My Travels – Page 5 – TRAVELTRUNK.NET

October 6, 2019April 28, 2020

Mandu and Maheshwar in the Monsoon Mist

India’s large heart – Madhya Pradesh, even after being cut down to size, still occupies a chunk smack in the middle of the country. That large heart can beat wildly like Pench or as peacefully as Orchha. Mandu and Maheshwar straddle a state of being somewhere in between. They make for excellent long weekend getaways when the monsoons revive the natural beauty to emerald green and make the Narmada flow full and deep.

Discover the emerald Betwa and Orchha in- Part One- On the Wild Side of Outstanding Orchha

Mandu – Tales of Mahals, Mausoleums & a Man-eater

The first of many trips one has made to Mandu was way back in the 80’s with three generations of the clan, like one mini Mughal army on the move, in a rickety jeep over a rutted road. The last visit was over a newly laid road good enough even for a Nano, part of a mini cavalcade now, to cater for another generation added to the expanding Mughal army! Two of my most abiding memories of that first trip were – at a waterfall overlooking a gorge being told the tale of a young trapeze artist promised a chunk of the kingdom if she managed to cross the gorge on a tightrope. As she neared the end, success nearly at her feet, the girl and the rope were cut down to size. The other, coming to know that a man-eater had just been caught at the Tarapur Darwaza the day before our arrival. It freaked me out so much that I imagined tigers outside the high vaulted airy room where we were putting up at the Taveli Mahal. (Which now houses the museum at the entrance of the Jahaz Mahal complex.) It made me oblivious to the setting of our accommodation which overlooked a lotus covered tank or the beauty around, cloaked in a misty veil much like the poetic romance of Baz Bahadur and Rani Roopmati, the chief protagonists of an abiding love story, who were proceeded and followed by others in the chequered history of a citadel said to be the largest in India.

A young Baobab gives company to an old monument

As one approaches Mandu, situated on an outcrop of the Malwa plateau, there are massive Baobab trees or ‘Khurasani Imlis’, as they are also called, maybe as a testimony to their winding journey from Africa to here, dotting the landscape. The road goes onto a narrow natural bridge before going through the first of three consecutive gates or Darwazas in a tight curve – Alamgiri, Bhangi (Yeah, sounds so politically incorrect now, but as per some stories in honour of the people proceeding an army heading out to battle.) and Delhi Darwaza, which should have made Mandu invincible but clearly didn’t, given the number of times it changed hands.

A place for the harem to perhaps frolic in the Mahal

Post monsoon is a special time to visit this place when it is emerald green, the ponds and tanks are full and the low clouds drift lazily in the breeze. Walk, hire a cycle (They are easily available.) or drive slowly and explore the green vistas and monuments that dot this place. Start at the square that makes up the bustling centre, where the barest remains of the Asharfi Mahal and austere Jami Masjid face each other. Behind the masjid is Hoshang Shah’s tomb which is supposed to have provided the template for the Taj Mahal. A short distance away, on one axis are the prehistoric Lohani caves, a part of Burra or Old Mandu and on the other, the star attraction – The Jahaz Mahal complex. Jahaz Mahal straddles a small lake and a large tank, both now devoid of the massive lotuses I remember from the first trip. Legend has it that the “Ship Palace”,(A name, if you ask me, more because of the location between the water bodies than any great resemblance to any floating vessel I know of.) housed fifteen thousand women at one time as part of the harem and hats off to the architect that the ‘jahaz’ didn’t sink! The sloping walls lend Hindola Mahal it’s name which is behind the Jahaz Mahal, and that adjoins a beautifully restored step well – The Champa Baori.

Explore palaces in- Part Two – The Old Gold in Outstanding Orchha

Baz Bahadur Mahal gazes at Roopmati Pavilion

On the far end of Mandu is Baz Bahadur’s Palace and Rewa Kund. The Kund, for some, is as sacred as the Narmada river itself. At a height, further on, right at the edge of the plateau is Rani Roopmati’s pavilion. An airy structure with a covered water reservoir was made so that the queen could see and pray to her beloved river, which seems to have shifted course or the haze obscured it or maybe I just have bad eyesight because I saw no river down in the Nimar plains. Enroute to these, but off the road are many small monuments, alone or in clusters. At one monument we saw carved blocks used upside down denoting pillaged older buildings being the source of the monument’s material. At another, a grave seemed to have walked out of the tomb only to come to rest under a tree nearby. The Neelkanth temple with it’s small courtyard is a few steps down literally carved out from a cave on the slope of the plateau and is on the road to Tarapur Darwaza.

The same darwaza where the trap had been set for the man-eating leopard, (Definitely no tiger!) one woman-eating leopard to be exact, many eons back. Mandu teems with stories and legends, real and fanciful and the only wildlife I have ever sighted has been a massive hyena, probably having the last laugh at my flighty imagination.

Find more wildlife in- Ranthambore Alert -Ticketing Trials and Tiger Trails

Weaving Sutras at Maheshwar

Maheshwar, home to the much in demand Maheshwari fabric woven there, is about an hour away from Mandu. A gentle winding road down the plateau brings us to the Nimar plains. Their blistering heat tempered by the rains right now. The faint outline of Roopmati’s pavilion is all that is visible of Mandu from below. At Maheshwar, narrow bylanes of a small town with a faintly mofussil feel, still lingering in the air, end at the Maheshwar fort. One part, which houses the private quarters of Ahilya Bai, the most famous of the Holkar rulers, has been converted into a boutique hotel by her descendants. A stone path takes us towards the ghats and we see the exquisitely carved stone spire of a temple but are just as soon distracted by the sounds of a hand loom on our left. Right there are weavers at work on the fabric so much ‘en vogue’ everywhere. The cloth & it’s colours beguiling us, we promise to come back for a more leisurely shopping experience at the end.

Read what another city has to offer in- Dera Jaipur: A Homestay for Stellar Style and Exceptional Experiences

A few steps down bring us to two stunningly carved stone temples facing each other. The Ayhileshwar temple is the bigger one on the right and it’s balustrades offer a beautiful view of the ghats below and the Narmada river beyond. The ghat steps with the fort as an Insta-worthy backdrop, are the piece de resistance and invite us to just sit and let the murmur of religious incantations here and there wash over us. We soak in the serenity of the sacred river, the raison d’être of this place which runs swift and deep, carrying boatloads of people, nearly submerging a temple on a tiny island nearby. A river sutra & tales of bygone queens seems to weave a common thread & bind these two historic towns at almost gazing distance of each other.

Travel to another historic town in- A Bard Sings a Story in Jhansi

July 30, 2019April 27, 2020

Cycling in Dehradun – The Best Routes for Leisure Rides

With my nose slightly in the air I can say that I started cycling much before cycling came into ‘vogue’. The accepted and expected mode of transportation in the small town I grew up was a cycle. So be it to school, to socialize, go for picnics, the fastest way was to get onto a cycle. No questions asked by the adults. It was safe, slow (That was only because the roads used to be, at best, potholed atleast!) and how far would we go on a cycle?( Ahem! Depends on how nefarious was the agenda.) Infact the first birthday present post marriage by the husband was a cycle and that fact has ensured that I have stayed faithful and not eyed the newer, fancier models! So I still have my almost 20 year old warhorse minus any fancy gears going strong. But I admit, cycling is still an athleisure activity for me and while I enjoy cycling immensely I have only that much stamina for it. So at times sleep, weather and sometimes just plain laziness makes me bury my head under the pillow while the cycle waits for another morning.

Cycle and explore – 3 Churches in Mhow: Discovering Obscure History and Outstanding Carols

Doon Cycling Diaries
So this summer, on a longish holiday at Dehradun, courtesy the child (Definitely more teenager than child now!) who was doing some serious round of studies (Will know next year how fruitful/futile that has been.) at ungodly timings, by my standards, but trying to be supportive parents, we decided that the best way to match her routine was to go for cycling in the morning. An extremely short hunt got us to the Bike Shop and soon two cycles plus the slightly oversized helmets were home delivered. The pluses of a small town. The minus we were to discover is that, in small towns, although the number of cyclists has come down, it is still a de facto means of transportation so the other people on the road do not give a fig about giving way to them/us! I mean that wannabe space- age helmet should tell people something about what serious business we are on! Oh well! Our first cycling sojourn in the hills drove home some pertinent facts – east and west are the best for novices. It is undulating so that there is periodic respite and one can carry on for longer. Going northwards is generally an uphill task! Duh!! What goes up eventually rolls down too but God! Uphill cycling can be like fire in the legs not to mention the lungs. All the mountain air is left outside!

Breathe some mountain air in- Barot – And the Serendipitous Catch in the Uhl River

Rediscovering Dehradun on a Cycle – A Road at a Time
Crossing Garhi Cantt we would see ardent golfers, joggers and young ones out in full force making the most of cool summer morning playing football and cricket. We would zip past Doon school closed for the summer and head back through the main market past the iconic Clock Tower. One particular morning we came across an old tree brought down by a summer storm the night before lying right across a road in the cantt, when we were finally through with the uphill huffing and puffing and looking forward to rolling down. The choice was between going back up a bit and hauling the cycles somehow across the tree. We decided to give our legs a break and exercise our arms instead and opted for the hauling!
Going on the Sahastradhara road we realized was definitely a north bound exercise, albeit a shaded and undulating one and the pedaling was nearly nonstop till we went down a steep slope onto a road that finally joined up with the main Rajpur road. There were parts of Doon I was seeing for the first time and I realized thanks to this slow mode, made slower by the fact that I could not pedal any faster on an incline, I could take in views which one would zip past in a car (like all the lovely houses and gardens I peered into!) and yet, on the other hand, reach places I would never be able to walk to.

Explore more places of Uttarakhand in- Disconnecting with the World on a Mountain Isle at Shaama

On the slow road, if you take a look around,there are stunners to be seen

We rode past the imposing FRI building sitting back in it’s expansive spread and it’s fairytale bungalows complete with green shutters and chimneys till IMA. Heard the marching practice and on the way back once overtook a learner on a Scooty minus her helmet (I guess according to her, her speed didn’t warrant the security of a helmet!) smack in the middle of the road oblivious to the jam in her wake. Zero for safety but full marks for confidence.
Our default setting became going on the Sahastradhara road to Raipur village through pockets of thick green cover of Sal and Mango trees near the Ordinance factory and then on towards either the airport or the road going up to Maldevata . The latter, initially, a one degree straight incline till it hit the hills. We saw jackals and their cubs scavenging by the roadside, not inclined to pose for a photograph. Towards the fag end of our cycling mornings, slowing down to give way to traffic we discovered at the end of Raipur the most beautiful ‘havelis’ with arched balconies, massive doors and in one, the most elaborate painted façade. Eye tonic early in the morning!

Discover more artwork in- Part Two- The Old Gold in Outstanding Orchha

Huffing and Puffing in a Cyclothon

We not only managed to participate in a cyclothon but also got our two minutes of fame when the photographs got published in the newspaper! Must be one of the shortest cyclothon (Thank god!) but with a killer route for people like us who are in the ‘whatever category there is before amateur mountain riders’. We were left eating dust in five minutes flat while the regulars, ranging from experienced twelve year olds to sexagenarians disappeared up the road towards Mussoorie. We cycled, got off and pushed the cycle, I realized it is smarter to be on one then be pushing it uphill! Repeated the cycle (Pun unintended!) till we reached half way at Kuthal gate. Then we cruised back on the old Rajpur road, which was mostly downhill, with me eyeing all the lovely houses enroute and going through my favourite patch of remaining jungle in Doon, with the fluttering Tibetan flags. Somewhere the husband asked why I was putting my brakes on the down slope. I wanted to tell him that we were touching nearly 40kms /hour on what is essentially a metal stick with wheels and with just a notion of protection on my head. Even if I had remembered to pack in the parachute I doubt it would deploy incase I overshot a turn and my landing would be hard, fast and over even before he could get his superman cape on.

Read about another cycling escapade in-Part One- On the Wild Side of Outstanding Orchha

April 18, 2019May 18, 2021

An Ode to Ancient Life in Stone- The UNESCO World Heritage Site of Ajanta & Ellora

The other day we went to the National Museum to catch an exhibition. While waiting in the foyer for the rest of the group to assemble we took a look around at some of the sculptures on display. (‘Whatever- o’clock- sharp’ is never sharp enough. Its always plus a few more minutes. Everybody, infact every place has it’s own ‘standard time’ and Indian Standard Time is almost always an approximation. I mean what are a few minutes when we talk centuries, nay, epochs in this ancient land! ) We see sculptures dating back to the 12th century. Wow! So old! 9th century. Oh my God! That’s ancient! 15th century. Hmm, okay. Behold the diminutive ‘Dancing Girl” in the Indus Valley Civilization section. 2500 BC. The very one whose pictures we grew up seeing in our school text books. Gobsmacked! Kindly stop gaping and move on to the next exhibit…

Explore another place in a time warp in- Part One- On the Wild Side of Outstanding Orchha

Although I don’t recall seeing any exhibit from the almost thousand year old Ajanta-Ellora cave complexes in the museum, my first memory of an Ajanta painting was when decades back, one exploratory afternoon while the adults took their siesta, I decided to investigate the contents the drawing-room in my grandfather’s house. The beautiful french-windowed room was tacitly out of bounds for us. Studying the pair of figures painted on cloth & framed, on either side of the windows, I recall finding them innocuously out of place in that mountainous setting. The mocha skinned, languidly posed couple with their strange hairdos & exotic clothing looked regal alright, but definitely not local. I wondered at their origins after my first art appreciation class of sorts. History lessons in school shed some more light in the years to come.

The Ajanta-Ellora caves despite being on the UNESCO World Heritage Site list have never featured in my list of go-to places. Maybe it’s something to do with caves…never been too enthusiastic about what one visualizes to be dark dingy places, never mind the treasures found within! But since we were in the vicinity & now as conscientious parents we feel the child must be exposed to history & art in it’s natural dwelling. So we set off early in the morning, to beat the heat that the stone cut caves start radiating even in winter, from Aurangabad, which is about 100 kms away. The old, tree lined highway is being widened & the way is littered with the remnants of the living history which is what I think trees are, exposing carcasses of roots, some the size of our vehicle. The end of an era of old canopied routes providing travelers with shade & succor in the pre-airconditioned days.

A short bus ride takes us from the parking near the Visitor Centre, which has been developed with Japanese aid, to the winding shallow gorge drained by the Waghora river where the caves have been carved out of the horseshoe shaped side of the gorge. It seems to preserve the immediate environs of the caves & adds to their aura of remoteness, although there is a full fledged restaurant ( Which we are more appreciative of at the end of our round of the caves!) loos and the ticketing counter near the caves, where we disembark.

An entrance cut into a jutting outcrop sets the mood right away as we make our way into the caves one by one. The initial caves seem to focus more on wall paintings & the latter on sculptures. There is a wide courtyard initially & the caves have elaborate, towering facades. They are not dingy! Where there is paucity of natural light, diffused lighting has been provided along with wooden flooring & railings in some as well. It all illuminates the luxuriant murals that cover every inch of the walls. The masterpieces of Indian art not only depict the life of Buddha & stories from the Jataka tales but are also a visual commentary on the life & times of the kings & other patrons of this entire endeavour. The guide points out the exotic visitors discernible by their different attire in the artwork, giving a glimpse of the intrepid travelers of yore. The ceilings are painted with elaborate motifs, the pillars are colonnaded and in some caves instead of Buddha’s statues there are perfectly symmetrical Stupas. Cave after cave has an aura of opulent celebration of life & of ascetic piety in equal measure & finally in Cave 1, I lay eyes on the original frescoes which inspired the copies on our drawing room wall. Here too, the masterpieces are on either side of the door to the inner sanctum giving a vague deja vu feeling. They are in parts sensuous & spiritual, utterly indolent…and now they have names – bodhisattva Padmapani & Vajrapani. Names as lyrical & flowing as the larger than life figures themselves…

Discover vivid and well preserved frescoes in –Part Two – The Old Gold in Outstanding Orchha

Bodhisattva Padmapani blooms serene in a sea of churning humanity

We take a breather in the cool veranda of the upper storey of Cave number 6 (Why are the stairs so steep in all these ancient stone structures? Absolute workout for the legs!) to replenish the child’s sagging energy & interest levels. Places like these can become too much to assimilate in one continuous go even for adults. As one tries to mentally teleport oneself back almost a thousand years to this bend in the river in the middle of a forested nowhere & visualize the painstaking chiseling to create, decorate the caves, the masters creating their art, the monks going about their lives here in the various Chaitya-grihas & Viharas centuries back, the antiquity & the magnitude of this cave complex gets more magnified. Its a strangely humbling experience.

Explore the monastery of Diskit in-Nubra Valley – Forging our own path

The hyphenated caves of Ajanta- Ellora are actually about 100 kms apart & in different directions from Aurangabad. The Ellora cave complex is about 30 kms from Aurangabad. After our sojourn to the Ajanta caves that evening we decide to visit the Biwi ka Maqbara in Aurangabad. We get hopelessly lost in this maze of narrow lanes because as we discover later the child has changed the GPS setting of the map to the shortest route & that is like I read somewhere, the fastest way to a place you don’t want to go to! I mean eventually we get to our destination & the lateness of the hour ensures that the full moon is out in it’s glory, swathing the monument in flattering light & making the entire place way more beautiful than what it must be in stark sunlight & enroute we make another discovery – bakeries with mounds of ‘naan’. After crossing the third one we can’t contain ourselves & have to stop but asking for two only gets us strange looks from men taking them home by the dozens. The piping hot ‘naans’ have the most distinctive taste & don’t need any accompaniments. Polished off in five minutes flat!

Looming larger than life seated on a lotus

The next morning we drive to the Ellora caves. The drive would have taken lesser time but for the traffic jam at an old gateway in front of the Daulatabad fort. It was clearly meant to handle the width of an elephant or two at the most but not today’s traffic or the erratic drivers! The route still has vestiges of the old route with old Banyans lining the road & the difference from the previous day’s drive is stark. We cross Aurangzeb’s final resting place & shops selling the famous ‘Himroo” fabric before going down the hillside which houses the Buddhist, Jain & Hindu caves which make up the Ellora cave complex.

Read about two other places with fine fabrics and history in- Mandu and Maheshwar in the Monsoon Mist

A vision of vitality occupying a whole wall

Its a short walk to the main Kailash temple at Ellora which seems to be the pièce de résistance of this place. No amount of reading up about the technical wizardry of it’s construction, the largest monolithic structure made top down cleaved from the hillside of basalt, can actually replace being there. As one walks through the entrance cut in the thick stone wall, the imposing structure hits you. All around grand gods imposing their literally larger than life presence, vitality in every pose take up all the space the rock walls can provide. The main structure is imaginatively carved with scenes from various mythological texts interspersed with plain rock so each one can be appreciated in it’s remaining entirety. But what blows my mind is this particular segment in the hall running in the hillside making up a natural wall around the main temple. It seems to depict a scene of an assembly of gods & goddesses. Seated as if partaking a ceremony in all their finery, the life sized figures seem to be frozen in stone exquisitely sculpted in fine detail. One particular slightly malevolent creature stands out sitting with feet firmly planted on a lesser mortal writhing below it, superbly carved showing all the frail mortality of man.

An assembly seemingly waiting for a breath of life

No book, photograph, painting or even the rich repository of some museum can bring out artwork in it’s accurate context unless experienced in it’s original surrounding. The whole place has a latent energy that dims the noise of the hordes of selfie-takers immersed in their own beauty. One leaves with a niggling feeling that maybe the gods were truly here.

March 27, 2019April 25, 2020

Disconnecting with the World on a Mountain Isle at Shaama

Room with a view of Nanda Devi & Nanda Kot

There are some places which, on the first visit, make such an impression that they have to be revisited again, to relive, reconfirm the magic that was woven the first time around; because once is not enough. The love affair that is ignited continues, the embers linger in the memory, waiting to be rekindled.

One such place is Shaama. The first visit had been as part of a trek to the Namik glacier. Each piece & place of that trip had been utterly memorable but the one place that took my breath away was Camp Shaama in the village of Gyandhura. If I had my way I would live on that ‘almost island’ in the mountains for ever. (Like so many horses we can’t ride, so many wishes waiting on the wings…) But since that doesn’t seem possible in the near future I contented myself with a brief break there.

This time we combine it with a visit to the Binsar Wildlife Sanctuary, which is just as well, because staying inside the sanctuary at the Kumaon Mandal rest house is a preview of things to come, for the ‘need to be connected’ big city companions – limited electricity which ensures a perforce weaning off from all gizmos & no running water either to boot. Though the staff is geared to provide the buckets of hot water (Making one feel like a ‘Burra sahib’ of old.) in the otherwise refurbished modern bathrooms (Fancy faucets pour out icy cold water only!) & the rooms are delightfully cozy with their wood paneling, there is no T.V, no room heaters, nada! Just this beautiful silence & deep darkness broken at sunrise by birdsong & the oohs & aahs of an appreciative crowd braving the morning chill on the terrace to see dawn breaking over the mighty peaks on the skyline. The days are spent exploring the various trails through the lush, moist silver oak forest sighting birds & the occasional deer.

Another place with a lot of trails is- Ranthambore Alert -Ticketing Trials and Tiger Trails

So after two days of detoxifying & disconnecting intermittently, one bar less at a time with the world outside, we get out of the sanctuary & set off for Shaama. The drive is leisurely as the roads are surprisingly empty almost. The mystery is solved when we are told that Holi, which is a round the corner, is not a one day affair in the hills & is celebrated in all serious fervor so most people come home for it. We witness a few scenes on the way back, of the ‘seriousness of the affair’, when we cross motley groups of men carrying their local deities around in palanquins, full of merriment & colour. The stragglers in the groups happily lurching around, high on colour & whatever else, trying to keep up as God & men make their way to greet other Gods in this colourful carnival. Thank god mountain folks still walk instead of driving around everywhere!

After Bageshwar we climb up & away on this gentle winding road, through a pine forest & cross the crest to the other side, more or less maintaining altitude now, getting a close view of the Nanda Devi massif peaks, enveloped in pristine white snow at this time of the year. We leave our vehicle at a hamlet & trek the last three odd kms on a narrow path, around this precarious, vertigo inducing corner ( The one speed-breaker enroute to paradise which slows down my steps & ups the heartbeat rate…all for the wrong reasons!) & behold – Camp Shaama, at the far end of the narrow spur that falls down dramatically on three sides into a sea of nothingness. We cross the few simple quintessential village houses set amidst the step fields of green wheat to reach the camp. It is set on this sliver of land seemingly floating so high up that one can barely see the Ramganga flowing down below on the north of the spur. On the east are the peaks near Munsiyari, on the south the world & on the north separated by just this deep narrow valley, the wall of the Nanda Devi massif & the Namik glacier. The dramatic setting offers a stunning almost 360 degree, to-die-for view!

The Karakoram mountains are right there in- Nubra Valley – Forging our own path

The beauty of the camp lies in it’s simplicity. There is a cookhouse on one side, doling out copious quantities of tea & piping hot pakoras & the most sublime food fresh off the land. A thatched structure has the place of pride right in the middle of the highest field, serving as the dining area & the place for congregating in the evening around a bonfire. A few stone & mud huts, each with a different yet fabulous view, scattered around on the lower fields make up the accommodation. I appreciate the fact that the camp ensures one communes with nature by keeping the facilities snug but simple. To lounge in a room in a locale like this would be a criminal waste. My absolute favourite is the washbasin holding on to the trunk of a tree in the washroom area. I can’t recall there being a mirror because I couldn’t take my eyes of the vista in front of me – the peaks visible through the trees, the birds flitting around the tree tops below…

Discover nature and hill food in- Barot -And the Serendipitous Catch in the Uhl River

We spend three days bedding down early, in time with nature’s clock & getting up at the crack of dawn to catch the sunrise & the most peaceful sight – the first rays of the sun casting a glow on the peaks while the deep valley is still in inky darkness. We tramp around the fields startling pheasants into flight, do a day trek to the spur on other side of the village feeling a bit like mountain goats minus the finesse, as we traverse narrow ledges at times. Go down the spine of the spur beyond the camp along a stone wall (Mountain people can give mountain goats a run for their money with their agility at times!) which divides two village lands, collect suspicious looking herbs( Which turn out to be fantastically aromatic but sadly nothing more!) read & soak in the view. The peaks dominate the panoramic setting, each one – Nanda Devi, Nanda Kot seem right there & they are! (Unless you are actually climbing up to them!) We have a run of the camp as it is still early on in the season. In the evening sit around the bonfire with warming drinks, totally disconnected by now from the world as there is no electricity in the camp so no phones! (No portable chargers. That would be cheating!)

No wonder when it is time to head back to the world below from this suspended idyll, the trek to the vehicle seems to get over too fast & the sounds of the phone coming back to life is cold comfort.

Fact File – Camp Shaama is run by Wildrift Adventures.

March 8, 2019April 25, 2020

Satiating Nostalgia Under the Winter Rain at Junia

The rain keeps up it’s intermittent pitter-patter as we make our way from Ajmer to Junia. Our hostess & driver for the journey, is a god-loving woman, who insists on driving right upto every temple door en route ( The word fear has been left to all the other drivers to deal with …. swerve/brake in her wake, as she suddenly spots a temple & rushes towards it! ) so that she & all of us along with her, can pay obeisance to the motley lot of deities by the road without getting our hair wet. Vanity trumping piety by just a bit. What it can’t beat is gluttony as we stop & hop across the mud at a dhaba to indulge ourselves in the famous ‘Kachora’ that Nasirabad is so famous for. The best ones I still feel are to be found at the Nasirabad railway station which we would have warm with piping hot tea whenever we would take the train on this route. The train would arrive there right at tea time. But nostalgia has it’s own appetite & so we indulge it with cold kachoras, warm kachoris & guavas from a scruffy looking fruit-seller across the road. The guavas beg to be eaten right away & they turn out to be even more delicious than the Chittorgarh ones, with a hint of tang chasing the crunchy sweetness that only unripened guavas have. So many winters I have sacrificed bits of teeth at the altar of love for this crazy fruit.

Discover Nasirabad’s world famous Kachora in- Nasirabad Kachora: More than a Savoury Story

The sun & wind chase the dark clouds & a beautiful rainbow towards the east as we follow the tail end of the clouds. I’ve always found winter rain to be utterly romantic.( Can listen to November Rain on loop! ) But lets not be narrow -minded about the definition of romance! It can be a delightful ménage à trois between my stomach & food accompanied by winter rain just there…in the background! We reach Junia, a tiny hamlet off the main grid in the Rajasthan circuit, with a small fort almost obscured by the surrounding houses. The narrow lane that leads to our destination has these houses with miniature haveli-like colourful facades. A turn in the lane ends at the gate of Amar Bagh, with the lake & a flaming sunset beyond. Just in time for a piping hot cuppa ready to be had with the remnants of the kachori-kachora on the patio.

The main house at the Bagh has been lovingly touched up & it still feels like a home away from home. ‘Jal Mahal’, the tiny ‘Lake Palace’ on the lake is as delightful as ever with it’s permanent residents, the old tiger heads & House Martins who come out every evening to put up a cacophonous show over the lake, water or no water. It is quite a sight with the setting sun as a backdrop as we sit on the patio by the lake. The perfect place for morning tea, evening tea, afternoon beer…heck, everything! I could spend my entire time there watching the hours unfold. A tree on one side of the floor provides a canopy with branches stooping so low as if seeking the water that is no longer there in the lake. The perils of progress, check dams nearby, seem to have reduced the water flowing into the lake which is a natural catchment for the extra runoff of the rains.

More stories of rain, lakes and palaces in- Mandu & Maheshwar in the Monsoon Mist

The next morning & every morning while I’m there we take a stroll in the Bagh, rediscovering old haunts. We go past the tiny Shiv temple, (Where years back I had discovered a small dead bat & wrapping it’s feet around my fingers had proceeded to scare the wits out of the kids around me.) & the magnificent old tamarinds near the ramparts, turn at the step-well (Where we would hang out along with the pigeons, blowing smoke circles into the air peacefully, safely away from twitching noses..) & the banyan guarding it towards the orchard that gives the place it’s name. I discover another step-well, this one with an arched entrance to the steps which is even more ornate. We walk back through the orchard of guavas & lime. The latter fruiting & flowering in equal measure giving the whole place the faintest whiff of sharp sweetness. Fresh & tart. Lunch is the most delicious ‘khata’ I’ve had in a while, perfectly thin & tangy ,true to it’s name, the way its done only in Rajasthan. Its turning out to be one gastronomical trip as in the evening while we warm ourselves around the bonfire, mutton is cooked on open fire by the man of the house. The ‘Laal maas’ made by Thakur Kishore Singhji has always been such a treat. The patience & heart with which he spends the hours required to cook it to perfection can be tasted in every bite. He tempers the fieriness for us & we wipe our plates clean leaving no trace of the perfect thick gravy. Poor Russel, the resident golden hunk doesn’t get more than one tiny morsel as reward for all the doleful looks he has been giving all evening patiently.

There are no traces of the clouds that rained down in the night the next morning & it’s blue & clear & we’re like beached whales still digesting a breakfast of more kachoris & khata, a combination I’ve had for the first time, & stuffed ‘mirchi bhajias’ all washed down with coffee. A surprisingly good fusion. Our reverie is broken by the clamour of jangling bells & the bleating of sheep & goats. A big herd is making the most of the dried lake which is like a grassy rolling meadow right now. Sheep can walk across the length of the lake without lifting their heads much like a lawnmower & they keep up the background din through the afternoon, the sounds occasionally blown away by the breeze. In the evening we visit the ‘chattri’ made in honour of the founding father of the clan. Like all warriors of old there are stories of battles & valor, of a heroic death & an exalted legacy to be followed & honoured.

Discover goats, rain and great food in ht hills this time in- Barot – And the Serendipitous Catch in the Uhl River

Its blissfully peaceful in the Shiv temple. The silver convertible Herald parked under the massive tamarind is long gone but the peacocks are still there in abundance, as skittish as ever & they scatter as we stroll through the bagh. Adulthood has given a quiet burial to a childhood dream of catching one of them. All the running around in the orchard back then would only culminate in spent energy & nothing more, thankfully. We return from our walk to find chilled beer, some more ‘laal maas’ to be had this time with ‘battis’ made by the gatekeeper. They’ve been made on smoked cow dung ( I know how that sounds but trust me that is as authentic as it gets! ) & then dunked, by the looks of it in a bucket of clarified butter, but by God! they are divine…crunchy on the outside & melt in the mouth inside! I mentally apologize to our home cook whose ‘battis’ I’ve thought till now to be the ultimate but these are a notch above. I request one to be saved for my journey back the next day since I’m stuffed till the gills right then but tomorrow is another day! After that leisurely lunch I want to crash out right there on the patio but manage to crawl into my bed somehow. The breeze has taken a breather that night & we have a bonfire outside the main house. There is some company today from the village, rugged sun kissed faces glowing in the fire light, talking about the produce of the season, local politics & village matters & I struggle to follow the cadences of the local lingo & give up, just soaking in the mellifluousness flowing around the crackling fire.

The last morning dawns cloudy & windy & there is rain en route to Jaipur. We stop for one last feast of roadside pakoras although my ‘batti’ has been duly packed along. I quash my reluctance to have fried roadside food & dig in. They are sassy, as only freshly fried, piping hot pakoras can be with bits of coriander & fennel around the chilli, surprisingly not hot at all. Literally saying ‘don’t be uppity!’ Who would want to leave this idyllic life, food heaven & head to the city?! Even ‘Anokhi’ with it’s inviting cafe, coffee aroma wafting around isn’t enticing enough when one is fully fed up, belly full with the delectable charms of Junia.

Find other place to have coffee in- The Gardens of Delhi – A walk not only on the green side but through history itself

February 19, 2019April 25, 2020

Barot – And the Serendipitous Catch in the Uhl River

I’ve been asked why I haven’t written about Dharamsala, my hometown, as yet. I say, very selfishly, that I don’t think Dharamsala can take any more people & I wouldn’t want to contribute to its transient population even an iota. It is no doubt breathtakingly beautiful with the Dhauladhars giving an ethereal backdrop to a sweeping panorama that is the Kangra valley but as is the problem with all hill stations, popular or obscure, there are just too many tourists, an urbanization explosion & almost no waste disposal mechanism. It all either goes down the slope or into a stream. With this toxic cocktail on every mountain top & valley one needs to find places off the grid to get a clean green high.

So during one such visit home we decide we need to get far from the maddening crowds at Dharamsala. A visit to Barot valley is long overdue so some phone calls are made. We had planned a trip there sometime back… actually more like couple of decades back! But the trip had to be cancelled last minute because some big-wig decided to go for an angling trip & given that at that time there was limited government accommodation available & that too strictly by pecking order, we were given a short shrift. (Not only appropriated our idea but our rooms too! We never forgave the nameless holiday saboteur!) The best accommodation is still with the governments – Punjab’s & Himachal’s. So be it the FRHs (Forest Rest House) or the Hydel project guest rooms with their prime locations, booking is still a chancy affair if someone in Chandigarh or Shimla decides to breathe some fresh air. Still..we managed rooms in the FRH.

So after a rather winding drive through the picturesque Kangra valley, making halts at Andretta to see the art gallery of the famous artist Sir Shobha Singh & the pottery studio run by Mansimran Singh & the tea factory of Palampur ( I love the tea grown in Palampur. It is not for everyone – a very exacting tea that requires all your attention while brewing. The reward being the most divine smokey flavoured tea but one additional minute of seeping & it turns wrathfully acidic & bitter.) we stop for the night at Bir. It has a special place in my heart. More on that another time. The next morning after a long walk through the village followed by a hearty breakfast we start for Barot. We have a word with the caretaker again (once bitten…!) & are told that lunch would be catered for & the menu mentioned makes everyone’s mouth water. If there is one thing better in the mountains than the greenery around, it is the delectable greens in the plate. Throw in that chicken on the side &…aah..bliss! We cross the Funicular trolley track in all it’s gravity defying angle near Jogindernagar to take the turn off the highway for Barot. The trolley was commissioned when the construction of the Shanan Hydel project started. It is still in some sort of use this side of the slope but on the other, near Barot, it looks decidedly neglected.

More food tales from the hills in- Disconnecting with the World on a Mountain Isle at Shaama

We take a break after climbing a bit at a turn with a bus stand and flat ground. There is a massive Chinar tree & a herd of the biggest goats I’ve ever seen with shaggy coats & twisted horns, more satyr than goats, resting under the deodars & I marvel at their good genes & diet. We chance upon this clearing with the barest remnants of a bungalow which would be anyone’s dream house location even now.

Read about a run in with another goat in- Pangong Tso – The Gems in the Crown

The rest of the journey till Barot is on a narrow road along river Uhl, lively & frothing over boulders. The valley itself is curvy, sylvan with pines which give way to the mighty deodars, with ripening wheat in the lower & fallow potato fields in the upper regions. The dam dominates the centre of town & a narrower valley heads off on the right from town towards Lohardi & the snowy reaches of Bara Bhangal. The road suddenly seems to be a mud track towards the upper end of town near the FRH. We are told that two nights back there had been a cloudburst & it has taken down a huge portion of a stream, corners of couple of buildings, the wall & one sewage pit of the FRH & deposited bits & pieces all along the road as a warning to all those who cross that nature must be respected with a capital ‘R’.

Discover another river that runs wild in- Nubra Valley – Forging our own path

In a comedy of errors we discover that the FRH & more pertinently the lunch we have been talking about is actually across the range back at Bir & still awaiting our arrival! It is not this one with it’s slightly cantankerous incharge & there is no chicken or greens waiting to be had definitely. But thankfully this one is empty & we are grudgingly given beautifully wood paneled rooms by the harassed caretaker who is busy trying to get the swanky loo going which is a no-go courtesy the cloudburst. Fortunately there is a decent though basic room available in the adjoining homestay. As we settle down the weather packs up again with a vengeance & we are left praying that an encore is not in the offing. The sound of heavens opening up on a tin roof is, if nothing else, deafening.

The next day dawns scrubbed & sparkling & there is something to be said about the smell of deodars after the rains. It is as invigorating as it is sensual. The valley is preening it’s luminescent greenery. We spend the next two mornings & evenings discovering the walking paths to the villages tucked away in the higher reaches, stopping to chat with women getting their potato fields ready. We give up any pretense of walking & flop down on the edge of the fields to watch the valley spread below as we ruminate on life. The days are spent by the stream (For some reason still marked as the Uhl only.) going up to Lohardi, angling with picnic lunches thrown in. We hire the rod & other paraphernalia there itself but decline the help of a guide as there are self professed experts in the group. We catch nothing more than a certain fervor for the activity! The only thing on the menu for us is the local trout & thankfully the locals are better at hooking the fish than us because left to us, we would have been on a starvation diet. We feast on sumptuous fresh catch everyday at the small eateries near the FRH. Though the weather generally packs up in the afternoon, a common enough phenomena during summer, we take a drive up the Lohardi road & walk up to this village across the stream. There is a kul ( The water channel system in the hills.) & a flour grinding contraption powered by it. We see the snow clad Bara Bhangal heights through a misty veil of rain heading in our direction.

Rain and food are a great combination like I found in-Satiating Nostalgia Under the Winter Rain at Junia

The last morning of our stay & we are all loaded to head back & I am chatting with the proprietor of this restaurant, who I’ve noticed earlier tipping all the waste into the river right in front of his place. He bemoans the lack of any coherent disposal system ( True. Sadly.) & I try to give him a pep talk on self help because no one wants to come to a see a nullah (stream) turned nallih (drain) no matter how pristine the setting! The onus of preserving the scenic environs is on the locals as much as on us. I head across the road to the edge of the river where he has put out some tables under these sun umbrellas. Suddenly I spy this old lady & I mean old, bent, leaning on a half a twig passing for a stick type, on the slip of a bank below the wall lining the river. She seems to be getting into the river. I watch aghast as she gets into the water trying, it seems, to ford across the shallows. She slips, tries to get her footing but flounders. I am shouting & running towards her. She seems to be getting swept away right before our eyes! I am overtaken by this strapping young cop who till now had been lounging & reading a newspaper on a chair nearby. He is down the wall & into the water in a heartbeat, fishing the old lady out along with some locals & us. She is carried up, handed a hot cuppa & given a gentle chiding by the cop who tells her that there are saner & safer ways of getting across. Phew! That has been unnerving…

As we hit the road crowded with the monster goats, we marvel at the tiny valley packing a punch – comedy, high drama, blissful tranquil moments & the serendipitous catch saved for the last!

Fact File – A permit is needed for fishing in the Uhl from the Fisheries Department. It is available at a nominal amount. The person hiring out the rods generally helps in getting one.

January 24, 2019April 28, 2020

Ranthambore Alert -Ticketing Trials and Tiger Trails

It amazes me..still! I’m not talking about the tiger.( He made a rather tiny cameo appearance, more like a peek-a-‘butt’ literally, much later in the story.) I mean it shouldn’t. Its not like I took a break from the country & have come back to discover that the separation did no good to the systems here! Its like we want to embrace technology but are afraid that the coupling will produce something worthwhile, so we stop before finishing the good job! But enough of the griping & on to the raison d’etre; the facts & story behind it.

So, we decided to do this ‘clan’ holiday &, as is with all clan issues I suspect, it went back & forth till the last minute. The final toss up was between Pench & Ranthambore. I din’t care as long as I got to see the tiger, a long cherished dream. To see one in the wild….ah! If it even looked at me I would want to hug it probably! And what a bad idea that would be! Providence has ensured against that eventuality. So Bandipore, Corbett & now Ranthambore National Park done and all I’ve got to tell is about this hint of a tiger’s butt, artfully framed by the bushes!

Read about our other wildlife escapade in- Part One- On the Wild Side of Outstanding Orchha

In our short trip to Ranthambore we went for two safaris, one in zone 5 & the other in zone 6. Zone 6 was first & in the afternoon. It was beautiful – open, rolling countryside, winding streams, spread out trees with enough prey base of the tiger in sight. You say it we saw them all, Bluebulls, Spotted deer, Chinkara (Indian Gazelle) & Sambar deer including one rubbing its antlers on a tree right off the road, tufts of grass hanging on them, oblivious to everything but his itch! Although we had been warned that the two almost grown up cubs – Jai & Veeru (The legend of ‘Sholay’ lives on!) had recently moved out of the zone, we managed to catch a glimpse of sleeping ‘Kumbha’ right at the end of the zone. He was so well camouflaged between a boulder & these bushes I wonder who spotted him first. He din’t even deign to acknowledge the loutish crowd of humans with a raised head & dirty look. We would have settled for anything! The best bit for me, besides the animals & the scenery was that I got to sit right in front along with the driver since there was no guide in the Canter & we had some pretty interesting conversation. But they all are like F1 drivers once the job is done!

Read about finally sighting another animal in- Chushul – Chumathang – Hello Indus & Iridescent Colours!

Even in Zone 5 the next morning the driver did not let up as we raced around chasing the elusive ‘Laila’ seen moments before by this Canter load of people with Cheshire grins. All the other animals, Sambars with magnificent antlers, wild boars et al fell by the way side. Zone 5 is a narrow valley mostly with a swampy lake, rocky streams & massive old banyans with their roots thrown down far & wide. We spent a lot of time listening to the ‘call’. The sign of a tiger in the vicinity. The colours of fall, shades of orange & yellow are so deceptive & play tricks on hopeful minds.

Now to the facts which needed to be dealt with before the trip-

1.All the bookings for the Ranthambore tiger safari are only online now on a first come first serve basis.(Hurrah!) But the number of vehicles being allowed inside per day has been capped.(Understandable I guess)

2.You need to book online sufficiently in advance ( Online booking now can be done a year in advance), especially if you only want a gypsy & want only particular zones.(There are 10 zones & 1-5 are considered the core zones. There are ample sightings in the others too.) In some zones only gypsies go.

3.But, & this is the part that totally confounds me & seems to defeat the purpose of online booking is that, you still need to go Shilpgram (Where the ticket office is) once you are there in Sawai Madhopur, to collect your physical ticket (Must give ID proof…again!) get the vehicle & driver’s number, give the pick up point ,i.e, your hotel address.(That is the upside in a sense, unless your co-passengers are in a hotel across town. Then you go on one sight seeing trip in town & it eats into the safari timing.) The end result is that you need to get in line at the Shilpgram nonetheless or give about 100/-rupees extra per person to some tout/your hotel to have them collected, despite doing everything online. (Big bummer!)

4.For the afternoon safari, it has to be done the same morning and for the morning safari it can be done the evening prior but the vehicle & driver’s number will still be intimated in the morning only. (Nerve racking!)

5. DIY people’s link guide – http://www.tourism.rajasthan.gov.in/plan.html (This is the fairly new site with the dancing mustache/camels.) You will need to open an a/c to do your booking online. There is an entire pdf to help you through within the same site.

6.Lazy/Confused people’s guide – The hotel where you stay might still do your booking for a premium of course but they too will have to collect them hours prior to the safari.

7.Keep those IDs handy. They are checked at the entrance of the park sometimes.

We got lucky while booking as a cousin planned her trip right before ours. They got lucky because they saw Jai & Veeru, a sloth bear with her cub & a well-fed panther!! Maybe there is a karmic quota for sightings & not just for vehicles & tickets….

January 18, 2019January 11, 2022

The Gardens of Delhi – A Walk Not Only on the Green Side but Through History Itself

Although Delhi deserves the rap it gets for its abysmal air quality, it does have these pockets of redemption where one can peacefully, & I’m not saying quietly (Peace being a state of mind & quiet..well a totally different thing! ) or very healthily still, inhale & then inhale some more. Exploring the gardens is not only a walk on the green side but, in a lot of the gardens in Delhi, a walk through history. There are many where the the monuments not only sit pretty in their manicured surroundings but have immense historical value. Although not laid out like the Mughal gardens of say Srinagar, they have a certain charm to their meandering layouts. The most beautiful bit is that in every season one sees some or the other tree flowering.

Discover a special tree in- Mandu & Maheshwar in the Monsoon Mist

The remains of a long lost stream in Lodhi garden

My favorite for all the seasons & reasons of the heart is the Lodhi garden. Back in the pre-pollution days it used to be my evening dose of fresh air. It has the octagonal tomb of Mohammed Shah, circa 1440, on a mound looking imposing. The Bara Gumbad with its adjoining remains of a mosque faces the Shisha Gumbad. Both straddle the middle of a mildly undulating path. A miniature walled park within the park complete with its own pint sized monument sits close to these two, housing a rose garden. One of my favourite part is the stone bridge at the end of the pond, near the geese enclosure. It arches gracefully, just so. Poetic place to watch the sun go down over the battlements surrounding the tomb of Sikandar Lodhi dating back to the 15th century. The other is the slope between the Bara Gumbad & the pond. The perfect place to relive one’s childhood & take a roll down. Not that the gradient will let you get too far! In spring this portion is a sea of colours & the place to have a picnic, sun yourself, watch couples get their pre-nuptial photo-shoot or catch the odd powers-that-be re-energize themselves with their daily doze of Vitamin D & power walk.

If you manage to get past the quaintly eclectic village of Hauz Khas & its enticing eateries & tony shops you’ll see the picturesque tank of the Hauz Khas park. The “Deer park’, as it is often called, is a bit of a misnomer. It is actually a complex of adjoining parks which surround the village. There is a deer park (Yes they are safely parked at one enclosed end! ) & a rose garden at the entrance of the village. At the end of the village lies the Hauz Khas fort park. A small complex with ruins dating back to the 12th century & includes the tomb of Firoz Shah Tughlaq & a seminary & ‘chattris’. This overlooks the massive tank made by Alauddin Khilji ( The same one, made more infamous by the movie Padmavat. ) at the end of the 12th century & is now part of the district park. A wide promenade encircles this where one can sit, sip coffee & watch the world go by or go to one of the eateries overlooking the lake at night & behold the moon shimmering in the water.

Read about famous Chhatris in- Part One- On the Wild Side of Outstanding Orchha

A modern Pavilion at the far end with an ancient wall behind it sum up the idea of Sunder Nursery aptly

The newest entrant on the green bloc sits quietly, thankfully, yet to be discovered. It’s much older & famous neighbour hogs the crowds, as it should, having been lovingly restored to such breathtaking glory. But once you are done with Humayun’s tomb, the Sunder Nursery adjoining it is a must visit. The Sunder Burj housed within & being an active old nursery lend it it’s name. Dating back to the 16th century it has recently been reclaimed & restored & it has to be seen to appreciate all the hard work. The Sunderwala Mahal shines bright, all scrubbed & cleaned. Done on the lines of a Mughal garden with water channels, ponds, tiny waterfalls & pavilions, its a fantastic take of the old on clean contemporary lines. It also houses a massive collection of bonsai. Although still to be completed on the far fringes, come spring it will be a melange of colour true to it’s name. A celebration of being alive again. Agha Khan Trust take a bow!

Nehru Park has no monuments but it makes it here purely for nostalgic reasons. Decades back it used to be our Sunday outing sometimes & we always seemed to get ice-creams at the end. It reminds me of a sleeping dinosaur with the spine running in the center & the rest of the park falling on either side & the various folds holding the slopes of rolling green with these rocky outcrops here & there. Set in the heart of the diplomatic enclave it is often the venue for some amazing cultural performances & mean gastronomical festivals. So its good for either, eating your heart out or burning it off on the undulating slopes!

This by no means is an exhaustive list. There is the Mughal Garden within the Rashtrapati Bhavan premises which is open to the public in February. The Buddha Jayanti park on The Ridge, an extension of the Aravallis which are beyond historical themselves. Likewise there are many swatches of green embellished with pieces of history in Delhi waiting for us to put that coffee thermos in the rucksack, get those walking shoes on & spend a languid few hours in the sun exploring them.

Discover another place to sit and sip that coffee in- Part Two – The Old Gold in Outstanding Orchha

December 21, 2018April 25, 2020

Chushul – Chumathang – Hello Indus & Iridescent Colours!

The wet land we hit within minutes of leaving Tangsey would be a birder’s paradise in warmer months. There is a village on the far side as we drive eastwards on the barest incline & cross corrals of goats & yaks grazing. The herders seem to be throwing down roots. The road winds it’s way up in the perfect U- shaped valley at a leisurely pace along a marshy stream that seems to lose its purpose & direction & seems to muddle along, going in the opposite direction to the lake left behind. We spot a marmot or two, the first of the distinctive Bar Headed geese & Brahminy ducks & for the others I spotted I’d need the expertise of a bird book or/& and a birder!

At the crest we realize it has been quite a climb because the other side is a loopy way down. The village of Chushul has the feel of an outpost – dusty & worn out. The first of the two Chushul War memorials outside the village stand as sentinels, guarding the memories of the fierce battles fought here, man against man, man against nature. The road had disappeared many miles back & an apology of a track hugs the range on the Indian side. You can take off in any direction, its so flat, & it would feel the same… mildly bumpy! Soon we hit a rocky stream of melting snow looking slightly impassable. We go downwards to cross it only to realize that the lack of rocks has made it too boggy to cross. There is nary a soul to rescue us in case we get stuck. So we go up along the stream & finally gingerly rock & roll our way across! We come across a deserted campsite, or so we think till we see this massive dog run in our direction. What a beauty! He gives chase, running along, not looking like he reciprocates the love…

Discover more wildlife in- Ranthambore Alert -Ticketing Trials and Tiger Trails

The multi-hued mountain that creates a bend in the river

We go over a rise & on the other side we get a close up look at a herd of yaks, most camera unfriendly. The track now has the most amazing tourmaline pink colour to it. The valley is broad & pebbly, so wide, flat & straight I can imagine those herds of wild ponies on a full gallop here. We seem to heading straight towards this multi-hued mountain on a road now (They’re have a mind of their own here, the roads..suddenly they are there & just as suddenly they decide they’ve had enough of travelling!) which seems peppered with turquoise stones. The kind that one finds in the silver trinkets in Leh. I can’t get over these iridescent roads! We near the mountain & there is a stream skirting it’s base. The road turns & we leave the wide valley & the imaginary horses. The stream accompanies us, meandering, creating huge wetlands & we spy pairs of Brahminy ducks & the first of many Kiangs! Finally!! It looks nothing like the donkey from my first trip. There is a campsite of herders on the other side. As we near Nyoma the stream reveals its full form as the Indus. But here it is still winding its way leisurely, gathering power, not yet intent to get going. The valley is wide, sweeping & as sandy as the Thar. It looks like the background of a Thangka painting. The hills keep up the play of colours intermittently, now burnt pink, now mossy green, the dullest mauve. By the time we reach Chumathang it has been a long, slightly bone-rattling haul & I am grateful for the steaming hot spring water soak at the end of it all. Now that & the brandy that followed are the way to end a road trip.

Now that it is all coming to a close, I wish I could start all over again. The solitude has been profound & a most welcome change. Even Leh seems crowded now! Each valley has had a distinct feel to it, its own character. The colour palette so rich & full, the sweeping vistas &, in our case even the meager wildlife have been a visual feast. The next trip is on the cards….

Read about the very first trip in- The First Visit

December 19, 2018April 25, 2020

Pangong Tso – The Gems in the Crown

Take some deep sapphire, the kind that costs a fortune. Take some emerald. Add a dash of coral. Crush it. Toss it all in the air & what you see shimmer & glint in the sun, is what you should expect at Pangong Tso. The colours & hues shifting, altering – lightening or deepening depending on where the sun catches them. The water so clear & yet, the colour so intense that, the stones in the water are barely discernible.

The narrow winding valley from Tangsey which opens into the expanse of Pangong Tso is like a collection of short stories itself. The first one starts with a grassy vale & a winding stream. To complete the picture there is a family of fat Chukars. There seem to be no other kind! On the far side we spy an orangish-silver fur ball hopping. Its a fox! With a magnificent tail (The kind I can imagine draped around my shoulder with the PETA kind baying for my head for just having such a sinful thought! Oh well! You keep your tail fox & I, my head.) trying to coax it’s evening snack out of the ground. We can’t make out in the end whether it trots off in disgust or triumph.

Then after a short drive there are some ponies with gorgeous manes & swishing tails.( No sinful thoughts now.) We’d been told that there are some herds of wild ponies still left. But sadly these are not those. A few huts nearby confirms their tame status.

Then we hit upon a patch which seems lumpy & there are these tiny mounds in the boggy looking ground. We see one toothy marmot sunning itself. It has to be a crazy animal! It lives underground, in damp looking places in that cold! Our driver does’t let us share our parathas with it. (We sound like “Those Terrible Tourist Type’.) ‘Don’t spoil his habits’, we are told by the environmentally enlightened driver. There are these goats grazing nearby & suddenly one comes running with great interest. So it is the lucky one to get the paratha. It is convinced there are more on offer & after nosing around (Not butting thankfully) our pockets it decides to get into the vehicle & help itself since we are clearly not obliging it anymore. A quick slamming shut of doors doesn’t deter it & it is ready to hop in through the open window! Never doubt the tenacity of a hungry goat.

Read about another place with monster-sized goats in-Barot and the Serendipitous Catch in the Uhl River

Finally we get our first glimpse of Pangong Tso after crossing this big dried pond. Are those colours possible?! There we are at one end of the lake. The famous ‘Garnet hill” on one side. I don’t know if it has anything left to justify it’s name. A few Brahminy ducks & gulls in the shallows of the lake. The gulls are riding the icy wind every now & then, squawking. Some enterprising fellow has hauled a red scooter near the water for the people to get photographed on. A hangover of ‘3 Idiots’ I presume..

Ahead we find a path going down to the lake. The colours turn translucent up close. There is an orangish tinged shallow on one side, separated from the main lake by a sand bar. On the eastern side it is all blue. Its a colour so intense & I can’t recall having seen it anywhere before. Not just a ‘blue’ but all the shades in the palette. Is there a hint of green too? The shading made more intense because of the bland, bare hills around….sigh! I wish I was an an artist. We just sit by the lake & soak in the colours as the breeze blows madly at times. Just a little longer…There going to be a full moon that night & I can only imagine how magical it will look…

Discover more colours of Ladakh in- Chushul -Chumathang – Hello Indus & Iridescent Colours!