Day 66 - Flying into the beautiful Leh

I think I must hvave fallen asleep for 20 minutes or so. The next thing i heard over the intercom was “We are just looking for some cloud clearance and then we will begin to land”. I looked out at the cloudy sky and laughed to myself. For some reason I had come to think that planes, in this day and age, did not need to see when they were landing. As the clouds cleared and we began to descend I realised why. The peaks of the surrounding mountains where almost touching the tick cloud over. The views of the landscape below can only be described as breathtaking. A valley deeply cut through its centre with a wide low meandering river. Barren rocky and sandy hills centred around a large low village. The plane banked in a wide anti-clockwise arc amongst the lower hills and continued its descent. As we got lower I noticed what appeared to be a fairly large army base of sorts spread out across the valley floor. The plane continued is rather unusual erratic spiral downwards. Nevertheless, the pilot tocuhed the big bird down rather smoothly and be the time he fully braked and turned the plane I noticed there was less than 200 metres of runway left.

Army officers stood at the ready, as we disembarked, ushering us quickly on board the tiny awaiting buses. The views were astounding on the two minute journey to the terminal building. You could sense the difference in the altitude immediately. At 2,600 metres the air seemed different. Thinner although a million times fresher than anywhere we'd being. My tummy had begun acting the night before we left and here I was beginning to get cramps again. The airport buildling seemed pretty small as we pulled up. A tractor pulling a trailer loaded with bags arrived alongside. The moment you walked inside you were upon the one and only baggage conveyor. It clatterred to life as the bags were hauled onto it from outside. Another new and totally unique and wonderful part of India we had just arrived in. After collecting our bags and registering ourselves we exited the front of the building. Fully armed army officers seemed to be in all directions. Presumably due to the recent troubles and Leh being on the Pakistan-Indo border made it a higher security risk area. We loaded into two white taxis and began our journey towards some Rough Guide recommended guest houses. At this stage I was feeling the worse for wear with the mixture of the Delhi belly and some altitude sickness thrown in. The first three places we tried were fully booked out. We arrived at a place recommended by one of the drivers called the Meridian. I let the guys go in and check it out. Five minute later Aidan came out and started unloading his bags. He said something about it costing 1000rps as he turned and went inside. I grabbed my bags and Eoghan, feeling a bit overome by the altitude sickness, came in behind me. After some confusing we were shown to a small unmade room with hard beds with thin mattresses. I couldn't work out how it was so expensive and myself and Eoghan went up to see the lads. The boys were settling into far superior rooms with TVs. I made some comment about, “this being bullshit and said I was going to find somewhere myself as I stormed out by myself. Feeling rather sick and just wanting somewhere to lie down my stubbornness was getting the better of me I walked two minutes around the corner and found a small family run guest house with a beautiful flowered garden. I asked the gentleman standing outside, if they had a room available. He showed me into a bright double room with a separate bathroom across the hall with hot water for 300rps whether for one or two people. I agreed to take it. As I returned to the other hotel Eoghan leaned out of the bedroom window. I told hom the cost of the room if he wanted to jon me and he said we were going to put a third bed in the rooms, Still annoyed with the whoe thing I muttered something and went inside. Peter immediately offered the bed in his room and I said, probably in hindesight now, rather rudely “No thanks, I'e found somewhere” as I collected my bags. As I walked backed to the little guesthouse I realised there and then me spending too much time with a large group was not really working out. There needed to be a change of some sort. I met two English girls sitting in the garden looking at the most splendid view. I stood with my bags and chatted for a bit about the usual traveller stuff. You realise you go over the same story so any times with so many people.Its chat for the purpose of being polite. Where are you from, where have you being, how long are you staying, what did you think and where are you going????? This snippet of conversation is the most widely repeated bit of diarrohea I have spewed out as I have travelled around. Nevertheless, I stood there with these horrible stomach cramps and the weight of my bags crippling me with these totally strangers for the purpose of what I believe is polite. It finally all became too much, so I excused myself and went to my room. The lady of the house whom I had told I had a bad stomach made me a brew of fresh mint tea. I lay down on the very hard bed and fell asleep.

I woke 14 hours later read some of The Times and a bit of Catcher in the Rye. The landlady brought me another cup of her delicious mint tea. I had decided I needed some time by myself and perhaps even a month or so might suffice although I knew there were qualities, that being part of the group, were being brought out in me that I didn't like or want. I needed some Sam time. So I resolved to doing that. I fell back asleep an hour later.