Kashmir Trip with Sweet and Sour Experiences
I have lived in Kashmir thirty years ago, when the situation there was so bad that there was no government and everything was under the control of the army, either the army or the militants and in between them were the common Kashmiris, about whom I had formed the impression that perhaps the best people in the country are in this region – but now after coming to Kashmir after thirty years, I am seeing that impression being badly shattered.
There's another difference—the raw beauty of that Kashmir was different from this human-turned-jungle Kashmir. Thirty years ago, Kashmir was what I saw in my schoolbooks; what it is now is completely different—but different doesn't mean it's like a tier-one city like Delhi or Mumbai, or a tier-two city like Lucknow. Rather, the waste disposal facilities here make it worthy of a tier-five city.
Well, if I were to chronicle my six-day journey, it would begin with my arrival in Jammu. If you travel to other cities in India, you immediately realize you've reached a difficult situation upon arrival. Your SIM cards are deactivated before you even reach Jammu, as if you've reached another country. I knew this, so I switched to a postpaid SIM card online through "My Jio," but that didn't work either. Now, consider the logic behind this: you had to go to their store and get it postpaid, so that KYC could be done—meaning they issue the SIM card after biometric verification, but they don't consider it KYC.
So, if KYC is so important, how can you get a new prepaid SIM card at the same time, using the same process? What security standards apply there? So, the first problem is turning on your phone, without which you're left without a valid card. The second problem is getting from Jammu to the Valley. First, get something from here and get there, then catch a ride from there—meaning, you'll have to worry a little before you can find a ride to Srinagar or somewhere else that suits you.
One way to reach Kashmir is to fly to Srinagar Airport, but even there, tickets are not readily available during peak hours, and rates are often doubled or tripled. Then, as soon as you leave the airport, you'll have to struggle to reach your destination. What exactly—this will be revealed in a two-part post. Nothing here is as easy as these video-making YouTubers make it seem.
One option is to reach by your own vehicle, but even there, there's the possibility of forced checking and extortion at many places, and in many places, you'll be denied permission to proceed further. This means that only union-registered taxis operate in those areas. So, even with your own vehicle, you'll have to take local transport to Sonamarg, Pahalgam, Gulmarg, Chashme Sahi, etc.—which can be a very unpleasant experience.
However, the best option is to book a package from a tour operator. They have their own arrangements, so you'll have minimal hassle. You might find their charges to be high—but it's also possible that after traveling on your own, you'll be left wishing you hadn't hired a tour operator.
Well, let's now turn to the option I chose—and what were its pros and cons. Two of us arrived in Jammu in the morning on the Jammu Tawi Express from Lucknow. To get to Pahalgam (since our booking was in Pahalgam), one option was to go to the bus station and catch a bus (getting to Pahalgam would require four vehicle changes), and the other was to take our booked taxi or a shared taxi, and even that was a hassle.
The taxi we booked cost around eight thousand, which seemed excessive. This meant that the road trip from Lucknow to Pahalgam would have cost eleven thousand rupees—which seemed odd. Shared taxis were available for Srinagar, but not for Pahalgam. There were two options: a small four-seater for 1500 per person, or a larger seven-seater for 1300. We chose a sedan because we didn't want to travel in crowds. The rest of the journey was no less challenging.
Now, understand problem number two here: the government doesn't offer any proper and convenient arrangements for reaching Srinagar, and even with the existing ones, you'll have to endure a bit. Train tracks are being built, but the plan is to run only fancy and expensive trains like the Vande Bharat on them. Other trains will operate in two separate sections, as they do now—from Jammu to Udhampur and then on to Banihal or Sangaldan via Srinagar to Baramulla.
Reaching the valley from Jammu requires crossing Patnitop (not a place, but a mountain range) and a large mountain range in the form of the Pir Panjal, and this is the most troubling part of the route. The road is bad in many places, and becomes even more dangerous during the rainy season. By the time we reached Qazigund, my wife felt unwell and had to vomit several times along the way. This is a route (an entire mountain range) where you feel almost helpless. You feel trapped. The thought of what would happen next keeps running through your mind if something happens here.
After crossing this mountain range, we finally reached Qazigund, where the road is straight, flat, and well-maintained... which we crossed without any problems, but the road ahead was once again difficult. Three people in the taxi were going to Pahalgam, but he still had to go to Srinagar. He dropped us off at a crossroads in Anantnag, saying that we could get a taxi to Pahalgam from there, but we stood there for a long time and still couldn't find any means of transport.
Now, let's understand problem number three... Transportation in Kashmir is extremely poor, and the government has no control over it. Most of it is managed by unions, whose attitude is one for locals and another for outsiders. In Lucknow, you can find transportation like man-puller rickshaws, e-rickshaws, autos, tempos, city buses, or Ola and Uber as soon as you step out of your house, and you know in advance what you'll be paying for your trip.
Barring a few exceptions, all other rates are fixed, there might be some variation here and there - but in the name of buses, there are only a few mini buses plying here and there, on which you can neither rely to plan your journey nor can you expect anything from them in an emergency. Mainly, taxis run in the form of Tavera, which can charge you ten times the price of an outsider (if hired for yourself) or if it is a shared one, they do not give you a ride immediately after seeing an outsider. Apart from these, only in Srinagar will you find Tiktik (rickshaw) or auto, but on seeing an outsider and a tourist, they also charge four to five times the price.
So, when we got frustrated, we asked an auto driver. He told us that taxis to Pahalgam weren't available from here, and we'd have to go to the Pahalgam taxi stand. It was a short distance away, but since we couldn't walk with our luggage, we asked him to drop us off. He took a hundred rupees and dropped us off four steps away. There, we learned that there was a traffic jam in Pahalgam, and no one would go. If you book your own taxi, we'll go. When I asked him the fare, he immediately told me it was three thousand. Pahalgam is forty kilometers from Anantnag.
I probably would have given up seeing the trouble, but then a shared taxi driver agreed, so we went in that. We saw a traffic jam before entering Pahalgam, so he took us on the mountain path, where people travel on mules – but due to the traffic jam, people had come up there too, so there was a traffic jam there too. Somehow we reached Pahalgam market – my wife's condition had deteriorated a lot, and seeing her, I too started feeling unwell due to tension. Actually, the taxi was supposed to go till Pahalgam, but then it started arguing, but refused to go further and started returning from there. As a result, we had to get down there.
There's a Samir Bhai in Srinagar, he's a close friend of mine. When told that my younger brother was coming for a trip, he took it upon himself to arrange for the hotel and the car. Now, upon reaching Pahalgam, we don't know which hotel to go to, and our other phones are out of order. We can't call anyone, and no one can call us. We stand in the market, bewildered. Then, forced to buy a SIM card right away, activate it, and then we can talk.
Pahalgam is divided into two parts, all along a single main road. There's a gap of about a kilometer and a half between them. We found out our hotel was in the farther part. Now, we couldn't find any means of transport. Had my wife not been unwell, we would have walked. A kilometer and a half isn't too far to cover on foot. With great difficulty, a Tavera driver agreed to go further, but he charged three hundred rupees for such a short distance—even though he was going in that direction. It wasn't as if he was going there just for us.
Somehow we reached the hotel, but the state of the room spoiled our mood. In Pahalgam, most people have converted their homes into hotels and advertise them as if they were high-end hotels. A large network of brokers exists to arrange car and hotel accommodations, all connected to each other. So, they get customers through them. However, their charges aren't low—2000+. There's no staff, and the room lacks any hotel-like amenities. We got angry at Sameer Bhai, who had arranged the accommodation, and we confronted the hotel owner. Embarrassed, he moved us to a more decent room the next day, separate from the rest of the house.
Now, let's talk about Pahalgam... It's situated on both sides of the road that runs along the Lidder River. The main Pahalgam market area is a bit standard. High mountains are visible all around. It's much colder than Srinagar, so I needed warmers and jackets here during my Kashmir tour. You can visit four places from here, two of which are on one route—Betab Valley and Chandanwadi, and one, Aaru Valley, is on another route. Another place, Baisaran Valley, is on the hill behind it—for which you have to hire a mule.
Even the mule drivers try their best to rob you of your pockets, and it's up to you to bring them down. A minimum of four hundred per person can be charged, if you have the ability... The fixed rates here are just for show. For Aru Valley, Betaab Valley, and Chandanwadi, you'll have to go to the taxi stand, which is located between the two settlements of Pahalgam. There are different rates for all vehicles and for different routes—you can choose one destination, two, or even all three.
If you're alone or in a group, it'll cost more, but if you're four or six, the same fare is cheaper. The minimum for all three destinations is 2,500 rupees. Chandanwadi was closed due to the trip, so I chose the Aru and Betaab route for 2,000 rupees. We went to Aru Valley, which I can only say is a good place, but for a picnic—the problem is that the taxi driver will only allow us for an hour and will charge extra. Although the place is only 12 kilometers away, we were supposed to return from there and go to Betaab Valley, but there was a traffic jam there. Hearing this, the person told me that if you decide to go, you'll have to pay the full fare as soon as you take that route, and if you try, you won't even get there.
Obviously, who would decide to go in such a situation? I declined, and he charged fifteen hundred rupees for that one Aru Valley. Where we were staying, there's no facility for medical emergencies; it's in the main Pahalgam area. The problem is that that single road is jammed most of the time, so there's no telling how long it will take, and you won't find any other means of transport from there. Only Taveras run there, which tourists don't readily afford. If you call a private taxi or take that Tavera to the reserve, he'll charge two or three hundred rupees for the same distance.
At least in Pahalgam, the food is third-class, with non-vegetarian street food. You won't find roti in most places in Kashmir, and even rice is served by those fat people—which we couldn't stomach. We stayed in Pahalgam for two days, but the only food that offered any satisfaction was chicken tikka—otherwise, whether Hindu or Muslim, vegetarian or non-vegetarian, the food was all rubbish.
We left for Srinagar early on the third day. There are two options for getting from Pahalgam to Srinagar: either take a shared taxi and jostle through Anantnag, or book your own. This can cost three to three and a half thousand rupees. We didn't want to take the Anantnag route, so we took our own taxi and reached Srinagar. Although it had already taken half the day, we decided to explore Dal Lake in the remaining day.
It spans a vast area, but in the style of Mumbai's Marine Drive, one side of it adjoins the road, with gates at every few distances where the boatmen gather. As soon as you arrive, they'll surround you, hang around your neck—making it difficult to escape. One more thing to understand: everywhere you'll be told, "We'll show you so many points, so many points..." And what do these points mean—such and such a shooting took place here, such and such a shooting took place there, so and so used to come here, Dhimake did this, this is the floating market, this is the Meena Bazaar. In reality, if you don't have a childish side, these points mean nothing.
Simply put, you'd like to see the lake. It's dotted with islands, villages, floating markets, and a fixed Meena Market. Every few steps, a salesman will approach you with his boat—some will take photos, others will offer tea or coffee, and others will sell shawls and clothes. The Shikara operators will quote three to four thousand rupees, but some can even go as low as two thousand. Others, after whining, charged us two and a half thousand rupees. Whether it's the Shikara operators or the horsemen, you have to pay them the agreed amount and a tip. There's a tiny island in the lake, known as Char Chinar, after its Chinar trees. They take you there by motorboat, and they charge up to four thousand rupees for that—though they're quoted more, I don't see any particular attraction. Just a tour of the lake is enough.
The tour was supposed to be six days, and three days had passed. Sameer Bhai had arranged a car for the remaining three days at three thousand rupees per day. Although the name itself is Per Day, one destination per day was enough for us. The plan was to spend one day in Sonamarg, one day in Gulmarg, and one day exploring the local area. We discovered that Sonamarg had so many travel restrictions that there was no point in going there. Consequently, we decided it was best to visit Dooth Pathri instead of Sonamarg—located in the Budgam district and about forty-five kilometers from Srinagar.
Here, too, public transport means you have to wait for a taxi at three or four places, and you'll either have to endure the hassle of hanging around, or hire your own vehicle. One thing you'll find annoying is that vehicles can go all the way to the main points of these places, but there are main gates built a kilometer and a half or two before each stop, so you either have to walk that long, or get off and become fodder for a horse or ATV (a kind of bike), and that too for one person. There's no guarantee the horse owner will charge you twice as much. This means that even if you can manage a minimum of five hundred rupees for a horse, a family of four has to spend two thousand rupees to reach the river from the Doodh Pathri gate… just for a kilometer and a half.
Think of Kashmir as a boat-shaped valley surrounded by mountains, with Srinagar situated roughly in the middle. Turn in any direction, and every forty to sixty kilometers, you'll find the same mountains, populated either by small populations or by developed tourist spots. In the name of destinations, you have to repeatedly change directions to reach these same points. So, while such places may seem attractive as single points, once you've seen them all, you'll find it difficult to distinguish between them. They're all more or less the same.
One thing to keep in mind here is that your driver will try to be sweet and sympathetic, but they're all of them—they support each other in every situation. The driver won't tell you anything in advance and then hand you over to a mob ready to pick your pockets. People everywhere have formed unions to keep everyone out of the way. So, that's what happened to us—if he'd told us in advance, we would have gotten off and continued on foot, deciding what to do and how to do it ourselves. But the driver put us directly in the company of the horsemen, who became so powerful that we couldn't get rid of them. Remember, you can't argue with anyone here.
Everywhere they market themselves by listing the points, saying, "We'll show you six, twelve points—but all this may mean something to a die-hard film buff, but it means nothing to us. What do we need to know where which film was shot, who was sitting where? Just like in Sonamarg, only Thajiwas or Point Zero can be the main ones, similarly, Doodh Pathri, meaning the Shaliganga River, which flows down from the mountains and crashes against the rocks—you just have to go there, which is probably around a kilometer and a half, and for that they charge 2500 per person.
They'll market themselves in the name of points. If possible, ignore them and get out of the car before the gate and proceed on foot. If anyone gets too arrogant, tell them that we've seen everything before—we just came here to sit and have a picnic. Later, if you find a horseman outside the union's jurisdiction, you can spend up to five hundred rupees to hire a horse. Anything less is difficult. The driver handed us over to the union members, so we spent two thousand rupees for the same distance, or a two-hour ride.
The rest of the route to Doodh Pathri is quite terrible, traversing a narrow, broken road through villages, and tolls must be paid at five points from Srinagar to Doodh Pathri. It's also infuriating to see them collecting money every four kilometers, yet providing no amenities. Throughout Kashmir, you'll find it irritating that, considering the exorbitant collections (most of which go to the government), they don't even provide 25% of the proper amenities.
So, on horseback, we reached the river, witnessing the same nonsense in the name of points—Doodh Pathri is just that small section of the river, with a good background, so you can take a photo and be assured of the recovery. Meanwhile, the horseman can be a constant nuisance to you. We enjoyed for half an hour or so and then returned. We encountered traffic jams on the way back, but we reached the hotel by three o'clock. Leaving aside other expenses, the trip there cost us five thousand rupees.
On the third day in Srinagar, we visited Gulmarg—for those unaware, the raw beauty Gulmarg once held is now gone. The main area has been cordoned off for a golf course, and the must-see attractions are hidden behind, making it impossible to access on foot. The main attraction here is the gondola, a gate built a kilometer and a half before its station, in the style of Doodh Pathri, preventing vehicles from entering. You can either go on foot or by ATV—which will charge three to five thousand rupees for a tour of the valley, or pay five hundred to thousand rupees to reach the gondola station. If you have the strength to walk, you can also go on foot.
There's also a crowd of ATV and horse riders at the entry point, who will surround you as soon as you arrive. These are local Gujjars, whom you should consider wild. They can even attack you, and if you're sitting in your vehicle with the windows open, they can snatch your chain or purse. Even here, you can't afford to fight with them under any circumstances. The vehicle can go to the gondola station on an excuse (for example, you have a gondola ticket but can't walk because you have a leg problem), but the driver tells you it's not safe. If you pay him four hundred rupees extra, he can drop you at the gate and pick you up from there.
Imagine this, the driver, who's booked for three thousand rupees per day and whom we release after a point in the middle of the day, is saying this. Now, if he were alone, he could have walked not just a kilometer or a half, but four or five kilometers, but because of his wife, he paid four hundred extra to drop him at the gate and pick him up. There was a long line for the gondola, which took an hour to cross. The gondola runs in two phases—first it takes you to the high mountain in front, then to the peak beyond that, because that's where the snow is visible in June. The first phase costs maybe eight hundred rupees, and the second even more, but tickets have to be purchased a month in advance. You can get a ticket for the first phase, but not quickly for the second because the passenger capacity there is limited. Then, once you complete the first phase, you have to stand in another long line for the second.
So when you take this gondola ride, the thought comes to mind: the government earns millions of rupees every day from this, but what do they offer in return, besides this one ride—nothing. There's no place to sit, no police or military for security, and only a handful of employees at all three stations… If someone breaks the line, misbehaves, a fight breaks out, or an accident occurs—you have to manage every situation yourself. Every two minutes, wandering around, someone will come to you, selling something—there's no control over them.
As for the gondola ride, some might find it awesome, but to me it felt like climbing up a building in a glass elevator. While there might have been a chasm in the middle, it might have been scary but also a bit thrilling. This was a comfortable climb straight down a slope, with no risk at all. Okay, others' experiences may differ, but I didn't particularly enjoy it. At least considering the cost. The other places are nice, the greenery in June and the snow in winter create a different kind of thrill. I think a gondola ride in Gulmarg is more fun in winter, but then there's no point in taking a gondola ride in Phase 2—you'll find snow all the way down to Tangmarg.
However, if we had come during the winter season, our taxi would have stopped at Tangmarg itself, then we would have had to go up by local taxi, and from the gate to the gondola station gate by horse or ATV… meaning we would have spent money at three places to get there. Because of the convenience fee paid to the driver, we spent at two places. There's also a point at Tangmarg below where the driver will take you directly and hand you over to the horse and ATV driver. If you want to see something special (like the ones you'll see up there), then spend five hundred or thousand rupees per person separately. I didn't feel like it, so I refused to be the scapegoat.
We left at 8:30 in the morning and returned to the hotel by 2:30. The gondola ride alone cost us five thousand rupees… If you include the Tangmarg stop, and want to explore the valley above, add another thirty-five hundred to six thousand rupees per person. Thus, our third day in Srinagar ended. We stayed at the hotel for the rest of the day, going out only for food and drinks.
Here, understand two things again regarding food and movement: the food will be tasteless in most places. If they don't offer roti, you'll find rice in most places. There are some good vegetarian and non-vegetarian hotels in Khayyam Chowk or Lal Chowk, where you can get good food, including roti. For transportation (in Srinagar), in addition to taxis (basically Tavera-type vehicles), you'll find small buses, autos, and e-rickshaws. Except for buses (which are also few in number and operate on limited routes), the behavior of locals is different for outsiders. They'll charge you fifty or even hundred rupees for a drop-off, and even if they offer you a ride in a shared car, it's still ten or twenty rupees for locals. Even if you avoid being identified as a tourist and manage to get somewhere for ten or twenty rupees, you'll be in trouble on the way back. Then, they'll have their way—not yours.
Another thing from Srinagar came to mind... When I was here thirty years ago, Hindus were nowhere to be seen, and even now, people assume the Valley is inhabited solely by Muslims, but that's not true. From Pahalgam to Srinagar, I see plenty of Hindus—they own shops, hotels, and work as laborers in other businesses. There are a few hotels in Khayyam Chowk, where I'm staying, and I'm eating at both. The food in Pahalgam was terrible, but in Srinagar, it's fine. You can get bread, and the food is tasty.
In the evening, we went to visit Lal Chowk—it's a major attraction, so we can get a ride, though they charge a hundred or a hundred and fifty rupees for even two or two and a half kilometers. In comparison, in Lucknow, booking an auto from Ola or Uber can cover five or seven kilometers for a hundred rupees, but it's not that much of a hassle. Lal Chowk is a nice place; it reminded me of Hazrat Ganj in Lucknow, but I found it better than Hazrat Ganj because it offers proper standing, walking, and sitting arrangements for visitors, which Hazrat Ganj lacks.
The next day, we'd planned to visit the Mughal Gardens and return via Hazrat Bal. The same tradition applies to the garden here, Chashme Sahi, where we'd stop our car a kilometer or two before the stop. Then, for the short journey, take their traveler and take it to Chashme Sahi. From there, we can continue on to Pari Mahal. Right in front of the car park is the Botanical Garden—you can see that too, or just that. Otherwise, of these four places, Nishat Bagh is the only one that's truly substantial. Pari Mahal and Chashme Sahi are small places, while Shalimar is lamenting its ruin.
I had been imbued with images of Shalimar, seen in books as a child. I longed to see it as a garden with fountains and poplar trees all around—but it looked exactly as it had thirty years ago, in a state of utter ruin. A little greenery had been managed by employing gardeners, but it was only a shadow of itself. If you're in Srinagar, you should definitely see it once, but it won't be a joy to see.
If you have come to Hazrat Bal with the hope of seeing the Prophet's hair, then let me tell you that it is not opened regularly, but is opened for darshan on some special occasions. Otherwise, you can roam around there, if you want to see women praying in the mosque or if you want to pray yourself, you can do that. There are many shops, hotels etc. on the road outside, so you can eat, drink and do shopping as well. For the sake of getting a different taste, you can taste Kashmiri food (specially Wazwan items), but people from UP-Punjab will hardly like it. It felt like a punishment to me.
So, the six-day Kashmir tour ended, and we set off the next morning, which was a bit difficult due to the Amarnath Yatra. However, if you're planning to travel, keep a few things in mind: if possible, use a tour operator; they handle all the arrangements themselves, minimizing hassles. Don't bother with local travel agents; collect numbers from those who have already traveled; your expenses will be reduced by up to 40 percent. Don't consider your Kashmiri driver a friend or sympathizer (some may be exceptionally good); they're all part of a network. Discuss the destination with him in advance, and if possible, break up before your destination and get there on your own, then speak to the horsemen, ATV drivers, or guides, whoever you need to.
If you can walk two-three kilometers or can trek, then rely on your feet. If you depend on horse-carriage everywhere, you will lose a lot of money. Otherwise, for the sole purpose of earning money, your car is not allowed to reach the main destination. Here, points are made everywhere for marketing, which actually have no special meaning. You talk about the main point and fix the money for it – that is enough. If you are from the northern plains and eat roti, then in most of the places you will find the food tasteless – only a few places will satisfy your tongue. Otherwise, if you have a taste for different tastes, then it is a different matter.
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