Under the Chinar Trees: My Wanderings in the Kashmir Valley (Part 1)
Our excitement was palpable, a buzzing energy that had been building for months as we planned our escape to the crown jewel of the Himalayas. I had spent so many nights pouring over maps and photographs that I could almost visualize the serene vistas and the crisp mountain air before we even left home. Finally, the day has arrived, and that long-held excitement has transformed into the breathtaking beginning of our adventure.
October 07, 2022: The lingering sweetness of incense from the Durga Puja pandals in Kolkata was still fresh in our minds. We traded the humid bustle of the city for the crisp, thin air of the Valley. Kashmir in October is a masterpiece of transition—where the greens of summer begin to surrender to the golden hues of autumn. Our journey began in Srinagar, where our hotel sat perched beside the Jhelum River. The river here feels like the city's heartbeat—steady, ancient, and wise. In the afternoon, we walked along its banks, crossing a magnificent wooden bridge that groaned softly underfoot, telling stories of a century of travelers.
As the sun began to dip, we headed to Dal Lake. As the sun set, the sky turned into a canvas of orange, pink, and purple hues. The lights from the houseboats flickered on, casting a warm, golden glow on the water. The lake reflected the dazzling lights of the houseboats, creating a spectacle of shimmering reflections. The evening air was cooler, and the atmosphere was peaceful and romantic. The gentle sway of the shikaras, the soft glow of the lights, and the distant calls to prayer created a truly magical ambiance. Witnessing this magical scene, we retired for the night.
Sonmarg: The Golden Gateway to the Glaciers
October 08, 2022: A thrill of anticipation filled the air as we set out for the much-anticipated meadows of Sonmarg, and the reality was even more breathtaking than the stories. The journey from Srinagar was a cinematic prelude, with the road snaking alongside the roaring Sindh River. Every turn revealed a new vista: dramatic limestone cliffs towering overhead and deep, plunging gorges on the other side. In the crisp October air, the valley was a masterpiece of transition—the deep greens of the towering pines beginning to blush with the gold and amber of autumn. We passed through sleepy hamlets where the scent of woodsmoke hung in the air and golden maize was spread out to dry on rooftops, adding to the dreamy, timeless quality of the drive.
The Sindh River is the lifeblood of this valley, and as it flows through Sonmarg, it serves as a constant, rhythmic companion. We hired ponies to explore the rugged terrain, following a trail that leads toward the heart of the mountains. On the way to the Thajiwas Glacier, the landscape opens up into a raw, untamed spectacle. The river carves its way through the valley floor, a lively stream of glacial melt breaking into white foam as it rushes over an ancient bed of dark, moss-covered boulders. The water is exceptionally clear, reflecting the high-altitude sun even as it churns against the rocks.
As we rode, the terrain rose sharply from the riverbanks into high alpine meadows. The grass, transitioning into its autumn gold, was dotted with massive gray rocks that seemed to have tumbled down from the peaks eons ago. On the sloping hillsides, clusters of slender pines and golden-leafed trees stood against the sky, marking the start of the dense forest line. Crossing a simple wooden bridge that spans the water, we felt like we were entering a deeper wilderness. The destination was the view of the glacier itself—a colossal expanse of ancient ice that hangs like a frozen white waterfall against the slate-gray mountains. The mountains here don’t just sit on the horizon; they loom over you, their summits draped in eternal snow and wisps of wandering clouds. Standing there, with the raw energy of the rushing river below and the silent, icy majesty of the glacier above, it was indeed a heaven on earth. Witnessing this incredible landscape, we felt the true magic of the Himalayas.
As afternoon approached, we eventually had to turn back and begin our descent, though our hearts remained tethered to those icy peaks and golden slopes. Even as we rode away, we found ourselves constantly looking back, our spirits lingering in the quiet majesty of the glacier long after it had faded from view.
Emerald Slopes and Ancient Cedars: The Magic of Gulmarg
October 09, 2022: This morning our expedition was to the valley of flowers, Gulmarg. If Sonmarg is rugged, Gulmarg is poetic. We were greeted by endless rolling meadows, a vast, undulating sea of emerald green that seemed to stretch toward the very base of the mountains. These meadows are the soul of Gulmarg; they are soft, velvety, and dotted with tiny wildflowers that sway in the cool mountain breeze. Everywhere you look, ponies graze peacefully, their rhythmic chewing and the gentle, melodic tinkling of their bells creating a soundtrack of pure tranquility. The scale of the greenery is humbling, broken only by the occasional winding dirt paths carved by years of wandering feet.
To reach the heights, we braved the 'insane' queue for the Gondola. The wait was long—a true test of patience—but the moment the cable car jolted into motion and began its steep ascent, the frustration melted away. As the cabin rose, we were pulled upward through layers of mist until we literally rose above the clouds. From the Gondola, we looked down to see the dense, dark-green cedar forests sprawling below us, occasionally dotted with the rustic, lonely silhouettes of shepherds' huts nestled in the clearings.
Stepping out at the first phase (Kongdoori), the world transformed. This plateau offers a breathtaking vantage point where the air is noticeably thinner and sharper. Up here, the high-altitude meadows were framed by ancient cedar and pine forests standing in the distance like a dark fringe against the sky. While many tourists opted for ponies to take them into the deeper interiors of the meadows, we decided to walk instead. We wanted to feel the soft earth beneath our feet and truly soak in the silent, sprawling beauty of the landscape at our own pace. It was fascinating to imagine how, in winter, these very slopes are transformed into a world-class playground enjoyed for skiing.
We grabbed a quick sandwich for lunch at the restaurant on the top, soaking in the panoramic vistas of the Himalayan range that took our breath away. After our walk, we descended as the golden hour approached, the shadows of the cedars lengthening across the valley. That night, we checked in to our hotel at Tangmarg.
Often called the 'Gateway to Gulmarg', Tangmarg felt like a cozy sanctuary tucked away from the high-altitude winds. It is a charming town where the air smells of fresh pine and damp earth. Our hotel was surrounded by a dense canopy of trees, and as night fell, the town became incredibly still. Unlike the vast openness of the meadows above, Tangmarg felt intimate and grounded, with the sound of the wind whispering through the deodars providing a peaceful backdrop to our evening. It was the perfect place to rest before the long drive to Pahalgam.
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