Not the pleasantest of nights. It was bitterly cold for one thing, + only one of the sleeping bags we had been lent was up to much. I had the poor one, tho’ I really shouldn’t look the gift horse… But I put on nearly all of my clothes, so managed to get warm enough. But in addition my bed, just a temporary camp bed, had one or 2 of its straps missing, so had an uncomfortable dip. But I managed, of course.
We had been assured last night that tea would be brought to our room at 8 o’clock this morning, but we had a long wait before it finally appeared, even with several promptings. It was alright when the manager finally got himself out of bed + got his workers organised. Without him, the place was useless. When our breakfast had finally been served + eaten, we could go out.
Our first visit was to the Indian Airlines office – we have decided that, despite our increasingly dire financial situation, we should fly back down to Srinagar. There are several reasons for this – the flight is apparently spectacular, it would mean not having to retrace a journey already made (something we hate), + it would save us nearly 2 days, when our time is already running out. To be entirely honest, we both have the feeling that the faster it runs out, the better, since we long to be home, but that is our emotional response; intellectually, we realise that we should pack as much activity as possible into our remaining time. The airline office was shut until the afternoon, however, so after a quick visit to the not wonderfully helpful tourist information centre, we decided to go for a walk for the rest of the morning.
We set out towards one of the nearer gompas, or Buddhist monasteries + temples, only about 3 kms out of town. It was a pleasant walk, not too hot, + certainly nothing like as dusty as we’d been led to believe. Altho’ the area around was hardly lush green pasture, it was still beautiful. The leaves on the trees turned to golden yellow, the farmhouses dotted picturesquely across the landscape, the mountains ringing us all around, the range to the south snow-topped. We arrived eventually at a small village with, so far as we were able to understand, the gompa just in front of it. Everyone we met there was friendly, + most called out to us cheerfully. It made one feel very good to be alive, and that’s been a pretty rare feeling lately, in the past month or 2.
We returned to town by a different route. The ruins of the old royal palace which overlooks the town are set flush up against a mountain, + on our walk we had now made a complete encirclement of that mountain, keeping it on our right all the way round. We took a lot of photographs during the morning – the sky is so blue, + everything is so sharp + clear that one is tempted to keep firing away. In the conditio0ns, I’m sure we would get good results with an Instamatic, or a Polaroid, or a Box Brownie – everything is just perfect. And the subject-matter too is good.
We had coffee + cake in a small café for lunch, spent an hour or so on the roof of our guest-house, sizzling in the sunshine, + then headed back to the airline office at 2. I’d hoped to be done in a quarter of an hour or so, but of course it took most of the afternoon. The place was already pretty full when we arrived, but even so the number of staff they had there should have been able to cope quite easily. We had wanted to fly out on Monday 22nd, but discovered there were only 3 flights a week back to Srinagar, so it would have to be Sun or next Wed. With our time so short, it had to be Sunday or nothing. That meant only 2 full days in Ladakh, but still enough, we thought, to get a brief flavour of the place. Getting the ticket was not so easy, however. I asked at the ticket sales desk whether there would be 2 seats on Sunday’s flight, + they told me to ask at the reservations desk. So I asked the same question there, + they told me I should buy a ticket first, + then they would tell me. This was ridiculous – these were 2 ordinary office desks, placed side by side. I said it had to be Sunday or nothing (which was true, but I backed it up with some fictitious tale about having to make a connection.) So I was told I would have to wait to see the Station Manager. Eventually, I was granted an audience – he listened to my story, + told me to buy the tickets. We’d been approved, but even so it took quite a while before we could actually leave with the tickets.
We spent the remainder of the afternoon wandering around the main part of the town + taking photographs, mainly of the wonderfully picturesque people. Both men + women still largely wear their traditional costume – shoes with pointed-up toes, massively heavy black overcoats with a brightly-coloured scarf as a belt, heavy, chunky, silver jewellery, + most notable, a wonderful hat, like a top hat with a wedge chopped out of the front. These weren’t people dressed up in order to attract tourists, yet on the other hand they were neither camera-shy not grasping about it. I repeat – even Micky Mouse could shoot wonderful photos with such wonderful subject-matter. Having said that, I can only pray that our own photos have worked well. With the cost of developing in India, we have decided to take all the rest of our films home.
Ate a fine meal at a local restaurant, + returned for our usual evening’s entertainment with Auntie BBC. I was much more comfortable than last night, since Val procured for me a heavy quilt from the manager. I am finding myself more + more incapable of fending for myself, while Val takes over all negotiations, confrontations, + encounters. To my immense relief.
Which does not say too much for my mental health at this point, and I do think I was struggling at times. But, as I say, it had been a good day, and feeling good to be alive was a most welcome sensation.
