India - Part 3

After spending a week in the south of India during the monsoon I flew 2000km north to the little town of Leh, Ladakh; tucked in between the Hilamalayas to the south, China to the east, and Kashmir to the west.

Having spent six weeks in India already and with only a little over four weeks remaining on my Indian visa—I was running out of time to see many of the famed destinations in the north of India.  Taking a flight to Leh maximised the value for my flight by getting me as far north as possible without leaving India.  From Leh, I could then bus (or train) south to many of the places in the north.

I had wanted to see Kashmir also, but there was political instability and random outbreaks of violence in the region.  I had to leave this off the list.

I decided upon Leh without much thought actually.  Lonely Planet called it “Laid-back Leh”, and it sounded nice and seemed relatively close to many of the destinations in the north... so why not?

So from an altitude of sea-level in Goa, I flew to Leh.  A stunning journey over the snow-capped peaks of the eastern Himalaya, and landing in Leh – at an altitude of 3520m above sea-level. 

view of the Himalayas on the flight into Leh

After missing Leh on the first approach, the pilot did a loop to make a second attempt at the precarious descent into the deep Leh valley.  Skilfully and gracefully, the plane spiralled down into the valley, and the mountains already began to tower high above the plane on either side of us for quite a while as we gradually and carefully descended onto the tarmac.

The landscape was barren and alien-like; tall scraggy hills of dry tumbling scree topped by distant alpine peaks adorned with a thin blanket of cloud.  The valley is mostly a dusty greyish brown of dry dirt and gravel with very little flora.  The local farmers and villagers however, carefully use the little available snowmelt to irrigate tall poplar trees, barley fields and vegetables; giving the valley pockets of green and yellow.

A closer inspection reveals many other colours; the camouflage and khaki of the very visible military presence; and, the blues, yellows, reds, greens and whites of the Buddhist temples, prayer wheels and flags.   The call to prayer of the Islamic temples echoes far and wide throughout the peaceful valley, creating a somewhat eerie, yet also holy and grand feeling for this gentle town at the top of the world.

Barley fields, Leh

The World Peace Pagoda, Leh

The mountains as viewed to the south of Leh

Leh Valley

Indeed, Leh is an intriguing place!  Hardly many traditional Indian faces from south of the Himalaya are seen here amidst mostly Tibetan and Kashmiri refugees, plus a noticeable amount of tourists who’ve come to witness the spectacle first hand or to try out some high-altitude activities.  What amazes me about the Leh is the way in which Buddhism and Islam seem to coexist in harmony... it really is like another country altogether again!

As I arrived in Leh, the locals were just getting to their feet after an unusually large amount of rain caused a huge mudslide that took 300 lives as well as many homes, roads and farms.

I stayed at the home of a very friendly traditional Tibetan family who farmed their own vegetables and grain using manure and compost, including nutrient dense material from their kumot (a pit-style composting toilet).  They gave me thermos’ full of home-grown organic chamomile tea to help me to acclimatise to the altitude for the first day while I rested. And I also enjoyed many delicious organic vegetarian meals cooked in the traditional way in their very basic kitchen.  Living with this family was very humbling for me, and also reaffirmed my love and appreciation of sustainable communities and permaculture farming.

Western toilet at the rear, kumot at the fore (pun intended)

Guesthouse where I stayed.  Their potato patch is in the foreground.

Once I took a day to acclimatise to the altitude I explored the town, visited the temples, ate in local restaurants, did a little shopping, went to see the Leh Palace, the Tsemo Fort and the World Peace Stupa.  I also hired a mountain bike for a day and to get some exercise and just have a look around.

In the street, Leh

World Peace Pagoda, Leh

Leh Palace

Dried dung piled on top of a shed for burning in the winter

Islamic Masjid, Leh Palce (behind) and Tsemo Fort (upper right), Leh

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It’s all so charming.  Little barley farms, cows roaming the lanes, mud brick walls and houses, stupas and shrines here and there, and souvenir shops selling Kashmiri and Tibetan craft, clothing and jewellery.  The smells in the air are of incense, manure and spinach crops. It was cold at nights, but warm during the day – much like Canberra back in Australia during the winter.  It is a very beautiful place that was definitely worth visiting to appreciate the harmony that has manifested amidst the most adverse of situations.

While absorbing the chilled-out vibe of Leh I took stock of my trip up to that point and thought about how I would spend my remaining five weeks in India.  There was much to see and not enough time—so I plotted a rough map and a list of desired destinations before heading off again... this time about 250km (as the crow flies) south, back through the Himalaya to Manali.

There were only two ways to get there – a 6000 rupee flight back to Delhi, and then a bus to Manali, or a 2000 rupee ‘bus-safari’ through the precarious mountain passes.  Given the obvious financial advantages of the latter—and because of my strong stomach and wild sense of adventure, I opted for the latter...

The shaky little mini-bus with a cracked windscreen departed Leh in the dark early hours of a Saturday morning.   Ahead of me and my thirteen companions was a 36 hour, knuckle-whitening journey!

At what some would say was an alarming pace, the driver very skilfully drove the mini-bus through many dramatic and adverse landscapes on mostly gravel roads that had begun to fall away in parts due to the unseasonably heavy rain.  The road often clung to a steep mountainside; on one side of the bus there was a gut-wrenchingly deep ravine by which the bus’s trusty tyres perilously rolled literally centimetres from the edge; on the other-side, a ridiculously high-wall of rock, that was not so secure, evidenced by the truck-size boulders that the bus had to often squeeze past on the already narrow road!  Yes – I was almost shitting my pants most of the way and many of my fellow passengers were ill due to the combined factors of altitude and the unrelentingly wild and rickety motion of the bus.

The road was open... just.  We manoeuvred passed many huge trucks along the way, as well as other jeeps traversing the only road into Ladakh from India.  There were waterfalls running over the road, and at some places there were long muddy bogs where traffic was held up for hours by over-loaded trucks that had gotten stuck!

While I held on for dear life, I was also blown away by the dramatic scenery; huge mountains, deep chasms and raging rivers.  Would I live to tell the tale?  Obviously!  Here I am loading you up with more descriptors than my word processors’ thesaurus!

The first day we were on the road for fourteen hours before we stopped into a little bhavan in a town called Darcha.  I enjoyed a meal of chapatti and dal, and a beer with my fellow passengers from the three minibus convoy.  We shared our photos and recollections of the day before we were invited to share a whisky with the drivers of the bus.  One whisky turned into many as two 700ml bottles of very drinkable Royal Stag whisky were consumed quite quickly before the party unceremoniously retired by 9.30pm to the makeshift beds within the dining area of the bhavan!

At 6.30am we nervously laughed through the hangover as our drivers prepared for the last leg of the journey.  The hangovers were helped away by the soft green scenery that became more beautiful as we moved closer toward Manali.

After another exhausting and hazardous day on the road, by 5pm I was finally enjoying my first hot shower in 7 weeks (since Malaysia) at a charming little guesthouse in Old Manali.  The friends I had made on that journey became accomplices in debauchery in this very cute and comfortable tourist hub which is mostly frequented by Israelis. By night, we enjoyed lively evenings on the porch of the guesthouse, playing cards and drinking yet more Royal Stag whisky!

By day, we explored the picturesque valley of wild rivers, pine trees and fresh air.  The lure of nature’s beauty is the main attraction in Manali.  On one of the days we took a taxi to Solang Nullah, a ski-resort during the winter, but equally as exciting the rest of the year with horse-riding, zorbing, quad-biking and para-gliding on the list of options for entertainment. We spent half an hour on the quad-bikes, a couple of hours horse-riding, and the rest of the day taking a demanding hike up to the amazing Rahalla falls.  It was quite an action-packed and eventful day – to say the least.

Quad-biking, Solang Nullah

Sadhu, Vashist

Rahala waterfall, near Vashist

Hangin at the guest house with a few Royal Stag's, Manali

Horse-riding, Solah Nullah

So after five pleasure-filled days in Manali, it was time to venture off on my own again, and knock off a few more spiritual hotspots on my list in India; Dharamsala (Mcleodganj), Rishikesh, Haridwar and Varanasi.