Kargil

The internet is much cheaper here than in Leh, not that 75 cents an hour is really such a big savings- it's all relative when you travel. I reached here by bus, and was not sorry to miss many of those 230 kilometers of mostly monotonous sand and rock. OK, there were a few green villages we passed through, reminiscent of Morocco with mud brick structures and leafy willows, apricots dropping everywhere. And there was Lamayuru Monastery- famous and mysterious in its moonscape setting. But there were also dozens of tour buses and jeeps winding there way up and down the switchbacked road. I was happy sitting by the window in the back row of the bus. I repeatedly had to remove the elbow of the young man sitting next to me from my upper arm, and occassionally had to pull the curtain down to block the searing sun, but it was a pleasant enough ride with an excellent driver and I was able to recover from the 3:50 am wake up alarm.

Riding the 2 km in the dark to reach the bus reminded me of leaving Gilgit for the bus back to Tashkurgan. Only here, the packs of dogs in the road would only lift an eyelid or possibly roust themselves to vacate the roadway as they heard my cycle rolling near. On the final approach up the hill to where the bus was parked however, out of the darkness came the dreaded , vicious, barking of multiple dogs. I used my "scary voice" and growled and barked and roared back at them, swaying my head side to side to scan for their numbers. Eye pairs of phosphorescent blue eyes gleamed back at me. Then people came from the bus yard to see who was screaming. Only me. Only dogs. Harmless, gentle, more-scared-than-me, Indian dogs.

I'm glad to be here in Kargil. I'd heard and read that it was an awful place, just a place to change buses and be goen from. But that was from people who've never been to Gilgit or Chitral in Pakistan. In fact, I am not many kilometers from the LOC (Line of Control) as this part of the Pakistan-Indian border is known. And quite close to those city-towns I've been in before. It is familiar and better in many way, here. For one thing, there ARE women on the street. The Hindi and Buddhist influences temper the Muslim social norms. It feels pretty relaxed.

And so am I. In the morning I plan to set out for my last 5 days of cycling, heading on the Kargil-Padum road through the heart of Zanskar. The main pass is only 4450 meters, so while the road is "rough" (unpaved,) I don't expect it to be too difficult. I will pass by Nun and Kun- two peaks over 7000 meters. There is also a region of women nomads up near the pass, and I hope to be able to pass one night with them.

The stories to tell about my first solo trip to Pangong Lake at the Tibetan border- well, those stories have been started and I hope to post them here before too long. But before long I need to get to sleep to start this final phase in Ladakh.