I am writing this blog 2 months post travel to Northeeastern part of Himachal
Pradesh- Spiti Valley - for 2 reasons 1.one feels good about An adventure after
the rigours are over 2.some bad parts of the trip fade over and the good parts
get glossier in our heads with time This circuit is along the neck of India,
almost kissing China was envisioned,planned and executed completely by Amol. I
was so ignorant that I did not even know that, this was a road trip. Importantly
that Amol would drive us all the way in the Himalayas. So instead of the dreamy
kissing the neck, it was a trip that goes for your jugulars- definitely not for
the faint hearted Chandigarh- We landed and dived right into Pal Dhaba's
original butter chicken. Highly recommended by all (even Indigo inflight
magazine recommends it) and in my opinion definitely avoidable. Delhi belly just
moved north and gastronomically, all blasted southwards. But not to be miffed we
seasoned travellers hurtled up the Shivaliks to Shimla in a temporary registered
Thar.(We found many more such temp reg vehicle in the hills,apparently to save
on taxes during interstate transit).
The Thar was so new that even the plastic
sheets were not taken off the seats, which just added to the discomfort of the
growling bowels. Also the self drive car hire owner came across as this usual
sweet Punjabi uncle and hence earned inversely proprtional distrust and
suspicion from me. My dictum in life: If anything is too good to be true, then
probably it is. Our first night stay was just outside Shimla, a bit off the
road.A good host, clean rooms, breathtaking views, home cooked meals. The temple
bells rang in the misty hills, the source apparently a short hike to a Hanuman
Mandir and my first of many Marriage advice from my son. While I floated like a
leaf carried by the wind, up the hill , Amol huffed - puffed and when he could
do no more , we started to argue. Adi was like ,"Dad always tries to measure up
to Amma's madness but it is never enough for her aka me." A happy marriage has
to come with low expectations and even lesser efforts. Maybe. We did reach the
temple and a compromise to behave and reign it in. The night view of the lighted
Shimla church and the crowded hill town from afar was the start of spectacular
views of this trip. Whoever said Shimla is ravaged by rampant tourism has to see
this. Amol couldnot sleep well that night but I attributed it to the butterflies
related to Pal Dhaba and the journey ahead. And I took a teen's marriage advice
too seriously. Lesser the effort and concern for the spouse happier the
martiage. I slept well unconcerned by the propped up heaving big man next to me.
The dawn brought us our four wheel drive. A big butch car, with 2 and a half
working seatbelts, a friendly but crazy hill driver.He had to share the car till
the end of the day. Also we got introduced to other vehicles and fellow drivers
in our convoy. They were young, unkempt, aggressive in words,actions and
driving. I instantly named them "Thar guys"(7 men indistinguishably in form and
unkemptness) "Guj gang"-(a troublesome car that they dragged from Delhi to save
some pennies, a chiseled macho vain man and 3 minions.By Arjun Reddy logic -
good looking people surround themselves with definitely less than good looking
people to look even better. Anyways these minions took pics of the vain guy from
all angles. So they had a 100 photos of each pose. Good thing was that I could
borrow them to get good pics of our 2/3rds photo averse family. Our ride was
middle aged in car and character.We skipped the Shimla traffic and saw the
landscape change from conifer trees to small bushes and meadows.
The rocky
overhangs and the natrow roads made their apperance from Day 1. BRO -Border road
organisation does a commendable job of making and maintaining the mountain roads
.The apple plantations were so many that the whole world could feed on a apple
diet and there will be some to spare. We reached Raksham village named after a
stone bridge by nightfall but in time to witness a local wedding and all the
Himachali folks in their finery. I read later that Kinnaur district has the age
old tradition of polyandry and adelific form aka common wife of brothers- ring a
bell- Draupadi. These parts has housed the Pandava brothers and Co. during their
exile and trace this custom to them. We had a changeover of guides and this time
was Mr Sunil, a man of few words and nerves of steel.When things got bad he would remark,"Spiti kiya jaisa lagna chahiye"
Chitkul -the last village
on the Indian side of the Indo-China border. A glamping site, bonfire, and
biting cold air. Daru and sutta went around but not without me being judgy. I
named them the sutta gang and the name stuck till ..... In the luxe camp we 3
cuddled and lulled to a oxytocin rich sleep. Amol was propped up and worried.And
he decided to wake me up this time. His oxygen sats had dropped to 65% and he
was finding it difficult to breathe. In my sleep I asked him to do recruitment
exercises and take an acetazolamide. He slept well after this and I slept non
plussed just as adviced by my teen son.A teen who has to be reminded to catch a
flight in time but will dole out marriage advice. The problem is not him. It is
that we after 20 years of experience, still need marriage advice. I got up
early, bright eyed , bushy tailed and went for a solo walk towards the village.
A gurgling Baspa river on one side, sun rising over snow peaked mountains,
colourful birds, green meadows, wild rose bushes. Pity these sights are 4000kms
away. 2 kms later I was joined by a local, friendly enough to scare me back to
the camp. A Hot water bath, yummy parathas, social media aware camp boys (who
make gram worthy bytes from all tourists) later we left this abode. Amol took
charge of the wheel, foung some brake pad niggles,Sunil giving some useful
insights,and after some mandatory sign post pics we hurtled on the mountain
roads. We fixed the brake pads in a garage that overlooked a hanging
bridge,under a walnut tree , overhung by hydrangea blooms. Btw snow peaked
mountains are a given in this road trip. The most picturesque garage in the
whole world . Garage "muy bonito".
Khab sangam bridge- This is where Spiti river joins the Mansarovar lake
originating Sutlej river. Besides being a good photo point, a small underbridge
eatery also whipped up some local dishes for us. Adi had a mountain rule- we
have to try Maggi at every eat stop. So Maggi, local sweet n spicy dumplings
were washed down with the tastiest apricots(khubbani in the local lingo) and
dried apples sold by pretty sunkissed wrinkled vendors and we had left Kinnaur
district and sped along spiti.
Lots of hydroelectricity plants and their creative warning sogns kept us company
on this stretch.
Nako village-Right on the neck of the Indian map has a lake that freezes in
winter and hosts ice skating. The village was quaint and the air was infused
with dung smells. Villagers keep their cattle in the basement and live in the
floor above them. The biogas keeps their hearth warm.
Spiti river( a tributary
of Sutlej) accompanied us throughout this road trip. I would describe this river
as "fuming with bad blood". Let me explain. The river is turbulent and churning
grey with the black mountain silt. If a crocodile strayed here by chance he
would be blinded by the silt and end up with a ton of mud in his mouth remarked
our teen during our "what ifs" conversations in this long long ride. This river
has inspired spiritual quests for over a 1000 years. Tabo, Kaza, Dhankar
monastrieries are testimony to this.
I wanted to run after a donkey that had strayed from his folks and Amol kindly
obliged. I scared the poor beast away. Excess of
adrenaline,dopamine,oxytocin,serotonin in the lack of oxygen makes one go
cuckoo. Though this drive was supposed to be in a convoy with 3 other vehicles
and Sunil in a trailer, it was hardly so. The partial pressure of oxygen in
these parts is low but as the air got thinner the "sutta gang" hiked up their
fags.Also they wanted to hurtle down the treacherous slopes at speeds that our
family car refused to keep up. We were given walkies that did not work and whats
app group updates were patchy. It was fun in a way because it was just us and
the endless mountain roads. Sunil suggested we take a detour to see a mummy in
Gue village. Apparently an i phone can catch Chinese phone network here.The
drive was at the end of the day, we were tired and Spiti was a dangerous black
along the darkening day and the roads were no longer under BRO jurisdiction.
This means rubbles are the road. At the end of this lay a tourist trap. An
excuse of a monastery, mummy validated by "Oxford university" of California
The night at Tabo monastry was the most urban of all our stays. Buffet style
dinner and chicken(welcome in any form) had us tummy happy. Amol sats had gotten
better. Now we played this "who has the best oxygen sats" and I always won. Adi
not to accept defeat stung at me that I was sucking out all their oxygen. The
mountains have light till late and early sunrises. The monastery is the oldest
operational Bhuddist Monastery with student monks. Early morning prayers in a
dark sanctum set to rhythm with Bhuddhist chants, the fading Thanka paintings on
scrolls and wooden columns , cute round red faced kids, extra furry but severely
matted mountain dogs..I even wanted to bring one pup back home and Amol humoured
me with pet adoption queries. Sunil shot them down instantly citing inhospitable
coastal climates for these fur balls would be a death knell...mind marvelled
while my body grovelled.
Dhankar Ghompa- Dhan means cliff and Kar means fort. A
fort literally hanging off a cliff( so was everything else on this trip) housed
a white Bhuddhist monastery.We had a lunch break here and drove up and some more
up to reach Kaza. In Kaza everything was world's highest - petrol
pump,restaurant, post office,motorable roads. If one sneezed here then you have
achieved the distinction of having sneezed at the highest human inhabitation.
The mountain roads are so narrow that when one has to give way to an oncoming
vehicle, which is often,one of vehicles has to have 2 of its wheels off the
ledge dangling dangerously. A complicated moving forward and reversing retinue
(akin to the mating rituals of birds and bees) was performed each time to give
way.
Also We spotted some mountain Ibis and witnessed their nimble yet sure
footed jumps cross the cliffs.
Our homestay at Kaza was the warmest of all our
stays. Our host made us some local delicacies.The pahadi food is spicy and rich
and unique.
Hikkim , Komic and Lanza were in a circuit around Kaza.Beauty beyond words. We
posted postcards to F&F from the world's highest PO One of the sutta gang cars
in the convoy met with an accident and they had to cough up a lakh and waste a
lot of time at the local police station(world's highest mind you) With slightly
dampened spirits we drove away from Kaza.
Kye Monastery - The biggest , over 3 floors, and a training centre belonging to
the Gelugpa sect. Picturesque and peaceful. We met a lot of senior citizens from
Ladakh on a pilgrimage here and greeted all with joyous "Julle"
Chicham bridge-The bridge is at a staggering height of 13596 ft and connects the
two villages named Chicham and Kibber. A 1000 ft deep gorge and hot Maggi
upstairs set the mood for some romantic captures on Asia's highest bridge.The
gorge below is known by the name of Samba Lamba Nallah; the making of this
bridge cuts down the journey from Kibber to Losar by 40 km.
Losar-Amol got a pic
at the milestone of this village for the antihypertensive losartan that goes by
the tradename Losar and the nephrologist that he is.
We saw a mountain stream
hydroelectric powered contraption to continiously rotate the Bhuddhist prayer
drum at a monastery here.Supplies and roads are open only for 3 months a
year(July,Aug,Sept). A sparse population of a couple of hundreds,one can hear
the sound of silence . The preicipotous black ravines echoes sounds 3 times
apparently and each rock to a speck of dust in this cold desert is unique. Maggi
in the mountains as we ascended in altitude just got magical.
We had to go
through Kumzum pass to reach the final destination Chandrataal lake.Our convoy
was more scattered than ever. The Guj gang car needed resuscitaion and Sunil was
torn between his car kids. He stuck to the sick car and let the healthy 2 drive
on.Sutta gang unperturbed by the accodent or just false bravado just sped. And
we were boldened by an uneventful 1000kms of mountain roads at half Everest
altitudes. There was some precipitation along the way. Kumzum pass passed by in
ethereal driving bliss set to pace with intimate family conversations over
lovely snacks and even better snow pics.
The views and photos just on this
stretch made this entire trip surreal. We had to make way for some HRTC buses .
My heart was filled with pride and awe for these divine modern day Garudas and
Airavats. Some tempo travellers too went past us. With precipitation roads got
muddier and GPS signal weaker. We finally were on the road to Chandrataal
guessing by the mules and tents on the way.We caught up with Sutta gang during
their sutta break and they said that our camp was just ahead. And just ahead our
car skid. Amol also lost his bearings. We realised that I was of little help in
this slush-mud-rain-car crisis.I tried to move a big stone to create an
alterante path for our car. A shepherd helped me and I swear I had a glimpse of
tha "Good Shepherd " that day in the mountains. 15 minutes of helplessness (felt
like an eternity ) and finally Amol gathered his wits about him and the car got
past with one last hurrah and we finally reached our camp site soaked in rain
and anxiety but safe and sound. Sutta gang welcomed us warmly and during small
talk Amol discovered they were IITians. Amol's heart sank to his knees. Being
parents to an IITian we foresaw our son's future in them. And it was not an
encouraging one..... While we warmed ourselves in the campfire we met friendly
Americans and a father son duo on bikes. We shared stories of the treacherous
routes and felt less bad with each one of our experiences.I had even started to
give Amol some gyaan about reading theory of mountain driving before he exposed
all of us to this perilous journey. Sunil came with the Guj gang much later and
much harassed. So I didnot launch an attack on him for abandoning us but made
myself clear that we will stick to the convoy in every sense of the word and
road from now on.
We all went in a convoy to Chandrataal , a moon shaped mountain lake with clear
emarald waters , got over a 100 photos, and returned safely back to the camp.
The drive down to Manali was probably the most rugged, took a toll on my lower
back,we yearned for the coast and curd rice, but we did drive in a convoy. Sunil
signed off and we all bid adieu to our fellow car mates and the hills and parted
ways. And we kissed the mountain air goodbye one last time and thanked Hidimba
for the safe sojourn. Our experience of the mountains may be unique to our
family but the magic is universal. Mountains are magestic and its moods are
whimsical and I am in awe of the first and humbled by the later. So long.
No comments:
Post a Comment