Oh no...half an hour to kill before dinner, which means (gasp) the dreaded return of the merciless, axe-wielding, take-no-prisoners two-sentence review! Christ on a bike, let me out of here...

Freakonomics *** by Steven D Levitt and Stephen J Dubner
Hey, guess what, instead of just having an opinion you can collect and analyse a bunch of data to get closer to the truth! It seems that economists are surprised by this 'exciting new approach'.

The Remains of the Day ***** by Kazuo Ishiguro
Mad, passionless butler realises he's blighted his life with an obsessive professional pursuit of a 'dignity' he now sees as 'pehaps a litttle stifling, l think you'd probably agree, Sir'. Booker-winner says: 'whatever you do in life, make sure you don't end up like this', and we cannot but concur, it all being 'rather a pointless waste, wouldn't you agree, Sir'.

Independence Day ***1/2 by Richard Ford
Long, wandering gaze into the navel of tidily well-off east-coast America in the 1990s, whose main protaganists's most exciting moments are well behind him, now he's in his 'existence period'. Putlitzer prize-winner says: 'we all end up like this, but have little choice'; while two-sentence review says 'fuck off, you boring bastard, and give us something more like the brilliant "Women with Men" again, or at least try to get out more'.

This is an Indian postage stamp. If you have several days to spare, you may be able to buy one. First, find the only Post Office in town. It will be derilict, and no-one knows whether it has relocated or just closed forever. Best then to give up until tomorrow. After several days of aimless wandering, stumble across a temporary set-up in an unmarked shed behind some Government offices. Check that it's open. If, unbeleivably, it is, inside there may be a bunch of people sitting around. One of the men may sell you your postage stamp, if they have any.

Then you go into a special 'glue office' where you stick it on your postcard with some fishy-smelling paste on a lollipop stick. Then, you give it back to the man who sold you it. As you leave, a disproportionate sense of fulfillment washes over you.

You wonder idly what all the other men in the office do, apart from sit around. It remains to be seen what happens next...

Leh, Ladakh. Been for a short walk up a local 4000m hillock this morning, with a convenient start straight from the guest house. Am going well, though my calves are feeling it. Amazing views up the Indus valley, a fertile ribbon inset into the Ladakhi moonscape.

Incidentally, the guest house is known to the world as the Sur-Dung, and run by a Tibetan entrepreneur called Tenzing. Very comfy too, and cheap with it. Even has 2 types of cold shower, one from the hot tap and one from the cold.

In Leh it's been sunny and bright so far today, but the high hills are still shrouded in mist. All the high treks are affected, and there's new snow above 5000m. This has resulted in the usual valley-base festering that you get in mountain towns the world over, whether it be in Chamonix, Yosemite, Llanberis or Langdale. Restless folk sitting in bars poring over options and maps, and changing plans at the drop of a hat as soon as the weather looks slightly better than it did an hour ago.

Nevertheless, I've paid up for a 7-day trek to the south-east of here, and am off tomorrow. Tenzing has organised it, and my companions will be Mira the Danish Czeck, Luom from Quebec, a mystery Dutch woman, a guide, a cook, and a donkey. All for $30 per day. I hope the donkey has a cagoule. If it gets too glum there's a chance to bale out at the half-way stage.

Leh itself is escaping the worst of the weather, being in a rain shadow, so plenty to do around here. Yesterday I went to 3 gompas (monastaries), the best of which was at Thikse just 20 km down the road. It had a big gold buddha and loads of paintings on the walls, mostly of Buddhas and demons. The demons are pretty interesting - mostly they have been assimmilated from the Hinduism that was here first - and in the Stok gompa there was a one-monk band, chanting as fast as is humanly possible while simultaneously playing a drum and cymbal. At first I thought this was brilliant, but after 2 minutes I completely lost interest, even though he probably had hours more to go (a similar thing happens when I listen to classical music). Imagine doing that every day for 40 years.

It's possible that this supposed pure 'High Mahayana Buddhism' of Tibet and Ladakh is something of a PR job. I'm starting to think that if you've seen one gompa you've seen them all, but I once heard someone say that about stone circles, so maybe I'm missing something.

The world's highest motorable road crosses the Khardung Pass (5602m) is just up the road from here. You can hire a jeep to take you up, and a mountainbike to bring you down, for about 12 quid. That's the plan after all this hard trekking business is over.

No uploading of pics allowed here - makes the web too slow for everybody.

Avalokiteshvara is the Bodhissatva of compassion, and has 1000 heads, arms and feet, and a big white umbrella. She sits outside the office of the Head Llama of Ladakh, in Leh's Sankar Gompa, a monastary only 5 minutes' walk from our guesthouse.

After an early morning visit to the gompa, with Mad Ken the Aussie Pharmacist and Mira the Danish Czeck (who takes photos of all the Indian toilets she encounters), it seemed the Head Llama was not in residence. This was a shame, as I have a few questions that he might be able to help with. Such as...

• If we are to believe in reincarnation, and humans are way up the tree, how come there are so many of us all of a sudden?
• What do Buddhists mean when they say life is everywhere, including in rocks and stones (and are they prepared to revise that view based on a modern understanding of biology, so we can actually speak the same language)
• If science, as a way of understanding the Universe, is a flawed and wasted effort because all info has been collected by senses and processed by brains, how do you dismiss the idea of a controlled experiment, in which both experimental arms are processed by the same senses and brains but might give different results?
• How do you live in the moment when the moment is out of date by the time your brain gets signals from your senses?
• How do you live in the moment and not fuck up your future, especially when you're a) 18, b) drunk, or c) naturally impulsive, hopelessly impressionable, and have a mortgage?
• Is it OK to kill mosquitos?
• Is it OK to kill pathogenic bacteria?
• Where on the scale are Delhi taxi drivers and travel agents, and is it OK to kill them too?
• How come you priest types have all the money?
• etc

So we went for breakfast.

Then I walked up to the Shanti Stupa, a big monument on a hill at the edge of town, as this had been recommended to me as a test of trek-readiness. I was pleased to do it without stopping! But I'm not letting it go to my head, as now (2 hours later) I feel completely knackered.

Bus journey in unexpectedly brilliant surprise shock!!!! The most awesome scenery ever. Looking out of the bus window, the Himalayas seemed unremittingly huge, and around here the mountains are small in comparison with the Karakoram and Nepali giants. The journey was pretty relaxed, with lots of stops for chi and snacks. Some bits of the road were well scary, especially with a window seat. Plenty of roadside cragging opportunities, which the Indian Army seem to be moving in on. At Kargil, the halfway stop, we slept a few hours in various guest houses before regrouping at 4 am for Day 2, most of which was through barren scenery - we're on the edge of the Tibetan Plateau now.

Note to self: write details to Alexei Sayle and David stafford, in case they ever update 'Great Bus Journeys of the World'. The no. 37 from Barnsley to Chesterfield just fell off the scale.

It's hot in Ladakh, and for a desert, atypically warm at night. The locals reckon global warming is having an effect, to the extent that last July the Monsoon penetrated as far north as Zanskar and Ladakh for the first time ever - they had to chopper out loads of soggy trekkers, stranded mid-trek in the hills. The pattern looks set to repeat again, as the passes opened early this year - there certainly wasn't much snow in evidence en route from Srinagar.

Been meeting interesting people (Mad Ken the Aussie Pharmacist, Jim the Hyper, Five-Year-Photo-Mission-Mike), having fun and good conversation. There are loads of internet places, decent food and no hassle, so reckoning on staying here for a few days and checking out a few monastaries and monuments before going trekking.

HOLD the PRESSES I have a seat on tomorrow's bus (Monday). Last I heard, the t'interweb hasn't reached Leh yet, so there may be some radio silence for a week or two...

Leh and Ladakh, with Kargil and the approach road from Srinagar on the left

So this is where I am, and where I'm going is off the map past Sonamarg and Dras...

Sorta hanging around til the first available semi-luxury bus goes, on Tuesday. It takes 12h to get to Kargil, where it stops for the night, then a further 12h from there to Leh. Today the road is closed for blasting and clearing - in fact it hasn't been open for more than a couple of weeks since the winter snows receded. I have a ticket to fly out of Leh to Delhi on 9 July.



It turns out that, due to recent fraud scams, none of the boutique airlines are accepting foreign credit cards for on-line bookings, which makes them totally useless. However, for all your Kashmiri travel needs I recommend Farooq at Destination India Travel Centre - a thoroughly nice man who helped me out in my hour of need, and all for the standard 100 rupees commission.

This Hindu shrine is on the hill just south of Dal Lake, and the ascent makes for some good exercise once you manage to get out onto open ground. Today this involved a fairly direct approach that resulted in me picking my way through what seemed to be a graveyard, but we won't read too much into that.

Inside is a big stone lingam, symbol of Shiva or Hugh G Rection, I'm not sure. I have no idea why this should be a place of pilgrimage, but there's no accounting for religious belief.
I now have a bus ticket to Leh, which means I've finally given up on flying around and eased myself in the overland travelling zone. It's taken a few days, but as they say, India is a hard nut to crack.

Samosas are very cheap, 3 rupees each (about 4p), and fresh on the street. Click on the lower image if it hasn't come up on your browser.

You can also buy a yummy bag of spicy deep fried vegetables for 10 rupees. And, just like shopping should be, it's a refreshingly simple transaction that doesn't involve any unnecessary discussion of your travel plans or mention of a close relative's carpet business. Incidentally, most things in shops are pretty cheap, it's services that seem to be expensive - musch more so than, say, Thailand.

Have moved out of the houseboat to avoid the owners, as I'm fed up with them trying to sell me things I don't want, and the food was getting samey. Also, having a house-servant was too weird. Am now in a hotel, which is cheaper and doesn't creak all night. Bonus: there is no ferryman trying to sell me a trip round the lake every time I go outside the front door.

Have been trying to make arrangements to move on, by getting a flight to Leh. It's only 400 km, but the bus takes 2 days and I can't seem to summon any enthusiasm for that! Unfortunately, the web-based airlines in India don't seem to want to take my money. The t'interweb isn't as big here as in SE asia, and everything takes ages.

Some Injuns speak with one of these. After 3 days I'm beginning to be able to spot the scammers. They always ask 'First time in India?' and if you say yes, they proceed with a merciless, headspinning onslaught of deception, fakery and duplicity in an effort to part you from as much money as they can reasonably think of. Complete rascals. Estate agents are angels in comparison, though I did once have a similar feeling of outright loathing for an Everest double glazing salesman.

It's enough to spoil your mood if you're not on top form. This is a shame, as there are just as many nice people (even some of the taxi drivers), but the problem is that you tend to get worn down by the hassles and become wary of everybody.

Today been up in the hills at Gulmarg, allegedly the world's highest ski resort. Had a stroll up to 3200m, about the level of the lowest snow patches, and felt the thin air. Massive pine trees and poplars dotted about everywhere, amid grassy pastures just like the Alps. Lovely.

Plans a bit sketchy, but hoping to arrange a short trek here then get myself over the hills to Leh, where I hope for some reprieve among them mellow buddhist types.

Srinagar, Kashmir, India, Tuesday afternoon. Arrived in Delhi (after changing in Paris) last night. Delhi is the main point of arrival in Northern India, and despite having no redeeming features, is a major tourist centre. Most people are desperate to leave as soon as possible, and business is brisk down at the travel agent's.

After a fairly uncomfortable midnight taxi scam and an overnight stay in someone's back room, I joined the stampede to leave, and jumped on a flight to Srinagar up in Kashmir. I feel very environmentally unsound as a result, but a mental resolution to offset my carbon footprint (at some point in the near future) quickly absolved me from any guilty feelings. A bit like confession in church, I imagine. Sadly, I can't see India undertaking to do the same, and one newspaper article I read today totally dismissed green emisions targets as beng 'of course, completely incompatible with India's economic growth' and that's that. Incidentally, Salman Rushdie and Silpa Shetty are vying for today's star coverage in all the papers. Did you know that the Times of India is the world's biggest English daily?

It's very beautiful here in Srinagar, and the depressing grime and clamour of Delhi is already a fading memory. Dal lake is is stunning, with a backdrop of forested hills a bit like lower parts of the Alps but with water lillies, unfamiliar birds wheeling around, and houseboats for rent. I have a boat to myself (so far), with a resident cook, great views of the hills, and cold Kingfisher in the fridge. What more could you want?

There are uniformed soldiers everywhere, but no sign of trouble. Apparently, tourism and trekking have been picking up in the last 2-3 years. Most folk here are Muslim, and are surprisingly moderate live-and-let-live types, fed up with people wanting to take over Kashmir, The majority seem not to want independence, rather to get on with being a part of India. Pakistan is very unpopular, at least with the bloke who runs my houseboat. He abhors violence and castigates the US for selling guns to every home in Pakistan, but supports Bush and Blair's intervention in Iraq and the removal of evil Saddam. How's that for a rounded worldview.

Plan for the evening: to try an obscure local delicacy, a mysterious oriental dish known to locals as 'lamb rogan josh'...

Houseboats on Dal Lake, Srinagar