Leh

Well here I am in Leh. The journey here was not of the easiest - 420 kms, 180 of them road and the rest "no road". When we left Srinigar it started to rain and it didnt stop for 2 days, that is till we were about 2 hours from Leh. On the way we crossed 3 unpaved passes with the highest being 3500 meters more or less, none of them were paved and the few sections that were were covered with muddy water - driving was excrutiatingly slow, mostly in
1st gear both because of the climb and because of the mud (Amit and I were especially careful, or cowardly) because on the return trip from Gulmarg (near Srinigaar) we both slipped, slid and fell at the same spot and do not want a repeat of it.

Despite the really hard ride we did manage to take many, many photos and when I reach Manali I will send them (it's expensive here and I am a well known cheapskate). How can I describe the scenery, its indescribable, but of course I'll give it the old college try. The first leg is through Kashmir and its all lush and green with little glaciers coming right up to the road and streams, tiny ones running across the roads and picturesque little villages and herdsmen and their tents and flocks and many soldiers and army
camps and deep ravines with the fast flowing Indus all along the way and it cuts through solid rock to get where its going and then after Kargil, a passionately Shi'ite town where we tried unsuccessfully to dry out (the second day I put nylon bags over my socks because my shoes were soaked) the whole world turns into a desert with high snow covered mountains and more
rain and two passes and mud and wet and cold and lots of "no road".

But we made it and met our friends from Kasol and got ourselves a lovely guest house which we have completely taken over - 5 rooms of Israelis (9 people) and one of Danes (2) and we run the place.

We decided to take a camping trip in the Nubra Valley and to get there you have to drive the worlds highest motorable road (according to BRO and The Lonely Planet) where the highest pass Khardung La reaches 18380 feet (don't ask me why feet, maybe a leftover from the Raj) which is about 5500 meters and it gets cold and there is not enough oxygen but the road, except for a
very few sections and the very steep climb - about 2000 meters in 40 kms, is quite an easy drive. So we're going camping and we've got everything including the kitchen sink and we reach the top in about 2 hours and we do the obligatory photos with bikes and sign and have the obligatory puff and we're on our way. Oops, no we're not, Gutte's bike won't start. Nachum, who had been miserable till then, suffering like me from the effects of the lack
of oxygen brightens up and in 10 minutes has the engine stripped and has found the problem, but 10 minutes turn into 2 hours and we're all suffering from the height so we stop a Tata and load the bike on and Gutte sets out for Leh again. End of Camping Trip! I had moaned about having to go camping but was now most dissapointed (wew have planned another shorter one for
tomorrow) and I am sure I would have moaned and whinged but I am truely saddened. the remaining 5 bikes turn around to follow Gutte and 10 minutes later Toto's bike dies - another Tata! Maya joined him for the ride and how they managed to roll a joint as the Tata bounced and jounced (is that a word?) down the road is beyond me. I was feeling pretty bad myself on the way down so I stopped and vomited. I also lost everybody else but arrived,
or limped "home" first.

After about 30 minutes during which iI just sat, the others started limping in too and Maya made us all a delicious potato soup which did much towards our recovery. Toto's bike was ready last night but Gutte's may take longer.

I think that the boys enjoy it more when their bikes break down, they seem to thrive on the adversity. Ah well, no Nubra valley this time, maybe next year. Any takers?

Now we are waiting to do the Leh-to-Manali road which is supposed to be the hardest and the next petrol station is 300 kms from here. There are 3 passes, all high and tough. But in the meantime we have met here a group of 70 Indian Enfield riders and if they can do it so can we, even though they were a ralley and rode empty with all their luggage on a truck and mechanics and 3 doctors. But hats off to them anyway.

Srinigar, Srinigar has captured my heart!

As I said in my last long mail Srinigar is special and I feel obliged to write more about it, even if its just to give a blow by blow description of our activities, and despite the tranquility of the houseboat we have managed to get up off our big fat arses (well mine is big and fat, it just seems [appropriate] to try and drag Amit and Maya down to my level).

The houseboat comes with two meals a day, breakfast is unfailingly eggs (scrambled or omletted), huge amounts of toast and a slalad. (What's a salad?). Dinner is usually fried lamb or liver or chicken and tonight we had an excellent lamb stew (at least I believe it was lamb but mutton can be either lamb or goat - you don't really want to ask) with vegetables, usually carrots, beans and potato. Our host Ayub is not, however, a very good cook and sometimes one has to really struggle to bite and chew the lamb stew was cooked by his father from whom he took over the business. Apparently the old man (probably 50) likes to keep his hand in. We have a fridge, the first time for any of us and that means we can keep milk, cheese, coke, water, fruit, ice cream - god, the posssibilities are endless. We are eating well and living off the fat of this land.

Each day we wake up around 8:30 (me) or 9:30 (my house-mates) and then breakfast is served half an hour later. During the interim, we drink coffee and have an early morning smoke. (ha). What to do with the day? Whew, that's a toughie. Everything, well almost everything is brought to our deck-step (my word I believe), all the shops you can imagine float up to our HB and
yell till we come out to tell them we don't want to buy anything, but they are nothing if not persistant and now and again we break down and allow them on board and then we are lost, we buy and buy and buy and buy.

There are jewellers, and woodcarvings and pashminas and papermache, mind you, they haven't brought carpets to the HB, for that we had to go to the shop and again I showed total lack of will power. I have bought too much and I want tovomit and I drool over my newest additions to the museum of kitch!

And then there are the fruit and vegetable guys, and the floating supermarket which has everything but at a 20% markup and the shishkebab wallah and the shikara taxis all needing to make a buck (and most of them subsist on that buck - most not all, some of them actually make a whole herd of bucks).

Some days we take a ride to a tourist site; Shalimar Bagh and Nishat Bagh the magnificent Moghul gardens, gulmarg, Indias most popular ski resort and claimant to the worlds highest golf course, a temple here a mosque there and of course a visit to a village about 35kms from here where the locals make imitation cricket bats (I've begun to take an interest in cricket since arriving here - it is almost impossible to ignore India's national sport and national passion).

And then there are drives around the city which are beautiful and going to Nehru park to watch the Indian tourists at play. They are mostly Punjabi (Punjab is just south and very, very hot at this time of year (Amritsar!). They come here in droves, the middle class with their 2.4 children and parents from both sides and two or three brothers or sisters and their kids and all 32 pile into a jeep and never complain but very rarely smile and because the language of Kashmir is Urdu the tourists mostly interact with the locals in English. And we take pictures of them and they of us, all very amicable.

But the best is when we take a day off and just lounge around the HB. The mornings are magnificent with the sun rising and shining on the Fort opposite us and sometimes we can see the mountains behind, snowtopped of course and the reflections in the sometimes mirrors-mooth lake. And the silence in the morning is wonderful and you hear the frogs croaking and the birds singing and in the lake are little ducks which dive and swim under the
water close to the surface so that we can follow their movements and then they pop up with a tiny fish in their tiny beaks. And all around are hawks and pigeons and two kinds of crows, the completely black and those with grey around the neck. And swallows and kingfishers and cuckoos and many others which I can't identify. They soar and swoop and dive and they're always
double, in the sky and in the water. And besides the various salesmen there are Shikara taxis and goods Shikaras going about their business completely oblivious of us.

We went for a lovely Shakira tour of the lakes, Dal and Nageen (we're on Nageen) to see the floating market - one hundred boatman all selling the same three types of vegetable all grown on the floating gardens which really do float and rise and fall with the level of the lake. You can get out and stand on them and they sink with your weight. Wherever you go on the lakes you see houseboats and all those who serve them, kiosks, bakeries, souvenier shops, carpet emporiams, restaurants - all on houseboats moored to the shore.

And when it gets too hot to sit around we jump off the deck into the lake which is unpoluted and just the right temerature for me. Then we get out and eat our icecream and watermelon or pineapple and wonder why we spent all that time in Kasol when we could have been here.

The people are friendly and even when we admit to being Israeli, not always of course, but when it seems okay, this does not change. All you have to say is that Kashmir is the best and they smile hugely. We feel pretty safe. Kashmir is indeed a sort of paradise on earth. If I have, in the past praised other parts of India, they all pale in comparison to the beauty and tranquility here.

I cannot resist sending many more photos, sorry (I don't really mean that).

Travels with my sister

I am now in Thekkady in Kerala at the Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary with my sister Paula who came to India to ride around for two weeks on the back of my motorcycle. She must be mad.
It is a cold and dirty day, the first I have had since arriving in India and we got up at 6 in the morning to catch the first tour boat at 7AM. We did catch it and spent a freezing 2 hours sailing around the park on a dirty old tourist boat but we did manage to see a few animals, some boars (of both sexes and all ages), a deer, a bison and 3 jackals tearing apart the carcass of a dead deer and the trip was calm and the scenery breathtaking (forgive me if in the continuation of this I use that word again but the last few days have been filled with breathtaking sights) so despite the cold a good time was had by all. Tomorrow we are going trekking and rafting through the park and we will definately take jackets!
Before coming here we spent 3 days in Munnar which is due east from Cochin but high up in the mountains and is a major tea growing area. The drive from Cochin to Munnar took us from the teeming city of the coast on a long winding, climbing road to high up in the mountains where it gets really cold (I ended up buying a jacket! Me, who never feels the cold). As we were entering Munnar I saw Gali (from Hampi and Cochin) by the side of the road and she sent us to the Aida hotel which was lovely with a great view out into the mountains and tea fields (fields?) which are breathtakingly beautiful even when you notice the tens of Indian women bending over and doing backbreaking labour so that we can all have our cuppa when we feel the urge, in fact they even add a certain rustic, pastoral beauty to the whole scene. Yup, thats what they do, add romance, I hope they never find a way of doing it mechanically
On the way from Cochin the view was breathtaking and we met our first close-up elephant who was a working stiff, it was pulling along a log right through the center of a little town. Along the way were many beautiful homes but one stood out, they kept a pet elephant! I would love to have one too.
From Munnar to Thekkady was just over 100 kms but it took us about 5 hours due to both the difficulty of the road - narrow winding, climbing, descending, potholefilled and various traffic coming at you from all directions at all angles and at sometimes death defying speeds. But the route was magnificent and we stopped often to take pictures! And more pictures! And then still more pictures. Of course when I print them out to put in albums I no longer remeber wher they were taken!!
Today was a shitty day for me, we booked and went on a bamboo-rafting and hiking tour through the reserve and I saw no bllody animals except for one deer and I was expecting to see elephants frolicing along the river banks or at the least doing the dance intro for The Simpsons show. Nada, nothing, zilch, I was screwes, I wanted to see elephants. I suddenly felt sympathy for all those Americans who stand there yelling "But I paid to see elephants (pigs, cucumbers, pine tres, factories or whatever). I thought that if I was paying the Indian equivalent of two weeks worth of a working mans wages, at the very least I should see one lousy pachyderm! I will never go to another Indian game resrve, never.
Tomorrow we are off to Kollayam to visit and cruise the famous backwaters of Kerala.
Wait for the next exciting episode - I will be back.

Hampi

I have just spent 8 days in Hampi. How I got there and away to where I now am (Om Beach) is irrelavant. Hampi was amazing, a tiny village nested up in the eastern plateau of Karnataka is one of the most beautiful sceneries (can I write that?) I have ever seen. The village, actually there are two but they are usually lumped together, sit on the two banks of a large, filthy river which has to be crossed by a dirty leaking about to die and sink motorboat which is about 3 meters long and can carry 20 people, 3 goats and 2 motorcycles (and of course the fervent prayers of all the occupants, including the goats (and they know they're going to be eaten that evening). The boatman is silent but his assistant, a boy of about 12 is loud enough for both and totally obnoxious, he has a squeaky voice and whines for money and in a couple of years will be squeezing the T and A of the girls crossing in the boat. You can also get across in coracles (look that up if you need to know) but they are out of the way - though they charge less for motorbikes.
Because of the scenery Hampi is full of tourists, in Hampi proper you will find tavellers and tourists from all over the world but no Israelis, on the other side, in you will find travellers and tourists from all over Israel but very few, and those only the very brave, from anywher else. The Israeli side is, like Arambol, geared for Israelis, all the guest houses and restaurants serve Israeli favourites, the computers are all geared for Hebrew and many of the locals have adopted Hebrew names to make us feel more at home (and thus willing to part more easily with our untold riches (all tourists are by definition millionaires!). Little Israel, just like "The Valley" in LA. And for a while it worked, every day I ate 'shipuddim" (Shishlik) or Israeli breakfast or borekkas at a different place but after 5 days it all blurred into one and I had to leave (Thats why I'm in Om Beach now). Also because of the neverending satla brought on by what I personally consider Primo grass. If you do get to Hampi dont pay more than 500 rhupees for a 10 gram packet!
In Hampi ther are the ruins (huge) of an old temple site and I did the right thing and walked around the complex for about 2 hours and was then "templed out". There is also another temple which has an elephent which blesses you, by patting your head with its trunk for a rhupee, and 50 more to take a picture. Of course I did that.
On the Israeli side you can rent a bike or motorbike and ride through magnificent rock formations to visit the nearby lake, which may or may not have crocodiles in it, whatever, when I was there a numbe of tourists (Okay, Israelis) were swimming despite the rumours. there is also the Hanoman (or Monkey) temple to which I had to climb 600 steps (Thanks Jeremy, for getting me into shape). The view from the top is amazing and the Baba who lives there has a sattelite dish and a chillum. You can see forever in every direction and the ground is covered with huge piles of cacked rocks that look like they were put ther by a 5 year old playing with blocks. And all around green fields and palm trees and little hovels for the locals.

Moving around

Hi Guys. I have left Hampi (which I havent yet written about) and am now on the coast again at a beautiful place called Om Beach in Karnataka (if you are looking at a map of India, which I'm sure you not).

Still doing good and riding my bike - mind you with all the crappy roads, and yu cannt imagine just how crappy they can be - I am now , right now, at this moment putting i into a garage for servicing and tomorrow I'll get it back so I can move on to my next stop which will be Mysore for major book aquisitions, I'm running out of reading material and the book shops here are awesome.

Planet Arambol

Last night, my last night in Arambol, yes, I have escaped from "The Land Of The Lotus Eaters" and I am now somewhere else.

Anyway, last night i was invited to a party that some people were having at a house that some of them had rented, many people who plan to spend a long time in Arambol rent houses, its cheaper over time and you have extra amenities like TV and kitchen, so there I was at this party.

There were about 25 people there and I have no idea who most of them were or who lived there or whatever but in that room was the biggest collection of drug smoking parephernalia I have ever seen and I have seen quite a few rooms in my time, there were bongs and chillums and joints and a pitero (I think thats what its called). And the various instruments were in all shapes and colours and sizes and some had names and special cases and whatever and WAS I impressed! And they all knew exactly what to do and how to prepare the different implements and they all shared the work and the bongs and chillum and piteros and joints went marching endlessly around the room. Then the hosts brought out the 'piece de resistance' - 'space cookies' and after about an hour everybody was totally stoned. People were either sitting down nodding to the loud techno(?) music or wandering aimlessly about and I looked around at these 23 - 24 - 25 year olds and thought to myself what great kids they are, real salt of the earth. Done their time, paid their dues and now they want to go out and taste as much of life as they can till the mortgage hangs heavy round their necks.

they worked hard to get here and they upped and left their safe secure homes to spend 40 hours on the train with 30000 wild Indians to get from Delhi to Goa and they didnt moan or complain. they planned and worked out and bargained and priced and made friendships and developed caring and trust - Awesome young people.

And most of them dont drink or smoke cigerettes and before India they didnt smoke drugs either and when they go home they either will or they wont but they will - to paraphrase Bogie "Always have India" So Adi and Yakov and Ariel and Yafit and Ronit and Omri and Shpitz and Chen and Adi, just go on having fun till you decide its time.