Summer in Paradise: My Kashmir Vacation Memories
Last summer I packed my bags, said goodbye to the noisy city, and headed for a place I had only seen in postcards – Kashmir. The moment the car left the highway and the hills rose up on both sides, my heart began to race. I knew I was about to step into a world of green valleys, sparkling rivers, and a sky that seemed to stretch forever.
The first stop was Srinagar, the “Lake City.” We stayed in a traditional houseboat that floated gently on Dal Lake. Waking up to the soft sound of water lapping against the wooden planks was pure magic.
The houseboat’s roof was covered with a bright red‑white striped canopy, and from there we could see the hills reflected perfectly in the lake’s calm surface. Each morning we enjoyed fresh, steaming chai while watching fishermen glide across the water in their little wooden shikaras, casting nets with graceful ease.
One afternoon we took a shikara ride to the famous floating gardens. The garden beds were tied together with bamboo, and bright marigold flowers peeked through the water. The scent of jasmine and the cool breeze made me feel like I was inside a painting. The locals whispered stories of ancient kings and poets who once walked these same paths, and I felt a deep connection to that history.
Leaving the lake behind, we drove north to the breathtaking valleys of Pahalgam. The road snaked through pine forests, and the air smelled of pine needles and wildflowers. We hiked along the Lidder River, its clear water rushing over smooth stones.
I remember slipping on a smooth rock, laughing as the cold water splashed my shoes. The surrounding mountains rose like giant guardians, their snow‑capped peaks glistening under the sun. We stopped at a meadow where shepherds tended their goats; their woolly coats looked like tiny clouds against the green grass.
Our final adventure took us to Gulmarg, a place famous for its snow‑capped slopes. In summer, the snow had melted, leaving a lush, emerald carpet perfect for trekking. We rode a gondola to the top of the mountain, and from there the world unfolded beneath us – a patchwork of valleys, rivers, and tiny villages. At the very peak, we stood on a wind‑swept ridge, feeling the cool air brush our faces. It was hard to believe we were standing so high above the earth.
Every evening, after a day of exploring, we would sit on a terrace, sip tea sweetened with honey, and watch the sunset paint the sky in shades of orange, pink, and purple. The mountains turned silhouettes, and fireflies began to dance around us. Those quiet moments are the ones I cherish most – the simple pleasure of being present in a place so beautiful that words feel insufficient.
Returning home, I brought back more than just photographs. I carried the scent of pine, the sound of the lake’s gentle waves, and the feeling of endless horizons.
Summer in Kashmir reminded me that the world still holds pockets of untouched wonder, waiting for us to discover them. If you ever get a chance, pack a bag, follow the mountains, and let Kashmir’s memories become your own.