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| My buddy: with Sabrina in the Himalayas |
I wrote this on the plane, two hours away from landing in London — and am posting it two days after getting home, sitting in bed with a cup of tea and my cat curled up beside me. Ahhh — civilisation!
…It’s been a fairly emotional two weeks — not least last night’s goodbyes to Rahul, Sabrina and her family. I will be back to India, but it won’t be quite the same. The past six weeks with the beautiful, funny, charming and loyal Sabrina have been a joy. That rainy day in Cairns was the start of, I hope, a long and special friendship. Not that Sab thought so at the time: I arrived to start my diving course having taken the overnight bus from Airlee Beach. I was well into a two-day hangover and, having slept about four hours in two nights, I was apparently a little grumpy. Moi??
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| Outside our hotel in the ski resort Gulmarg |
Anyway. I wrote my last blog from Gulmarg, a ski resort in Kashmir, in the Himalayas. It was the end of the ski season, so unfortunately snow conditions were not the best but the place has only one lift (a gondola) and no pistes, so I imagine that in mid-winter it is awesome. I hope to go back to experience it one day.
But to backtrack slightly, we flew to Srinigar, the capital of Kashmir after some careful homework by Rahul. Once described by Bill Clinton as “one of the most dangerous places in the world”, Kashmir is a very unsettled region. Some Kashmiris (and Pakistanis) want it to be part of Pakistan, some Kashmiris (and Indians) want it to remain part of India and others want the state to be an independent country.
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| It wasn't a good idea to take pictures of men with guns, but this is the sign outside the lounge in Highlands Park Hotel |
Armed men, military police and the army are fairly regular sights in India, but landing at Srinigar was something else. We were met at the airport by a car had hoped to see some of the city, which is set on a beautiful lake, but our escort bundled us into a car saying “you are going straight up to Gulmarg”. We passed heavily armed soldiers and military police lining the road — literally every 10 paces — all the way through Srinigar and on the road up to the mountain. The tension was palpable. We were given no explanation until we returned three days later — Srinigar was on a curfew as terrorists had attached a bomb to the bicycle of a holy man, blowing him up and two other bystanders in the process, the day before we arrived. Neither my mobile, nor Sabrina’s, worked all weekend — it is not a nice feeling being somewhere like that with no means of communication. But oddly there was occasional wifi in the mountain hotel.
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| On the road from Srinigar to Gulmarg |
Moving on, we arrived in beautiful, crisp sunshine in Gulmarg (2,000m) on Saturday afternoon, checked into the hotel and went to hire some kit. The boots, skis, ski pants and gloves were all surprisingly modern — I had been expecting equipment from about the 1970s.
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| Hiring skis and boots |
Sunday dawned mistily and turned out to be the only day we could actually ski. It’s a strange thing getting out of a gondola to smell curry cooking for lunch in the restaurant. Stranger, too, almost being part of a punch-up gettin on the gondola — Indians are quite pushy and not very good at queuing. Everyone wanted to get up the mountain for lunch (not skiing). It was almost funny until the police arrived.
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| What Indians do in Gulmarg: sit and be pulled around on a sledge |
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| Sometimes, they don't even get off the sledge when there is no snow! |
After heavy overnight rain, heavy fog closed the lifts on our second day. Such a shame, but it meant we could enjoy a relaxing day in the mountains — and our rooms which had little wood burners for heating, and the electric blankets I mentioned last time. We flew back on Tuesday in time for my friend Mignonne to arrive in Delhi, and the two of us flew on to hot, humid and tropical Varkala in Kerala in the very south for a week of yoga and beach.
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| Mignonne arrives...and I get a ride in an Ambassador taxi, finally! |
Now, I’m a big fan of pilates and have enjoyed yoga before but I’m not sure I got properly into it this time. During our first session I glanced sideways at the girl next to me to discover, with horror, that she had hairy armpits — plus we were told to try to breath like camels, lions and dogs which, let's face it, is NOT a good look. By the end of the week Mignonne managed to stand on her head. I did, for about 10 seconds, but hurt my neck in the process — which gave me an excuse to leave and sit watching the ocean while drinking a smoothie. I’m going to miss watching the ocean.
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| Mignonne managed to stand on her head...on her own |
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| So did I.....for about ten seconds |
The rest of the time was spent working on our tans, chatting, drinking fruit juices and mojitos, eating glorious seafood (with our new friend Heidi, from Austria) while I tried to settle into the idea of getting back to London. My thoughts were mainly preoccupied by what food I wanted to eat when I got home. Though I love curry, it got a bit much after two and a half months, and I was craving a crème egg.
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| With Heidi on the backwaters of Kerala |
These past five months have been quite a journey (those who have read the article in last Monday’s Daily Mail will understand more — though for the record I never wrote that I drank heavily!!) but I’m ready for the next chapter. I have learnt so much about the world, about myself and about others. I have spent time with friends old and new, and seen the sun rise and set in some of the most magical places on earth. Now I can’t wait to start my new life. It’s slightly daunting starting from scratch, but I have faith that it will work out. Things always do.
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| The fishermen at Varkala |
All that remains for me to say is thank you. To Jon and Anna, Oli and Libby, Pat and Linda, the Manly Too boys Steve, Neil, Dave and Ash, Sam and Brendan, Federico, Judith, Jimminy Cricket and Vicky, Rebekah, Caz and Ivan, Rebecca, Jess and Callum, Mignonne, Rahul and my dear Sabrina.
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| Mignonne and Sabrina at Sarogini Nagar Market on our last night in Delhi |
The biggest thanks must go to my mum and dad. For your unending love and support — I know I’ve worried you — and for looking after the fluffy black and white things I landed you with in early December.
Just finally, I’d like to dedicate this to Porky, forever in my thoughts.
