Snowboarding in Gulmarg, Kashmir

One week later, I was finally on the airplane towards Srinagar. Before landing in the Kashmir valley, we flew over a seemingly endless range of snow-covered mountains. They were clearly not as immense as the eastern peaks around Mount Everest but still, a white ocean of mountains, as far as you can see.

Srinagar airport wasn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before. In fact, it was more of a military base than a civilian airport. Instead of the usual airport ground staff, our plane was received and guided by armed soldiers. The airport itself was relatively small but heavily guarded with armed soldiers. There was only one small booth with a lonely tourism officer to welcome visitors like me. He seriously tried to convince me that all the famous Srinagar houseboats can only be booked with him, at the best rate of course ;)

These two were the most hospitable guys I have ever met; they treated me like their own brother. This is the pure opposite of how you would be treated in the Swiss mountains. What they lacked in clear communication (such as the reason why they could not pick me up inside the airport), they made up with friendliness. First, they brought me to the Dal Lake, where all the famous house-boats float silently. They picked a tour-boat for me and helped me negotiate a good price for a short, guided trip.

The captain was also like family to me, giving me lots of insights into the Kashmiri traditions. We cruised through dozens of house-boats and a floating market. In the middle of the lake, we stopped at a restaurant boat, where he introduced me to the unique saffron tea, the Kashmiri Kahwa. Coming from New Delhi, I was now in a totally different world. Everything was moving slower, more gracefully and more enjoyable. After this relaxing boat ride, my two hosts drove me up some windy roads to Gulmarg. One village before, in Tangmarg, we stopped for lunch. My friends invited me to a yummy Chicken Biryani at their family’s shop.

Gulmarg itself reminded me a lot of small Swiss mountain villages, a few wooden houses tucked along a curvy road, surrounded by a forest. In the center, there was not a market square nor houses, but a vast plain, where people were riding snowmobiles or tried standing on skis. I wonder if there once was a crystal-clear mountain lake?

I did not find an answer to that but instead received all my snowboard equipment. The brothers drove me to their friend’s shop, to equip me with all necessities: snowboard, boots, ski dress, gloves, goggles, helmet, shovel and a beeper. Within a few minutes, I was ready to hit the slopes – or rather the uncombed backcountry, as I learned the next day. I was stunned by the efficiency and professionality of this little shop – and more than happy about the low price he made me, he gave me a substantial friendship discount.

The Grand Mumtaz Resort looked nice from the outside but turned out to be quite a disappointment. The large rooms were too cold and the overly late breakfast buffet minimalistic. Because of Kashmir’s electricity situation, they could only operate the central heating or have hot water – but not both at the same time. The tiny electrical room heater they gave me, did not help me much. So, I spent a lot of time in the comfortable and warm bed, a welcome change from my normal restless travels. Next time, I get a cheaper hotel.

After a good night sleep, I finally hit the mountains! Fayaz, my new buddy, helped me to get a ticket, and together we embarked the gondola. Trusting this masterpiece of new French technology, I could fully enjoy the ride. Not a single cloud covered the mountains, and I had a stunning view over the Kashmir valley, surrounded by mountains as far as you can see. Halfway up, we disembarked and walked to the ski lift. It was already past 10 am, and to my astonishment, he was still motionless. As we slowly approached the booth, they turned on the engines – for their very first guests of the day!

The next day, I convinced Fayaz to check out the second level of the Gondola. First and foremost, I wanted to enjoy the panoramic view from Mount Apharwat Peak, not thinking about the snowboard yet. And it was even better than anticipated! Only the freezing temperatures and strong wind kept me on the hard ground of reality. Otherwise, it felt like hovering in the sky, high above the valley and lower hills. After half an hour of indulging in the scenery, we finally jumped on our boards.

Despite being cold and exhausted, I was mesmerized by Kashmir. I had one more day before returning to the dusty and polluted air of New Delhi. My last day, I spent together with both of my new friends. In an old, rumbling car, Fayaz and Umar chauffeured me around, took me to roaring Ningli Nalah Waterfall and the Jammia Mosque. No Kashmir experience is complete without trying local specialties. For lunch, we ate snacks out of newspaper: fried lotus stems called “Nader Monje” that tasted a bit like spicy fries and the local parantha (flatbread) called “Tobruk Halwe-Porath”.

In the afternoon, we went to the lower hills where all the local boys played cricket. I felt really connected to those people and the land, as I silently observed them running around and enjoying the nature, instead of consuming TV or social media. Shortly before the sunset, Fayaz and Umar collected dry wood and lightened a bonfire. There we stood for an hour, in a tight circle around the natural fireplace, warming our bodies and soul. For my last night, they invited me to stay and eat at their home, together with the entire family.

Other than that, my last drive was smooth and eventless – and I arrived way ahead of time at the airport. Due to the raised security levels, the check-in procedure took a little longer, having to declare and identify my luggage multiple times. I didn’t bother much; I was not in a hurry to leave this heavenly place. In my mind, I was still high up in the mountains, feeling the fresh air in my lungs. Lost in beautiful memories, I waited for the delayed flight back to New Delhi. Kashmir will always be in my heart.