Kashmir with a Cup of Kahwa

Off beat places are dead. Long live offbeat. There is no place where someone has not already travelled to, written about and in this Insta driven world, posted pics of and gushed about. But what can still be exceptional are the experiences to be had amidst the crowd. Remember, kahwa is not everyone’s cup of tea!

Throwing shade on Eden

On a recent trip to Kashmir Valley, the clichés were clinching. It is the proverbial garden of Eden complete with its own orchards (literally), not just a tree, of enticing apples! A land blessedly bountiful…from snow fed waters, to magnificent mountains, fruiting trees growing wild, handsome houses and their beautiful inhabitants. But the valley was drowning under a deluge of humanity (I was a drop too) trying to beat the heat and the only things melting faster than the people, was the snow on the mountains. So how does one immerse oneself in paradise when it is overrun by people?  You have to own your own experience, to make memorable moments. Do a ‘In Kashmir do what the Kashmiris do’… and then some!

Because a shikara is more than a boat.

Go the Distance in Gulmarg

I did not want to go to Gulmarg. Been there, done something (it was decades back, so not like I remember any of it.) But mostly because everyone has the same idea. Sure, the rivers of amethyst-shaded lupins in full bloom, running down the folds of the gently undulating meadows with the picture-perfect little St Mary’s church on a mound in the centre, are a visual delight. Not to mention the wild carpet of daisies that grow under the towering conifers everywhere.

Dream a Lupin coloured stream.

Read about other churches in- 3 Churches in Mhow: Discovering Obscure History and Outstanding Carols 

But leave the hordes and drive beyond Gulmarg on the Bota Pathri Road and in between the thickly forested patches, shading shallow streams running around moss covered rocks, are the settlements of the Bakarwals. The flat roofed ‘kothas’ are gaily painted in stripes of bright colours and look as cheerful as their inhabitants.

Colourful Personalities

These are the summer homes of this dying breed of nomads, who migrate to lower pastures lock, stock and barrel when these regions get buried under snow. As soon as we halt, we are surrounded by a group of chatty teenage boys while couple of younger girls hang back, more reticent. The boys are now enrolled in school somewhere. A woman snoozes on a bench and an old man watches us curiously from afar. Someone has opened a chai shop at his place and put up a fence. Soon the roots will grow more permanent and this nomadic lifestyle will be a lost story.

Happiness has a face.

Walk through this life in- Tarsar Marsar : Memoirs of an Escapade

 

Ditch Dal Lake, Waltz ahead to Wular or to Manasbal Lake

The saving grace of the shikara ride at Dal Lake were the shikarawalas. Witty and charming, they kept us entertained but took us only that far into Dal whose waters seem to extend across most the valley floor. But what we traversed was just a tiny inlet lined with houseboats and swarming with shikaras. I tried dipping my fingers in the cool waters and was hesitatingly told it was best avoided. (No sewage filtration!)

A Vintage Village

Discover a lake like no other in- Pangong Tso – The Gems in the Crown

For a more peaceful experience head to Manasbal lake, cradled by bare mountains, with it’s lotus lined waterfront and get a glimpse of vintage village life from a boat. Here narrow alleys lead from the waterfront to houses huddled around mosques with multi-tiered roofs. In the park adjoining the lake, families spend an evening out in the lawns, eating giant baturas from the stalls lining the road outside. An ancient temple lies submerged in a lined pond close to the lake with only the top of its shikhar above the water. Head further to Wular lake, more expansive than the Dal and a Ramsar site. Watch, from the Vantage garden, geese line themselves up perfectly in a row in the water or see shikaras laden with mounds of lotus stems for that yummy nadru being rowed back from the waters fed by the Jhelum river.

Workplace

Read also- Loktak, Keibul Lamjao and Ima Market- The 3 Must Dos in Manipur

 

The Best Kept Secret are the Bakeries

Heaven must smell like a bakery! One of my most abiding memory from an earlier trip to Srinagar was the smell emanating from a line of bakeries. Warm, rich and utterly enticing…The coconut macaroons (haha yes!) were the best I’ve ever eaten! Coconutty crisp sweetness!! The countryside in Kashmir might be luminescent with fields of paddy but on the plate, there are local breads and savouries of all sorts from the local bakeries or Kandurs as they are locally called.

That is the way to have tea!

From a crumbly sheermal, with that sweetened chai to a soft doughy katlam that would go down well with coffee (in my mind), ditch the packaged produce and walk into a local bakery and ask the baker what he’d recommend. You’ll probably be offered some to try out, if you butter him up well!

Savour- Satiating Nostalgia Under the Winter Rain at Junia

 

Place for a Picnic

In Kashmir, you don’t need to look for a place to picnic. A picture perfect patch lies at every curve and corner. Be it on a slope beneath dark deodars, in an orchard of ripening apples (better ask for permission here), under a shady walnut tree growing wild or beside a river running riot or high up on a grassy wind kissed mountain pass, take a mat or like the Kashmiris do-a carpet (they have enough to spare!) We crossed families doing a cookout or with a giant samovar for rounds of tea, enjoying their day in the sun. Outdoor is the place to be in the Valley but remember to leave no plastic behind.

Pray for paradise answered

 

Read- A Tale of Two Veiled Valleys: Part I- Shangarh’s Meadows are meant for Musing

Kashmir is a place to commune with nature. It is a sensory feast, a visual wazwan… and That is the exceptional experience to be had in whichever manner in the Valley. Even in the midst of the maddening crowd there are spaces for silence and solitude to be savoured with that cup of Kahwa. Discover yours!

Discovering Dibang Valley, the Last Frontier

Loud woops suddenly rend the air as we climb towards Mayodia pass. As I jump from the vehicle with the camera the driver, as excited as me, says ‘van manush’, literally tree man or ape. A Hoolock gibbon! Through the thick greenery I spy a black shape swing adeptly on the vines draped across the trees. The call is returned from above the road. In the end though, all I get is a blurry shot of a black face and the unmistakable white brows! (soon enough there was an opportunity to be within touching distance of one…another story for another time) We are off to a good start into the folds of Arunachal again.

Read-Along the Lohit on the Long Road to Walong

The last frontier.

Gateway to Heaven

Anini, deep inside the Dibang Valley, home to the Idu Mishmis, has been on the itinerary for months but the year and the season are coming to a close when we cross the Dhola Sadiya bridge over bleached sandbanks of a drying Lohit. Past mustard fields a mellow yellow green and silver tinged bullrushes.

Dream in mustard yellow.

In Roing, the Christmas stars are off the shop shelves and on the neat houses lining the road. We climb an invisible road to Mayodia pass, the go-to-place in winter for snow for the Assamese around. It is well camouflaged by the thick foliage as it snakes up the mountain. On one hand of the pass the Lohit, Dibang and Siang merge in the hazy horizon to form the mighty Brahmaputra and on the other extend snow capped ranges and deep valleys like crumpled paper till Andra La on the northern border with Tibet and somewhere in Upper Dibang lies the lost Pemako, the ‘promised land’ of the Tibetans. Into this remote fecund land we descend after a perfunctory stop to take in the clouds flowing down like water over densely forested ranges.

The making of the mighty Brahmaputra.

The village of Hunli is visible at the bottom on a shoulder seemingly in a face-off with drawing book mountain rising from the depths with its arms outstretched, every inch covered in thick forest. At Hunli we nearly take off towards Hayuliang on a shiny new road since there is almost no signage pointing towards Anini. It is a long drive into the crumpled ranges along the Dibang. By the time we reach Anini, Orion the Hunter is rising and has one boot on a peak and his belt looks like a three star tower. So close to the clear heavens!

Tall Mountains and Towering Falls

Anini sits on a plateau at the confluence of two rivers draining two valleys. Dri, the picturesque Angrim valley and Mathun, a narrower namesake. It is a small town and a district headquarter. After a night in near freezing temperature, it is an early start into the Angrim Valley under a slightly dour sky. A sparkling Dri keeps company, mostly skipping and rushing over boulders, at places resting calmly in crystal-clear emerald pools cradling sunken logs and fish.

Another river tale is- Barot And the Serendipitous Catch in the Uhl River

If emerald were a river….

The valley rises gently and after Acheso village it widens into a rolling meadow of copper ferns. One can only imagine the greenscape it would be post monsoon. Soon we are deep inside the Dibang Wildlife sanctuary. Waterfalls dot the mountains as the valley narrows and we reach the Insta famous Chigu resort on a massive sandbar. A healthy respect for rivers in the mountains and the need to keep them at a distance is so ingrained that being on a river bed is a little disconcerting. After the customary photographs (it is quite a picture with the wooden and red roofed alpine huts on wooden platforms with the towering Chigu Falls and snow peaks as backdrop) we head for the Mawu Aando Falls.

Sculpted by Nature

The short walk to it is a teaser of what hiking in these parts would be like. Walking on fallen mossy logs, climbing root steps takes us to a waterfall where the mountain looks like it has been chiselled precisely and at perfect angles by a machine. A thoughtfully made wooden platform and a low bench faces the water flying of the rockface. A place to meditate! Back on the road the drive ends abruptly a little beyond Brueni. There is only a wild forest of towering pines and boulders but soon it will give way to man and his machines.

On the road to ruin.

Dream Ride along the Dre

Our plan is to cycle back from Brueni to the Dree-Afra campsite. I test out the brakes (the only things that matter!) before we roll down. Off we go in the bracing cold which makes my eyes water. It is an exhilarating dream run on an excellent yet nearly deserted road. Down a narrow valley enclosed by snow-capped, thickly forested steep ranges.

Ride through- Cycling in Dehradun – The Best Routes for Leisure Rides

Dibang Dreamscape

The thirty five odd kilometers end much too soon. I try to take in the fleeting scenery but one needs to keep an eye (watering and wandering!) on the road. A Mithun moves ruminatingly on a golden slope as we turn for the resort with it’s white beach for a late lunch. Still waters mirror the mountains and clouds. Redstarts quiver around on the boulders. With the light fading the cold returns with vengeance.

White sand and serene water.

Holy Night

Back in Anini, from the heights above it, in the descending dusk, we watch a falcon hunt it’s supper before a silver full moon rising above the pink snow peaks leaves us starstruck. Being Christmas eve, we are treated to carol singing by a group of locals who with their innate musical talent and joyful fervour have us singing along soon enough albeit with a limited repertoire. Silent Night is the only suggestion I can give when asked! But what we lack in substance we make up in enthusiasm.

For more carol stories read- 3 Churches in Mhow: Discovering Obscure History and Outstanding Carols 

Moon by the mountains

 

Women of the Valley

Next day while heading to Matu Fall we cross a small village of barely a dozen houses. Orange trees laden with the tiny, deliciously sweet and juicy fruit and drying vines of Kiwi plantations dot the area. The houses are a colourful lot on low stilts. We walk past a kitchen garden which looks like a miniature edible jungle, wild and organic. The path ends at a house with an open gate.

Picture Perfect Porch

A woman is chopping a banana trunk. Breakfast for the pigs we are told by the grandson of the owners. The lady of the house is supervising and given the language barrier the grandson who studies in Anini and speaks fluent hindi translates. Her weathered smiling face begs to be photographed but she isn’t dressed up, translates the grandson. (haha..I understand!)Mithun horns line the ledge of a small traditional structure outside another house. Ahead in a steep field an old lady painstakingly clears the shrubbery. A smile is a language that needs no interpretation.

Also read- At the Darwaza of a Road Less Travelled

A Lady on her Land.

At Matu Falls a mini dam and a resort is being constructed and beyond, a new road is being cleaved from the mountain. It is a graveyard of massive massacred trees, hacked and strewn. Somewhere up in the higher reaches is the famous Seven Lake trek of Arunachal. Glacial beauties right now only accessible to the few tough and brave enough to venture into this last frontier. Somewhere I hope it stays a ‘Pemako’, famed but lost to man.

Falling water and a climbing road.

Fact File-

Getting There-Dibrugarh(376 km) is the nearest airhead. Tinsukia(326km) the nearest railhead. Then a taxi.

Staying– Dree Afra Campsite offers tents. There are a few simple homestays and hotels in Anini. The Chigu Camp is not operational.

Best Season- October to April.