Kasmir at last

As soon as the plane lands you look out the window the first thing you see is a stern looking heavily armed soldier,then another, by the time your car leaves the airport you have seen hundreds by the time you leave Srinagar heading for your guesthouse in a nearby village you have seen thousands of armed troops.

Yet by the end of my first day here I am enraptured with this place,from my bedroom window I look directly at the foothills of the Himalaya,from here I can stroll through the village and the fields where the last of the hay making is happening,in preparation for winter, which is just around the corner now.

The local people are not harassing you or begging from you,they are amazed to see a white man walking down their road,they stare in curiosity and they smile shyly and say hello or "Salem Allah khoum".The village has a Maple tree growing at a fork in the road it is reputed to be 600 years old and it is a sort of roundabout and a hang out spot for folks to stop and have yarn.Later I visit the Mughal Gardens, a local attraction,where a stream from the mountains tumbles down through 7 terraces all planned and built with precision by the ancient Mughal,Akbar the great I think.Then the sun sets over Dal lake turning it blood red and a wrecked Mughal bridge is silhouetted in the dying light,wrecked only a few years ago,blown up by a vicious vengeful army over reacting to terrorism.Making things worse by  indiscriminately  targeting local people.

Kashmir, before too long I will put in my earbuds and crank up the 13 minute Led Zeppelin masterpiece of the same name,do yourself a favour folks give it a listen.

Late afternoon ,Kasmir

The oldest tree in Kashmir

Grade detail

Mountain stream,tamed

The old bridge

The garden meets the lake meets the sun

And night falls over Kashmir