“In 20 years, you will be more disappointed by
what you didn’t do than by what you did.”
-
Mark Twain
I don’t quite remember when but sometime in the middle of our eighth
semester, Mehta floated the idea of a trip to Ladakh during the vacations. But
what I do remember is despite being a classic over thinker, my immediate
response was, “Yes! Let’s do this!”. So it was decided, me , Mehta, Singh and
Nihlani were to be the four amigos on this trip to far north. We were to leave
the day our pediatrics posting ended, 15th of june. As the days
passed, postings changed, my excitement scaled new peaks. I had regretted
missing on a Ladakh trip last year with Sahil, Ahuja and Rahul, but I sure as
heck was not going to miss this one.
June 15
The day finally arrived! I had spent the better part of the previous day
getting the backpack ready (well, it was more of an oversized schoolbag),
making lists, the first aid kit, charging and getting the cam ready, packing
toilet paper (you can never take chances on that), losing the list, making new
list and yes studying a little for the assessment. It was around 4:30 in the
evening when we finally got free and headed back to the hostel, drenched in
sweat but filled with verve. Our bus was to leave for Manali at 7:00 pm. After
the chhola bhaturas and tasty samosas that we had in Nihlani’s
room, it was time to bid adieu to our friends and head to the metro station.
Getting away from this dusty heat would feel so good. Despite almost losing
Singh to the mob at Rajiv Chowk, we managed to stick together. To our dismay
the bus to manali left from a spot about a mile from where we had emerged.
Chirping along, we were so thrilled that we forgot we were carrying around 20
kg of luggage with us. After taking a couple of wrong lanes, we finally reached
our bus just on time. A majestic Volvo B9R awaited us. Seat no.1, 2, 3 and 4,
lucky we had booked them early. Being able to stretch your legs all the way in
a 15 hour journey feels good. In came the driver and we were on our way. Our
journey had just started. The conductor decided to play the movie ‘Double
Dhamal’. It’s funny how you tend to enjoy slapstick comedies more when you are
not really using your brain much. I dozed off thinking about the first sight of
the hills.
I was woken up quite abruptly by Mehta. It was 10 pm.The bus had stopped
at a dhaba on the outskirts of Peepli. I used to love dhabas, but this one was
in a mess. It was chaos as around 300 people from other buses tried to squeeze
themselves in a place which could barely serve hundred. It looked like a
refugee camp. We would be lucky to have a proper meal. After about half an hour
of Singh and Mehta trying to place an order, food arrived and we pounced on it
like hungry wolves. We had hardly started when a fight broke out near us
between some people over something. Welcome to Haryana. Tummies full, we got
back in our ride and fell asleep. Late in the night the driver took a break, we
were in the hills! The sky was something
to stare at with all those countless stars all the way down to the horizon.
June 16
We had a good breakfast at Sundernagar at five in the morning. One could
feel the clean, fresh and cool mountain air with each breath. My lungs were
overjoyed. We moved on and reached Mandi and there for the first time emerged
the swift Beas river flowing deep in the gorge, bringing snowmelt from glaciers
around the Rohtang pass. The road became more tortuous but that did not deter
our driver who drove the bus as if driving on the DND expressway. By now we had
grown impatient. I was more curious about Singh though, who had been chatting
incessantly on the phone for half an hour. After crossing a couple of dams on
our way we finally reached Kullu, 40 km downstream from Manali, and after about
an hour, we were there, Manali! Nestled
in the valley between the snowclad peaks of Hanuman Tibba, Shikhar Beh and
Friendship Peak to the east and the mighty Indrasan to the west, Manali provides
beautiful views of the Pir Panjal ranges. It is a township bustling with life.
The Mall road was albeit a little underwhelming.
We couldn’t wait to collapse
on a nice cosy bed. Mehta and Singh went in search of a bargain leaving me and
Nihlani to guard our luggage. And they did get a good deal at Hotel Durga, our
place for the night. After admiring the mountains from the terrace, we planned
to rest for a couple of hours only to find that we had locked our room and left
the key inside. Despite Singh’s frantic attempts at picking the lock we had to
call the owner who obliged. After a nap we strolled down the main bazaar into
the serene Van Vihar containing hundreds of towering deodar trees growing by
the hasty stream of Beas. The evening was spent munching bhuttas on boulders at
the shore of the river. The thundering roar of the river with birds chirping
around was nature’s music to our ears. What to do next? It was Nihlani’s idea
to watch ‘Ferrari ki Sawari’ at the only theater of Manali, that too, a
9pm show. Having nothing to do, we went ahead with the plan. Even the ticket
seller was bemused to find tourists coming to watch a movie . We would soon be
cursing Nihlani for the agony and torment caused by the movie. Nevertheless you
always manage to have a laugh at such small mishaps in a trip. We went to bed
excited thinking about Leh.
 |
| Having bhuttas by river Beas. |
June 17
Next morning at 10 we were greeted by our driver Roshan lal Ji, a sturdy
Sikkimese man. We were surprised when he told us that he had been driving on
the Leh-Manali route for 35 years! He barely looked 40, but he was 56 years
old. Singh called shotgun and we settled in our comfortable Innova. We prayed
for good luck and good weather. Soon we found ourselves on the 479 km long Leh-
Manali Highway. Our next objective was the famous Rohtang Pass, 50 km from
Manali at an elevation of 3980m. We were thrilled to be nearing the snow line.
We made a steady climb through countless hairpin loops. Roshan Lal Ji slowed
the car near a waterfall and told us to stare down into the steep gorge. There
we saw a taxi hanging precariously by a tree. Couple of days ago the car had
skidded off the road, down into the gorge killing two tourists. The driver
miraculously had survived. It was a chilling site reminding us of the dangers
of travelling in the hills. We knew that the journey ahead would only get
tougher. Then we reached Marhi. Across us the hill was dotted with hundreds of
Tata sumos and other taxis at a standstill. Actually tourists visiting just the
Rohtang Pass are just allowed to leave at 8am and 12pm. We were relieved when
we were allowed to bypass them, although the tourists in the cabs must be
crying foul. We were now so close. There was snow around us, weather was
beautiful. We couldn’t wait to reach the top but to our dismay we had to stop in
our tracks. The road in the front had given away and a bulldozer was stuck on
the ledge, tilting dangerously towards a glacier ice field. With no hope of the
route opening any soon we left to trek around, crossing the snow and enjoying a
lovely panorama. To our content, a second bulldozer soon arrived and pulled the
first one out. There was a loud cheer from the people stuck for hours. And in
no time we were at Rohtang Pass. The pristine white snow had been trampled by
thousands of footfalls daily to form muddy ugly snow. We decided to cross and
stop only some distance ahead where normal taxis were not allowed. The road had
been carved through 20 feet of compacted snow. It felt as if we were navigating
a snow tunnel. We stopped to take a break. We had a fun time playing in the
snow and climbing to a very picturesque spot nearby. In front of us, across the
valley rose numerous snow clad peaks. We had taken acetazolamide tablets, but
we hardly had time for acclimatization and were panting heavily. The most fun
part was sliding down the slopes to the road below.
 |
| Panoramic view of peaks from Rohtang Pass. Our Innova can be seen in the bottom right corner. |
The road on the descent was
in pretty bad shape with melt water running down and eroding whatever that was
left. The trees were gone and we had arrived on the leeward side of the
mountains. These barren brown hills with scant vegetation were going to
accompany us all the way to Leh. We took a break at Khoksar check post for tea
and snacks. The aloo paranthas that we had packed were a life saver. We
noticed another taxi there. Roshan Lal Ji said that they were girls from
Mumbai. Their car would be travelling with us after the night halt. Needless to
say we were all super excited to make new girl friends. The road
travelled through the beautiful valley with the Chandra and Bhaga rivers
meeting to form the Chandrabhaga, the main stream of Chenab river. By evening
we arrived at Hotel Dupchin-inn in the beautiful town of Keylong, the gateway
to Lahaul valley. By that time my head
was hurting like hell, as if my brain was being boiled from the inside, ready
to explode. An upset stomach and vomiting just made things worse. I was
convinced I had come down with acute mountain sickness. The night was bitter
cold and I burrowed into my thick rajai. I dozed off early making DDs of my
symptoms while the others took a stroll on the terrace.
June 18
I woke up feeling as good as new. We were on our way at five in the
morning. But then there was bad news. One of the girls from the Mumbai group
fell ill and they decided to head back and abandon their journey midway. But we
recuperated from the loss bravely, pulling each other’s leg on the way. We also
were more than happy to switch off our cell phones. Prepaid sims don’t work in
J&K. It just gives you a sense of seclusion, away from the chatterbox. Then
came Zingzingbar, as interesting it might sound, but it was neither a bar nor a
haunted fort. It was just a couple of huts serving as teastall and breakfast
café. The air was freezing but tea and maggi (which was more of a noodle soup)
kept us hale and hearty.
 |
| Zingzingbar |
What lay ahead was one of the most beautiful sights on
the whole highway. We encountered heavily snow covered terrain as we were
nearing Baralacha pass at 4890m. Then as the road turned a beautiful half
frozen lake was in view. It was Suraj Tal, the source of the Bhaga river. All
along up to Baralacha pass road sides were lined with mounds of snow. We
decided to stop and had fun eating some icicles. Following the Lingti Chu river
we reached Sarchu, a plain area dotted by tents, a popular night stay option.
 |
| Suraj Tal |
The whole highway was dotted by road safety quotes, mostly witty one liners
such as, ‘I know I’m beautiful, but not so fast’, ‘be slow on my curves’ and
numerous others. We spotted many rabbit
like brown rodents in the fields, Roshan Lal Ji told those were Marmots. In a
fit of excitement he started to run franticly to catch one but failed. Sarchu
also acts as border between Himachal and J&K.
 |
| Sarchu |
After crossing Sarchu we had
to climb 900m on a steep slope. That is where Gata loops start, Consecutive 21
hairpin bends all the way to the top. Midway we saw a big heap of plastic
garbage, but as we neared the site, we were astonished to see a mound of filled
water bottles near a very small temple. That’s when Roshan Lal Ji told us about
the ghost of Gata Loops. Legend goes that a truck broke down in Gata loops and the
driver had to leave his assistant behind to go seek help, unfortunately weather
deteriorated and he returned only after 15 days to find his assistant dead,
bereft of water. It is believed that his ghost still haunts the place and asks
for water. That’s why all those bottles, spooky! We had entered Ladakh, which
literally means ‘the land of high passes’. After crossing Nakee
La pass at 4739m and and Lachulung
La pass at 5065m, we reached Pang, a collection of huts
serving as cafes. We were delighted to find rotis and had a heavy lunch,
although Mehta had some light noodles as he had an upset tummy. We had just
crossed Pang when we entered a vast stretch of uninterrupted plain land, the
spectacular Morey plains. This 40 km stretch is the only part of the route
where our car exceeded 60km/h, alas it was short lived.
 |
| Morey Plains |
Then started the long
climb which culminated at the highest pass on this route, Taglang la at
whopping 5359m. One can literally feel
the thin freezing air at such altitudes. By this time we had all become
lethargic and the small wait at a site
where snow was being cleared appeared unbearable. We just wanted to be
teleported to Leh. Across the pass we crossed numerous villages in the valley.
Leh was not far now. The radiant Thiksey monastery welcomed us to Leh.
 |
| Thiksey Monastery |
Capital
of Ladakh at 3524m, Leh is not a city but a beautiful canvas of a history
lecture. It is situated in a valley between Stok Ranges in the west and Ladakh
Ranges in the east. The characteristic Buddhist prayer flags, gompas, stupas
and monasteries make it one of the few surviving centers of Buddhism around the
world. As soon as we entered the valley, our tired souls were rejuvenated and I
scanned the horizon to search for the majestic Stok Kangri, the highest
mountain of the Stok range, overlooking Leh as a guardian. And there it was,
shining bright in the setting sun. Roshan Lal Ji took us to Yarol Guest House,
a simple Ladakhi house built beside a field. The couple who owned the place
converted one of their rooms as guest house. All the Ladakhi people we met were
extremely kind but the caretaker aunty was a very gracious host. By the end of
our trip, her tea would become the elixir that kept us going each day. It was
time to say goodbye to Roshan Lal Ji, the Ustaad among drivers as he was fondly
known in the hills. We promised to recommend him to all of our friends who plan
to visit Leh. After settling down and having some tea we decided to take a
stroll. The main market is dotted with souvenir shops, cafes, tour guides but
shopping was not on our minds. Too tired for the day, we retired to our cozy
room.
 |
| Yarol Guest House |
June 19
A warm morning (by Leh’s standards) greeted us. Poor Singh, we had
drained all the hot water leaving him to face the chill while taking a bath.
The owner of the place took us to the DC office where the Inner Line Permits
are issued which took us about half an hour. After splurging on a good luncheon
at Dreamland restaurant, off we went in search of bikes to rent. Local
sightseeing on bikes is one of the highlights of the trip and graffiti in the
bike shop aptly read, ‘Four wheels move the body, two wheels move the soul’. Me
and Nihlani were to be the pilon riders on a FZ and Pulsar. Nihlani was a bit
apprehensive sitting with Singh at first but off we went. Hardly a mile had
passed and we managed to lose Singh. There was no sign of him and Nihlani even
after 20 mins, leaving us wondering what the hell had happened. But we finally
found him. He tried to convince us that his gear got stuck. To Singh’s content
we got the bike replaced with a Pulsar and off we went for the second time. Our
first stop was the imposing Leh Pallace on a hillock. Now in ruins, it used to
be the residence of the king of Ladakh. People in early days sure must have had
sturdy knees because after the nine floors climb, we were utterly exhausted. At
the top we were left speechless by the view of the valley. It is by far the
best place for a Leh Panorama.
 |
| Leh Palace entrance |
 |
| View from Leh Palace |
Next stop was the Shanti Stupa and after
reaching there we realized why it is called so. The place, away from town,
perched on top of a hill, echoed of peace and silence. The life of lord Buddha
was in scripted around the stupa. It was a very windy day and driving on the
Leh-Srinagar highway against a gale was amazing. Lucky we took our shades along.
 |
| Shanti Stupa |
With the Indus to our left, 40km down the road we reached Gurudwara Patthar
Sahib. When Guru Nanak Dev was meditating at this place, a demon threw a huge
boulder from the hill top. To the demon’s surprise, the boulder had melted on
impact and preserved the outline of his body leaving Guru Nanak unmoved. That
boulder is still present at the center of the gurudwara. After some tea and
sweets at the langar we moved towards the confluence of the Indus and the
Zanskar rivers.
 |
| Gurudwara Patthar Sahib |
We stopped at Magnetic Hill. It is actually an optical
illusion. Things appear to roll freely up the slope of the hill but actually
they are going downhill. The wind had grown stronger and blew away Nihlani’s
goggles from his face! Luckily we found them.
 |
| Approaching Magnetic hill |
A few kms more and the there it
was, the muddy brown waters of the Zanskar, merging with the distinct clean
green waters of Indus. The sangam of two beautiful rivers. We spent an hour
there dipping our feet in the ice cold waters. We met another person travelling
solo on his bullet, from Delhi. He said he wished to rediscover himself.
Wishing him luck we decided to leave.
 |
| Indus-Zanskar confluence |
Next was the Spituk Monastry and what we
feared happened. It was a short stretch of climbing road covered in sand. Mehta
and me were leading the way when I suddenly heard a clunky bang. On turning my
head back, I found Singh and Nihlani were down with their bike. Fearing the
worst we rushed to their help but were relieved to see them get up. Apart from
some abrasions and bruises they were alright. Thanking god, we moved on to the monastery.
At the top of the monastery was a Kali Mata temple. We were confused at first
about the link between Kali Mata and Buddhism but soon a monk explained us that
earlier it was just the temple and only later was the monastery built around
it. On our way back, we stopped at the Army Hall of Fame museum. It was getting
dusky and the museum would soon close but we managed to get in just in time. One
could spend a day reading about the heroics of Indian army but it was closing
time and we had to leave. Singh got an army pocket whisky bottle as a souvenir.
We reached back, had dinner at La-terrace restaurant (which was going to become
our favorite eatery), made our daily call home and headed back to the guest
house. We used to spend some time sitting near the field and discussing all
sorts of things ranging from our itinerary to economic policy of India which
led to nowhere. We were thrilled because tomorrow we would be leaving for Pangong
Lake! The highlight of our trip.
June 20
Our driver Nurbu, was there to pick us up around 10 in the morning in
his eeco van. He was a young man who had lived his entire life in Leh. We set
off, carrying ample warm clothes because we knew we had to spend the frigid night
at the lake. Our destination, Pangong Tso (Tso means lake in Ladakhi), 150km
from Leh, at a height of 4350m. On our way we passed the villages which were
destroyed by the tragic 2010 flash flood. Nevertheless human spirit was not
defeated and villages were built again at the same place. As we were
approaching the 5360m high Chang La pass, an uneasy atmosphere surrounded us.
The road was getting worse and snow all around made everything more risky. Then
Nurbu told us that this year had been a particularly atrocious one at high passes.
Only a couple of days ago an Innova had been swept away by an avalanche here
killing all in it. But by now we had grown accustomed to news of such mishaps.
We were lucky Nurbu had brought along a good song collection to keep us
distracted. Crossing many rivulets, we gained height and the route became more treacherous.
The road curved and we could now see the 6000m high snow packed mountain ridges
towering vertically above us. On looking closely one could easily make out the
multiple fractures in the snow sheet above and signs of past avalanches
covering the road which were dug out and cleared to make way for the road (if
you could still call it one). Just as we were admiring this unforgiving terrain
there was a loud thump on our car’s roof. In that split second, we knew
something was wrong. Before snow could cover the wind shield, Nurbu pressed
hard on the accelerator to take us into the clearing ahead. It was a mini avalanche
which we had just evaded. That was by far one of the most frightening
experiences of my life. We were so lucky it wasn’t a full blown avalanche or we
would have been history. On reaching the top of Chang la pass, we were
relieved. We played around in the snow for a while. We were kids again.
 |
| At Chang La |
The
route ahead was through a valley by a small stream. We passed many shepherds
with their bharals and pashmina goats. We also passed some yak deciding to get
a pic with them on our return. We were getting impatient now when suddenly far
away, between two mountains we could see a bright blue shimmering body of
water. The first sight of Pangong. We were overjoyed. After half an hour spent restlessly,
we were finally at its shores. I fail to find the perfect adjectives for this
azure blue body of water still preserved in its pristine natural form away from
civilization. I had never imagined so many shades of blue and green at the same
place. The water was crystal clear. We shrieked with pain when we tried to step
in it. I don’t think water can be liquid yet so cold. It was burning cold! It
all looked so surreal.
 |
| Finally at Panagong Lake |
To give an idea of its size, it is 134 km in length and
4-5 km in breadth with about 30% lying in India, rest in China. A little ahead
we recognized a familiar figure. It was our Biochemistry faculty
Dr.P.Chattopadhyay. What are the odds, we thought. We went on and greeted him.
He was initially taken aback to see us. I don’t think he recognized any of us,
and he must have thought ‘ye kambakht yaha bhi aa gaye!’. We moved a few
km ahead to the ‘Three Idiots Point’, the exact location where the film had
been shot.
 |
| Pangong Lake |
Spending some time there we went further ahead to a place called
Spagmik on the shore. It has many options for night stay ranging from luxury
tents to cheap home stay. Of course, being budget travelers we chose the
latter. The room was quite comfortable for four of us and we couldn’t wait to
get into the rajais. I and Singh went on a stroll along the lake and captured
the most beautiful sunset. We were surprised to find an aged Bengali couple who
had guts to make this journey alone. Hats off to their zeal. The night sky
looked like dream, filled with gazillion stars. Never before had I seen so many
stars above me and such a clear Milky way. It felt as if one was closer to the
heavens. We spent a couple of hours chatting and talking about the news of a
seven feet tall serial killer who roams in these mountains and strangles his
victims to death. There’s nothing like a good horror story before going to bed.
But I couldn’t sleep well, maybe because of the altitude.
 |
| Sunset at Pangong Lake |
June 21
Next morning we spent a few hours by the lake. Singh somehow dropped his expensive shades into the freezing water. He had to perform numerous contortions
to finally reach it without getting wet which was entertaining to see. We left
with a heavy heart thinking when again in our short lives could we be back
here. The way back was uneventful apart from the pics we clicked with yaks. Exhausted
in the evening by the time we reached back, all we could do was have dinner (we
got a free burger, yay!) and go to bed.
 |
| Yak ! |
June 22
Still exhausted, we had to wake up at 4 in the morning. Nurbu was there
at 5 am sharp. We had to leave early so that we could be back by evening. Destination,
Nubra Valley, 120 km away on the other side of what is claimed as the highest
motorable pass in the world, Khardung La. Roughly 20 mins from Leh we had again
started climbing through the hairpin bends which we had started to hate by now.
If road to Chang La was bad, then this was even worse. We passed the check post
at South Pullu. The name left us giggling. Turns, turns and more turns.
Fortunately by now our bodies had acclimatized to the heights. Crawling at a
slow pace we steadily neared K-top. The only traffic being a caravan of 6-7
Tata Sumos crossing from the other side. It was a baraat and newlywed couple returning
to Leh after the marriage. Another turn to the right and there it was Khardung
La. We stopped and stretched for a while. We took blessings and Prasad from the
small Durga temple. It also has the highest cafeteria of the world where we
read the history of ‘Maggi’ written on the wall. Although claimed to be at
5602m and world’s highest motorable pass, modern GPS data suggests its
elevation to be 5359m making it one of the highest but not the highest. But c’mon,
we’re just splitting hairs.
 |
| Khardung La |
On the way down was the place where a landslide occurred
a week ago which trapped 400 tourists which were later rescued by the brave
army men. On the other side starts the picturesque Nubra valley between the
Karakoram and the Ladakh ranges traversed by the Shyok river. It’s a fairly
plain valley floor. We took a break at North Pullu. It was a routine tea and
piss break. What could go wrong there? Well, you never know. Such places have
these makeshift toilets with a deep pit covered by asbestos or tin sheets.
Mehta had wandered off to one such toilet hut to answer nature’s call and the
next thing I remember is Mehta crawling out of one such pit badly battered.
Anyone who has watched Slumdog Millionaire would know the scene I’m talking about. But it wasn’t
that bad as luckily Mehta had latched on to a support just in time although
injuring himself in the process. There were abrasions all over his legs, tears
in the jeans and a large hematoma 15 cm in diameter on his left thigh. All he
could do was pop in a Flexon and put on a brave face. Another close shave. Crossing a few small villages, we reached
Panamik, famous for its hot sulphur springs. People come from far believing
that the medicinal properties of the spring water would rid them of diseases. I
must admit we were underwhelmed to see the two small sulfur colored hot streams
so we headed back. Normal tourists are not permitted to go beyond Panamik as
the base of famous Siachen glacier lies only 60km down the road. Our next stop
was Diskit. Its famous for its monastery and temple on two separate hills. The temple
is a masterpiece featuring the 32 meter behemoth of a statue of Maitreya
Buddha.
 |
| Diskit Temple |
It is the perfect spot to capture the panorama of Nubra valley below.
In the distance one can make out the Nubra river meeting the Shyok river. The
monastery is one of the oldest and only other monastery after Spituk to feature
a Kali Mata mandir at the top. There the priest gave us a very tragic news. One
of the Tata sumos carrying the baraat which we crossed at Khardung La had
fallen down into the valley killing the occupants. It could have been anyone.
The more you think the more aware you become of the fact that how insignificant
we are in the lap of the mountains.
 |
| Nubra Valley from Diskit temple |
After spending some peaceful time with the priest, we moved on to our final stop, around 10 km down the road, Hundar. It
is a sight like no other to find a desert with sand dunes in the middle of the
Himalayas. In the distance were the double humped Bactrian camels taking a
lunch break grazing the shrubs of sea-buckthorn. We were just on time as we
found 4 camels about to be taken for grazing. The caretaker obliged and we
carefully got on these mighty beasts of burden. It was so much fun swaying back
and forth (no naughty jokes here), being carried from one sand dune to the
other bathing in the beauty of Nubra around us.
 |
| Camel Ride at Hunder |
It was time to leave and take
the arduous journey back to Leh. We crossed Khardung La and were descending down the road when Mehta shouted, "O B**C**!!! Patthar!!", and to our left, rolling down the slope, coming at us were these big boulders. Nurbu pressed on accelerator and thump thump thathum thump! The rocks came to a rest hardly couple of meters above us. Another day and we would have been shoved off the road into the valley. It took a while before my palpitations subsided. We finally reached Leh at around 7pm. Sadly
our trip had come to its end. We were to
leave tomorrow afternoon back to Manali but we still had to book a cab
and shop for souvenirs for our dear ones back home. After booking the cab it
was time for dinner. This time it was my turn to pick a place to eat. Too tired
to explore, we ended up back at La-terrace. That night we all had a long chat in
the open, gazing the stars, reflecting on the highs and lows of a journey which
still appeared surreal.
June 23
We spent the morning foraging gift shops. The best part was choosing T-shirts.
There are host of T-shirts available in the market reminding you of your stay
here, having amusing one-liners such as ‘How I got Leh’d’, a big hit. After
lunch, we bid farewell to our guest house caretaker and thanked her for her kindness
and irresistible tea. We will never forget that. Next was the roughly 2 km walk
to the taxi stand with all our luggage. Our driver Mohan was ready in his
Innova. It was to be a back breaking 20 hour journey to Manali. We opted out of
a night stay to save time. The journey progressed smoothly. Despite travelling
the same distance earlier, the hills and the views were still new and exciting.
We stopped when we saw a group of Ibex grazing near the road and clicked some
pics. As night grew deeper, the road became more dangerous. The only good part
was you could not see how deep the gorge was on the side. We had dinner at a
place called Bharatpur, just before the Baralacha pass. It was one of the
coldest nights of our trip with snowfields all around us.
 |
| Crossing Baralacha pass in the middle of the night |
We managed to cross
the pass cautiously but the nonstop driving had started to take its toll on our
driver Mohan. He was visibly tired and on one occasion he almost dozed off
halting the car with a jerk. We got the scare of our lives. Did we make a
mistake opting for a nonstop journey? We are such fools! But these drivers
should be used to such driving by now. Our all efforts to convince the driver
to stop and sleep for the night were in vain as he refused to admit he was
feeling sleepy. It was upto us now to constantly keep hip awake. We took nap in
shifts so that someone is constantly making small talk with the driver. Almost
all throughout the night it was Nihlani who kept our driver awake. Despite very
bad weather at Rohtang pass and a big traffic jam downhill, we were finally
able to reach Manali around 8 in the morning.
June 24
Our bus to Delhi was to leave at
4 pm. So we spent better part of the day in Van Vihar by the Beas. It was still
11 in the morning when we decided to see the 12 pm show of ‘Teri Meri Kahani’.
We really had to somehow kill time. The movie was bearable and not a total disaster
like the last one we saw. After a heavy
lunch, It was time to reach the bus stand. It took us 15 min to find our bus in
the sea of buses. On our way we found a man pleading to change his bus because
the sum of digits on the number plate of his bus added up to 13. His wish was
granted and he got into our bus. All we wished now was to be teleported to our
hostel rooms and sleep for a whole day.
June 25
We reached Delhi around 10 in the morning, back in the hot pan. But how
happy we were to be back at our hostel, our home, between our friends. How much
had we learnt in such a short span of time. Never had I felt such emotional
gratification. We all carried a part of
Ladakh in our hearts. Memories that we shall forever cherish.
“The world is a book and those who do not travel
read only one page.”
–
St. Augustine
