strong, and the water was very choppy. The boat blew against the side of a building and it was clear that we weren’t going anywhere. It was very scary. A skiff or canoe boat like the one we have at the New Flower Garden appeared, and Nizar said that we needed to get out of the shiraker and get into the other boat. My balance is never very good, and at night in a shaky boat with wind and rain – well, this was not my finest hour, but we didn’t capsize and I didn’t fall in. Both Nassar and the other young man (someone he called and paid to come help us), began to paddle furiously. We turned the corner from the canal onto Dal Lake and the wind was incredibly strong trying to push against the boat no matter how hard the men paddled. I was really scared by now, although I kept telling myself the worst thing that would happen was that we would capsize and I could swim to the nearest houseboat. I began to look at the names of each houseboat, and began to see ones that were close to us. With great relief, we pulled up to the dock for the New Flower Garden. David and Jo were very happy to see us, and we were happy to be off the water. The storm became even more forceful, there was a lot of thunder, and a lot of rain. The houseboat rocked a little on its moorings – and the power went out. The had some ancillary power so we were able to finish our dinner, and play a few rounds of Hearts before everyone went to bed after a long and exhausting day. I was very worried about Nasser and the other young man, and found out the next day that they had had a lot of trouble getting home. Also Nasser lost his glasses during the storm.

June 3rd-Srinagar-Day 2

Up early, and having our first cups of coffee and tea of the day. The stillness on the lake in the early morning compared to the bustling lake at 6 pm is an interesting contrast. At about 6 pm, the lake is filled with tourist boats, people going on late afternoon rides, frequently the boats are filled with women dressed with saris, sometimes with children but not with men. After a nice breakfast of eggs, toast, and tea we sat on the porch and listened to David play the banjo, while Jo read, and I journaled.

Then we were off on our adventure of the day to meet Mr. Firdous Ahmad, from Blooming Dale (A House of Handicrafts/ Travel Related Services), the gentleman who has befriended David and offered to do everything he can to make our visit to Sringar memorable. He owns both the Sunshine Hotel as well as the Blooming Dale which was where David tried to book us for that first night.

We took our ride across the lake with our favorite shirakar boatmen, Dustan, and then we walked to the Sunshine Hotel, met Mr. Firdous. He took us through the Old City which was filled with small alleys, with stores lining both sides of the street. Many people were out in the street, including Muslim women dressed completely in black, with a small mesh screen for their eyes.

The Old City was very interesting since many of the buildings are many centuries old. Some of the buildings are built of brick with several layers of wood in the middle and then more bricks; apparently this was done to stabilize the building from earthquakes, although Mr. Firdous says they happen very infrequently. The bricks are very tiny, and all handmade.

Mr Firdous took us to the most famous mosque in Sringar, which we were able to go inside. The mosque was very huge filled with perhaps a thousand prayer rugs where men kneel to pray, five times a day. Mr. Firdous said that on Friday each of the prayer rugs was occupied. Each of the huge pillars in the mosque was made from a cedar tree. The ceiling was quite ornate, and the outside of the building was decorated with papier mache flowers, and the ceilings were decorated with elaborate papier mache designs.

It was quite beautiful and was apparently built in the 1400s, burned at some time, and rebuilt in the 1600s. There was a dome covered with pigeons. Many men dressed in white garments sat around the building and stared at us. Several old people approached, asking for money. I continue to be uncomfortable about not giving money to these unfortunate people and think I will start carrying small change to give.

We were then taken back to Mr. Firdous’ hotel, and given wonderful tea, which he said was made by boiling cardamom pods and cinnamon sticks for five minutes with a cover, then a small amount of honey, saffron, and tea leaves were added, brewed for perhaps three minutes, and the tea was strained and poured. It was delicious, and certainly something I will try at home.

We then headed home in an autorickshaw (different then the ones in Darjeeling) and another harrowing ride back to the Boulevard. Jo and I went to visit Nick the Jeweler who had been so helpful with my ring. The two gentlemen immediately recognized me, and asked how my finger was doing, which was very nice of them. Jo and I looked at lots of jewelry, and picked up several treasures!

Back to the New Flower Garden for a rest, and then up to watch the incredible variety of shikaras on the lake. Jim went out on the lake on the skiff, and then David asked me if I would like to go out with him. It was so special, and lovely. David rowed us down to the portion of the lake just before it opened into a portion of the lake where motorboats and jet skis are allowed. It was so much fun to be out with the other shikaras, and to be part of the busy scene, rather than observing from the deck of the houseboat, as though we were at the beach, observing the people, the waves, etc.

David then took Jo out, and was afraid that the boat was taking on water. He rowed rapidly back, and tried to keep Jo from finding out why they were going back so fast! He was afraid she would panic!

Now, time for my first bucket shower. The water on the houseboat was warm but there was no water pressure. So, the technique is that you fill the large bucket with warmish water, pick up the small measuring cup and stand or sit in the bathtub and pour the water over you. Stop, soap, more water, repeat. Same with shampooing. Overall I thought it was a lot of fun – certainly much better than the 45 degree water shower from the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon!

June 3rd: Views of Srinagar from a house boat

Jim and I were awakened at 5 am by the sound of men praying and chanting. It was one of the five times a day that men pray – quite moving in the stillness of a town not yet awake. We looked out the window for a while and saw the shakaras beginning to move as people began to come from the far side of the lake into town for the day. Small children dressed for school, boatloads of tourists with their luggage in another boat. Women with their heads covered, an occasional woman in a burka.

Jim and I decided to go for a walk, and went all of the way down the lake to where the lake widened. So many things to look at – a military man standing up through a sunroof, the driver’s window and side windows completely covered with essentially a wire fence, children standing by the side of the road, all dressed for school in a variety of uniforms and the parent who was with them was their father -- almost no women were seen--, and a boat filled with some green material being pushed by another boat

Early morning boat transporting just harvested algae/sea weed, which will be dried and sold as fertilizer

Woman miraculously perched on her long boat




– and looking at that was literally my downfall. I was looking at the boat and did not see the rock in the dirt path which I tripped on and BANG down I went, right onto my chest, my forehead, my chin, and my hand. I was very lucky. The major injury was to my chin, which promptly began to swell. The pain in my head and chin was pretty bad, and I think I was very stressed by everything that had happened in the first 18 hours in Srinigar, and I began to cry. Finally we got back to the hotel, got my chin cleaned up, and off we went to find something to eat. After a cappuccino at the coffee store, and a few parathas with potatoes and cheese that David brought from a nearby store, we were ready to move on with the business of the day – finding a houseboat so we could move from the oh-so-charming Hotel Sunshine.

Jo, David and I headed off in an autorickshaw to find a shakar boat that could help us in our search. We found a very nice older man who really did a great job. He took us all around this portion of the lake, and Jo and David went into every boat that had two rooms open for tonight and the next two nights. We were looking for Super Deluxe because anything less was probably not going to be acceptable.

As an aside, you are taking a big flyer on this whole experience because you are contracting for breakfast and dinner as well as accomodations –and you are essentially on a boat you can’t get off of. We finally found the New Flower Garden, which after some negotiation of price, and then going off to see some more boats, we finally settled upon.

Back to the hotel to get Jim, off to the same restaurant for a quick lunch, a quick stop for fruit, bread and water – and then back across the lake to our new home. Decorated in an eclectic Victorian fashion with gingerbread railings, chandeliers, oriental carpets in various stages of repair, and a glorious view of mountains surrounding the lake, the boat was deemed perfect and we settled in.

As I sit on the porch, and watch all of the amazing yellow boats with colorful roofs that are filled with tourists go by, I marvel that we are actually sitting in India.

See anyone you recognize?

David and Jo are currently off in a skiff, enjoying an early evening boat ride.

Jim has been up on the roof, enjoying the late afternoon sun, and I have been journaling – looking up after every few words to admire the amazing parade of boats going, by while there is a background of chants coming from across the water. Truly like a scene from a movie. The pictures will not capture the sense of enchantment. The scene from our porch is completely unbelievable – boats, kayaks, crew teams in kayaks, and a huge selection of salesman coming by in boats -- flowers, fresh vegetables, fresh fruit, dried fruit and nuts, “cashmere sweaters”, snacks, water, camera chips –

Dinner consisting of a chicken dish, green beans, rice, dal, and a semolina dessert (pretty much the consistency of milky cream of wheat) with almonds, cardamom pods, and raisins. Then we all learned to play the beginner’s version of Oh Hell, or Diminishing Bridge. Our host appeared to clean up the kitchen, and then bought some books for us to look at which dated from the time that his grandfather started the “Flower Garden” houseboat in the early 1900’s. The first letters dated from 1916; many were fragmenting. We only looked at a few of the initial pages, but he left them with us to look at later. Off to bed, with noisy neighbors on the bordering boats – but of course since dinner in this country is frequently at 10 pm, they were probably just enjoying after-dinner conversation.