Cartographic Memories pt.2
Leh to Sonamarg
The experience of landing in Leh was truly remarkable. An aeronautically complex and dangerous spiral descent into the valley, over high mountains onto a part tar - part gravel runway, offered amazing views into this new moonscape situated 3,524 m above sea level. Having spent nearly my whole life at sea level, breathing, walking and talking at the same time quite quickly became difficult! But we soon acclimated.
This green valley with towering mountains either side offered much needed respite and a change of pace. Although the capital of the union territory Ladakh, Leh only has a population of around 30,000 people of predominantly Buddhist religion. Palpable with history, Leh was once an important stopover on trade routes along the Indus Valley between Tibet, China and India. It still functions as an important buddhist festival town, and most unfortunately, we missed the public visit of His Holiness, the Dalai Lama by a matter of days.
In Leh we stayed with a local family who had turned one of their pavilions into a homestay. From this welcoming base, we were free to explore the old town and Palace.
To set the scene of the town and surrounding landscape, Leh is seasonally connected to the rest of India by two high-altitude roads both of which are subject to landslides and neither of which are passable in winter when covered by deep snows. The geographical region of Ladakh Union Territory is the highest altitude plateau region in India and includes the town of Leh. The enormous mass of the Himalayas that surround this area create a rain shadow, denying entry to the moisture-laden clouds of the Indian monsoon. Because of this, Ladakh is a high altitude desert, with the main source of water being the winter snowfall on the high mountains. Summers are short, although just long enough to grow crops such as the naked barley in tamed green terraces. Interestingly, the proportion of oxygen is less than in many other places at a comparable altitude because of lack of vegetation. There is little moisture to temper the effects of rarefied air.
Leh as a town is a terraformed landscape with a series of mudbrick structures jammed tightly at the base of the Leh Palace, constructed circa 1600 by Sengge Namgyal, and looking very much like the ancient Ziggurat form or Ur (located in modern day Iran). The Palace is an excellent example of Tibetan secular architecture - layered with timber and stone to deal with frequent earthquakes that occur in the area - mainly due to the Indian and Eurasian tectonic plates convergent boundary. Old monk prayer books and texts can be found beautifully wrapped and stored in timber pigeon holes through the innards of the Palace.
Leh is a hand formed, Human Scaled and almost diagrammatic example of most of the principles outlined in Christopher Alexander, Sara Ishikawa and Murrey Silverstein's A Pattern Language. It has a lovely, organically livable feel to it, despite being located in an immensely harsh environment. It seems that the local architecture has been slowly added to over time - creating a rambling and labyrinthine series of terraces, lanes and flat roof houses.
Sprinkled amongst the town and topping the surrounding hilled peaks are ancient limewashed prayer stupas, mimicking melting wedding cakes in their crudest form. While the enormous Himalaya wall in the valley town of Leh. This is our view as we dine, surprised, at an excellent Italian restaurant called Bon Appetit. It's one of those meals I'll never forget.
Water drives prayer wheels in streams, infinitely spinning in the spring and summer melts whilst robust old women shepherd their flocks in the rural high hinterlands. We depart Leh and continue on our journey via the road west, towards Sringar. Despite being clear on the map that the terrain is steep in this part of the world - it takes an in person experience to truly appreciate the true magnitude of the contour change in levels! Our journey through the Himalayas continued through to Lamayuru, a surreal and barren landscape that is made up of rolling moonscape-like hills of soft peaty soil with a powdery consistency. Often described as having the same texture as the moon. Freezing cold, even in summer - we spent an uncomfortable night shivering in the local monastery come hostel, surrounded by the beautiful luna landscape.
The next day was spent driving on through to Kargil, located less than 6 kms from the border of Pakistan. Increasingly the cultural landscape and people ceased to reflect my assumptions of India - much less the landscape.
Kargil, I recall, was incredibly hostile, with dozens of idle, unemployed men desperate for our fare. The road west from this point became incredibly sketchy - A narrow dirt track in some parts with what I estimated to be as a 1000 metre drop off. Not much of a highway but well used by heavy transport trucks, decorated in the most fantastical colours and patterns. Inshallah (god willing) indeed.
After a stressful driver change in Kargil, we pause for tea at Dras - Traditionally known as Hem-babs, which means "snow land" - the coldest place in India with average winter temperature dipping below -20 degrees Celsius. Commonly called the "The Gateway to Ladakh". From here onwards our journey transitions from the high altitude desert to a lush, almost Swiss Alps like landscape. As we snake through along the dirt road, the semi-nomadic Gujjars and Bakerwals herdsmen pitch their tents and tether their horses in valleys next to glaciers.
Driving down a tight multi hair pinned road, one lane wide, heavy trucks and cars manage to negotiate each other just enough to pass. Looking out, one didn't see the side of the road, just a fall from the side of the mountain to the valley floor. We arrived at Sonamarg, the last port of call on our journey to Srinagar. Know as the 'meadow of gold', Sonamarg is a beautiful hill station town that has historical significance as a gateway on the ancient Silk Road, connecting Kashmir with Tibet. Today is a popular destination for trout fishing and hiking. It also serves as a strategically important military base for the Indian Army in the continuing regional dispute with Pakistan.
It was from this point on that things got momentarily hairy…
To be continued in part 3.
