Hippy heaven: McCleod Ganj


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April 15th 2011
Published: April 15th 2011
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I am sitting having a pedicure in McCleod Ganj. I'm in a barber's shop, sitting on a bucket, as a young Indian boy painstakingly paints my toenails gold. 'Lovely colour,' I exclaim enthusiastically, to break the silence. Three large hairy men, having their haircut in front, peer round to check. They nod, unsmilingly, but seemingly in approval.

This is Dalai Lama town: home to the Tibetan government in exile for around 50 years. It has a thriving community of Tibetan refugees, and an almost cosmopolitan feel. There are a lot of travellers, of all ages. But the local community is equally strong.

It's a very comfortable place for western travellers. Cafes serve lattes and offer wi-fi. Lone Brits and Europeans pose moodily with their macs, composing a novel, or a work of philosophy. Or maybe just playing angry birds.

We meet an Australian couple, out visiting their daughter. She converted to being a buddhist monk, several years ago, and is one of the few white faces in the monastery.They talk knowledgeably about buddhism and meditation. People know about this stuff here.

The Dalai Lama himself is in town. We see him one day - briefly, through a windscreen as he drives past. His temple is small, but interesting. The Tibetan museum there even more so. The Tibet situation was on the fringes of my awareness. Reading the full history, it seems like China is engaged in a full-scale destruction of a culture and a way of life. Now they own the debt of western countries, who's going to stop them?

McCleod Ganj is a fascinating place, and very easy to pass time in. And yet it isn't the best week I've had in India. I fall sick with a stomach bug, sobbing into my toast as the pain starts. It's an odd, uncomfortable week in some ways.

Still, we end the week on a high, in the poshest hotel I've ever stayed in. Apparently Richard Gere stays there when he's in town. The rooms are decorated exquisitely. There's a kettle and a hairdryer in the room. And I realise I am irredeemably north-Londonified when I get incredibly excited by the best muesli I've ever tasted.

On the final day we leave at 6am for Kashmir. Which turns out to be an altogether different adventure...

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