Romancing rapids and rowboats

Romancing rapids and rowboats

I was in love and wished to celebrate the romance at a place that would match the ecstasy of new love. Two hearts beat as one – my partner and I agreed on the dizzying heights of Kashmir. Passionate travellers, forever ready for an exciting experience, we started our holiday with white-water rafting down the Lidder River in Pahalgam.

Life jackets and helmets on, we sat on the edges of the raft, instructed to sit on its floor every time we had to ride a big wave. Initially, we floated along small waves swiftly, but we were soon in choppy waters and drifting downstream. The raft’s speed picked momentum and bobbed up and down dangerously throughout. The fact that there were two experts manning the raft provided no solace when the first mad rush of water splashed all over us. The water was chilling cold and we were soaked through our jackets and freezing. The sun and water were flirtatious — the sun would stream into our faces and within seconds, the ice-cold water would wash off the warmth. This frenzy carried on for 20 minutes and though we were thrilled, we were glad when we finally got off at the bank to have pictures clicked of a ride successfully completed.   

Elated, we drove through winding avenues of alpine trees towards Dal Lake for our houseboat stay. Having seen Gulmarg, Sonmarg and the Mughal Gardens on a previous visit, we skipped those and chose to spend some reclusive moments.

We were craving for a hot drink, so driver Prince stopped by a quaint, wayside shop. As we breathed in the wood-scented air, a young man tilted a copper samovar to pour out steamy, saffron-flavoured Kahwa generously sprinkled with almond slices. Every sip was refreshing. When we got up to leave, shop owner Mohamed came around the counter to dab itar on our wrists with a flourish. A mark of Kashmiri hospitality!

En route, before arriving at the main gateway to hire shikaras, we passed several houseboats and were told that these were the less expensive ones; houseboats are classified into categories depending upon the facilities offered. Soon, multi-hued shikaras were in view, lined up against the edge of the Dal Lake. We haggled with one to take us across to our houseboat Dangola Palace. We nestled into beautifully draped cushioned seats and navigated our way through other shikaras selling fresh flowers, fruits, Pashmina shawls, and jewellery.

A brief check-in ensued. The sun streaming in set afire the plush colours of the carpets, the wood-panelling, intricately carved walnut furniture and curios of papier-mache. We were led through the dining area to the cosy interiors of the bedroom.

Pre-dusk, we did a shikara ride. The soft ripples the heart-shaped oar created, the stillness of lilies and weeds, and the shying away of swans, were a striking contrast to the adrenalin rush in the river. The call of the muezzin for evening prayers signalled the time to get back to the houseboat.  

A delightful dinner was the prelude to an interesting conversation with Abdul Majid Dangola, the houseboat owner. Seated in the deck flooded with moonlight, the grand old man animatedly shared anecdotes and well-preserved letters of appreciation from previous clients for high standards of hospitality since the 1920s.  

Houseboat culture dates back to the early 1900s and the current-day model is built on the lines of the bahaz which was used to transport rations. The British stayed in houseboats often and over time, amenities were enhanced to make them the floating hotels that they are today for tourists. At this point, Majid lamented the downslide of business owing to the political situation.

That tourism has been hit is apparent — the flood of tourists I had seen in 1980, has trickled down to a handful, even though the presence of the Indian Army makes it a safe haven. My partner and I were happy to have chosen Kashmir and were rewarded with treasured moments.

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