Every journey has its beginning and end. After spending useless day in Indian Airlines and Jet Airways offices on Fort Rd in Leh I realized it was not possible to secure return airticket and was feeling trapped. It was not tourists who booked all tickets (though I have met few Western groups in monasteries) it was Indian soldiers and members of their families. The road back to Manali was closed but the way to Srinagar was still open and I booked jeep in Dreamland Trek & Tours.
Its courteous owner looked like Kashmiri, he promised to solve my problem for 7,000 rupees (2,000 to be paid in Srinagar). Next morning Landcruiser was waiting for me on the street. His driver, Tibetan looking Ladakhi, had Muslim name Haneef. He enlightened me about Dreamland owner claiming he was pure Buddhist Ladakhi. It could be strange but Leh was centre of trading and cultural links of Inner Asian lands since time immemorial.
The first stop after 15 km was made by Haneef himself. He stopped jeep in deserted place, the road was gently climbing slope. There was nothing interesting around, just sand and wind, distant mountains, it was beginning to dawn, the sun has not risen yet but desert was colored in light blue. Puzzled Haneef jumped off the car, made several steps as though he was not sure it was right place. I felt anxious and asked him "something wrong with the vehicle?". He returned to his seat and hit the helm in disappointment - to my astonishment our jeep started to creep up the slope. Haneef's English was not perfect and he could not explain me about magnet anomaly in this place, a curious joke of Nature. Having ascended around 10 metres we moved further.
After breakfast in Nimmu we reached Basgo, another ancient capital of Ladakh. It is located in narrow place where Indus flows through the gorge amidst strangely shaped crags. Cliffs might be decoration for surroundings of the Dark Tower of Mordor I thought. The tower is in ruins, but there are two gompas with impregnable walls. Basgo was a seat of junior branch of Nima Gon dynasty which eventually in the end of XVI century unified whole country defeating Shey rulers and adopting Namgyal (Victorious) surname. In XIX century Namgyals retreated to Basgo pursued by overwhelming Tibetan force and withstood in castle three years siege.

Clockwise - confluence of Zanskar and Indus rivers, ruins of Basgo, road accident.

On the road from Basgo to Likir traffic was halted by accident - Kargil's minivan with passengers and Kashmiri truck collided on the sharp curve. The fight broke out between drivers - shia Kargili man and Kashmiris in traditional coats fereins. Thankfully passengers calmed things down and we went further.
Likir is the one place where I would like to live. Its ancient Gelukpa gompa is perched at the end of side-valley along the stream flowing into Indus. The panoramic views over the Himalayas are incomparable and simply breathtaking. Even beautifully restored frescoes and giant gilted Maitreya Buddha statue could not divert my attention from the mountains. Celestial beauty of mountain ridges covered by eternal snow forced me to think about life, achievements and failures and how shallow and abject claims of some humans for supremacy in this world. Nature rains supreme unsurpassed and unconquered.

Left - view over Himalayas from Likir gompa roof and Likir gompa, right - Maitreya.

Ancient Alchi gompa across the river is maintained by monks from Likir monastery. Current keeper Tomish' (probably I have misspelled his name in my notes) tenure is drawing to close, he spent already two years. He charges nominal fee and sells postcards, jealously guarding against making any photos inside. Nevertheless frescoes are very impressive, their style is more Kashmiri than Tibetan and some have mundane scenes.

Clockwise - Alchi gompa, keeper, bridge over Indus near Saspol, Alchi village.

Lamayuru monastery, on the contrary, has not much to boast about, except dark dimly lit cave of Marpa in the main hall. Its primary attraction is spectacular setting on precipitous cliff over the road. It is also hub for many trekking routes in the valley or across the mountains to Zanskar. From Khaltse we picked up 5 monks of Lamayuru to give them a lift. I travelled alone in huge jeep and did not mind to give free lift to locals especially when public transport system is all but non-existant. That's why I was rarely alone in car all the way to Kargil. Monks were naturally grateful for my courtesy and when I asked them to hang somewhere prepared Buddhist flags with my name, names of my relations and prayers, they promised to put them on the top.    

Clockwise - I with monks from Lamayuru, and views of Lamayuru gompa from three sides.

After crossing Fatu La, one of three passes on the road to Kargil, there is weird scene, described by some as moonscape. I remembered what Italian traveller Niccolo told me about the highlights of road to Kargil he undertook - "on every curve, on every turn you will find amazing views". Moonscape, as though hit by meteorites, was surely one of such wonders. In Mulbekh right beside the road there is a huge carved figure of Maitreya in similar to Bamian Buddhas style. It predates Tibetan Buddhist art by thousand years, probably belongs to first centuries AD. When I was travelling in Himalayas I met many Bengali tourists and Mulbekh was not exception.

Clockwise - famous moonscape near Namika La, Maitreya and gompa in Mulbekh, Bengalis in café and weird rocks near Mulbeck.

When we reached Kargil, unremarkable border town it was already dark. Women are not seen, local shias follow very strict rules. On the last stretch of the route from Mulbekh to Kargil we gave lift to one local woman, a teacher in school. My driver was courting her, but after reaching town she disappeared - I asked Haneef, "so she declined your friendship?". I knew he is married and has children but drivers never give up. Buildings in Kargil still have holes and scares of shelling when the town was invaded by Pakistan in 1999. Niccolo in Leh recommended me Kargil Continental, telling it's only acceptable hotel, Siachen is closed for winter, all others, praised in Lonely Planet, are grim lot. I advised him to give LP authors some suggestions, all present laughed. However in Kargil I had to agree with him, though not about Continental - dark poorly kept rooms were musty. Siachen was open (or reopen) and I spent there few hours because to go through Zoji La pass we have to start at 3 o'clock in the night.

Zoji La - pass separating Ladakh and Kargil from Kashmir.

We fortunately passed Drass, the coldest place in India, where we had morning chai, and pass itself with very strict blockpost of Indian army. There was another jeep with Kashmiris behind us, my driver told me about their travails - army soldiers will check them thoroughly for about half an hour. It was just first checkpost in Kashmir as there are too many to mention here. Sometimes soldiers just ask who am I, sometimes look at my passport, several times it was complete checkout, personal and luggage. I cannot say it was pleasant experience. Photography is prohibited as army posts and camps are everywhere. The road after descending from Zoji La lies in verdant picturesque valley and we reached Sonamarg, the Golden Meadows, to breakfast time. Immediately I was touted a lodging in Srinagar's houseboat by café owner, of course the houseboat belongs to his brother. It's usual story with Kashmere touts but I met before in Bhopal one Australian family with adopted Indian children. They told me how they were tricked by Delhi travel agent into mediocre houseboat with rude owner.

Dal lake.

Srinagar looks like Central Asian capital, it's clean sprawling city with wide green boulevards. I visited Mughal Gardens, walked along the Jhelum river and spent half-day floating in shikara boat on Dal lake - it's intiguing place with the life of its own, complete with doctors, emporiums and vegetable bazaars. It was cold to stay in houseboat and I opted for hotel Grand in the downtown, in opposite of Addhoo's where foreign correspondents usually hang out (or rather cocooned). Most hotels have worn out rooms, it's understandable given the dip of tourist market after renewal of guerilla war. Indian problems with Kashmir started right after 1947 but after 1989 when pro-Indian National Conference party rigged elections and after demonstrations were brutally dispersed new round of violence followed. It's difficult to estimate how big support militants enjoy as in Kashmir everyone looks suspicious and not easily to speak out. My laptop raised a string of oily questions from hotel staff - what is purpose of my visit, how long I plan to stay, whom I want to meet etc. Foreigners stay in houseboats and congregate in restaurants along the Boulevard, on the south shore of Dal, but they were also discreet. When touts asked me what I think about Kashmere I was sincere - it's very beautiful but soldiers are too many to feel comfortable - they instantly turn inward, forgetting about handicrafts they had touted.
If political views seemed to be restrained religious feelings are not. Everywhere I saw signs of muslim piety and influence wielded by ulema. Muezzins from numerous mosques wake dwellers and guests of city as early as 5 o'clock in the morning - their prayers are transmitted over the town by radios blowing at full power. In the day around masjids priests put carpets for devouts. Friday sermons are very agitated, resembling more political meetings than preaching gospel. After 8 PM there are no people in the street, as though there was imposed curfew (in fact there was none but it became custom and people reluctance to venture after dark is justified for security reasons). After 2 days in Srinagar I left my hotel and went out to find auto. Suddenly I heard call from nowhere. Looking around I found who was calling me - Indian soldier from hidden post - I could see only his eyes. He asked me few questions and wished me safe journey. It was timely. From Lal Chawk I took a seat in jeep for Jammu, where in newspapers I read about grenade attack early morning in Lal Chawk - several passerbys died on spot.

Clockwise - shikara on Dal lake, river Jhelum, Amar Mahal in Jammu and again Dal

Jammu is chaotic noisy city, its attractions include Raghunath temple and Amar Mahal museum in the beginning of road to Srinagar. Nearby is the most thourough checkpost, the first on the road to Kashmir. In bus station I felt like returning to India - relentless touts were determined to put me in one of the buses. I actually wanted to go by rail but gave up after seeing a single bed seat with big window, individual lamps and curtains in brand new sleeper bus.
Lying in the bed I was thinking about my trip and what I have gone through. Travels over the country, which is subject of writer's books is necessity even if books are just redundant guidebooks. For writing books on history of India, for example, I feel it's obligation to visit all places of historical importance, looking at imposing buildings and art treasures, seeing into eyes of people, talking about their worries. The past and the future are hidden in today's life full of problems and aspirations. Having returned to Delhi, my favourite city where I spent best years of my life, I realized it's not the end of trip, merely a stop on long lifetime journey.