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Published: October 24th 2011
On our third day in Ladakh it was finally time for our first longer excursion. We were still quite groggy in the morning after yet another exhausting night; it seemed we were not yet fully recovered from the change of altitude. The thought of leaving the warm bed, now a fortress of blankets and jackets layered on top of each other like the Earth's geological strata, and setting foot on what must surely be ice cold tiles in the bathroom felt just as alien and uninviting as trying to walk on the moon without an encounter suit. Then there was the promise of hot water nagging in the back of my head, I just knew I would be in for disappointment on that front. But surely the hotel manager had reassured us that yes hot water was available, all we'd need to do was turn on the tap and let the water run for a while so as to melt any lingering ice in the piping. I considered calling the reception and ask for a bucket of hot water instead, but decided to bite the bullet and went into the shower and opened the valve at full blast.
The tiles
Kay during a quick photo break
If we'd stopped the car at every photogenic opportunity, we wouldn't have gotten very far.were exactly as freezing as I had imagined and a cold smoke was coming out of my mouth. But hot water... no. After a few minutes of no discernable change in ambient water temperature I decided we were out of luck and phoned the reception. They again instructed us to let the water run while they would send someone up with a bucket. The thought of seeing all this water run by in this dry and remote place made me feel very self-conscious and a sense of guilt started creeping up my spine. There was a knock on the door and the manager and a staffer appeared in heavy winter clothes and went inside the bathroom to have a look. He put the water back on full blast and we waited for a few (very long) minutes until he would accept defeat and asked his staffer to bring some water and instructed us to keep the water running before he left. Eventually we got our steaming hot water and proceeded with a makeshift hot shower which was a slight terror to the skin having to endure the constant shift of cold air and hot water. Of course in the end
Stakna goemba
The monastery of Stakna, perched on a hillock along the Indus river. It's name, Tiger's Nose, refers to the shape of the hill it sits upon. it did feel better though and we could waltz down to the empty restaurant to have our toast and tea just as Team Sonam was about to come pick us up.
Today we'd go on a daytrip due east, to cover some of the monasteries that were hiding out in the Indus valley just east of Leh. When I plotted the trip I had grouped monasteries according to their directions out of Leh to try and decide how many days we would need to catch them all. Just as was the case with the Bhutan trip, I kept finding and adding more destinations. Although I did go completely overboard in the sheer number of monasteries there still seemed to be a fair chance to cover them all, and in hindsight I am happy that we decided to stick around in Ladakh for one extra day compared to what we originally planned, not only did we manage to see more of this amazing region but it also meant one less day in Delhi.
After breakfast we jumped into the car and Sonam the driver took us through the bustling city morning as the citizens headed for their various activities.
The sky was clear blue and the sun out to blast us with its warm rays as we left Leh on the highway due east. We'd circled three compounds in the east out of the seven spots I'd marked on the map, the large monastery of Hemis in the southeast end of the valley and then we'd cover the iconic monastery of Thiksey, looking like a miniature version of the Potala of Lhasa, and the former palace of Shey, now mainly acting as yet another temple, both situated along the highway back to Leh.
The highway follows the Indus river as it snakes its way through the local geography, with dusty plains as well as beautiful hills and mountains on both sides. Sleepy communities and dozens, if not hundreds, of stupas line the road in various shapes and sizes. On the road we pass the magnificent Stakna monastery, perched on a hillock overseeing the river, and after a brief photo stop in the pleasant weather I couldn't wait to get to see it up close, but before then we'd been criss-crossing the entire province. Following the road eastwards, the hills and peaks on the northern side are brown and
earthen in colour, while the mountains on the south side, the outcrops of the Himalayas, are jagged grey rock with a very attractive white zebra pattern, the last remaining snow and ice of the season clinging to the last places of shade.
With the highway in good shape and a distance of about 45 kilometers out of Leh, the journey to Hemis goemba is not that long. Nearing the monastery there is a junction in the highway, at an army checkpoint and base by the riverside. We cross the river on a narrow bridge draped in hundreds of colourful prayer flags and head on to a dusty track slithering up along the plateau toward the foot of the mountains. There are no communities up here on the plain. Save for the occasional stupa, the fields on the slopes are quite empty. Looking ahead at the mountains we still see no evidence of any monastery. The geological formations are absolutely awesome, the rock strata tumbling down toward the ground at a 45 degree angle.
The Hemis goemba itself has apparently existed since the 11th century, though in its present incarnation "only" for some 300 years. Now it is one
of the largest and most important monasteries of the Drukpa Kargyu lineage of Tibetan Buddhism in Ladakh. According to the old wiki it was reestablished by the then Ladakhi king Singye Namgyal in 1672. The monastery and the Hemis village are cleverly perched on a mountain ledge hidden from outside view, a safeguard against the marauding hordes of the turbulent historic era of the region.
The large rectangular buildings line a huge courtyard where the annual festival takes place in honour of Guru Rinpoche (or Padmasambhava). On this early spring day though, the place is quite sleepy and only a handful of visitors are around. Sonam our guide scurries up the stairs to the monastery like the mountain goat that he is, while Kay and I follow as best we can, panting and snapping some photos in the process.
The air is chilly inside the main temple. Lines of low wooden seats painted in dark red, monk's seats, lead up to an altar with various deities and masked protectors decorated with flowers and bowls of offerings in front. Light peers down through a well in the middle of the ceiling and is also unevenly distributed by naked bulbs
around the walls. The sweet smell of incense is all around and dust and smoke gently flickers in the daylight peering in from outside. A few discrete loudspeakers pour out haunting and evocative chanting. Hidden in another chamber sits a marvellous and several meters tall statue of Guru Rinpoche. High up on the walls we are overlooked by colourful depictions of protector deities in fearful forms as well as more peaceful bodhisattvas and arhats. Tantric Buddhism is full of fantastic art and I take great pleasure in studying its many incredible details. Thus, Kay and Sonam also need to put up with me lingering in every location looking carefully at all the intricate patterns and symbols, taking photos like crazy. Sometimes I think I should just leave everything on hold back home and spend a year digging myself deeper into the mythos, learning all its secrets.
Come noon though, it seemed my time was up and we prepared to head back towards Thiksey. We made a short stop in the slopes of Hemis village, fenced in fields and small naked trees lining the road, and befriending a few mules in the process.
(Continues in next blog entry)
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Dancing Dave
David Hooper
LADAKH
Ladakh...top of our "Wish List" but due to the small window of the year one can access...we rely on you for the pictures & stories...keep them coming, Johan.