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Published: October 8th 2007
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Public bus front
MTA could learn a thing or two about decor from India... Last catch-up detailed our adventures in Manali. What I forgot to include was the reason no blogging occured: we lost power our last day in Manali, for the entire day. In fact, the power outtage extended along the Beas River, to our next destination, one hour south by public bus: Naggar.
Previously, our methods of transport were private overnight buses. While a bit rough on the bum (and they do not deserve the name "sleeper bus"), they coddle foreigners in that our luggage is nicely stowed in the trunk and we have reserved seats. Public buses are a whole other experience. First, the departure time is a suggestion. Secondly, Indian grandmothers have already saved the good seats for their families. And thirdly, if we are lucky, we can tie our backpacks to the roof. Otherwise we have to sit with them on our laps. Initially, our journey to Naggar was going smoothly, with bus winding along the Beas River and lots of beautiful mountains. About an hour in we arrived at our destination, expecting a lot of others to jump off the bus too (who doesn't want to go to Naggar?). Not so much, and as we got off, the
Naggar
Dana and the green apricot bus started to pull away. This wouldn't be such a bad thing, except our backpacks were tied to the roof. We ran up to the ticket man and exclaim "Our bags!". He had no idea what we were talking about. After much pointing and yelling, he got out of the bus, looked up at the roof, and plainly said "Get them down." Then he added a "Hurry". With half the town of Naggar honking at our bus (it took up most of the road) Dana climbed up the roof, untied our bags, and threw them down. Talk about working under pressure.
Naggar is a cute little town, situated on a ridge, with a nice castle. We didn't go to the castle, but we did stay at a quirky French guesthouse and go on a random hike. Why was the guesthouse quirky? A baby slug lives in the communal sink, herds of donkeys walk by the squat toilets in the morning, and I was introduced to a bucket shower (fill up a bucket with water, pour over body in cup fulls, repeat). The hike followed a road to higher up villages. The cash crop in this area is apples, so
Naggar
Views of the ridges we walked past tons of orchards being picked. Lots of Indian men were curious as to why we were walking past their place of employment, but one Indian woman took the cake. She was herding some cows down hill when she decided to feed Dana and I some green apricots. She shook them off a tree (presumably not hers), dusted off some of the dirt, and ate them with us on the side of the road. She only knew the word apple in English, we muttered out a couple of namastes. She made us promise to take some apples back to our guesthouse. On the way down the hill, some children caught sight of us and decided to set off fireworks. One kid would light the firework, and immediately the others would scatter. Just like a bad firework safety video, they would creep back to see if it was going to explode. Fearing severed hands and blinded children, I kept screaming "Get back!" (in English, probably why it wasn't effect). When it started raining sparks they would all dance around the firework, asking for ten rupees. I declined, not wanting to support firework play with minors. That night during dinner,
I heard another group of kids setting off fireworks. Who is supplying kids with fireworks in the Parvati Valley? I didn't see a firework store!
After two days, we decided to cut out of Naggar via public bus (luggage on our laps this time) to Pulga. Pulga? Yes, we decided to go to some town that we only knew of by a map and from some Israeli chick we met in Mcleod Ganj. Three different public buses later we ended up in Manikaran, which was supposed to be this wonderful hot spring town. It looked like concrete had barfed up along a river, so we got moving on to Pulga real fast. After a twenty minute taxi ride, we ended up at a dam construction site. Was this Pulga? No! The taxi driver said we had to walk 30 minutes "that way" to get to Pulga. It was getting dark. We had been on 3 different bum-numbing public buses. We had been dropped off at a dam construction site. Things were not looking good.
After hiking with all our stuff up a hill, along some slippery paths, we came to the hamlet of Pulga. We walked through the
Pulga
Shrine along the waterfall path... center of town (a few stores selling cookies and toiletries), hoping to find something that resembled a guesthouse. After some wanderings, with daylight dwindling, we found something straight out of Alice in Wonderland. The only guesthouse made of cement in the hamlet, we had scored the last room. We later learned the alternatives in this small town were wooden rooms in Indian houses (very drafty) or caves (for the more intrepid). Since the owner of the guesthouse wasn't cooking that night, she sent us to "the restaurant". Yes, "the restaurant", one restaurant that serves food prepared not to massacre Western stomachs.
Pulga was unfortunately marred by rainy weather (each afternoon it would pour, even though monsoon season was supposed to be over) increasingly colder weather (the concrete alone doesn't keep you that warm), and the early setting sun (no street lights makes for a darker place, it felt like midnight at 8 pm). Highlights: watching the cows herding out and in each day from our room, sitting in some intense sun on the balcony in the mornings, trekking to a waterfall. Mishap: at the restaurant, Dana and I were put in some kind of yurt annex, where we happened
Kazol
Schoolhouse play upon the largest spider of the trip. We cornered it with our headlamps and were relieved when our waiter came in. He immediately leapt into action, but instead of killing it, he brushed it towards our shoes. Not the desired result. I ate the whole time wondering if its kin were going to come enact their revenge.
After two days, Dana and I decided to leave the damp weather and cold nights behind for the plains of Uttarkhand. With heavy hearts we said good-bye to Himachal Pradesh and the majestic mountains. After a quick stopover in Kazol, we made our way on to Rishikesh....
And we are currently in Rishikesh! After my ashram stay I will give an update....
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Aunt Linda
non-member comment
namaste
thank you for the journey in words and the wonderful photos of you and my niece Dana. Eagerly anticipating your next entry.