The best thing about fishing, as far as I’m concerned, is that it can take you to the most spectacular places on this planet. Take, for instance, yesterday’s fishing spot: the Aharbal Hill Station in the Pir Panjal mountains in the Inner Himalayas in Kashmir, India.

Yep.

And this was our first fishing spot:

It looked like the Himalayan Fortress of Solitude.

Then we went downstream to this:

Our third fishing spot took us here:

It was stunning.

But after oohing and aahing and taking ten billion photographs, there was still that long stretch of time of doing absolutely nothing.

And I’ve never been a virtuous person so patience has never been a trait. If there’s one thing that I hate, it’s waiting. For anyone. Or anything. I’m a firm believer in instant gratification.

Which is why I’m glad I asked our host at The Oasis Srinagar to allow his 12-year old son to come along with us. Then I had someone my mental age to play with.

First, we stopped at a store and loaded up on cookies and candies. Then we walked as far as the river would allow us in both directions. We clambered on top of boulders, and looked for rocks with interesting colors and markings. Then we threw stones into the river for quite some time. (I am proud to say that I now no longer throw like a girl.)

When we got tired, we lay on the rocks and watched the eagles glide above us and talked about the vultures we had seen eating a dead cow.

Meet Nayim, my new playmate, who is half Kashmiri, half Ozzie.

When we soaked our shoes in the sludge, we got the keys to car and hung out and listened to music till our socks dried. And then we went back to doing nothing. He chased butterflies, while I played Spider Solitaire on my phone.

And, even after all that, there was still that long endless void of ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.

But, even if there was something, and there was nothing, the thing about these exotic places is that, quite often, they’re really hard to get to. You always have to get up at some godforsaken hour, and there’s always some trekking or hiking involved, isn’t there?

I can’t even feel my legs now.

And then it’s either you’re freezing cold or you’re blistering in the sun. Whatever it is, you’re never truly comfortable. It’s the whole nasty business of being in a place with no temperature control.

So, nope, still not loving the fishing experience. Or rather, the fisherman’s groupie experience. While yesterday’s scenery was truly spectacular, I’m passing on tomorrow’s outdoor activities and will wander about the city.