A week before I went on this trip, I worked overtime to ensure business is as usual, I temporarily quit Facebook (don’t ask me why), I turn on my out of office and update my status message on “gtalk”. Just to make sure every knows that I am out. Yes sometimes we all have to plan for our absence and I planned my absence from the online world, but did I plan my vacation from the offline world?
I knew where I didn’t want to go – a sleepless city with congested lanes overflowing traffic and filled with exhaust fumes, skylines punctuated with skyscrapers and brimming malls, movie halls and markets.
Hmmm…
Am I asking for the India 1920s where skylines was filled with fields, greenery and birds, walking was still the way of life, mud roads with slow moving bullocks, postman the only news carrier, a finally an era where time respects and waits for you? Given our population density and rapidly westernizing India, does such a place exist? I Went through Outlook Traveler, Google Earth and lonely planet but none of them could pin point my spot.
But one afternoon I got online to book my tickets, but to where? Was it a seat on the Time Machine? Was it to the frontiers of India? Was it in search of the lofty snow capped mountain ranges and winding orchard filled valleys? Did I get the invite from the fluttering prayer flags and scared chants from the monastery? Was it a karma call?
Before I deciphered and answered all this, I was already on a 4 hour shared jeep journey from Siliguri ascending the mountains of Sikkim. Nestled between the Kanchenjunga and Nepal on the West, lofty Himalayan ranges and Tibet on the North and scenic Bhutan and gorgeous passes in the east, Sikkim is the heaven on earth. The last seat in the back of the jeep gave me a panaromic view of the lush green mountains and rugged terrain. A lot of 150 rupees!
It was little after 6PM when I reached Gangtok. Mountain terrain and lack of space turned Gangtok into vertical city and tourist made it even more noisy and fast paced. Gangtok was not exempted from commercialization and bucolic Bengali tourists!
My friend had already checked into a hotel recommended by Lonely Planet in the busy area of Deorali (Upper Gangtok). With a stroller, backpack and precariously hanging SLR I ascended five floors huffing and puffing insearch of “505”. The City gym fitness routine and lung power from yoga was tested without prior notice or warning! I scraped through!
But vertical city also means cloud 9. On clear days one can watch Suprabath seva of Kanchenjunga from roof top and not laptop.
The room was simple, basic and backpackers paradise. Luxury rooms come with attached toilets, basic room and dorms have common toilets in the hallway. The windows in the room were overseeing MG Road, the busy market place in Gangtok. I looked at the world below me every inch of space was concrete and it was rowdy, random and raspy, but streets were clean. Did I pick the wrong location? Where are the mountain ranges? Where is the greenery? I was out of the room in 15 minutes to validate my fear and fiction.
Sun was going down fast and the valleys glittering with lights, it looked like stars waiting to go up. On the other side the market place was filled with activity. I had no plan or clue how I was going to spend the next 10 days. I didn’t bite my nails, curse myself or fret, rather decided to go with a flow, live the moment and figure out hour by hour.
We hit the he restaurant ordered for drinks and in the meanwhile my friend introduced me to a few friends he made over the past few days in Gangtok. We shook hands and they shared their Sikkim anecdotes, travel plans and itineraries, but I had none made to share.
“North tour leaving Gangtok on May 23 at 8.30 AM, 4 days and 3 nights limited seats available, register with the manager”. I stared at the poster hanging behind the manager. I nudged my friend to enquire and sign up for it. Within minutes my friend assuaged me that he had infact put together poster and drafted the itinerary and they were going to be a part of our tour.
That news brought me closer to Henrietta. I call her the mother hen of the group. We will come to that story later. She is an Australian settled in France for the past 30 years. This was her 7th trip to India, her first was when she turned 13. She says she loves India and there is something mystical about the mountains. Soon Steven, a chef from UK joined the group. Steven is a big man and child at heart.The “Honeybee” of the group! Jack was up Steven’s A**, again we will come to that later.
Open mind and open arms was the best way to meet people and make friends. The breakfast hour at New Modern Lodge was a beehive. Spend an hour in the morning and you will know who is arriving and who is leaving town. People shared tales and anecdotes over breakfast, plans and itineraries were born over a pot of tea, and new friendships were forged. Paper napkins are used more to exchange numbers and email address than wipe and clean.
Bus service existed only between important towns and to travel to nook and corner of Sikkim one has to rent a jeep. Renting a jeep is expensive, but sharing can work out affordable and cheap. Most share jeeps leave early in the morning and you must go to the bus stand a day in advance to reserve your seats. Especially if you are headed north it is safe to rent your own jeep and have it at your disposal. We needed 8 of us hire a jeep and make the travel affordable. When we went to bed that night we had only 4 confirmed seats and we were hoping to find 4 more.
We were there at the restaurant at 7.30 am the next morning and it was yet to open. Henrietta arrived a few minutes after we arrived. She delivered the good news that 4 more had confirmed their seats. A wave of joy went through me. Yes, we were on this journey to explore North Sikkim. We repacked for the 4 days trip and made arrangements to leave our excess baggage back in the hotel. Soon Stephen and Carol (a couple from France) and Artur and Monica (couple from Spain) joined us in the restaurant.
8.30 AM and our travel buddies assembled, but Steven Gerald was missing. Where is Steven? Henrietta went back to the lodge and pounded his door. The room was locked from the inside and there was no response. We had no option but to have the manager help us. It was 9.30 when finally Steven showed up with a bad hangover from previous night. Before the jeep arrived he even made a trip down the street to get more booze for the trip. A fish never lives outside water!
Spirits were high, excitement was even higher than the mountains in North Sikkim, and we loaded our baggage and finally left for Lachen. I was in the last seat sandwiched between the chefs Stephen and Steven. Till the lunch time Steven were discussing and exchanging recipes, but sadly they were all non-vegetarian. In the front row Henrietta, Artur, Carol and Monica were talking about their travel stories and soirees. Bijay seated right besides the driver was conversing in Nepali and giving us updates on the scenery of Sikkim. Snacks and water made its round in the car to keep the chatter alive and we had ample smoke breaks and chai breaks to keep the driver awake and agile.
Roads were winding and many at times they were non-existent. Sitting in the last row I could feel the bumps in my spine, but Steven absorbed most of the shocks and made every fall feel like slow motion and jump in the bed. During one of the falls we heard the something break and very soon our hips and were going down. We looked at each other, not with an intention to blame, but how do we fix the broken support leg in the seat. How do we manage the next 4 days?
We leaned forward without loading our weight on the hind legs of the seat and managed to make it to the next break spot without further crumbling the seat.
Brilliant ideas brew over tea! The driver was resourceful, he picked up the jack and he substituted it for the broken leg. The jack was now holding 3 men and 500 pounds. Wow! And quickly before someone came up with a line I coined a line for Steven, “Jack is up Steven’s ass”. And we took some pictures to celebrate the lighter moments on the trip.
Mountains wear a lush green cloak, peaks white and pure, breeze rich in oxygen, and it was detoxify through intoxication of nature. Apart from our food breaks we also got off the vehicle to capture the spirit of nature – lush green mountains, fairy white water falls and mist. During one such break Stephen became a tourist attraction and they swarmed him for pictures. His long flowing hairstyle, long face with a calm look made him look like Jesus Christ. After Jack we now we had JC banter. There was fun, food, frolic and jack all through the journey.
There were so many villages we crossed on the way to Lachen. Most of them were small with just one street, a few houses and shops. Front portion of most of the houses were either shops or restaurants, the rear portion was their dwelling unit and first floor had accommodation for travelers. You could walk into the kitchen and place your orders and watch food being cooked right in front of you. Sometimes you can see women go to the backyard garden to pick potatoes and vegetable. Everything is offered hot, fresh and with a warm smile. This is what I call bed, breakfast and beyond experience. You get to live with the family, observe their life and be a part of it.
Sikkim in one place where both journey and the destination is beautiful. Life in these small villages is simple, self contained, self serviced but seldom sedentary. Male members in the household take care of hard muscle work - work on the fields and run around the mountains, while women take the responsibility of kitchen, kids and travelers, and kids take care of the cattle.
After intermittent breaks and loads of fun the gang finally reached Lachen at 7 PM. The sky had opened up and it was pouring rain when the jeep stopped at the home stay. We offloaded the drippy backpacks and we walked through the narrow passageway, dining area and kitchen and then finally ascended the stairs to our rooms. A warm shower was on the top of my list when I got to the room. I turned on the geyser and spread the wet clothes in the bag.
In the meantime rest of the gang had assembled in the dining room filling it with smoke and cheer. In the meantime my 30 minute wait proved futile. The geyser was not working and I had to settle for a cold shower instead. Life is simple, but unpredictable in the mountains. The weather makes it really hard for the travelers, but for locals that is the way of life.
When I came down the gang had finished their hot cup of chai and were ready to share their stories over Smirnoff and Honey Bee. Glasses were waiting to be filled, spirits were waiting to be transported and in the meantime Bijay was busy discussing the dinner menu with women in the house. Nothing elaborate or fancy but just hot and homemade was the menu for the night.
Tobacco mist engulfed the room and at times the flavor of spices made its way into the dining area. We met 24 hours ago and by then the group had bonded completely over food, drink and smoke and we were in that house an hour ago and Bijay was already helping the women cook. What is with this group?
Dinner table was turned into a bar and conversations were wild, weird, intriguing, intellectual, funny, and candid. Once the bottles were opened some turned sober while Bijay went back and forth between the glass and knife and he was also putting together Stephen and Monica’s itinerary in Delhi.
Watching people drink is no fun! I was looking at the kitchen with a hope for hot food. The cold rainy evening and long journey made all of us hungry. Soon the bar was closed and the first dinner of the day was brought out with cheer and fanfare. Hot potato subzi, bindi, dal tadka, rice, spicy pickles and salad decorated the table. Guess what happened next? The decibel level in the room dropped to a minimum and all one could hear were the clamor of silverware and the raindrops hitting the jeep roof. We were at 9000 ft, gravity made raindrops hard and heavy. I went wrapped myself in a razai that night with a hope that the rains would stop and we would ascend another 9000 ft towards Guru-Dongmar lake and Thangu.
At 4 am I woke up and looked through the hexagonal glass window surveying the landscape and sky. The peak was covered with snow and mist, the sky was dark from the clouds, it was still raining heavy and didn’t hear a bird. Instead I heard the locals talking about rain and landslide. I didn’t believe my hearing and went back into the warm blanket. 7 am I come down for a tea and Henrietta confirms landslide, but is not sure if we can make to it Thangu. By then the entire group gathers for a smoke and a makes a quick decision to send Steven and Henrietta survey the landslide.
Will we make to higher altitudes or will it be a wash out? That was the question in our minds. We waited for the survey crew to return and in the meantime we decided safety was more important than scenery. The trip to Thangu and Lake was a day trip and there are no places to stay at that altitude. Army had their presence, but nothing for travelers. It is pretty to watch the peak but not pretty to get stuck at 17,000 feet for days and waiting for the army to come and clear the road.
Finally the team came back and announced that landslide had cut off access to Thangu and higher regions. We swallowed hot Maggie noodles with disappointment and left Lachen.
How about a visit to the local monastery before we leave the town? Our disappointment disappeared the moment we stepped in the monastery. When you step in the kingdom of God both desire and disappointments vanish. Breathe taking view of Kanchenjunga from the steps of the monastery, magenta and yellow tapestry, sound of chants, smell of incense, and vivid, bright and intricate paintings on the walls of the monastery changed the mood of the group. We did a little prayer for the journey before we set on our day 2 of travel.
GangtokGangtok – http://picasaweb.google.com/Chandrasekaranduraiswamy/Gangtok#
Palace Monastery -http://picasaweb.google.com/Chandrasekaranduraiswamy/PalaceMonastery#
LachenLachen - http://picasaweb.google.com/Chandrasekaranduraiswamy/Lachen#
Lachen Monastery - http://picasaweb.google.com/Chandrasekaranduraiswamy/LachenMonastery#
