Ladakh. An ancient capital nestled in amongst the Himilaya's. Surrounded by a large military base and the friendliest people you will ever meet, this truly is one place that you feel adventurous..
Two days ago we went, on a whim, no less to one of the highest expanses of water in the world. It is called Pangong lake. It borders what used to be Tibet and India and surprisingly it was salt water.
We arrived and our driver, Hassan, assisted with the tents. A man came tearing out of nowhere demanding that we pay him 100 rupees for the two tents, at which point I lost my nerve -it has been getting easier and easier to lose recently- threw money at him and told him to piss off in no uncertain terms. The joys of being tired and higher than any mountain in Europe, trying to breath can be difficult around here. As can running, walking or doing anything that isn't lying down to get out of the heat.
We came back from said camping trip at a godforsaken time in the morning. We were in a rush to catch a polo match. Yes, I said it, Polo.
Leh, sits as the most remote town in India at 3500 meters. It doesn't have a lot and everything it does have is sold as (the highest in the world) such as the tennis court -they really do know their clientele.
So we arrrived on said polo pitch after our guts had been dragged over the third highest road in the world. Did I forget to mention I don't like horses? Well there it is. I don't like horses. They are to big and unpredictable, like Tyson on valium, could go either way.
Ultimately I ended up sitting on the pitch as seven plump men ran their miniature horses ragged into the ground. A polo enthusiast, don't ask, informed me that they were really good. I tried to reply as if I gave a fuck but not really to much avail. I do try you know, but those who know me also know that my mouth may lie but my face cannot.
The only time anything remotely interesting happened was when two riders, horses and all collided in the middle of the pitch. This is more like it I thought as the ball came hurtling towards me, and my compadres, followed by a dust storm and in the middle of that storm where ten riders, all seemingly chasing the same ball, coming right towards me. However, to my benefit some happy go lucky guy managed to scoop the ball away and I returned to my seat, four rows down after making somewhat of an arse of myself.
Now i'm sitting trying to book an internal flight to Delhi, I know, be careful but toss it up yourself. An hour and a half on a crappy plane or 36 hours with a death defying driver hurtling over the top of the himilayas. I think i'll fly.
Buy the ticket, take the ride.
Mahalo brothers and sisters,
Talk soon
