I stood there and stared at it, there it was, just as I had visualized. It looked brilliantly gorgeous in the subdued evening light. “Love is the bridge between you and everything”, I muttered. Rumi has indeed captured my imagination and seems to have followed me even to this remote village in Meghalaya. The tantalizing double root bridge seemed like an entwined poetry between the two trees that flanked the Umshiang River silently flowing through the rounded stones that lie below. It was winter, and the reduced water level in the river made it look more like a stream.
It was my first time at Nongriat village after braving 3600 steps and it was all worth it. The natural bridge floored me with its splendid elegance and grace. I couldn’t stop marveling at the ingenious organic engineering of the local tribal people. There are several root bridges in Meghalaya that are hand-crafted, using natural resources by the Khasi and the Jaintia tribes of Meghalaya (Khasis, Jaintias, Garos are the three tribes that constitute the native people of Meghalaya.).
These root bridges are made by guiding the aerial roots of Rubber tree (Ficus elastica) across a stream or river, and then allowing the roots to grow and strengthen over time. The young roots are tied, twisted, and weaved together encouraging them to combine with one another. The roots are wound around areca nut tree trunks, placed on either side of the water body. The roots keep growing, entwining the trunk and the bridge is elongated to the desired destination taking about 10-15 years to completion. The roots thicken over time and the bridge is further strengthened with mud, stones, sticks, and bamboos. These bridges last for hundreds of years and can carry the weight of 500 people at one time.
A UNESCO World Heritage Site, the double root bridge is nearly 200 years old. Locally known as Jingkieng Nongriat, the bridgeis one of a kind and famous across the world. As a non-tribal resident of the state of Meghalaya, I could feel my chest swelling with pride as I stood there trying to fathom this tangled masterpiece hand-crafted by my tribal brethren.
Soon, I found myself kicking off my walking shoes and settling down with my feet dipped in the cold water and the bridge right in front of me. My sisters joined in. We chatted into the evening accompanied by the occasional fishes that swam across tickling our tired and aching feet. We stayed at Nongriat and hence could enjoy the bridge in the way we wanted to, which would not have happened otherwise.
The reason being, it was the Christmas – New Year time, when the maximum surge of tourists happen leading to the place getting over crowded. To top it all, not all tourists who come here are nature lovers. It may seem strange but it is true. When we reached this place in the late afternoon that day, we were shocked to find people all over the place. There were some who were bathing in the river and shouting their lungs out disturbing the tranquil and serene surroundings. This is not how I had visualized the double root bridge and this is not my idea of enjoying nature. Dismayed, we walked away towards the jungle and came back only in the evening.
Earlier that day, while on our way to Nongriat, we had been to a single root bridge. It had a prominent notice displayed stating that only two people are allowed on the bridge at one time. But the crowd of over enthusiastic tourists had no time read that. We pointed out to many but they didn’t care. We waited for a very long time for the crowd to thin down before we embarked upon the bridge. The next day, we crossed two other bridges in the interiors of the village. Each one leaving us spellbound with their spectacular intricacies.
Last year when I was home, we had visited the single root bridge at Mawlynlong. That one is accessible by road and hence remains very crowded. However, the day we visited there was no one. We were really lucky. Mother Nature ensured peace so that we could soak in her comforting ecstasy.
As we explored the city of Shanghai, moving from one place to another, sometimes walking and sometimes in a taxi, what struck me was the remarkably beautiful roadsides and the sparkling cleanliness of the city. Besides, it’s a paradise for flower enthusiasts. There was colour everywhere. Even the road dividers were flower pots having multitudes of seasonal flowers. The dull and dreary rainy day was completely subdued and splashed with cheer and brightness all around.
Yuyuan Garden (Yu Yuan)
Yuyuan Garden provided a glimpse of what life was like in ancient China. Built during the Ming Dynasty, the garden has been destroyed and rebuilt several times over the last few centuries and its latest restoration was completed in 1961. The place was bustling and overflowing with people. We jostled our way through the crowd of locals and tourists, as the aura of the place was transporting us to a different world.
The rock gardens, ponds, bridges, and pavilions stole the show and all the maneuvering through the crowd seemed worth the effort. Climbing onto the zigzag bridge passing through a pond of moss green water with plenty of orange fishes, we walked towards the mid-lake pavilion.
The mid-lake pavilion was a fascinating elegantly designed 200 year old tea house. Being a tea-lover, this constituted the main highlight of Yuyuan Garden for me. If I had the time, I would have surely spent a couple of hours there tasting as many varieties of Chinese tea as I could. There is much more to the garden and I really wish I had more time to cover it all.
City God Temple (Chenghuang Miao)
The City God temple is an ancient Taoist temple located in Old City and very close to Yuyuan Garden. We passed by the temple and saw it from outside.
A cluster of shops randomly scattered through narrow alleys greet you as you step out of Yuyuan Garden. Also known as Yuyuan Bazaar, the shops here sell souvenirs, scarves, t-shirts, etc. One of the lanes offer a variety of street food, many of which looked alien to me. I would have liked to dig deeper into those stalls to know more but once again the luxury of time I did not have. I had to satisfy my curiosity only by ogling at the variety of stuff that was on offer with occasional knowledge inputs from Miss Sunny.
Shanghai Old Street(Shanghai Lao Jie)
We passed by the lanes of Yuyuan Bazaar, crossed a street or two and landed into Shanghai Old Street. It was a busy street lined with curio shops and teahouses. Miss Sunny informed that this was the center of the Old Chinese City and foreigners seldom ventured here during the Concession days. Presently, this place looked vibrant with a lot of activities and exuded a contagious old world charm that cannot be missed. The corridor-like straight road lined with attractive shops on either side was a shopping paradise and can instantaneously change your mood.
The dormant shopaholic me raised its ugly head and overpowered the sane me. The result was I ended up spending all the Chinese Yuan I had carried with me buying stuff from hand creams and face lotions to home decors, gifts and fake antiques. Miss Sunny’s expert advice came in handy in distinguishing the real stuff from the fake ones.
The laments and repents for my abrupt uncalled for action arrived sooner than expected when I was charged additional money for withdrawing cash from an ATM using my credit card.
It was indeed a great way to end my 7-hour Shanghai sightseeing. Miss Sunny dropped a happy and satisfied me back to my hotel. Due to the short time, I had to pick and choose and couldn’t visit all the places or do all the things I wanted to do. Hope to go back some day again.
Here’s a list of things that I would like to do, if I am lucky enough to land up at Shanghai again:
Take a night tour of the city
View the city from Oriental Pearl Tower
Shop at Nanjing Road
Take a ferry ride at the Bund at night
Ride in the site seeing tunnel below the Huangpu River
Ride the Maglev
Visit the water towns
Experience the traditional Chinese way of life at Qibao
[This post is a continuation. If you have missed the first part of this post, it’s here.]
Exploring ‘Paris of the East’ on a Cold and Rainy Day
Clad in a warm coat and a beautiful scarf, Miss Sunny was there right on time. “I think you should put on something warm”, she advised with a look of surprise seeing me ready to leave in a jeans and light sweater. It was an April morning and I was inside the comfort of my hotel with no idea how cold it was outside. Though there was no sun and the weather looked bleak and gloomy. I hadn’t packed proper warm clothes as I wasn’t prepared for it to be this cold. However, I went back to my room, scanned my suitcase and put on two more layers. Layering keeps you warm, and two t-shirts is equivalent to one sweater – one of the many things learnt during my Himalayan treks.
I was in Shanghai for a 3-day work-related visit and was put up at Renaissance Shanghai Caohejing Hotel, which is situated in the business district and a little off from the main city. Miss Sunny was my guide and kind enough to come all the way to escort me to the city. Otherwise, with my zero knowledge of Mandarin, it would have gotten difficult.
My Shanghai trip was close on the heels of a trek to the Himalayas and naturally I wasn’t too happy. I hoped and prayed that it would be moved but that didn’t happen. As I was reluctantly getting my tickets and booking my hotel, the traveler in me suddenly woke up, just in time, to remind that this was an opportunity! How could I miss that! So, I added a day to my itinerary to see what I can of Shanghai. A little bit of research and I found Miss Sunny through Trip Advisor recommendations and contacted her. And, I highly recommend her (firstname.lastname@example.org). Getting around in China can get tricky if you have no knowledge of Mandarin.
As we stepped out of the hotel, I realized just how cold it was! It was raining too and I had to borrow an umbrella from the hotel lobby. I am so not a rain person! Anyway, there was little I could do. So, I made peace and was all set to get a taste of the ‘Paris of the East’ with Miss Sunny by my side.
Jade Buddha Temple
We took a taxi and headed straight to the Jade Buddha temple, which is situated in the heart of the bustling city of Shanghai.
The temple houses Buddha statues in two postures – sitting and reclining. The reclining one represents the Buddha’s death – the peaceful Sakyamuni. It portrays the sedate face of the Buddha and is also known as the ‘lucky repose’. There are two of these sparkling white and crystal-clear statues. The smaller one is the original famous Jade Buddha statue that was cut out of a single Jade and was imported by sea to Shanghai by Buddhist monks from Burma during the 1800s. The larger one is made of marble and was donated by Singapore. Miss Sunny mentioned that many people mistakenly think the larger one to be the Jade Buddha.
The original reclining Jade Buddha is kept inside a glass casing
The marble reclining Buddha, often mistaken as the Jade Buddha
The temple is large. We walked around its three halls and two courtyards as Miss Sunny kept enlightening me with small nuggets of information every now and then. An interesting thing that I learnt here was the feminine form of Buddha – the Mother of Liberation, known as Quan Yin in China and Tara in Tibet. She is the Goddess of Compassion, a symbol of purity of heart and spirit. The female Buddha was new to me, I hadn’t known this before.
The Golden Buddha
The Feminine Buddha
People’s Square (Renmin Guang Chang)
People’s Square is the main public square of the city with the main attractions being the Shanghai Museum, Shanghai Grand Theater, and the People’s Park. People’s Square also has several tall buildings, fountains, and other structures. This place used to be a horse racing track before the Communist Revolution. Not much of a museum person, I decided to explore People’s Park instead.
The park was beautiful with flowers blooming all over. The unexpected splash of colours was enough to light up the dull and dreary day. As we strolled on admiring the colours, a flurry of activities diverted my attention nearby, where a group of men and women had gathered around colourful umbrellas laid out sporadically. On a closer look, I noticed all the umbrellas had some kind of laminated paper pasted on the outer side.
And I learnt a fascinating story. This was Shanghai marriage market where parents flock every weekend to find a match for their children. The laminated sheets contain details of bride or groom. Parents stick that on the outer side of an open umbrella and sit beside it all day for other parents to come by and if they think it’s a match they get their children connected. Reminded me of our online matrimony sites, though that’s virtual but same concept. The Marriage Market was unique and made my visit to People’s Square a memorable one.
The Bund (Wai Tan)
The Bund is the waterfront area and has been the symbol of Shanghai for hundreds of years. It is located in central Shanghai on the banks of Huangpu River. Once again a splash of colours greeted us – the wall of flowers of various hues at the entrance. Infused with instant delight and happiness, I just kept gawking in awe.
We were at the western bank of Huangpu, known as the Puxi side. We walked on the pedestrian promenade on this side admiring the skyscrapers across the river, on the other side, and watched big ships pass by toting the world’s goods. The other side of Huangpu, where all the skyscrapers stood, is known as the Pudong side.
The Puxi side is characterized by 26 buildings of different architectural styles – Gothic, Baroque, Romanesque, Classicism and the Renaissance. The river was like a connecting link for the old and the new. Having seen this place in so many movies, walking on it felt quite surreal. The weather was playing spoilsport and had marred the view to a great extent.
Miss Sunny informed that there is a sightseeing tunnel of about 650 m. that runs under the river from the Bund in Puxi, to the Oriental Pearl TV Tower in Pudong. It is supposedly an interesting experience by a speed train through the tunnel with colorful radiating lights. However, we had other places to visit and couldn’t go to Pudong just yet. My hotel was also in Pudong side. Miss Sunny also talked about the fantastic night view with the colorful lights floating on the river and the flashing lights from the far side of the river. One can also take a ferry ride and view the city from the river. I missed night views altogether as I had to reach office early the next morning and I couldn’t afford to compromise with my call of duty in anyway.
Former French Concession (Tianzifang)
The Former French Concession has a very European feel with its gorgeous tree-lined avenues and villa-style buildings. True to its name, the French once ruled this part of the city and many of Shanghai’s expat population live in this area. “After the Opium Wars, the French, the British, and the Americans were administering certain pockets of Shanghai”, explained Miss Sunny.
Walking with the colourful umbrella along the tree-lined streets made me happy
The fountain is a distinguishing feature of this place
The area is marked by the presence of hip cafes and restaurants, concept bars, breweries, boutiques, art galleries and antique stores. We decided to have lunch here. I have forgotten the name of the place where we had lunch. Not just that, I can’t recall the names of any of the food items we had there other than Wulong Tea. And being the non-foodie that I am, I didn’t click any pictures of the exotic food! And, that’s making me feel awful right now! Miss Sunny had taken the trouble to explain each dish in great detail.
However, indulging in interesting conversations at the lunch table with Miss Sunny about life in general and the similarities and differences therewith in our respective countries was far more interesting to me than food at that moment.
Very pretty neighborhood of the French Concession
What’s China without some Chinese tea?
I was loving every bit of my tour so far. The rainy day and the cumbersome umbrella was a botheration but I couldn’t care less. The city of Shanghai was incredible and everything amazed and fascinated me. After lunch it was time to go visit some parts of the old city.
A stifling sense of uneasiness crept in the moment I stepped into my room. I felt claustrophobic and was finding it difficult to breathe. Was it because the room was small? I don’t think so as I have stayed in smaller rooms before. Shouldn’t I be feeling really good to be in a room with a comfortable bed after having traveled for 24 hours through three flight between Bangalore and San Diego? Perhaps my mind was playing tricks on me. Maybe a shower is what I need. I had an hour’s time before I met my colleagues at the hotel lobby as we had planned to go out for dinner.
Deciding to shower later before hitting the bed, I thought I would freshen up instead. I went to the bathroom and splashed my face with cold water, and thoroughly cleaned it using a lavish amount of facewash. I applied my face cream and changed into a set of fresh clothes. I thought I felt better. I still had time so I decided to unpack some of the things, at least the clothes I would wear for the night once am back from dinner. I bent over to my suitcase, which was lying on the floor and cast a sideward glance onto the bed.
The discomfort was back and this time I had this uncanny feeling of someone staring at me from the bed.
I gave up the idea of unpacking. Instead sat down on a chair and started fiddling with my phone. Opening the Whatsapp app, I sent a message to my sister informing her that I had reached. I also jokingly wrote to her, “I think this room is haunted. You know I feel someone’s lying on the bed staring at me. I am feeling eerie in here.” My sister responded with a laughter and asked me to change the room.
I was at San Diego for work along with a couple of colleagues. We were staying at the iconic US Grant Hotel, located in downtown San Diego, California. The 11-storied hotel was grand and spectacular with 270 guest rooms.
It is a historic hotel, even listed in the National Register of Historic Places.
The hotel was opened in 1910 and belonged to Ulysses S. Grant Jr., the son of President Ulysses S. Grant, who dedicated the hotel to his father. At that time, it was a 437 roomed luxury palace with private baths, swimming pools, sprawling dining halls, and lavish ballrooms. Actually the hotel dates back to 1870 when it was known as Horton House and was the only major hotel in San Diego. It was purchased by Fanny Chaffee Grant, the wife of Ulysses S. Grant Jr. The hotel boasts of hosting people like John F. Kennedy, Stephen Spielberg, and even Albert Einstein.
I wasn’t aware of any of the historic detail until then. It was only later after I was back that I read up to learn more about it.
When I met my colleagues in the lobby, I casually mentioned that the grand hotel is not so grand afterall and the rooms seem suffocating. They didn’t seem to agree. So I visited their rooms, which were better and lacked the eeriness of my room. I requested the reception if my room could be changed. They readily agreed and after dinner I was transported to another room. The new room felt so much better though a slight discomfort remained but that was negligible as compared to the previous room. I chose to ignore that and went to bed and slept peacefully.
I have traveled multiple times to several cities in the world, lived in hotels and guest houses all by myself. I have never felt this way in any other place.
It was only two days later when I was at a dinner table with my American colleagues that someone started talking about this hotel being haunted and others chimed in with all kinds of stories. I was flabbergasted and jumped in to narrate my own experience. I don’t know if ghosts exist as I haven’t seen one, neither do I wish to, but I thanked my instincts that led me to change the room the day I arrived.
That night I couldn’t sleep even though I was in this new room. When I told all of this to my Bangalore colleagues the next day, nobody was surprised. Apparently, they had read this in the Internet and knew about it. How are they so cool about it, I wondered! I usually never read up to know about the hotels when it’s arranged by office as they are mostly 5-star hotels, so why bother. I thanked myself once again. This time for not reading anything beforehand. Then, I would have come in with preconceived ideas and whatever I felt in that room I would have attributed to that.
That’s a colleague at the lobby
An artifact at the lobby
The story goes that the hotel was Fanny Grant’s pet project and she had put in a lot of effort and personal time in designing the hotel to make it one of the best. Within a year of opening of the hotel, she passed away. Her husband, Grant, Jr. remarried and moved into the hotel along with his new wife. Since then Fannie’s apparition, clad in an old-fashioned white dress, has been seen walking through the hallways. Other strange phenomena such as flickering lights and things being moved and misplaced within the blink of an eye keep happening.
The Internet is abound with these and several other stories associated with the hotel. Apparently, it’s the 5th floor that is haunted. All of which I thankfully discovered only after getting back to Bangalore.
I have never experienced anything paranormal and even this was just a brush. Surely doesn’t qualify as a paranormal experience. However, I cannot say for sure that such things don’t exist. There are tonnes of strange things that are beyond any explanations. And I do not hesitate to say that I am afraid of the unknown. I do believe in the existence of souls and in the concept of rebirth. And, I definitely believe that all souls are not associated with negative energy.
It was dark in the room as I lay cozily tucked inside warm cotton quilts and blankets replaying the day’s events while my sister was fast asleep right beside me. It always takes me a while to fall asleep and this wasn’t unusual but today I wasn’t bothered as all I could see was the rugged roads and the radiant mountains. I smiled my way to sleep and couldn’t wait to be up the next morning.
The cold desert of Spiti Valley, with its austere barren mountains, deep gorges, emerald green river, ancient monasteries, gorgeous villages, and unique culture has given me a lifetime of memories and experiences. Here’s an attempt to capture the essence of Spiti through a brief outline of the places we visited.
Kaza – A Tiny Little Commercial Hub
Kaza brings memories of walking through narrow lanes of the busy little market area that sits right at its center. Surrounded by jagged mountains, and situated at an altitude of 3,800 m. above sea level, Kaza is the capital of Lahaul and Spiti district. It is like a central place which connects all other places in the valley. On one side of the market area is a series of Chortens or Stupas that face the 14th century Tangyud Gompa. Just besides the Chortens is the only petrol bunk in the valley, which also happens to be the world’s highest retail outlet. The only ATM in the valley belonging to State Bank of India is also located in Kaza.
View of Kaza from the mountain top
Solitude at Rangrik
While Kaza was bustling with activities, Rangrik’s solitude appealed to the nature-lovers in us. Situated at an altitude of 3699 m. from sea level, the quiet and sleepy village is marked by the large golden Buddha statue and prominent prayers written on the mountains. The village has a couple of good schools that attract students from all across Spiti. Our hotel, Spiti Sarai, was located a few meters away from the village homes just across Spiti river with sprawling open spaces. Initially we were disappointed about being 5 Km away from Kaza, but it turned out to be just as we would have wanted. We did things that we love to do, which wouldn’t have happened had we stayed at Kaza.
Walked in the open fields while watching the sun set behind the mountains; climbed up the long flight of stairs painted in white across the road to take a look at the Chorten up in the mountain but discovered a temple instead; clambered up the mountain looking for the cave with a magnetic rock that the hotel bell boy had talked about but took a wrong turn and ended up on a cliff overlooking the river on one side and the cave on the other and had to be satisfied with only a view of the cave from a distance. Most importantly, we spent a considerable time lazing on the banks of Spiti River.
Road from Rangrik to Kaza with Spiti River in the valley
Lazing around Spiti River at Rangrik, note the prayer written on the mountain
Autumn Colours at Mane Village
The most notable thing about Mane was the vibrant Autumn colours in various shades of yellow and gold. Situated at an altitude of 2926 m, the village has a small Gompa that did not appeal much to us. Other than this, there is nothing much in this village. We spent most of our time here interacting with the village kids. Later, we got to know that there is a lake known as Sopona Lake, which is a 2-3 Km trek away from the village.
Farmland at Mane
On the way to Mane
The children of Mane
The Buddhist Mummy at Gue
The intriguing mummy at Gue had captivated my imagination right from the first time I had heard about it. After I landed in Spiti, I could no longer contain my curiosity and kept asking about it to everyone I met. Finally, I was at Gue and as I knelt in reverence, it was a moment of awe that no words can describe. The remarkably well preserved mummy in a sitting position with intact hair and nails left us astonished. That no chemicals are used, the natural mummification just left us marveling. At a distance of about 80 Km and a few kilometers away from the Indo-China border, Gue is the furthest village from Kaza. Situated at an altitude of around 3200 m, Gue is famous for this 500-600 year old naturally preserved mummy of a Lama that was discovered by the army after an old tomb containing the mummified body had opened up following the earthquake in 1975. The mummy is now kept in a separate chamber inside a glass casing just beside the village Gompa. Locals believe that the mummy is of Lama Sangha Tenzin, who had sacrificed his life to free the village from a menace of scorpions. They say when the Lama’s soul left his body there was a rainbow in the sky and the scorpions had disappeared. Carbon Dating has scientifically established the mummy to be of a 45 year old Lama from the last quarter of 15th century. The Lama apparently belonged to Gelugapa order who are practitioners of Zogchen, the highest form of meditation. This is the only Buddhist mummy in the world and also the only known naturally preserved mummy in India.
The Bewildered me
The Gompa at Gue
Apple Orchards & Mud Monastery at Tabo
The extraordinary Mud Monastery at Tabo took us by surprise as I had not heard/read about this before. Tabo is situated at an altitude of 3279 m. and the monastery dates back to 996 CE, the Tibetan year of the Fire Ape, when it was founded. The monastery, consisting of temples and Chortens, is completely made of Mud and is surrounded by tall mountains that supposedly have a number of caves carved into the cliff face that are used by the monks for meditation. That’s why Tabo Monastery is known as the ‘Ajanta of the Himalayas’. We read about the caves in the description provided in the signboard but didn’t have the time to go see them. We got to know that the Dalai Lama considers Tabo Monastery to be one of the holiest and has also expressed his desire to retire in this ancient monastery. He has also held Kalachakra ceremonies here in 1983 and 1996.
The same compound also has the new monastery, which is concrete and of modern architecture. We were fortunate to attend a prayer ritual that was happening at the new monastery when we were around. Tabo Gompa houses many ancient and priceless Buddhist manuscripts and is considered second in importance to the Tholing Gompa in Tibet.
Tabo also fascinated us with its apple orchards, which start off many miles before reaching the village and continue many miles beyond it. To top it all, the apple trees were covered with ripe red apples and it was with great difficulty that we controlled our desire to just go and pluck off a few. Even the monastery has a garden of apple trees with the tonnes of apples hanging from the trees.
The new Gompa
Prayer ritual inside the new Gompa
A section of the Mud Monastery
The Quaint Villages of Kibber, Lhalung, & Chicham
We experienced the local culture through our homestays at Kibber and Lhalung village. The enriching experiences at the homestays demanded a separate post altogether. An important highlight worth mentioning here is catching a glimpse of the red-eyed fox on our way to Lhalung as it quickly passed by our car and went down the mountain.
While at Kibber, we went to visit the newly inaugurated bridge that connects Kibber to Chicham village – a bridge that took 17 years to complete. It is unnerving to think that before this bridge, people would use a trolley tied through a ropeway between the deep gorges at a drop of about 150 m. to go to Chicham. It’s not surprising that many people have lost their lives during this commute, which was the only mode of connectivity to Chicham.
The trolley before the bridge (Pic Source: Traveholics, Vagabonder’s Wanderings)
The newly constructed bridge
Dhankar Gompa from a Distance
Dhankar village is famous for the 1000 year old Dhankar Gompa and the mesmerizing Dhankar lake, which can be reached only after a steep climb of about 3 Kms up the mountain. The quiet and solitude at the lake made all the climb totally worthwhile.
The Dhankar monastery is built on a high spur of the mountain overlooking the confluence of the Spiti and Pin rivers. Dhankar was the traditional capital of Spiti Valley and the monastery is like a fort that also served as a prison. Dhankar literally means fort on a cliff (Dhan: cliff, and Kar: fort). Most of the fort is in ruins now after the 1975 earthquake. A new Gompa has also been built but the old one is truly fascinating. Unfortunately, we did not have the time to explore the fort and had to satisfy ourselves with the view from a distance. However, we were lucky to have spotted a few blue sheep grazing up in the mountain on our way to Dhankar. You can’t have it all…can you!
Steps to Dhankar Gompa (Pic Source: Spiti@IncredibleSpiti.com)
Dhankar Gompa as we saw it from a distance
The Pristine Beauty of Pin Valley
Pin Valley mesmerized us with its gorgeous landscape. Pin River, with its majestic greenish-blue color runs throughout the length of this fascinating valley before merging with Spiti River. Pin also houses the ‘Pin Valley National Park’. We took a drive down the valley upto Mud village but did not have enough time to visit the National Park.
Our Pin Valley drive can be summed up as a sunny day with azure blue sky alongside the graceful and sinuous Pin River through the enchanting silence of miles and miles of isolation accompanied by stunning views of the mottled desert mountains.
We crossed several villages on the way of which Mikkim is worth mentioning as its population of only 30 amazed us. We also walked on a hanging bridge over the river and visited Kungri Gompa on the way. Kungri is the second oldest Gompa in the Lahaul and Spiti Valley and has the distinction of being the only monastery, which belongs to the Nyingmapa order of Buddhism.
Hanging bridge over Pin River
The gorgeous Pin Valley
Looking for Fossils at Langza
Situated at an altitude of 4400 m., Langza village is dominated by a large statue of Lord Buddha, overlooking the valley. Langza is also the place to find fossils of marine animals and plants, which is attributed to Spiti Valley being submerged in the Tethys Sea millions of years ago. We expected to see a few but got to know that they can be found only if we trek higher up in the mountains.
Lord Buddha facing the mountains at Langza
The varied colours of the mountain at Langza
A fossil rock displayed at our hotel
Grazing animals against the amazing landscape
Seabuckthorn Tea at Komic
Situated at a towering height of 4587m, Komic’s distinguishing feature is that it is the highest village in the world connected by a motorable road. However, our memories of Komic is associated with Seabuckthorn tea as this was where we had tasted it for the first time. Seabuckthorn are orangish berries, the shrubs of which are scattered all over Spiti Valley. These fruits are a rich source of vitamin-C and due to their therapeutic properties are used in traditional medicines. The dried and crushed form make amazing organic tea that tastes like hot Fanta though we enjoyed eating them right off the plants too!
The Signboard on display as you enter the village
Seabuckthorn freshly plucked off the plants
Posting Letters at Hikkim
Hikkim was super special – after all not everyday you get to post letters from the highest post office in the world. We sent post cards back home to our parents, which they are yet to receive and which is a surprise. Can’t wait to see their reactions. We also posted cards to our own addresses in the city and which have already arrived. At an altitude of 4440 m., Hikkim also has the highest polling booth in India. While driving back from Hikkim, we got lucky again and this time witnessed two Ibexes looking down at us from the mountain top.
Pathway through the village towards the post office
At the world’s highest post office
Hikkim village as seen from the road above it, note the post office at the far end
Praying at Kee Monastery [or Key Monastery]
Picturesquely perched on a hilltop, Kee Monastery appears like a fortress with its haphazardly stacked rooms and temples. At an altitude of 4,116 m., the over 1000-year-old monastery is the oldest training center for Lamas and has been destroyed and rebuilt several times. Besides invaders, it has also dealt with natural calamities of fire and earthquake. It has a vast collection of ancient murals, books and centuries old thangkas. We had expected to see a flurry of activities in the monastery with Lamas of all age groups busily carrying out their daily activities. None of that happened and the monastery wore a barren look as all the Lamas had gone over to Kaza that day for attending a ceremony. Also, we had plans of spending a night at the monastery but our amazing homestay experience resulted in swapping it with another homestay instead. So, we explored the monastery, prayed, and chatted with the only Lama available and headed for Gette.
Perched on a hilltop
At the temple
The signboard inside the monastery
Tying Prayer Flags at Gette
Dozens of prayer flags fluttering in the strong wind tied around an old Chorten on a hilltop is what greeted us at Gette. Surrounded by tall mountains and situated at a height of 4270m., it is also a viewpoint for Kee monastery that lies on one side of the valley. On the other side is the Gette village, which has only 2-3 houses. There was nobody other than us at Gette at that point of time and we spent our time leisurely tying prayer flags and clicking selfies while reveling with the wind in our hairs.
The Chorten at Gette
Prayer flags fluttering in the wind
Kunzum La and Chandrataal
It was afternoon and the wind was blowing strong when we reached Kunzum La on our way to Spiti. The prayer flags were fluttering and the landscape around it breathtaking. Situated at an altitude of 4,590 m. Kumzum La is the gateway to Spiti being the only motorable route that connects Kullu valley and Lahaul Valley with Spiti Valley. It also offers a spectacular view of Bara-Sigri, the second the longest glacier in the world. A series of Chortens and prayers written on flat stones are prominently displayed. All vehicles passing by this route stop here and pay respect to Kunzum Devi. The stunning Chandrataal is at a distance of 9.5 Km from Kumzum La and the more I say about Chandrataal the less it is and definitely demands a separate post.
Chortens and prayer flags at Kunzum
‘Om Mani Padme Hun’
Spiti Valley feels like a dream. The surreal landscapes that remain cut-off by snow from the rest of the country for at least 7 months a year is a different world altogether and has completely enthralled me. I have already written so many posts on it but it still feels like I have so much more to share…..And now I can totally relate to Rudyard Kipling’s description of Spiti –
“At last entered a world within a world – a valley of leagues where the high hills were fashioned of the mere rubble and refuse from off the knees of the mountains… Surely the Gods live here.”
As the car started climbing up the winding mountain road from Manali, I could sense the rush of that familiar feeling of excitement and happiness – which surfaces only when I am headed to the mountains, Himalayas to be more specific. And this time I was about to explore the cold desert mountains of Western Himalayas.
We were on our way to Spiti, the land between Tibet and India. The name ‘Spiti’ literally means ‘The Middle Land’
Spiti had been on my mind for a long time now, right from the time I came to know about it, 7 years back. However, it happened rather suddenly when impulsively I asked my Manager for leave amidst extremely busy times at office not knowing that it would be granted and everything was planned in less than two weeks. And, then my sister offered to join in. Magic just happens, all you need is the intent!
The winding roads continued as we feasted our eyes on the green conifers shining in the early morning light. As we crossed Rohtang Pass, the green trees disappeared almost suddenly being replaced by massive rocky mountains. Almost simultaneously, the tarred road also disappeared and it was replaced by a pathway strewn with pebbles and loose mud.
The pathway got narrow and narrower and seemed to hang precariously on the mountain slopes. Further ahead, the pebbles were replaced by larger stones and there were huge rocks planted randomly here and there. Every now and then I thought we were about to hit a dead end but a hidden path would emerge from nowhere. On occasions we were asked to step out of the car and walk up a few meters only to reduce the load and make it easier for Raju, the driver of our car.
We rode across several waterfall, which we learned are known as ‘Nalla’ in everyday verbiage in this part of the world. These constitute water coming from the glaciers and the quantity of water increases as the day progresses. Some of these were pretty risky. For us, it was sheer Adrenalin rush but not quite for Raju who had to manipulate his way carefully and at one time he even sent out a sincere prayer to the Almighty. He had already displayed his driving expertise, why did he have to do that! He revealed a couple of experiences – once when his car had gotten stuck at one such nalla forcing him to spend the cold night in his car and another when he saw his friend’s car skid and fall into the deep gorge, thankfully his friend was saved. Raju also entertained us with other interesting stories of the road – sudden snow falls, increased water levels in the nallas, traffic jams created by broken vehicles, etc.
The bumpy ride rattled every bone in our body but we weren’t bothered. Just one look out of the window is all it took to forget the tumultuous journey.
Humongous mountains fiercely stared at us revealing their might with river Chandra gushing below with its emerald green water. It’s difficult to comprehend that there can be so much splendor in the rugged and starkly bare sky-touching mountains. We marveled at the various shades of brown, black, white, and grey. Later on in Spiti, we also found splendid shades of peach, amber, orange, and yellow. The mountains were intricately patterned and curved and each one looked uniquely different. The impressive craftsmanship is attributed to the melting snow as it flows down towards the river.
It was the beginning of October and there wasn’t much snow around. Though the mountain tops did have some snow and some of them were fresh. Winter was just round the corner and soon everything would be carpeted in white. In fact, the route from Manali would also close down. The way from Shimla would however remain open.
We learn from our driver, Raju, that the route from Shimla is what we should have ideally taken. Usually people start from Shimla and end at Manali. Though getting to Kaza, the main town of Spiti through Shimla will take you upto 3 days as compared to just one day through Manali. However, that route will take you through the beautiful places of Kalpa and Chitkul of Kinnaur Valley. Also, the road from Shimla is a properly tarred one. I realized in my hurry I hadn’t done my research well enough.
The route though Shimla would have been wonderful but I don’t regret having taken the one from Manali. It was definitely worth the experience in its entirety and it also appealed to my adventurous spirit. At one point we even landed at a place where the road was missing, a huge boulder had apparently fallen from the mountain taking along with it a portion of the road. We had to wait for a while and a make shift road was put in place by using stones. Another time a local villager stopped us asking if we could drop him to Losar, which was a village on the way. We readily agreed and had some interesting conversations on the way. Not just that, when we saw yaks grazing in the wilderness our excitement took over us and he drove one of the yaks towards us so that we could get a good picture.
After all the adventures, as the sun was setting for the day, we reached Spiti. To our surprise, we were greeted by superbly tarred and smooth roads that were starkly contrasting to what we had endured so far. “This feels like butter!”, I heard my sister remark from the backseat. “Now, that’s cheesy!” I grinned from the front seat, where I had shifted to be alongside Raju a long while ago.
“Yehi best time hai ji!” (This is the best time), proclaimed Raju, our guide and driver for the past 3 days at Spiti. As I looked at the way ahead towards Dhankar Lake with the afternoon Sun at its blazing best, I couldn’t stop myself from asking Raju if some other time would have been better.
This timing was the result of a tweak in our original plan for that day, which was to arrive at Dhankar village in the morning, visit the spectacular 1000 year old Dhankar Monastery, explore the village for a while and then make our way to Dhankar Lake. However, we changed our plan while on our way, did other things and landed here in the afternoon instead. It was about 2.45 PM, and by now we had learnt that afternoon is the time when it gets really really hot in this cold desert mountain.
Raju had informed that it would take us about an hour to climb up the stretch of about 2.5 Km. It is considered an easy hike but the steep climb in that altitude can make you breathless within a few seconds. It can be physically challenging if one is not used to steep climbs.
A muddy trail marked by the beautiful colours of Autumn welcomed us as we took our first step towards our destination. Armed with a bottle of water each, the three of us set off determined to reach the top in less than the stipulated 1-hour time.
As we climbed up, Dhankar monastery and the village homes against the intricately designed surrounding mountains was a sight to behold. A particular patch looked like a termite hill, another had a tunnel like opening and looked like a secret cave leading way down to Spiti river, the new monastery was sparkling in its golden yellow colour, the meandering road snaking its way up to the village was clearly visible, dotting here and there were brightly colored shrubs in hues of orange, yellow, brown and green. It appeared like a scene of some other planet, straight out of a Sci-fi movie.
Further ahead the muddy trail became steeper and gave way to loose pebbles scattered all along the pathway. One mis-step in the steep ridges and you will go down the rocky mountain. I thanked my foresighted decision of wearing my trekking shoes to Spiti instead of my normal sports shoes or any other shoes. Up here, the wind was pretty strong too.
Dhankar lake lies hidden behind the mountains that surround the Dhankar village. Situated at a height of 4136 meters, it remains frozen and inaccessible for most part of the year. Dhankar lake is considered holy by the local people.
We made the climb in about 45 min. As we approached the lake, it looked like a tiny pool of water that totally disappointed my sister who had put in quite a bit of effort to make the climb. Raju chose to ignore the snide remark she made at this point, urging us to walk along the side of the lake.
As we continued walking, the colour of the lake kept changing and on reaching the far end of the lake we were speechless, mesmerized by the amazing view that lay in front of us! Stunned by the turquoise colour of the water and the barren mountains with their snow covered peaks in the backdrop, we were dumbstruck! To add to it, the azure–blue sky and complete silence. No sound rang out from the shimmering stillness of the lake other than the gentle whistling of the wind. The idyllic scene looked like nature’s amphitheater that simply took our breath away.
I felt complete peace and everything seemed utterly beautiful. There was nobody around at that time other than the three of us. Absorbing all the calm and serenity, we sat in complete silence and conversed in unspoken words as my mind and heart rejoiced with joy. Perhaps a manifestation of the divine presence in the lake, as believed by the locals.
“Ab chale, Madamji?” (Shall we leave now, Ma’am?), Raju’s voice bounced me back to reality. I smiled and nodded in agreement. I had lost all track of time. A quick glance at my watch informed that we’d been there for more than an hour. With a huge deal of effort, I reluctantly rose to my feet to bid farewell to the soothing time and moment beside the calm and dreamy Lake. With the resolve to come back someday, I tied a prayer flag before I followed Raju retracing our way back.
As I write this today, it feels like a dream and I long for the same feeling to take over my senses once again.
Note: All pictures are unedited, raw photos clicked through iPhone-6
It was biting cold as we stepped out of the car. I have no idea of the temperature but the cold hit us hard especially out of the warm and cozy car. I felt like my body was about to convert into a mound of ice even after putting on additional layers of fleece. It was 8 AM by then and we had not expected it to be so cold at this hour. Regretting my decision of wearing yoga pants and not denims that morning, I couldn’t help wonder how it might have felt a few hours earlier, at dawn. The sun was glowing bright all along the edges of the snow-capped mountain tops but was yet to reach the base of the mountain where we walked. Our anticipation of what awaited us kept us going even as our teeth chattered and our limbs were near numb. Also, we knew the cold was temporary and it was just a matter of time before the sun would warm us up.
Our destination appeared like an unimpressive greenish-brown pool of water as we saw it from a distance. As we approached closer, the colour changed dramatically to a turquoise blue, and then a blueish green and then deep blue blending with the green edges. The magical crescent shaped Moon Lake or Chandrataal revealed its jaw-dropping gorgeousness. Its magnificence glimmered in the morning light – a slice of heaven on earth it was! It was kind of a lightening-bolt moment for us.
Chandrataal is situated in the Spiti part of the Lahul and Spiti district of Himachal Pradesh. The name of the lake reflects its crescent shape (Chandra – Moon; Taal – Lake). It is fed by the Chandra Glacier, which lies within the Chandrabhaga range that overlooks the lake. Hidden behind the mountains and situated at an altitude of 4300 m, its pristine and clear waters is sure to put you on a trance.
I had never seen such profound beauty before and my heart and mind was captivated instantaneously. There was instant peace and calm. The hypnotic tranquility had cast its spell and it seemed too beautiful to be true. I felt like I was in a reverie as I tried to absorb all the divinity emanating from the surroundings. The water was still with the brown mountains casting their reflection on one side of the lake, the prayer flags fluttered on the other side, the sky a deep shade of blue – creating an atmosphere too good to be true.
We just stood there speechless totally engrossed and don’t remember feeling cold anymore. If there is a heaven, it’s got to be like this. A few minutes and the sun was up, its golden rays spreading all across the lake.
We walked a few meters by the side of the lake, tad reluctantly, not wanting to disturb the divine magnificent tranquility we were soaking in. As we moved on, another splendor unfolded, this time it was the reflection of the snow-clad mountains and the water had turned a indigo blue.
It was bliss! Words are falling short and I have no language to express my feelings. Is this real? If I am dreaming, please don’t wake me up! The more I saw, the more I wanted to see….it was just not enough. We kept gazing and even a blink seemed to be wasteful.
After walking for a bit, we sprinkled a little of the cold water on our face and sat down to absorb the quiet emanating all through the bluish-green expanse. One can also choose to do a parikrama around the lake, which takes about 2.5 hours.
No wonder this place is considered holy. Such glorious scene has to have a divine presence. We read the clear instructions provided at the start of our walk about maintaining the sanctity of the holy lake by observing silence and not littering around. The place was absolutely clean. Not sure if it was due to the handiwork of the local people or it was because of the travelers abiding by the instructions. I do hope with all sincerity that it is the latter. There was no noise either, however, there were very few people at that time. The ‘monastery-quiet’ had a soothing and healing effect. Vehicles are not allowed in the vicinity of the lake, hence the 1.5 Km walk. Kudos to whoever took this decision and implemented the same.
One can do a day visit to Chandrataal or can camp overnight. There is a place 3Km away from the lake which has an assortment of tents of all shapes and sizes. Most travelers camp overnight. During our visit in October, the night temperature was around -7 degree Celsius. Some people camp with the hope of catching a glimpse of the Milky Way, some for the sheer adventure of it, while some others expect a party-like atmosphere with bonfires and music. We had decided not to camp there as the idea did not appeal to us, it was full moon so chances of seeing the Milky Way was slim and parties don’t interest us anyway.
We could have spent an entire day sitting beside Chandrataal absorbing its divine splendor but our plans to go back to Manali on the same day restricted us and we had to leave after spending about 2 hours. We were truly lucky to be able to witness the perfect reflection on the lake. The reflection depends on the weather conditions and is not always visible. The mountain Gods had ensured a blue sky with very little wind.
I feel blessed to have witnessed such immense beauty and I bow to Mother Nature in gratitude. Chandrataal gave me moments of perfect bliss and left me yearning for more. With a sigh, I traced my way back with the resolve to return to this halcyon paradise some day again…..
A corner of my mind and heart now stand permanently reserved for the enchanting Himalayas after my first rendezvous with the majestic snow-clad magnificence.
I was back from Kedarkanta Trek with millions of tales to tell and I’ve been told a couple of times that each time I reminisce the Himalayas my face lights up and my eyes sparkle – a comment that doesn’t fail to amuse me!
I had deliberately planned the next trek during the Christmas week in the month of December. This was to be my second Himalayan trek in the year 2016. This time my friend, Papia, was joining me and I was delighted. Papia always nurtured a sincere desire to trek the Himalayas but felt she couldn’t and it took me quite an effort to convince her. Once convinced, there was no looking back and she plunged wholeheartedly into it. She even got her brother’s family and two other people with her. A colleague of mine also joined in. So, this time we were a big gang of 7 people from Bangalore.
Thoroughly satisfied with my previous experience, I once again decided to trek with IndiaHikes (a trekking community). We had chosen Har-ki-Dun and it was the prospect of walking in snow that excited many in our group. While we were busy planning Har-ki-Dun, destiny had something else in store for us. Just a fortnight before the trek, we got to know Har-ki-Dun was cancelled as the government had decided not to allow winter trekking in the area. IndiaHikes gave us the option of taking our money back or trek Kuari Pass instead. We chose the latter as we already had booked our tickets to Dehradun. I for one, was totally disheartened and my enthusiasm subsided considerably. The reason being Kuari Pass wasn’t rated amongst the top 10 Himalayan treks by IndiaHikes. Well, the saying ‘whatever happens is always for the best’ revealed itself later during the trek.
This time, we traveled to Joshimath from Dehradun. Needless to say this was yet another journey that is etched in our memories forever. As we passed through the ‘Panch Prayag’ (Vishnuprayag, Nandaprayag, Karnaprayag, Rudraprayag, and Devprayag) one by one with Mother Ganges in all her glory for constant company, it was a journey through paradise. By the time we reached Joshimath, dusk had set in. However, even after travelling for 12 hours on road there was no exhaustion whatsoever.
The following day, a 45 min drive took us to Auli, considered as one of the best ski destinations in India. The season’s snowfall hadn’t happened and Auli bore a barren look much to the disappointment of many in our group. After all, it was late December and Christmas Eve for heaven’s sake! We climbed the Auli slope for a little more than 2 hours. The rugged mountains in the background with glimpses of snow gave us some respite from the barren slopes and noisy tourists.
Pic 3: As we climbed the barren slopes of Auli
As we left the slopes and moved higher, Mount Nanda Devi made a brief and grandiose appearance bringing in the much needed excitement to all of us. Very soon the much awaited Oak forest greeted us. The interplay of sun and shade, the ground strewn with fallen leaves, and the gradual climb made for a mesmerizing walk that I will cherish for the rest of my life. In a tiny clearing at the edge of the woods is ‘Padiyar Devta’ temple. The serene and tranquil temple seemed to be in perfect harmony with the calmness and silence of the surrounding woods.
We reached Gorson Bugyal, our camp site for Day 1. The group of 18 odd people from various walks of life were slowly getting to know each other – a bunch of young scientists from ISRO, an ophthalmologist from AIIMS, an executive from a well-known MNC, the tech engineer duo, entrepreneur couples, instructional designers, and last but not the least a computer scientist with degrees from top-tier institutions across the world, who quit his high-flying career to be with the Himalayas.
An acclimatization walk in the afternoon followed by an abundance of ghost stories around a bon fire marked the other highlights of Day-1. The temperatures dropped as we retired for the night amidst a bright and twinkling sky with millions of shining stars. Our wishes for snowfall intensified and someone even sent out a fervent prayer to the universe. We hoped for a miracle as the weather prediction didn’t mention snow for the next one week.
And miracle did happen…..
All night long we thought we heard rain drops splattering across our tents. It was cold and the thought of rain was enough to dampen our spirits. Just before dawn, Papia put on her headlamp and opened the tent to inspect the rain…..and she squealed out in joy as all she saw was white flakes all around. It was the season’s first snowfall and it was Christmas morning. What could be more magical than this! We felt we were nature’s chosen ones and this was special. It was Papia’s first experience of snow as was for most others in the group.
It snowed intermittently as we walked making for a very special Christmas Day, Day-2 of our trek. It was a cloudy day for most part. The sun did make brief appearances during the morning half but it lacked the usual warmth. It was freezing and the cold seemed to seep in through our skin. The snow mountains peeked through the clouds once in a while allowing us glimpses of Haati-Ghoda and Dronagiri. The twin peaks of Haati-ghoda had become our constant companion right from the time we had spotted them for the first time on our way to Joshimath. The setting sun had painted them a bright orange that had stolen our hearts in an instant.
Walking right ahead with those at the beginning of our group, we approached the ridge, which was an adrenalin rush for many but not for me. My heart froze as I saw the narrow trail with the almost vertical cliff on one side and the deep valley on the other. Khusiji, our guide, offered a hand and I covered the entire 1.5 Km clinging onto him. I couldn’t concentrate much on the mind-blowingly beautiful stretch with shades of green, brown, yellow, black. It had started to snow once again while we were midway onto the stretch, which intensified as we were towards the end. At the end of this stretch, I sent out a small prayer of gratitude to the Almighty for enabling me to cross over to the other side safe and sound. Simultaneously, my mind raced to Papia and the rest of my gang who were trailing behind wondering how they were faring. It was not until later that night I got to know it was just as challenging for them as well.
Passing through the gorgeous Tali lake that was half frozen, we entered the fascinating Oak woods once again. This time, it was even more magical as the entire place was covered with snow. It was a surreal feeling of fantasy as I could imagine Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer passing by with Santa’s sleigh and leaving behind an illuminated trail for us to follow. My joyful mind quietly hummed the Christmas Carol (Rudolf the red-nosed reindeer…..) and I felt I could hear the jingling bells all around me.
As the temperatures dropped further, we reached Chithrakantha camp site, situated in the heart of the forest. It had gotten extremely cold and I have to admit that we were feeling miserable despite the layers of warm clothes we had on. Some sat around a fire while others wouldn’t step out of their tents. I felt my blood was freezing and was in no mood to even talk to anybody – a behavior alien to the otherwise exuberant me. We retired for the night apprehensive about the weather next day and wondered how deep the snow might be higher up where we would trek the following day. The sleeping bags kept us warm and cozy but we couldn’t sleep well, which was for the unevenness of the ground rather than the cold.
It was Day-3, the summit day and we had started early. The Mountain Gods had smiled and a bright and sunny day greeted us, which lifted our spirits considerably. There was sparkling snow all around us and we couldn’t be happier. The terrain constituted several steep ascents and steep descents. The snow peaks glistened at the distance and their elegance and splendor kept multiplying with every ascent. Once again, it was Haati-Ghoda and Dronagiri along with the spectacular Neelkanth that were most prominent peaks accompanying us all the way.
It wasn’t all smooth sailing for me and Day-3 felt tough especially the stretches of steep ascents. Despite that, I was thoroughly enjoying myself and the good weather had a lot to do with that. I was intermittently sending my gratitude to the Mountains for giving me this opportunity to experience their supreme splendor.
Passing through Chitrakantha top with a panoramic 360 degree view we arrived at a ridge with gradual slopes. Here, the strong winds threatened to throw us off and we struggled to maintain our balance.
Passing through a part of the legendary ‘Lord Curzon’s Trail’ we reached the breathtaking frozen waterfall. Precariously we made our way down through the sides of the waterfall with crampons attached to our shoes that provided the much needed additional grip.
Finally, we reached Kuari Pass! We were overwhelmed at 12,516 ft and each one of us rejoiced in our own way. While some of us preferred to sit in complete silence, others got busy clicking selfies and freezing the moment forever through their lenses.
As I sat there absorbing every bit of the surrounding gorgeousness, my mind ran to Papia and I wished we could enjoy this moment together. Papia, along with a few others had opted out of the summit and had instead descended to Khullara, our next camp, where I would meet her later that day. The miserably chilling conditions of Day-2 drove them towards this decision.
With the summit over, we retraced our path and proceeded towards Khullara. While most of the people moved ahead, a group of five of us decided to take it slow as we rested, chatted, clicked pictures, and made the most of our descent towards Khullara.
Khullara was the most beautiful campsite of this trek. It was a small clearing, surrounded by forest slopes and mountain ranges. The brilliant sunsets and sunrises we witnessed here across Neelkanth, haati Ghoda, Dronagriri and other peaks was a feast for the eyes. People who chose not to go to the summit ended up having a wonderful time exploring Khullara and it was not a bad bargain after all.
Starting early the next day, we commenced our journey towards Joshimath through the Tapovan valley. During the onward journey as always, I was way ahead with the group of people who were always at the beginning. On the return journey, I chose to go slow, stay behind and relish each and every moment. Who knows when I’ll be back again!
Another fantastic trail of about 9 Km awaited us as we pass through forests partially covered in snow with steep descends in some places, overlooking the snow-mountains all along. Towards the end of the trail we passed through a cluster of hamlets that provided a glimpse of the lives of the local people. As we passed through one such village, someone remarked “How lucky are these people to wake up to such a view of the Himalayas everyday!” It took us a good 60-70 minutes from the village to the nearest motorable road. Joshimath was a 45 minute drive from here. Are the village people really all that lucky? And to think that they don’t have a hospital.
My second Himalayan trek had come to an end. Captivated and spellbound I was once again. Additionally, this time two realizations dawned upon me. First, a Himalayan trek is about feelings and experiences that are beyond all words. You have to go there to know what I mean. Second, the belief that our desire and intention is nothing before the mighty Himalayas (and perhaps all other mountains). The mountains decide what they want you to experience. If the mountains concede, only then you get to set foot on them to experience their majestic grandeur and I bow in reverence.
The year 2016 was particularly difficult for me. Certain things happened that negatively impacted my personal environment changing the course of my life, perhaps forever. Alongside something else happened. Again impacting me, but in a positive way. Even though this cannot compensate for the other things that have gone so wrong, I feel fortunate and blessed. And here’s what happened – I undertook two fascinating journeys discovering the intriguing beauty of the majestic Himalayas as I trekked to Kedarkanta and Kuari Pass in Uttarakhand. In an attempt to share my wonderful experience, I am penning down the story of my Himalayan sojourn.
Let me start with Kedarkanta…
I am not getting into the details of how I landed up deciding to go on a Himalayan trek. It was a very impulsive decision and how grateful am I for that!
It was the third week of April, the week of my birthday. Accompanied by my friend, Partho, I embarked on my maiden venture to the Abode of Snow with IndiaHikes (a trekking community). Kedarkanta peak is located in Govind National Park and the trek starts from a tiny village called Sankri, tucked away well within the park. We started from Dehradun and the entire route to Sankri was a picturesque one, making the 10 hour drive really pleasurable. Sankri is a tiny little beautiful village with a population of just about 300 offering some stunning views of the mountain ranges in Uttarakhand.
I was trekking for the first time, though I had gone for a day trek in Bangalore before but I don’t consider that to be of any significance. Kedarkanta is considered an easy trek but for people like me with an otherwise sedentary lifestyle, it wasn’t all that easy. I did have an edge though – at least that’s what I would like to believe. After all, I belong to the mountains, having spent the first 30 years of my life in the Eastern Himalayas in the beautiful little hill station of Shillong. My hometown, fondly known as the Scotland of the east, the capital of Meghalaya – abode of clouds!
We were in a group of 25 people of all age groups with the youngest being 9 years old. Most of us were first timers. There were three families and half the group constituted members of the same family. However, by the end of the first day, the entire group had become like one big family.
As we climbed up towards Juda-ka-Talab on Day 1, it was raining intermittently. That didn’t stop us from enjoying the steady ascent through the forests of pine, deodar and oak trees. Occasionally, we would pause to admire the rhododendrons that were blooming all the way. We even plucked a few to satisfy our curiosity of tasting the flower petals. This was totally new to me. I had no clue that we could eat rhododendrons!
The changing landscape kept us engaged all along – forests with shades of all kinds of green with tinges of yellow and orange; trees with intricate trunk patterns having roots that spread far and wide; occasional green meadows irresistible to our already aching feet. We also came across one or two shepherd huts that appeared abandoned. These are places where the shepherds spend the night when they come up grazing their sheep as they cannot go back on the same day. We later learnt that the shepherds of the adjoining villages usually move around in team of twos armed with ‘kukris’ so that during the night while one rests the other watches over the sheep, protecting them from wolves and bears.
After a continuous climb of 4 Km for about 4 hours through countless pines and oaks, Juda-ka-Talab revealed itself as a small pond in a tiny little clearing amidst the lush green and dense forest. Legend has it that Lord Shiva opened a little of his hair and water flowed out to form this small pond.
A little after we reached Juda-Ka-Talab, the rains intensified, forcing us inside our tents. After a continuous spell of about an hour or so, the rains disappeared without trace and a bright and sunny afternoon greeted us. We didn’t see a frozen Juda-Ka-Talab as the ice had melted just a week before we had arrived. No complaints, especially with the snow-clad mountains around us and the reflections of the surrounding pine trees on the ‘talab’ making the entire place an ecstatic visual delight. With our minds and hearts overwhelmed, we retired for the night as the stars shone bright and beautiful making the whole experience blissful and magical.
We looked up and saw the Kedarkanta peak at a distance that was partially covered in snow. It was Day-2 and we had just arrived at Kedarkanta base after a very short and steep climb. The quick ascent left us pleasantly surprised. While most people were delighted with the thought of being able to rest and relax in such heavenly abode, I was excited about the prospect of exploring the adjoining woods. Being the naturally energetic person that I am and with my mind busy fantasizing the witches and fairies of the woods that surrounded us, I wasn’t going to spend the rest of the day just idling around the tent. At the same time, I couldn’t master enough courage to venture into the woods all by myself. I found the 55-year old Vinod for company whom I had befriended the day before, and who amazed me with his stamina and fitness, passion for trekking, his grit and determination, and his love for the Himalayas. We shared our common love for yoga.
Time stood still as we walked through the enchanted forests of oaks and pines, admired the lichens and mosses, listened to the rustling of dry leaves below our feet, took note of the birds calling out every now and then, discovered streams and waterfalls, relaxed in the meadows, clicked selfies, talked to the occasional shepherd appearing from nowhere with his flock of sheep and disappearing in the same way, encountered the extraordinarily friendly mountain dog, and chatted about our lives and experiences. I was living in a picture postcard. Life seemed perfect!
It was 3.00 AM in the morning and we were already on our way to Kedarkanta peak with headlamps and torches lighting our paths. It was cold and we walked in silence in one straight line being led by our trek guides. The cold eased a bit as twilight approached giving us hope and making Day-3: the Summit Day seem a little more achievable.
As twilight gave way to early morning, we were delighted to see patches of snow glistening with the first rays of the sun. There was some fresh snow indicating that it must have snowed the day before. The terrain constituted patches of steep ascents and continuous gradual ascents as we huffed and puffed our way towards the top. In some patches, the snow had turned to ice making it a slippery and risky affair.
Finally, after a climb of 6 Km for 6 hours, we reached Kedarkanta summit standing tall at 12,500 ft! The 360 degree panoramic view of some of the famous snow-clad peaks and mountain ranges was simply jaw dropping. Swargarohini, Bandarpoonch, Black Peak, Gangotri and the Yamunotri range, Chanshil Pass and Kinnaur Kailash ranges were clearly visible. Keeping my eyes wide open, I was gorging on every moment as my heart and soul danced with joy.
Climbing down was tricky at times especially during the initial descent where the slope was steep and in those places where there were patches of ice. We also did a slide in one patch that had some good amount of snow. It was some real fun as we twisted and turned, rolled and slipped, amidst hooting, laughter, and cheer!
After a brief rest at Kedarkanta base camp, we continued walking down towards Hargaon. While I was always amongst the top five people while climbing up, I was mostly lagging behind while climbing down – a clear sign that my knees needed some workout. Once again a spectacular trail through oaks, pines and streams led us to a meadow laid out in a carpet of green where we were camping for the day. It was a sunny afternoon with clear skies and we spent the rest of the day chit-chatting, reveling in the beauty of the surrounding snow-clad mountains, watching the horses grazing in the distance, walking barefoot on the soft grass, and playing cricket.
As Vinod and I basked in the sun along with a few others, a shepherd we had met the day before passed by with his flock of sheep. It was a moment of mutual delight. This time we chatted longer and learnt more about their lives and it was by no means an easy one. A pang of guilt hit me slightly as my mind did a spontaneous comparison of the kind of life I lead with all amenities at my disposal and here was someone whose life was a constant struggle oblivious to all the comforts that modern life has to offer.
Starting early on day-4 and revisiting our rhododendrons through the forest floor laden with dry pine needles and cones, we descended back to Sankri, the village where we had started.
At Sankri, we further explored the village, visited the ancient wooden temple of Bhairava (a fierce manifestation of Shiva), mingled with the locals, bathed in river Supin, watched young children play joyfully without a care in the world before finally calling it a day.
It was the end of my first Himalayan trek. However, for me this was the beginning of a new chapter in my life – a newly discovered love and passion for the mountains. I was spellbound – the enchanting Himalayas had captivated my soul. It was intoxicating and I knew I would be back very soon, which I did…. (Kuari Pass Trek)
The Mythology of Kedarkantha
Uttarakhand is considered to be the land of Lord Shiva and Kedarkantha peak has its own mythological story related to the Lord. The word Kedarkantha means Throat of Lord Shiva. The story goes back to Mahabharata. After the war of Kurukshetra, the Pandavas were looking for Lord Shiva to atone for the sins committed during the war. First they went to Varanasi, Shiva’s favorite city, which has the famous Vishwanath temple dedicated to the Lord. Infuriated by the death and dishonesty at the Kurukshetra war, Shiva wanted to avoid the Pandavas. So, he assumed the form of a bull (Nandi) and hid in the Garhwal Himalayas. Not finding Shiva in Varanasi, the Pandavas went off to the Himalayas. Bheema spotted the bull and recognized it to be Lord Shiva. He held on to the bull not letting it go. In the resultant struggle, the bull was torn into five parts that appeared at five different locations. This resulted into the Panch Kedar: Kedarnath – Back of Lord Shiva; Kalpeshwar – Hair of Lord Shiva; Rudranath – Face of Lord Shiva; Tungnath – Arms of lord Shiva; and Madhyamaheshwar – Navel of Lord Shiva. Locals believe that during that time, the throat of Lord Shiva fell at Kedarkantha peak and that’s how the peak got its name. A small temple dedicated to the Lord is situated at the summit.