October 26th, 2007
At last, tourists flocking back to Kashmir
SRINAGAR, India — The lines to take cable-car rides to a Himalayan snow field are long. Every viewpoint on the forested mountain roads is full of camera-clicking picnickers. And resorts, hotels and houseboats are overbooked with visitors.
The tourists have come back to Kashmir.
For the first time since an Islamic insurgency erupted here in 1989, thousands of Indian tourists — encouraged by recent peace overtures between India and Pakistan — are leaving the sweltering summer plains to enjoy vacations in this picture-perfect place. Nearly 100,000 tourists, including 3,000 foreigners, have visited Kashmir since January — compared to just over 10,000 during the same period last year, Shazia Khan of the Jammu-Kashmir State Tourism Corp. told The Associated Press.
“Our expectations are high this year. We hope that many more will continue to arrive,” Khan said as she prepared to receive a new batch of tourists disembarking from air-conditioned coaches at the Tourist Reception Center in Srinagar, the state’s summer capital.
Set in the Himalayas at 5,600 feet above sea level, Kashmir is a green, saucer-shaped valley full of fruit orchards and surrounded by snowy mountain ranges. About 100 lakes dot its highlands and plains. Glacier-fed streams flow through the forests, hillsides and over grasslands covered with wildflowers. The tourist season lasts until late October.
“I can’t describe what it feels like to lie down on the houseboat deck and count the stars on a clear night,” said Pawan Kumar, a computer professional from the steaming southern Indian city of Secunderabad, enjoying Kashmir’s coolness.
A short distance away, on the promenade along Srinagar’s famous Dal Lake, Akhtar Hussain, a 30-year-old boatman, invited strolling tourists for a ride in his brightly colored gondola, called a “shikara.”
“I painted my boat and got new upholstery for the seats. I was a boy when so many tourists used to come here,” said Hussain. He describes the new arrivals as “God’s mercy.”
Kashmir was once one of Asia’s most popular tourist destinations, particularly with trekkers and honeymooners, drawing 800,000 tourists every year — about 40 percent of them foreigners. Tourism accounted for nearly 20 percent of the economy of the Indian-controlled state. Then in 1989, the explosions and gun battles began. The crowds trickled to less than 25,000 per year, after repeated travel warnings by Western governments, fears of war and extensive media coverage of the separatist violence.
Kashmir, at India’s northern tip, is divided, with Pakistan controlling one-third of the Himalayan region. Both countries claim all of it and have fought two wars over it since 1947. Relations between the two countries are improving, and most countries, such as the United States, have withdrawn their warnings against travel to India. But they continue to advise against visits to Jammu-Kashmir, although Latin American and Southeast Asian nations never issued such advisories, and their tourists outnumber Westerners.
Mohammed Ashraf, director general of tourism in Jammu-Kashmir, the state’s official name, said he is fighting to bridge what he calls a “communication gap” with the international media, to counter the negative image of the Kashmir Valley portrayed to potential tourists.
“Our efforts are bearing fruit. . . . We are getting back on the rails,” said Ashraf.
Yet a first-time visitor being driven through Srinagar to his idyllic houseboat can’t help but notice the soldiers patrolling with loaded rifles, some in trucks with their guns pointed at cars on the road. Sandbagged bunkers dot the roads around the mirror-like lake.
“It’s a war zone,” said shocked New Delhi resident Vijay Long, on his first visit to Kashmir in mid-June.
Although he reveled in the cool, clean air, the peaceful shikara rides on Dal Lake and the chance to stand on a snow-covered hill, it was the guns and soldiers he told his friends about back in New Delhi.
He also described the extensive searches required to board the flight out of Kashmir and the attempt by a policeman at the airport to confiscate his bird-watching binoculars under the guise of security precautions. “He said he couldn’t see through them so he would have to keep them,” Long said, relating an experience other travelers have also encountered.
Travelers to and from Kashmir cannot take any batteries, soap or liquids in their carry-on bags and are frequently separated from their valuables — such as cameras and other equipment — during the security checking process.
Some tourists also complain that Kashmir’s travel industry has become greedy, and hoteliers and boatmen fleece customers due to the long years of uncertainty.
“We feel bad about it and assure tourists that it is an anomaly. But we also realize that the long strife has made us anxious. . . . What if tourists don’t return?” said Hussain, the boatman. “Fourteen years of idleness can make some people unscrupulous. But we still try to maintain our credo of goodwill and honesty.”