The Goddess of Synchronicity would again touch my trip in a dramatic way at the Pakistan/Indian border.  Once the van let us out at the Pakistani border station, we figured out the process for clearing the border: queue until motioned forward into the Pakistani Border/Customs building where departure paperwork was process; walk across a no man’s land between the Pakistani and Indian border gate areas, queue until motioned forward into the Indian Border/Customs building where arrival paperwork was processed; and then find onward transportation to Amritsar once cleared through Indian customs.  Cath recognized a VW minibus in the vehicle queue on the Pakistan side of the border and she talked to the three French guys in the van since she had chatted briefly with them earlier in both Iran and Afghanistan during chance meetings.  They were heading to Amritsar and then directly to Kashmir once they cleared the border and they offered Cath to join them.  She explained that she and I were not sure if we were going the same direction once we crossed the border and she definitely wanted to join them to Kashmir and asked if I was also welcome.  They said I was welcome.  They explained to her that we could not join them until we cleared the Indian border because it was just too risky for them to have us in their van on the border in case we were carrying drugs.  Cath told me about the option and said she was going with them to Kashmir whether I wanted to join or not.  I thought about that as we got through Pakistani customs, walked across the no man’s land, and then got through Indian customs without incident.  The French guys were waiting for us on the other side, we quickly exchanged greetings, and I agreed that I would appreciate a lift at least to Amritsar and would decide there whether I was going to Kashmir or not. 

I had the name of a cheap hostel in Amritsar that we drove to.  Cath and I got a room and the “Froggies” (as Cath referred to the French guys in the van—a slang term the Brits starting using for the French who frequently eat frog legs) decided to sleep in the van which they had done most of the trip—the inside of the van looked and smelled like it had been well used as lodging.  I was totally exhausted after 45 hours of continuous travel from Kabul across Pakistan to Amritsar, India.  To my lasting regret, I told Cath I was simply too tired to visit the Golden Temple (spiritual home of Sikhism) and she saw it with the Froggies while I got an early start on a much needed night of sleep.  I also needed some time alone to reflect on my trip thus far and to decide how I wanted to allocate my limited money and time for the balance of the trip and, especially, for the next weeks.  I also felt like Cath and I had largely worn out our partnership—just too much togetherness and continuous decision-making for any two people.  On the other hand, I had read amazing articles about Kashmir and all of the Hippie Trail guides and word-of-mouth made it sound uniquely beautiful and dirt cheap.  Also, the seed for my lifelong love for trekking in the Himalayas had taken root and, while I had not initially included Kashmir in my itinerary, adding an initial trek in Kashmir followed by a trek in the Annapurna Range of Nepal became my new plan.

The next morning, I discussed my plans with Cath.  She said she was fine hanging with the French guys in Kashmir or continuing to travel together and we could decide once we got to Srinagar.  She did not think she had funds for a trek and was lukewarm about the entire trekking concept.  We agreed that I would plan a trek in Kashmir and she would make her own plans at that point.  It was a good and much needed discussion and the prospect that we would part ways in a comfortable way felt good for both of us and allowed us to really enjoy the amazing days ahead in the Vale of Kashmir. 

Traveling in a van was really enjoyable.  The drive to Amritsar was beautiful, lush, and green with large birds, small critters, and lots of people and cows and activity along the road.  The guys from guys from France were, well….very French.  They could speak English with heavy accents and needed it since most of the Hippie Trail crosses former British colonies.  Like most French, they were hesitant to use their English and I suppose it was offensive that neither Cath nor I spoke any French.  We chipped in for gas on the 260 mile trip to Srinigar, Kashmir.  The trip took us across the disputed states of Jammu and Kashmir that were administered by a very difficult and disputed understanding between India, Pakistan, and China.  All three countries claimed ownership of portions of Jammu and Kashmir.  In 1978, India controlled the areas we travelled through, Pakistan controlled the areas to the northwest, and China claimed disputed areas in the north.  There was a “ceasefire” line that moved over the years based on the outcome of border skirmishes between India and Pakistan.  Just as we experienced in Iran and Afghanistan, we were again traveling in a region of the world with poorly developed and disputed government control with the added confusion that the area was pretty evenly split between Hindu/Sikh and Muslim faith.  What could possibly go wrong?