The tourism of Kashmir is at its peak. The picturesque scenery of Gulmarg, Pahalgam and Sonamarg are abuzz once again. Dal Lake mirrors not just the mountains but also the indication of a reviving industry. There are bookings in hotels, local markets are booming, and seasonal employees are heading home with money in their pockets. After months of silence, the Valley is once again filled with voices, steps and clicks of cameras.
This resurgence, though, has been accompanied by its own suffering. The terror attack in April on a tourist bus in Pahalgam was a poignant reminder that Kashmir peace is fragile. Yet, in response, there was nothing less than astonishing. Locals denounced the attack openly. Tourism promoters made sure there were no interruptions. And perhaps most indicative of all visitors persisted. They did not cancel. They did not withdraw. That unobtrusive courage on both sides of the visitor-host axis spoke volumes.
And now, with the momentum in our favor, let’s take the next step and that is to throw open the gates of Kashmir’s alternative and hobby tourism sites.
For many decades, the majority of Kashmir tourism has taken place around a select group of famous places. But beyond the slopes of Gulmarg and the pine groves of Pahalgam lies a broader, richer, more varied Kashmir. Valleys such as Bangus, Lolab, Karnah, Daksum, Warwan, Dodhpathri, and Gurez are gems in the crown still undisclosed, still unseen. These areas contain pristine landscapes, endangered wildlife, historic trails, and inhabitants who have coexisted with nature for generations.
And still, most of these sites remain closed or out of bounds for common tourists. Bangus, for example, is among the most stunning meadows in North Kashmir. But it is under tight restrictions, with no normal access, poor road connectivity, and nil promotion. Daksum, which was once a favorite destination for trout fishing and forest trekking, has not witnessed any considerable tourism activity in years. Warwan, for all its Alpine beauty, is off the map. Even Gurez which experienced some renewed vitality in recent years is still heavily seasonal and underutilised.
This has to alter. If tourism is to be sustainable, inclusive and long-term, then it cannot remain confined to four or five places. It is now time to revive and reopen these lost places not through blind development, but through thoughtful, community-led planning.
These “hobby” destinations are ideal for low-impact, high-value tourism photography, trekking, angling, birdwatching, cultural immersion. Unlike mass tourism, these attract visitors who stay longer, spend more, and are generally respectful of local cultures and ecology. Importantly, these are also the types of tourism that can run beyond just the summer or winter rush keeping the local economy moving year-round.
In order to resurrect these zones, three conditions are necessary:
First, infrastructure but minimal and intelligent. Roads need to be upgraded for connectivity, but not expanded into highways. Public amenities such as toilets, drinking water, and internet connectivity need to be developed in an ecologically sensitive manner. What these zones require is not hotels, but homestays local, small, and community-based.
Second, clarity in policy. Operators and visitors need to have clarity on what is permitted, where and when. If Bangus is only open for daytime visits, clearly say it. If permits are required for Gurez or Karnah, then they should be digital, transparent and inconvenience-free. Currently, uncertainty keeps visitors away not distance.
Third, empower local communities. Let the locals enjoy it first. Train and assist them to manage guesthouses, provide guiding services, arrange treks, and sell local handicrafts and produce. Local people are the best custodians of this sector when they benefit from tourism and it becomes a source of pride.
Security, of course cannot be dismissed altogether. Some places may still require restrictions, but for valid reasons at that. But a blanket approach no longer serves the people or the region. With GPS-based monitoring, coordination with the communities and phased opening, several of these places can and should be opened-up with controlled visitor caps, weekend permits, or seasonal passes to start with.
The government has to mirror the same enthusiasm in making offbeat places that it displays for celebrating festivals and attracting celebrity appearances. One high-quality video of Lolab, or one digital campaign on Daksum’s pine trails, could attract thousands of amateur tourists. And these are not tourists looking for golf courses or five-star spas. They look for silence, security, and authenticity all available in plenty in Kashmir.
Let us also remember what is at risk. Pahalgam and Gulmarg overcrowding is already beginning to creak trash, traffic, weakened trails. Diversification is not only a question of equity to far-flung regions it is a requirement for sustainability.
Tourism is not just economic. It is a chance for healing, for narrative, for connection. Each time a traveler has a cup of nun chai in a Karnah kitchen, or snaps a photo of a heron in the Lolab wetlands, they are taking with them a new story of Kashmir one of peace, of harmony, of subtle beauty.
In conclusion, while Kashmir’s tourism numbers rise, we must rise to the moment too. Let this not be just a return to business but a movement toward balance. The meadows of Bangus, the forests of Daksum, the silence of Warwan they deserve to be seen, to be experienced, and above all, to be protected.
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