The Lama House

This one has been a year in writing. Nestled amidst apple orchards, deodars and lush green meadows, lies a quiet haven called the Lama House. Home to Pavane Mann, a mountaineer, adventurer and storyteller, her warm hospitality and intrepid spirit made me feel right at home. A tastefully done up house, full of curios, family photographs and elegant upholstery took me back in time. We spent many evenings sharing travel stories with hot toddy by the fireplace in one of the many cosy rooms.  Karma, a handsome, loving, black Bhutiya dog, warmed his way into my heart like no other. Perhaps, that is why I stayed and worked out of here for two months last autumn.

I woke up each morning to the melodious voice of the blue whistling thrush as sunshine filtered through the French windows offering a panoramic view of the lush green mountains and snowy peaks, as the wind carried the sweet fragrance of the purple hydrangeas outside my window. I watched Sher Singh, the gardener, care for the beautiful garden full of bright-coloured flowers and apple trees, come rain or shine. My favourites are the light pink roses – I enjoyed many afternoons by their side.

Room with a view

   

Karma and me

              

                                             The library - a treasure trove of mountain literature

The staff, Rakesh, Pooran, Sher Singh, and Kanta treated me like family. Rakesh, the caretaker and one of the cooks, treated me to waffles, roast chicken, apple crumble, trout amongst many other delicious items, during my stay. Karma and I went on many-a-walks together, up the hill to a lovely meadow overlooking Old Manali and the Manalsu River, towards Lamadugh or a nearby village. These are some of the reasons that I am back here again. And I could not be happier!

I have been waking up to the song of the blue whistling thrush. Outside my window, I watch a pair of red-billed blue-magpies peck away at a few of the leftover apples on the tree. On cloudy days, there is a riot of colour in the air, thanks to a flock of crimson and yellow-bellied sunbirds. Karma meets me with utmost enthusiasm each morning in the hope that I would take him for a walk. His light-brown eyes look into mine for cues. He is most disappointed when I pick up my laptop for work instead. He does have his way eventually.

Hot toddy has been replaced by gin this time round. Evenings spent with Pavane and her friends are always interesting. Her fascinating stories and experiences continue to inspire me.  Pooran, one of the cooks, has been spoiling me with homemade delicacies. On clear nights, I gaze at the millions of stars from the balcony. I doze off listening to the gentle sound of the flowing river. It feels like home. Every time I am here, it becomes difficult to leave.

Some places touch your heart. And then, there are those rare few that move your soul.

A trek in snowy Manali

Last Christmas, I participated in the Youth Hostel Association (YHA) of India's Winter Trekking Expedition in Manali.  I had been to Manali loads of times before, but never for an organized trek. Everyone told me that there was no point in going somewhere I had been before, but I am glad that I did. It is one of my most treasured experiences till date. 

View of Solang Valley

YHA Manali is located in picturesque Prini village, on the road leading to Naggar. The auto ride there was lovely, with snow clad mountains on either side. The early morning chilly air on my face was refreshing. After checking in, I went down for some left overs from breakfast as it was past the set time. That's when I realized that I must get into hostel mode quickly in order to not miss out on meals. The view from my room's balcony was breathtaking, overlooking snowy peaks including Solang Valley. 

Icicles on the roof

I went solo as none of my friends were feeling adventurous enough to brave the cold. Although I may have gone alone, I never felt alone there. My Maharashtrian room mates and I had a ball, playing cards/ board games, eating bhakarwadi and home made ladoos in the evenings, exhausted after our respective treks. It's always a good idea to carry snacks or sweets with you for a trek, for in between meals. The temperature would drop to -5 degrees celsius at night. Everybody was assigned a mattress, sleeping bag, a blanket and a pillow each. I froze the first night inspite of having slept in my sweater, 2 pairs of socks, gloves, scarf and a woolen cap! Luckily, somebody left a duvet behind the next day, which kept me warm for the next 4 nights. 

Hostel from a distance

Every morning, we would run down for hot tea at 6 am, get dressed and be ready with our tiffins for breakfast soon after. A few of us would actually go down for yoga at 5 am! I never did manage that. Mostly, because I wanted to be in the warmth of my bed for as long as possible. Initially, it seemed like boot camp but I soon realized how discipline was essential to the programme running smoothly. By 9 am, everybody was off for their respective treks, usually involving at least 10 kms of walking. In between, we would get time to rest, look around or just sit by the river in meditative silence to take in the panoramic view of Kullu valley. We would come back exhausted after the trek and then run down for pakoras and tea in the evenings. It was important to get to the dining hall as soon as the bell rang or risk getting no pakoras/ snacks. 

                      

My favourite trek was the one to a nearby village on the neighbouring mountain. We trekked up the mountain through deep snow and ice. Some of the people backed out, as they were not used to a steep climb. The rest of us carried on to the top and met a baba there. He had been living in isolation and was happy to see us. He sang and played a bhajan for us on his harmonium and gave us interesting insights into life in general. On our way back, some of the boys slid down the mountain as they couldn't keep their balance in the snow. It was a really funny sight. Soon enough, there was a snowball fight where I seemed to be the favourite target. We also got a chance to try some sledging on the icy road with locals, while passing through their village. 

On the last night, we all exchanged contact details to keep in touch for any forthcoming treks. After all the group pictures had been taken, some of us went out to drink some wine and have sheesha under the clear, starlit sky. I saw two shooting stars that night and I wished for more times like these. 

The Highway 

(Part 1)

Route: Chandigarh to Leh (via Manali)

Distance: Approx 795 kms

Travel Time: 22 hrs

I bought a calendar on Ladakh for my work desk, hoping that the law of attraction would come into play and I would find myself there next summer. One year later, there I was, in the lap of heavenly bliss and wonder. The journey there was nothing short of extraordinary.

After all these years of travel, the highway has certainly become one of my favourite parts of a journey. The Indian Highway is a world of its own. There is so much going on. From the car full of overenthusiastic guys speeding away, blasting music like they own the road to the overstuffed Innova's (SUVs) carrying two entire family generations for a holiday, their luggage tied on top, dancing to the tune of every pothole, daring bikers and finally, the cosy newlyweds off on their honeymoon. Of course, there's the occasional lone traveler, deluxe/ Volvo buses and the king of Indian roads - our very own mustached trucks!

My friend and I took one of the frequent Volvo buses at night from Chandigarh to Manali. We slept for most of the journey, waking up only for an early morning loo/ tea break at a dhaba. If you're traveling in North India, it is hard to miss the frequent road side dhabas. You can smell chai, dal makhani and tandoori rotis from a distance. Of course, half asleep, at 5 am, one could only smell the masala chai and hear the sound of the gushing Beas river. Back on the bus, I took the window seat to enjoy the mesmerizing view of dawn breaking through the mighty Himalayas. The journey from Kullu to Manali is breathtaking; fruit orchards full of litchis, apples and peaches on one side and the flowing river on the other side.

8 hours and 305 kms later, we had arrived in Manali. This is where we were breaking our journey, on the way to Leh. We enquired around to get the best rates for a shared minibus from Manali to Leh and booked it, for later that night. As we had the whole day in Manali, we decided to rest for a bit and do some sightseeing. We headed to Old Manali and unwinded at a river side cafe there. Brushed our teeth, freshened up and started the trip on a healthy note with juice and a fresh fruit bowl. The cafe owner was very friendly and offered us some local rice brew. One sip was enough to give me a giddy feeling and funnily enough, made me very contemplative. We lazed around there for some time and later with the help of some locals, found cheap accommodation for the night.

It was a quaint little guest house called Apple View, on top of a hill with its own orchard and a panoramic view of the deodar covered mountains. We were the only Indians here - only Indian backpacking girls to be precise. With our rucksacks in tow, we made our way up to the large, airy room with a view on the first floor. After a power nap, we headed to La Plage - a French cuisine restaurant amidst apple orchards. We decided to indulge ourselves here; and kick back with beers and delicious food. My slow cooked lamb with red wine jus was to die for! No more extravagance after this, we decided. After all, it was a thoroughly budgeted trip.

We were so happy that the weather was clear, after all the recent, unexpected pre monsoon showers, due to which our travel plans were almost shelved. It was a gorgeous, sunny day perfect for our onward journey to Leh. After slogging away at the desk job for what it seemed like an eternity, this was bliss. I felt so free, uninhibited and jolly.

A couple of hours later, however, it started to rain unexpectedly. We were really worried about landslides en route which would leads to delays or worse - abandoning our travel plans. There are only 2 routes to Leh - one via Manali and the other one via Srinagar. With heavy rain, there is a high chance of the national highway getting blocked, and help is hard to come by.

Thankfully, the rain didn't last long. We called it a night, pretty early as we had to wake up in a few hours for the next leg of the journey. The part we were most excited about!
“The journey not the arrival matters.” 
― T.S. Eliot