29 December 2017 – last day at Home (Kerala)

30 December 2017 – Bangalore

31 December 2017 – Delhi

Another new year eve. Just another day on the calendar!

Vacant hostel rooms and solitude, a company. And such is the effect of this camaraderie, that it makes your dormant brain go frenzy. The aftermath was yet another solo trip.

I no longer remember the last time I did something this crazy. Nevertheless, I was done whining about what I didn’t do‟. So I grab my notepad, laptop, and phone, and make myself comfortable on my bed. Text. Text. Text. Call. Call. Call. Make some notes and strike some names. At last, Mcleodganj it is!!

Once I had my destination in mind, next came the real work. Fingers crossed, I started looking for train tickets from Old Delhi to Pathankot for the very next day. Indian railways and last minute bookings can be quite unpredictable. Luckily enough, I got myself a RAC ticket in the late night Dhauladhar Express’ sleeper. Next came a place to lie down. A few calls and Google baba did the job and got me a cheap bunker bed. And the rest as it said, shall fall in line.

As the new year kicked in, I leisurely enjoyed my slumber till the sun shined bright overhead. After lazying around the whole day, the essentials and necessities go into my backpack at the last moment. Yahoo! And I am off to begin a fantastic new year ahead.

This was my first stint with the famous ‘Purani Dilli’ railway station. Ancient and historical. The one with its own story and the stories it stood to tell. My carelessness took me to the station two hours earlier than the scheduled time. In a way for a girl from South, this folly was a boon in disguise. In the two hours leisure, I tried to make sense of how different platform numbers are extensions of the same platform, whether I had elayichi tea in the name of coffee and the confusing crowd.

Finally, my train arrives and takes me to Pathankot after a delay of five hours. It was noon as I reached the bus depot and I took an HRTC to Dharamsala. From there I took the last bus, a small rickety thing with humans stuffed in. It was indeed one hell of a bumpy ride.

The darkness took its toll as I reached the town of Fernweh. Again, Google came to rescue in the form of Google Maps to take in the right direction. For often, trusting in fellow beings costs you more than relying on technology.

The mysteriously lit alleys reminded me of the good old Diagon Alley. The aesthetics of the area seemed to be a product of deeply rooted love for wandering off. Every other shop, restaurant, and even monastery is a witness to the craziness of the scores of wayfarers who pass by every year.

Walking down the never-ending flight of steps, I finally get to my Zostel. Four new faces welcomed me. Two South Koreans, Yin and Hyung (whose name I couldn’t grab); an Italian fellow named Andrea and Pawan bhaiya from Vijayawada.

That night we had dinner from a Tibetan Yak café, a dingy room with delicious food. We chatted along until we finished thukpa and thenthuk. Exhausted and frozen, we all fell asleep.

Next day, after a classic English breakfast from the rooftop of Anonymous Café, I geared up for Triund. But a walk in the valley and a few chats with the locals told me my misfortune. Since I didn’t have time to waste so I moved onto my plan B, i.e. road trip. I went and checked on two-wheelers, which reminded me that Andrea had the same plan. On the way, I met him and he offered a company. Without much thought, I pitched in.

Our first stop was at Palampur, a major town with narrow lanes and curvy roads. Andrea wanted to collect some souvenirs, so we went along with the crowd bustling into the market. After lunch, next on our list was Baijnath, a small township in the Dhauladhar range of western Himalayas. With river Binwa flowing down the valley and Baijnath Shiv temple atop, I felt my mind go wandering and the soul mesmerized by nature’s beauty.

From there we stopped by at Tashi Jong Buddhist village. Each time I enter a Buddhist dwelling, an unnatural serenity sweeps in. As expected, it happened again. Standing in front of the monastery, with all the bright shades incorporated in one building and nature, taking it all in and radiating it out in zillion other manners.

But I should say, the roads are merrier than the stop. The snow-capped mountains, the winding rivers in the valley, tea and tree plantations and the sky up above. The only trouble would be, where to keep your eyes glued.

Between all the pleasure and mesmerising beauties, my sim card decides to abandon me. No network. No emergency calls. Unpredictable is the name. But oh yeah! Deep down I always knew that you couldn’t trust anyone (or anything). Duh! There came my jugaadu sim handy. I switch it once I return to Mcleodganj.

The last jeep to Dharamsala had left an hour before. As promised Andrea drop me off at the Dharamsala bus depot to catch my bus to Pathankot. I enquired about the last bus and realized that it would only leave by 11:30 pm. I looked into other options since it was just around 9:00 pm. Thereafter, I decided to take a bus to Kangra and from there another one to Pathankot. Meanwhile, I munched on my not-so-yummy momos.

It was nearly 10:00 pm when I reached Kangra. I asked the locals about the next bus and realized I will have to wait for yet another hour. I waited at a shop and got some candies to kill time and not to make the shopkeeper kick me out of his shop.

By 1:00 pm, I reached Pathankot. Freezing cold and foggy night. The road ahead was invisible. The bus had left me at the junction. Now I had to find my way to railway station without any technological assistance. As I looked around, I found a patrol vehicle with police officers. I approached them for directions. I thanked heavens for making me not geographically challenged and move ahead. Yeah! For a moment, I was terror-stricken. No sign boards, vacant roads, and zero visibility. Its creepy enough to scare the hell out of any human. The only prayer was that I don’t take the wrong turn.

Nevertheless, I couldn’t afford to look what I felt. So I acted cool and found what I was looking for- the railway station. I found a cold seat in front of the IRCTC catering services, a better option, with all the light and railway police as well as counter beside.

The railway clock read- 1:30. Five and a half hours more to go before my train arrived. I took out my diary and started scribbling. But the weather seemed to dislike what I was up to and started blowing chilly breeze. As if dropping as low as 0 degrees was not enough. I accepted my defeat and tried not to fall asleep.

Trains came. Trains left. The people beside me kept changing, while I remained static. I went to the counter again to confirm the platform number for my train and decided to sit there itself. Between finding myself a comfortable position and taking a nap, I heard someone calling out “gudiya” from the counter. I looked around and realized they were calling me. There were two female staff members who appeared to be in their mid-twenties. They asked me to join them inside. I went in and they pulled out a chair for me near the heater. We chatted for a while and then they let me doze off.

As the clock arm moved towards 6:30 am, my train arrived. I bid adieu to the good souls and stepped in for another long-delayed train journey.

Back in Delhi.

I slowly stepped into the huzzle. And as I tuned myself to the busy Delhi frequency, I lost myself somewhere among the fast footsteps and ear-bursting traffic. Joining the monotony, promising to keep this craziness alive and go back, again.

Adios!

Here’s a glimpse:

Though it’s topography is tough and difficult but the denizens of this land are culturally rich, traditionally opulent and well-off. I am talking about India’s Desert Region- Thar. We are well aware of Rajasthan’s bounteous culture and its color, but we must thank the inhabitants of the place who have still maintained the galore while living in such resilient land.

I planned a visit to Jaisalmer and after confirming my tickets and booking, I outlined that I would touch Bikaner, Jaisalmer, and Tanot in the four-day long weekend.

Day-1 Bikaner

After reaching Bikaner at around 7:00 am, I planned my entire day to pay a visit to the local sightseeing. My trip started with the famous Junagarh Fort. Its exemplary architecture makes it worth a visit. The fort showcases the grandeur of the kings of ancient times. Bikaner per se is a princely city adorned with beautiful wall paintings rendering an artistic and eye catching character to the city.

The famous Laxmi Niwas Palace, built in accordance with the British Architecture is a must visit. Apart from the monuments, the food is another highlight of the city. Having heard a lot about it, I finally feasted on the famous Kachori of Bikaner. After paying the visit to almost every tourist spot, I moved to the next destination- “Jaisalmer”.

I took a bus from the Bikaner terminal and kick-started my journey. The landscape kept on changing from greenery to untilled piece of land. The roads were dusty, I felt like I was travelling through prairie. After a 6 hour journey, I reached the golden city. By then it was getting dark and I booked a hotel and called it a night.

Must Read: Places to Visit in Bikaner

Day-2: Jaisalmer, The Golden City

The morning hauled off with the beautiful view of the fort just from the window. I saw lorries and trucks of water pipes distributing water to the different hotels and residences. The two views were quite contrasted but reflected the hard truth of the people staying in the arid land.

After this episode, I planned my visit to Kuldhara and booked an auto for it. Kuldhara village was known as the haunted village of Jaisalmer; now one can only find remains of the houses there. I interacted with Salim, 11, a shepherd by profession who sang the saga of the village.

The next stop was Bada Bagh Cenotaphs. The place is known for its beautiful architecture. The cenotaphs are built just near to the wind farm. After exploring these, I moved towards the city to visit local places like the famous Jain Temple, Gadisar Lake, Paton ki haveli. Having visited the important landmarks, I decided a visit to Longewala! Yes, the same place where our soldiers fought bravely in the war of 1971.

Day-3: Tanot

I took a bus to Tanot from the bus station. After a two hour drive, I was in the border village of Tanot that was mostly acquired by the BSF (Border security force). There are no hotels in the village so I had a sole option of  staying in a dharamshala that houses devotees of Tanot Mata Mandir. Tanot Mata Mandir is a temple in the border area. It is said that during the battle of 1965, the Pakistan army dropped over 3000 bombs in the temple but none exploded. This temple from then has gained immense faith among the villagers. After keeping the bags in the dharamshala I went to take a stroll around the village.

The border village was extremely beautiful, and as the evening approached, the winds blew stronger blowing sand across the horizon. While I was moving around the village I met the village school teacher, Mr. Nehchala Ram who invited me to his house. We spoke at length about Delhi, Jaisalmer, the condition of students in Tanot, the two battles. Mr. Ram shared all his experiences starting from the village’s foundation, the India Pakistan border friendship and the disputes. He asked me if I could help him repair his television (the only source of entertainment in the village), with despair. The warm welcome by his family was the best I could get from my travel. His daughter packed some delicious Ghee Ladoos and a Coconut and asked me to send letters or talk over phone from Delhi [Which I do regularly]. I took the mobile number of her father and asked them if I could bid farewell. Mr. Nehchala helped me with the path, as the village was dark by then and strong winds covered the small route with sand. I left the family with a heavy heart. After sharing such lovely moments I had tears in my eyes with the thought of leaving Tanot the next morning. I reached to BSF camp and had my dinner and walked towards the dharamshala to get a good sleep.

Day 3: Tanot to Jaisalmer

I boarded the only bus from Tanot and returned to Jaisalmer, but my heart still longed for Tanot and the beautiful family that hosted me. But, I convinced myself and boarded the bus and moved away. After a 2  hour journey, I reached Jaisalmer again. My first stop on the city was the fort that enjoys a place among UNESCO World Heritage Site. I tried to make a plan to visit Sam Sand Dunes, but the local guides charged over and above.

After finding a decent deal on a package I agreed as I wasn’t left with any option. The place was commercialized and nobody was allowed to visit the place by themselves. So by 4:00 in the evening, I went to Sam Sand Dunes, took my first camel ride and moved around the beautiful desert.

As the sun set, a small gathering was organized wherein I got an opportunity to enjoy Rajasthani Folk Music and Dance. Dinner was served soon after the gathering and then I departed off to the city to board the train.

My trip to Jaisalmer was a mix of experiences- while it was overwhelming to meet the people of Tanot, it was gruesome to handle the tour agents in Jaisalmer. I was about to leave the city when I was again struck with a new problem of getting a cab at the wee hour.

Suddenly a car passed by he offered to drop me at the railway station for Rs. 100. I agreed and got in his car. Once we arrived at the station he refused to take the money and said, “you were alone, so I offered you help. If at that time I wouldn’t have said that I am a driver and will charge you money for the ride, you would’ve said no, and at this hour it is difficult to get cabs in Jaisalmer. I am a hostel owner and I want you to take some really good and golden experience from the golden city!”

With this, I left the city with nothing but the beautiful memories in my mind and the love of the people in my heart.

Read more about Jaipur

• A Walk Through The Pink City: Part One

• A Walk Through The Pink City: Part Two

• A Walk Through The Pink City: Part Three

• Exploring The Forts Of Jaipur: Shortcuts And Hidden Passages

   

Here’s a glimpse:

Travel makes paths itself, I never plan it!

Before I start sharing my experience of a trip, I would like to introduce myself and what keeps me travelling.

1. I never believe in going on trips, instead, I travel to the place: I absorb the place and this helps me to keep heads-on!
2. I never take a route that is so often travelled by, instead, I have learned to make my journey interesting.
3. I have been to places to love and admire nature but at the same time, I have learned how we humans recklessly are destroying the places we love to go.

In this blog, I would highlight one of my cherished travel destinations. I have termed it as favorite because of unexpected things that led me to the place.

Himachal Pradesh is the most sought after destination for any traveler. I managed to get a few days leave from my conventional routine to escape to the alluring mountains of Himalayas. Due to less number of leaves, I planned my holiday to Shimla but what happened next was more than profound.

Day 1: Delhi- Shimla

So that fine weekend, I took a train to Kalka from Delhi. As I planned my trip a day before so without arranging any ticket I boarded Howrah-Kalka express to Kalka and reached the foothills. After reaching Kalka at 5:00 am in the morning I enquired about the Toy Train Services to Shimla. My bad, there was only a single train to Shimla that day which had no reservation available. I took my bag pack and boarded the general coach of the toy train and without expecting any seat. I journeyed for about 4 hours standing and reached Shimla at 11:00 am.

After spending few hours in Shimla, I couldn’t find the solace I was in search of. Shimla at that time was crowded with enjoyable faces and seeking tranquility in these fun activities was difficult me. So I went to the famous coffee house in The Ridge, Shimla and planned to move to some other destination.

I jotted a few places on Google and listed them: Dharamshala, Mcleodganj and moved to the bus terminal in Shimla. I checked the time it was 16:00 hours. Before boarding, I wanted to get more information about the places that can be visited. Meanwhile, at the bus terminal, I met a guy, I hesitantly approached him to get more information of the bus going to different places and sought some advice on places that could be travelled. He sheepishly said, “why don’t you go to Peo, it’s beautiful and it’s en route to many other places and the bus to Peo will leave soon”.

Without giving it a second thought, I boarded to a bus going to Reckong-Peo at 18:00 hours. It is easy for me to write this name now, but trust me at that moment till I reached the place it was even difficult for me to even pronounce its name. Locals called it as Peo, so soon after boarding, I inquired many about the timings of the bus. As I was travelling solo, public transportation is particularly safe plus I had less money so couldn’t afford to take a cab. The third and the foremost reason I avoided cabs because I was not aware of the place I was going not even by its name!

Day2: ReckongPeo

I reached Peo at 5:00 am, it was still dark and unbelievably cold at that time of the year. The bus terminal was small and had nothing except a canteen that served some tea (with extra sugar). Still, the tea was enough to keep me warm. Distantly, I saw few people burning wood to keep themselves warm. I went to join that group so that I could grab some information about the place to get an idea where to head next. The people explained to me that Reckong Peo was a headquarter of the Kinnaur district of Himachal, and I could visit a number of places from here- Kalpa, Sangla, Kaza and so on. I approached the ticket counter to enquire about which bus would soon depart from here. He exclaimed, “Madam, at 7 am the first bus will depart to Kaza”. Without thinking much about the place and without googling the place (as there was no internet connection there), I got the ticket to Kaza without calculating how much time it would take me to be in Kaza.

Day 2: ReckongPeo to Kaza

The bus started at 7 am, now the hills were no longer the same I had seen in my life they were turning mighty, camouflaging with the sun rays. Satluj river was flowing along the route. The picturesque landscape refreshed me. I was able to cope with the tiresome night journey in the bus. While I was travelling to Kaza I understood and my heart spoke that, “this was the solace I was searching for and this is all I want in life”. I can’t explain how beautiful the mountains looked. I can’t measure its beauty in words, all I can say is that I spent nothing but received a rejuvenated self.

It was noon soon and I could see cars and buses standing in a queue. Locals panicked and said, “Another landslide. The BRO guys have been working since last night, hope the route will open in an hour”. An hour or two passed and the BRO men waved us off a happy journey. The turns of the hill grew more treacherous. I could see stones falling deep down with every turn the bus took. The highway just a 7 feet wide route! Evening approached and I could see some boards by BRO in Spiti and Lahual District. I smiled and felt happy within, this is a trip I will forever remember.

It was 7 in the evening after a 12 hour long journey through the narrow hilly lanes. I found myself amidst a small town surrounded by mammoth mountains. I started searching for a hotel, to my bad luck all the local hotels were closed for the winter season but to my luck I got a home-stay to shed off the tiresome journey.

Day 3: Kaza Tour

I woke up late in the morning due to cold and after the gruesome travel. I booked a local cab to visit nearby villages. I started with Langza, known as the marine fossil village. The Buddha statue known to be 1000 years old was another attraction.

The beautiful village looked so sublime and tranquil I took a fossil from one of the villagers as a memento. Then geared up for the next destination that was Hikkim, I never knew when I was about to pay a visit to the world’s highest post office. After I wrote a letter and stamped it to my address in Delhi (which I never received).

I explored the village and spent light moments with a village lady who offered me with some Jowar. After a while, I tried my luck on a mule ride. After spending few hours here I gasped to my cab driver, “Let’s move to Asia’s highest village Komic.” Truly Spiti Valley has it all! Komic village is at an altitude of almost 14800 feet beautiful white houses make this village splendid. Next was Kibber that is known to have world’s highest school. I faced breathing issues while being in Kibber. The next destination was the famous Key Gompa, I spend about an hour in the monastery talking with the monks having chai with them. The key monastery is the perfect example where one can find serenity.

After exploring all the nearby villages I moved back to Kaza to end the day and planned for the next destination.

Day 4: Lossar and Manali

The next day I thought of moving to Lossar. Lossar is a picturesque village famous as the starting point of the Chandertaal trek. It is also close to the Kunzum La pass and connects Spiti with Manali.

After reaching Lossar at around 10 in the morning I was baffled to see the village roads paved with snowflakes and the stored water crystallized into ice.

After paying a visit to Lossar, I moved towards Kunzum La. It had a small temple right in the middle of the snow-capped mountains.

Now, it was time to move to the end of the journey. The road to Manali was beautiful but equally dangerous with water and snow making it slippery. After a 10 hour journey when I reached Manali I was not the same person I was before.

The place changed me my thoughts and my perspective towards life.

Here’s a glimpse: