Gosani Palace

Above: Water Taxi on Dal Lake in Kashmir.

Sunday 23rd October 1983

Awoke at 10:50 hrs! After a good breakfast in our “local”, the Paradise Vegetarian Restaurant, we hired some push bikes (bicycles) to tour the city and the surrounding area. After a few red herrings and bum steers, we found the Tourist Reception Centre and I bought a map of the area. We pedalled off and eventually discovered the best hidden Youth Hostel yet. It was a colossal place, but it was closed on Sundays.

We found out that the film “Breaker Morant” was showing at the local cinema and planned to see it later on. A quick browse around the local clothes stalls told us that the merchants were out to get what they could get and profiteering was the order of the day, asking prices that would be expensive in England. We returned to the Paradise Vegetarian Restaurant for a snack of fried cheese on toast for me and porridge (which was a treat) for George.

We pedalled along the lakeside road out of Srinagar. Dodging huge dragonflies, we idled along and talked about the old days when we were active members of the Isleworth Explorers Boys Club. A pale sun broke through the clouds and despite the uncomfortable saddles, we had a very pleasant ride. The bikes were returned, and we walked back to the boat along the boulevard.

Our intention to buy food or drink (especially alcoholic) was thwarted by rip-off artists all along the way. Prices were far too high, even by home standards and, when a newsagent even jacked the price of a newspaper well above its printed price, we walked away in disgust.

Tourism has taken hold like a cancer in this once pleasant land. Everyone is after money. Even the little children hold their hands out and the shikara boys use their monopoly to extort extra cash. Behind every smile lurks a greedy desire. No one we have met in India so far has offered us friendship or service save for personal financial gain.

In the failing light we were rowed back to the Gosani Palace by a youngster that incurred the wrath of his comrades by taking us for the official price of 50 paise (The Indian rupee, sign: ₹; currency code: INR, is the official currency of India. The rupee is subdivided into 100 paise). We repaid his honesty with 1.5 Indian Rupees and he rowed away with a delighted smile on his face. On board we supped tea and repelled a persistent waterborne trader, who was selling papier mâché knick-knacks, as dusk fell.

Kashmir appears to be the home of the Indian Army. Camps are everywhere and military vehicles fill the roads. George made a few complaints to our hosts regarding minor things such as no water supply, no electricity, no flush to our full toilet and no free transport to shore.

We made our way to “Paradise” via Nehru Park, which backed onto our houseboat mooring, and enjoyed a lovely feast of vegetable korma, vegetable fried rice and warm naan bread. We walked back and, hopefully, endured the profiteering of the shikara rowers for the last time. They charged 2 Indian Rupees to Nehru Park, a distance of about 15 yards across the mill pond calm lake, which required no effort at all. Back at the boat we were glad to find the power back on and a clean bog (toilet).