Spectacular views at a price...Kashmir

Within ten minutes of leaving Jammu I had already pulled a muscle in my back, my head had hit the roof 20 odd times, and cramp was developing in my feet. These were the least of my worries.
The driver was in a hurry, or from my experiences from Delhi taxis and rickshaws they naturally drive like complete lunatics. Thank god we were in the back, at least we wouldn't see what was going to hit us. If we were hit there was a 99% chance it was going to be a scared cow, or one of the hundreds of overladen colourful lorries descending from the hills . Everyday these lorries crash on this only main road route to Srinaga, often chrashing hundreds of feet into the valleys below. The mountain scenery was breath taking, and made the pain and fear a little easier to handle.

After a hour or so we had the pleasure of the driver playing his favourite punjaby pop music at full volume, and playing on his mobile phone. This was looking rather dangerous. Several hours into the journey, one bloated dead cow at the edge of the road, monkeys everywhere; we then had our first near miss. These drivers overtake on blnid corners going up a hills, infact all the time. We soon found ourselves looking into the horn blowing front of a colourful lorry rapidly descending (probably with hardly any breaks), and subsequently skidded to the nearside of the road. One of the Indian passengers informed me that the driver was professional, and I had no need to worry. That made me think for awhile.

As we crossed into Kashmir we were taken from the jeep, armed soldiers at the ready to be questioned, and checked for our reasons for entering Kashmir. No problem, but all a paper exercise; we were waved through, and the thought of a few more hours in the back of the jeep was not good news to my already tired and aching body; sore head included, and ringing ears.

If going up was bad, descending the mountains was a nightmare. Every five minutes the driver rammed his breaks on, and the four back passengers (myself included) were literally hurled forward, and squashed. The only benefit of our opposite facing bench seats was that we would miss the pleasure of seeing who hit us.