Travel blog: Horse trekking holiday in Kashmir

A combination of too many years in London, a lack of proper responsibilities and an unhealthy admiration for Michael Palin have led Nick Claxton to spend a year travelling the globe. A terminally-disorganised 24-year-old taking on the world - solo. He will be sharing his experiences from India and Nepal, south-east Asia, New Zealand and South America. This month he is reporting from India and Nepal. Here is his third blog entry:


The nights in Kashmir are cold and silent. Only rarely do the circling eagles disturb the quiet. It feels almost as if an extra blanket is thrown over the entire place by the mountains as the sun drops behind them.

I'd slept late again. We'd planned an early start to the trekking routes around the valley of Pahalgam - a couple of hours drive from Srinigar - but I had to be shaken awake around ten. Arfat had been up nearly four hours for his prayers and to get everything ready.

So I rather shamefacedly bundled my dream-filled head into the already-packed car and we headed out of town.

Driving anywhere in India gives you little margin for error but the varying road surfaces and sudden traffic jams from the regular police cordons make Kashmir that extra bit more challenging.

Luckily for late-waking travellers, most Kashmiri drivers welcome these challenges and meet them impatiently with their accelerator down.

I knew I could ask for us to take it slower but I felt at ease with Arfat at the wheel and we made good time up to Pahalgam and an altitude of 2,130 metres.

Still, we only managed to beat the weather as far as the village before the clouds gathered above.

Rather than cancel our day's plans completely, Arfat and Javi took our bags and food supplies up to the hostel (£25 a night) and I was led by my guide Rajiv eastward up the valley on the back of a rag-tailed pony named Olin.

My riding is pretty rusty but I don't think real horse-riding ability is needed for anyone trekking in these mountains.

More important is a sense of balance and a strong grip - especially as the pony is likely to take its own way no matter how much you yank on the reins!

To be honest the ride was sure-footed all the way - despite Olin's determination to dangle me as close to the crumbling edges of ravines as he dared.

The route was a fairly well travelled one up to large flat clearing ringed by snow-capped peaks.
It had been fairly easy going but we took a breather to take in the view. Lying back on the grass, I found, as on many other occasions in Kashmir, that the atmosphere demands a simple, smiling appreciation of where we were.

It was only the outbreak of heavy hail that encouraged us to start our journey down.

The ice and wind chilled me on the way back to the hostel and I was left shivering under my heavy poncho.

But Javi placed a 'winter wife' (a basket of charcoal and ash) under my feet and the welcome warmth of dinner eased the cold.

We even braved the open air to play cards - and enjoyed the great views of the mountains at sunset.

We made two more treks out from Palhagam over the next few days. With clear skies above it was much better for walking.

The first day Rajiv took me up past the snowline to 2,895 metres at Chandawari.

The paths were not as deserted as I had expected at this height because it is a popular pilgrimage route for Indian tourists to the Armanth - a mountain cave some 3,888 metres up - where Hindus believe Shiva told his consort Parvati the secret of immortality.

In the past, pilgrims taking this route have been targeted in terrorist attacks but there are still many willing to take the risk.

So many in fact that some hard-weathered locals stood out all day in the snow, ready to offer sled-rides back down the slopes. I initially turned this down and headed up the snow behind Rajiv.

After struggling to keep my footing as we gained a few hundred metres in height, I dropped down to take in the view from a rock - only to see the most persistent local following us, with a sled on his back and making much lighter work of the climb.

Wearily, I chatted for a while then rewarded his efforts by jumping on behind him and taking the easy way down off the snow.

The final trekking day was the hottest and I was able to walk comfortably in just a T-shirt.

Originally, we'd hoped to make it up to the Kolahoi glacier at 5,425 metres over a two day trek but the route was still blocked by snow and so we set out past the last village up the Lidderwat valley.

I was worried that after two days of trekking I'd feel my stamina wane and make the final route hellish.

In terms of distance, this was definitely the longest trek I was to take in Kashmir - around 30km in the first day.

But we followed the road most of the way with the beautiful milky-blue, glacier-fed Lidder River running alongside and there were few really daunting climbs to reach the village of Aru.

After about four hours walking, we rested for lunch before heading up steeper slopes to examine a sacred spring, relax and take in the scenery.

The locals call Kashmir 'paradise on earth' despite its violent political background - and sitting up there in the sunshine, gazing at enormous peaks in the distance that laughed at my pitiful attempts to reach them, it crossed my mind that they might just be right.

Nick Claxton