They Sikkim Here......

Our plan had been simple, get off the bus in Siliguri early in the morning and get the hell out of the plains, uphill towards Darjeeling and Sikkim. Just anywhere upwards that would take us to cooler air and away from the sweltering, stinking plains. Of course by the time we actually arrive in Siliguri, having had all of ten minutes sleep on the bumpiest road in India, we have no energy to move anywhere. We slope off to a nice quiet hotel, stand under a cold shower for 10 minutes, and collapse onto a comfy bed for some sleep at last.

Our forced stop in Siliguri has some advantages though. We visit the tourist info offices and chat to some other travellers and as a result change our minds about Darjeeling, deciding to head towards Kalimpong and the foothills near Bhutan, that should be quieter and less touristy. The rest also pays off and the next morning we make an early start, both feeling ready for the climbs ahead. It is a grey day and Siliguri is pancake flat, there is absolutely no sign of the 2000m mountains that the map indicates are so close by. We scan the horizon for any sign of higher ground, really looking forward to being in the mountains again, but it looks as though the plains just stretch on and on.

The first 20km was flat and although we were riding through tall forest, the road surface was crap; huge potholes and bumpy tarmac meant that other vehicles swerved all over the place trying to find some smoothness and our progress was slowed. We were reminded about the awful bus journey of two nights before and prayed that Sikkim’s roads would be better. We were not to be too disappointed either. The minute we turned on to highway 31A “The lifeline of Sikkim” there were signs proudly proclaiming this to be a border road and thus under the special protection and maintenance of Dantak and BRO. I am not too sure what exactly these organisations stood for apart from the road building but they have a great need for poetic sign writers. At every kilometre we were greeted by rhyming road safety warnings such as “whisky is risky - on roads”, or “Highway not Runway!” and “Better late than late Mr!”. However the sign that almost caused us to crash in pure laughter was “Stop gossiping and let him drive.”

The silly signs were to come in useful later that day as a way to distract us from the absolute toil and sweaty slog of the road up to Kalimpong. As we reached the Teesta River and turned onto the road to Sikkim, we finally see huge, steep, jungle clad hills towering almost immediately above us. The river here is wide and slow, but as soon as we turn upstream we enter the mouth of the valley between the hills and everything changes. The road followed the mighty rush of the now much narrower Teesta up the steep, jungle filled valley, deeper and deeper into the hills. The morning’s ride was up and down, constantly climbing along the majestic Teesta River. On the steep uphill sections the magnificent mountain river had been enough to inspire us to keep going. We had done a bit of cycling in Meghalaya but really nothing but big mountain cycling can prepare you for the Himalayan foothills and the going was hard. However the aggressive Assamese Macaque monkeys that lined the road ensured a high rate of pedalling too

After lunch we attacked the 14km road up to Kalimpong. We guessed we had about 1200m to climb. The first 2 km were OK, although we were dripping with sweat and completely overheating, the excitement of being in the forest and climbing up to hopefully cooler climes kept us fresh mentally. It also helped that with each couple of hairpin bends you found yourself cycling in the canopies of the huge rainforest trees that had been towering above you only a few minutes before. Happily for me a good few birds flew overhead or perched obligingly causing Robin to stop and get the binoculars out, giving me a chance to catch up too. It was a brilliant landscape to be cycling in, just very vertical. This fact was confirmed when at one point instead of the usual hairpin bend the terrain was so steep that the road builders had had to use a loop. The road passed underneath a bridge and quickly looped back on itself to pass over the same bridge!

Our progress was slow - at the worst points we only managed 4 miles per hour (7kmph) and predictably I had a sense of humour failure after a particularly cruel corner which had caused me to get off and push the bike. Robin had stopped ahead in a conveniently placed rest shelter and usefully suggested biscuit power as the way forward. As soon as we sat down in the shelter a group of young boys appeared to play cricket inside this shelter. With a shortage of flat space around, the concrete floor of the shelter was not to be shunned by budding cricketers. The fielding skills and reactions of these boys really impressed me, but I suppose you quickly learn to stop those balls as should one get away from you it could roll a hell of a long way downhill! Refreshed from the biscuits and boisterous antics of the boys we set off again up to Kalimpong and were relieved when it came into sight. However the sight of the town itself was not so impressive, another sprawling dirty Indian town perched rather stupidly on the side of a hill.

Although a holiday resort we did not think too much of Kalimpong, the views that the town is famous for were shrouded in cloud and the place seemed to have out grown its initial capacity. This was to be a
similar pattern we were to find with all the larger towns of the area. The towns mostly started on hillsides beside small temples or monasteries and because of their position in the cooler hills became hill resorts for Britishers and Bengalis coming up from the awful heat of the plains. The rush of holidaying Bengalis led to a boom in hotel building, a massive water shortage and an ugly sprawl of buildings obliterating the very hillside beauty that attracted all the holidaymakers to start with. Oh how I long for a planning system again!!

The water shortage seemed to be particularly bad and we got special permission to wash our sweat soaked cycling shorts and shirts in one bucket of water. The hotel owner had to buy all his water from trucks. However it seemed that the main reason for the water shortage was because of the location of the city on the hillside, nowhere near a decent water supply. In every hotel in the hills to come we found the same ‘Conserve Water’ signs. We wondered how much notice other hotel guests took and thought to ourselves that if only the hotels actually maintained their dripping bathroom cisterns, a lot of the problems could be avoided…
Something had definitely changed from the plains however - the faces and dress of the people in Kalimpong was distinctly different; more Oriental than Indian with a mix of Sikkimese, Nepali, Tibetan and Bhutia people.

After a night resting in Kalimpong we struggled up to Lava, a small village at 2200m. Unfortunately we entered the cloud and had to shelter from a heavy downpour on the way there, before cycling along what seemed to be a narrow ridge; to either side the dripping rainforest gave way to a cloud filled abyss. We spent 5 days in Lava, recovering from our first serious mountain cycling and enjoying early morning walks in the amazing forests. I was keen to follow the Forestry Department’s sign that had implored me to Sit in the woods quietly and let noble thoughts come at you from every side.

Lava is a really quiet village with a large number of hotels for its size - another Bengali hill resort. We had come there to go bird watching and Robin enjoyed good morning walks through the towering temperate rainforest, juniper trees and our first rhododendrons. I had a few lie-ins and we both took shelter in the afternoons from the many downpours and storms which caused power failures. We had to be careful about opening the window too because sometimes when the clouds closed in I would look up to see cloud rolling over the window sill. Quite a damp place but it produces cool forest and amazing wildlife. On one morning we had good views of snowy mountains into what might have been Bhutan. The forests are quite depleted but the sight of towering trees supporting hundreds of other plants, including many bromeliad orchids, cheeseplants and even entire other trees, was a sight to behold.

Leaving lava we doubled back along our ridge road and left the clouds behind to speed downhill towards Gangtok, the Capital of Sikkim. We were rewarded by a fantastic downhill that was just too beautiful and steep to be done quickly and we stopped many times to admire the views down to the mighty silt filled Teesta river below, and to rest our fingers from all that braking. It was not until lunch time that we entered Sikkim, getting our permit at the border check post of Rangpo and gaining another passport stamp.

Sikkim, a separate kingdom until the mid 1970’s, has relatively recently opened up to tourism and there are still many restricted areas requiring permits to visit. It also is quite a militarised area because of past strained relations with China (which claims that Sikkim is part of China, as it used to be part of Tibet). Anyway although we were still in India it did feel like a different country. Rangpo was much cleaner than the average Indian town, there were litter bins and the people looked different. Sikkim has a mixture of mainly Nepali, Tibetan, Lepcha and Bhutia people and Buddhism is the main religion. The place also has more natural forest left than anywhere else in India. The people were friendly but not overpoweringly so. No longer did people shout their English at us in excitement. Also there seemed to be much less tourist price going on, which made that shopping much easier as we did not have to ask about every single price. The Sikkim Government certainly sees eco-tourism as its future and the trekking industry is its main focus. However this is still India and bureaucracy rules so we had to go to Gangtok to arrange any trekking first.

We enjoyed the road along the river valley with its ups and downs and at 4.30 pm happily set off up the last 12 km to Gangtok, some 1200m above us. We arrived exhausted, after dark having pushed the bikes up the last 2kms through the city with one emergency biscuit stop on route. The road was bumpy, nearly vertical, the traffic was heavy and the road was city lined most of the way up. Enticingly we passed loads of hotels and had to remind ourselves to keep going so that we would be near the top of the city for the views and to be near the tourist office to arrange the permits for trekking.

We definitely enjoyed our lie-in the next day as we were both exhausted by the ride up to the city. But the beer the night before had gone down very well indeed, we had earned it! Better still was the fact that we were now in drinking country. Sikkim, unlike elsewhere in India, has nice beer served cold and at cheap prices! Our main aim of being in the city was to find out about trekking and we went to the tourist office who admitted that they issued the permits, but would not deal with us unless we went through a travel agent. We spent an infuriating bit of time talking to agents all who wanted to sell us $30 a day packages. We were very frustrated; the agents were not really listening to us and would not tell us simple breakdowns of heights and distances planned for each day of their treks. There was even less information coming from them when we asked for a breakdown of the prices in their package.

Eventually through Modern Central Lodge we found Budha, a guide who listened to us and was willing to spend time talking to us. Budha still tried hard to say that at a minimum we would need 2 porters, 1 cook and a yak or pony plus him to go on the trek to a 5000m pass with views up to Kachenjunga. Eventually we agreed a price of 7000 rupees for us to do a 6 day round loop trek up to Goecha La (the pass) with us carrying all our own food and tent. We spent the next day shopping for dry food with Budha, walking up to Ganesh Tok for fantastic first views of Kachenjunga and enjoying an orchid show, for which Sikkim is famous. We also saw the junction to Tibet - from Gangtok it is only 50km to the Chinese/Tibetan border but this road is not open to foreigners, in fact we are not even allowed to go near the border. It is frustrating to know that an escape route east is so close but that we cannot take it.

Leaving Gangtok we back track down the same hill we had struggled up and we flew along beside the Teesta again. Unfortunately we had to re-climb up the same height and then some more to Rabongla. The cycling was steep but we were fresh and happy and the road was good and practically traffic free. The climb was hot work though and it was with relief that we arrived at a small village to ask about lunch. We were told there was a restaurant further up and enquired at the “tourist amenity”. No they only did coffee! However we found the restaurant and had a very good thali lunch. This was just what was required; good home cooked food, (the restaurant was family run) that had free refills of everything. The simple rice, dhal/lentils and veggies were spiced up by home made chutney. We were soon to realise that every family proudly kept special recipes for their own chutneys, great tastes were in store for us with these chutneys. Although some are a little too spicy for me, it is great to be able to add you own amount of chillies and not have your palate assaulted as so often happens in the rest of India. My favourite so far is a hard cheese and chilli chutney found in Sikkim and I am told in the Sherpa area of Nepal too!

The ride onwards to Rabongla was less steep and the going was better since our height made it less hot work. The great road snaked around the hillsides constantly climbing through forests, cardamom plantations and terraced fields filled with cabbages, cauliflowers and corn. There were many roadside vegetable sellers and often concrete market platforms and concrete steps going up to higher villages. Many children stopped their cricket games as we passed, running along with us as we toiled up the hills, shouting encouragements or sometimes just quietly running next to us smiling. The people in Sikkim seem much calmer than elsewhere in India, much less excitable and crazy. Maybe it is the fact they are Nepali or Buddhist, or the lower population density, or simply that they are mountain people. They are also very friendly, open people.

The ride was peaceful and looking out over the villages we were happy to see that although the people rely on farming the land they had left a good number of trees around. With this type of environment it is vital that the slopes do not become deforested, so massive soil erosion and flooding can be avoided. Sikkim has many advertising campaigns expounding the virtues of trees, but it also has an expanding population. Only time will tell if we humans will finally look to the long term and manage the natural resources of mountain jungles and forests well. I realise that writing this is really hypocritical; after all we in Scotland have completely destroyed our own native forest; however we can at least say “learn from our massive mistakes and keep the amazing forests you still have”.

Rabongla was a nice little town, where we met our first European Buddhist tourist since Bodh Gaya. We also found ourselves in a lock-in! In the small towns the policeman blows his whistle and all the businesses shut up at 8pm. Along with the best and cheapest beer in India, Sikkim also has the highest rate of alcoholism and apparently the curfews are to prevent drink related trouble. Happily we were inside a restaurant chatting to a local drinker and already enjoying our beer and second meal of the evening.

Our friend was a huge guy, with typical Sherpa build, but he spoke with a comedy high pitched voice that you would never imagine belonged to him. He was obviously well oiled and seemed to find everything hilarious, especially Robin’s appearance. He struggled to find the translation to describe what Robin looked like, but with a flourish announced that he was “An Enchanter!”, prompting a stream of ridiculous Monty Python jokes that lasted for the next week.

We carried on chatting to this guy for a while and found out that the jeep procession that had passed us earlier that day had been flying flags for the opposition party. We asked about the other flags we had
seen in Sikkim and it was a rather maudlin face that looked back at us whilst saying that the old Sikkim flag with its Buddhist wheel is no more, adding that “we were once a country you know!” This is the only real political discussion we had in Sikkim. This guy obviously felt pride in Sikkim’s uniqueness and a bit of loss at joining with India. Robin asked him directly if he preferred Sikkim to be independent or part of India , but he reacted as if this was something you are not allowed to ask, although later went on to explain in a very round about way that other Indians treat the Sikkimese like slaves - “you British people treated those Africans very bad no?, that is how it is with Indians and us Sikkim people”.

Other people did not really talk to us much about whether they are happy with the union, but it is obvious that the state has developed very quickly since joining. There are many political posters and public education billboards about and it seems to be that the Chief Minister of Sikkim is trying hard to set his state’s course of development to meet the needs of the people there and to conserve what makes Sikkim different. So we saw the Chief Minister dressed in flat cap and tweeds expounding organic farming, and other pictures of him in business suits talking about eco tourism. There seemed to be a definite feeling that together with India Sikkim can be stronger but also stay special and green. I remember a particularly good banner that read;
“The Wealth of the Plains depends on the Health of the Hills!”

The next day followed a now familiar pattern; a brilliant downhill to a hot, low river valley followed by a long steep climb back up again. This time the climb to Tashiding was not too steep and went through lovely shady woods where massive butterflies flitted above us. The distance was short and by lunchtime we were in a very cute wooden hotel sheltering from a storm. From Tashiding we could easily see Rabongla on the opposite side of the valley, tantalisingly close. In Sikkim you can only cycle short distances each day to end up a short crow’s flight from where you started, but in between we are forced to loose all our height and then climb slowly back up again.

That night we meet Dominique and Tendi Sherpa, our friends from the bar in Rabongla the previous night, and Dominique takes us to enjoy our first taste of the local brew. Toomba is a hot millet beer, drank through a bamboo straw, you just keep topping up your mug all night with boiling water for a really very peasant drink that actually tastes like strong spirits. As it is home made though it can vary quite a lot in sweetness and strength.

We also climbed up to the monastery at Tashiding and found the place really enchanting. The artwork is great. This is Tibetan style Buddhism and maroon clothed monks are commonly sighted around Sikkim. The monasteries here have some very important religious texts and huge prayer wheels that were really hypnotic to turn. Also at Tashiding all our sins were absolved! We looked upon one of the most sacred stupas there and apparently it has this effect.

We set off for Yuksom late the next morning having been told it was practically level and only 20km away. However when buying petrol (from a can) an old guy showed me his toe; it was covered in dirt and had a big ugly gash in it. I was a bit put out, my first reaction was, I’m not a nurse, go and wash it. So I told him water and soap in Hindi. Anyway after buying our fuel and seeing his pathetic attempt to clean his toe I realised it was time for us to unpack our rather large first aid kit that I have carried across 25 countries and thankfully rarely needed. I am not really very good at first aid. I have done all the theory many times but never really put it into practice. Anyway I was much too gentle with this old guy who did not have any English to tell me if it hurt anyway. Eventually I managed to clean away all the muck and dead skin and give him some antiseptic and bandages. It was not as bad as it had looked, but if it had not been cleaned soon would have quickly become septic. We asked why he did not go to the nurse or his wife, but got no real answer. However later we figured that it had probably happened quite late the previous evening and that he had just had a drink because it hurt. Also later when we were cycling up on the steep 5 km climb out of town we passed the health clinic and realised he would have had to limp quite along way to get help, so it was much better for him to ask the foreigner for help instead. As I was nursing the old guy a crowd had formed and soon I had two other old men asking all manner of medical questions, but we managed to explain we only had very simple medicines and were not doctors! I felt really happy after managing to help the old man, I hope his toe healed properly, I left him with instructions to bathe it in salt water…

The road to Yuksom was as usual up and down and after our delay it was the hottest part of the day, but we managed to find potato pakora halfway and 3 hours later arrived in the small village. Yuksom was the first capital of Sikkim and the site where the Kingdom of Sikkim was founded by an important Lama who crossed the Himalaya from the Tibet. Surrounded by forests and several important monasteries we sat in the late afternoon sun watching trains of yaks wander up the road and listening to the distant sound of horns and bells from the hilltop monasteries, before paying a visit to the Coronation Throne where Sikkim was founded and the nearby sacred lake - more of a muddy green pond filled with frogs.

Yuksom is also the starting point for treks to Kachenjunga National Park. Kachenjunga/Kangchendzonga is the third highest mountain in the world, India’s highest mountain and the most easterly of the peaks over 8000m. Budha our guide arrived that night with the box of food we had bought in Gangtok and we were set to begin our trek, locking our bikes up in the hotel and exchanging our wheels for walking boots.

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