Three Holy Lakes & A Desert

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Moving on from Pelling really wasn’t as easy as you’d hope - ‘You can check out but you can never leave’. I made the classic faux pas of trying to travel between towns on a national holiday and as is the way here, the holiday spewed itself over into subsequent days becoming a period of enforced dormancy. All very happy if you’re somewhere you intend to be, but Pelling is a dead town which doesn’t so much as draw you in, as sit on you. As is the way though, once you’ve realised that the one jeep passing through town that day is blatantly not going to stop for you, you make a new plan and make the best of your opportunities. Having decided to leave town by foot, the guys I met at my hostel and I made a short, but lung-collapsingly steep hike up to a near-by monastery. The views from which were breathtaking, and more to the point, the isolation and sense of solitude there was enveloping. We stayed there over night with the caretaker and his family who delighted in plying us with chang (the local home-made liquor) and a meal made from the dregs of fish. Clearly I used a number of my stock get-out clauses on both accounts and the guys seemed to deeply regret not doing the same. It was however very gorgeous hospitality and so far removed from the experience of Pelling, it may as well have been in a different country.

The next day we had a mammoth journey, but did get ourselves on that solitary jeep and finally managed to escape Hotel California to arrive in Yuksom, the most heart-warming place I’ve been to for a very long time. Yuksom is also a small rural place, but it has a soul. The people there love their home town and want you to love it as much. The reason why it’s on the tourist map is that it’s the trail head for a classic 8-day trek into the Himalayas, but enough already, I was there to sit, chat and eat some Western-style comfort food. Oh how happy was I? I genuinely have no idea how long I stayed in Yuksom, but it was the greater part a week - loved every minute. I did manage one day of activity and to be fair, it was a hard-core one at that. I hiked with Charlie, one of the guys from Pelling, to a holy lake and back. It was only 9km each way so really should be very doable. What we didn’t know however, was that the trail leads over, not around, two impressive hills. We also didn’t know that the trail was poorly signposted. Having enjoyed an extensive detour, we finally arrived, had a little wander and grabbed some lunch. Confident that we would take the more direct route home, we decided we had time for a game of chess before starting back. I’m sure your mind is now pre-empting this little story. As we got engrossed in our game, we discovered that it was 4pm already and it gets dark at 5.30. Regardless of how fit we may or may not be, 9km of cantankerous topography refuses to be covered in 90 minutes. We ended up stumbling down rocky paths at a worrying speed for about an hour. It was a toss up between sure and steady in the dark, and fast and precarious with daylight. The rest of the journey was lit only with the determination in our eyes as the moon seemed reluctant to accompany us. In the end we went for the grown up option and walked along the road for the final couple of hours. This meant adding a chunk of extra kilometres, but we did at least make it in one piece. Note to self: hiking up steep hills in the pitch black for long periods of time is less than fun! When we arrived at the gorgeous little thatched veranda where we ate ever night, a couple of other travellers told us about a local man who accompanies tourists as a guide on the 8-day treks. The man had just left that morning with a new group, he seemingly put a foot wrong on a rocky stretch of trail, and that was sadly the end of him. A bit of a shocker really, especially as he was so familiar with the path - quite sobering!

When eventually I tore myself away from the beautiful mountains of West Sikkim, I was treated to a 5 hour jeep ride of more of the same, plus the odd aqua blue river and capacious valley (we’ll skip over the woman throwing up in the seat next to me!). Arriving in Gangtok, the Sikkim Capital, I soon realised that the whole of Sikkim is in fact utterly breathtaking. Even Gangtok itself is scenically strewn across numerous tree-spattered hillsides - very reminiscent of Darjeeling in fact, though with slightly less pollution and tourist hubbub. You can really see why Sikkim had no desire to be part of India and only very recently gave in and relinquished its sovereignty. One of the best moments for me in Gangtok was on my last night there. I went to a bar to get some food as it was a bit late and all the restaurants had closed. The place was a little dodgy and had a set of ‘interesting’ characters in it, but nothing exceptional. Mid-meal, I was joined by a couple of guys who predictably dived into the usual demographic questions and I really wasn’t up for playing along that night. Five minutes later however, one of the guys was still beaming his smile and was determined to talk to me so I relented and a whole new perspective opened for me. The guy is a Tibetan Refugee called Jason Reeves. Clearly that’s not his name, but coming to India has necessitated him working in a call centre as its one of the few types of employment that don’t require you to have all the correct residency papers. Call centres here still insist on their staff pretending that they’re in the country that they are phoning despite everyone knowing the contrary. This façade even includes giving telephone operators a ‘culturally-appropriate’ name - hence ‘Jason Reeves’. Not only, it seems, do refugees have to leave their homes, culture and communities behind, but also their identities. ‘Jason’, who’s name I did ask and used that night, but to my shame I can no longer remember, is an amazing guy who broke so many stereotypes. Of course, the term ‘refugee’ comes loaded with assumptions, but Jason challenges them all. I had a great night talking to him and his friend about some really meaty subjects. What made me smile the most was that despite the fact that he’s hugely educated, very fluent in English and pretty well resourced, his dream is to return to shepparding in the hills - it is his love and a priceless reflection of his culture. The guys left just before I did. As I went to pay, I was told that my bill had already been settled. I left the bar to find Jason and mate astride a massive Royal Enfield motorbike. I shouted my protests at their generosity, to which they retorted; ‘we’re friends now’. After declining a bike-tour of town, I watched my new friends ride off into the moonlight. Clearly, I know myself the futility and hostility of labelling people, but more and more on this trip I am seeing other people’s perspectives of the truth behind the labels and I find it strangely empowering.

From Gangtok to Delhi. A world apart and 24 hours away - if your train is on time that is! Mine was 8 hours late. Add on the 5 hours of jeep journey to get to the station and it took me 37 hours door to door. I’m now relatively used to such marathons and so was pretty equipped with entertainment, but still, that long on any vehicle can be pretty suffocating as I’m sure many of you know. Thankfully, I already know Delhi a little bit of course from the month I spent there earlier in the year, this means that the usual nightmare of arriving to a wall of hassle and a barrage of touts was easily avoided. I knew exactly where and how I was going - to a VSO mate’s house for a catch up and a nice warm shower. Delhi was a pleasure to be in. I do really like South Delhi; its comfortable, clean and easy - it also has numerous spots in which you can dose up on all those treats that seem so illusive outside of the major cities. I found good chocolate cake, a great book shop, English movies at the cinema (saw Bond - really not special), alcohol in a funky bar and peace in the magnificent Lodhi Gardens. All very smiley. Of course, I also found the usual dose of mind-boggling frustrations, but that comes with the territory. Being in Delhi was also a good opportunity to say goodbye to the lovely people in the VSO head office and to pick up some very appreciated rupees that I was still owed.

My intention was always to head north again from Delhi, though this time to Ley & the rest of Ladakh on the other side of Nepal. Sadly, I realised a month or so ago that this was never going to happen as the weather would beat me - which of course it did. Mid-October is really the end of the season up there as the snow closes the mountain passes down. Sadly, then I had to miss that little trip out, but I still went up to Amritsar for a brief weekend visit as I couldn’t bare to leave without seeing the Golden Temple. Amritsar is in the very North of the Punjab and is note-worthy only for being home to the Golden Temple: the holiest of holy places for Sikhs and therefore of course a major pilgrimage destination. The Golden Temple is the centre piece of a vast complex of beautiful buildings which all contribute to make it a mind-blowing place to be. Indeed, in my opinion, it stands up well to comparison with the Taj Mahal. The Taj is possibly the most stunning building in the world and has a unique energy, but the Golden Temple complex drip feeds you with tranquillity and invites you to one of the world’s ultimate experiences. The temple itself is on an island in the centre of a holy lake which is bound by a quadrangle of stunning buildings. The temple, as you’ll imagine, is golden; the marble structure is capped with phenomenal amounts of pure gold. It has three-stories of the most intricate and ostentatious decoration imaginable. I was lucky enough to go inside at night time, and to see the gold glow in the moonlight was captivating. In a place which takes the passion and fervour of over 40,000 pilgrims everyday and transforms it into calm, peace and tangible spirituality, to stand back from that and soak it up is special indeed, particularly stood in the centre of it all on the temple roof under the vast golden dome. I felt very lucky to be there. People generally come to bathe in the waters and to make offerings at the temple, but as a voyeur, I was even more interested in the pilgrims themselves. The best place to experience the general melee was in the dining room. As you may know, Gurdwaras (Sikh temples) all over the world are always open to all people of all faiths and they offer free food and accommodation. Picture 40,000 people eating and sleeping in one place if you can! I truly reckon that the Golden Temple’s dining hall has to be the world’s largest eatery. As you enter the colossal building, you are given a thali dish, bowl and spoon. You then follow the queue to the relevant dining room and sit cross-legged in vast rows on the floor. Each room holds about 400-500 diners in a sitting. As you eat, the room below or above is being cleared and so on in rotation such that there is always a cycle in which the dining never stops 24/7. Once sat, an army of servers ply you with a ladle full of veg, dahl and rice and then a roti man comes round and drops you your daily bread until your thali is complete. Eating is done quickly out of respect for the would-be diners waiting outside. Having eaten, the miracle is revealed. The cooking and washing up operations are beyond comprehension and are housed in an area even larger than the dining halls. The whole set-up is run by volunteers, not structured teams in any way, but pilgrims who take a couple of hours out of their day to do their bit. Anyone is welcome to wash some plates, serve some food, give out crockery and so on, and they do in their hundreds, if not thousands. The cooking is done in vats that are at least 6ft across, the wood store which supplies the fires is of mountainous proportions, the armies of washer-upers work as part of an impressive systematic chain that links satiated diners and their empty plates back to the hungry masses at the front door and their grateful hands. It is undoubtedly another noteworthy example of just how phenomenal Indian systems and planning can be when it’s desired enough. How all this is funded is beyond me, donations are welcomed, but really, that much food, wood, power and so on has to cost big-style. Anyway, for me, the people-watching opportunity that that meal afforded was the best I’ve ever experienced and although the meal itself was pretty average, I’ve never enjoyed a meal so much. That night I stayed in one of the pilgrims’ hostels within the complex and spent many hours watching and absorbing that remarkable place.

Whilst I was up in that neck of the woods, I took myself off to Atari on the Pakistan border. This is the only border crossing open between India and Pakistan and has become a real tourist trap, not for changing countries, but for watching the bizarre militarial goings-on. At the end of everyday, literally thousands of people flood to the border area and pack out the purpose-built stadia which face each other from either side of the crossing. The show they’ve come to see is a representation of the historically tension between the two nations, but is very much lighter than that sounds and nowadays intends to be a show of cordiality and is certainly good fun. The crowds are whipped into a seething mass of chanting and clapping that proclaims the superiority of either side. Then soldiers perform the rituals involved in taking down of flags and closing the border which I can only describe as a text-book lesson from the ministry of silly walks. We’re talking knees up and kick out simultaneously type-marching - freaky stuff. Shed loads of provado and general campery later, the border is finally closed for the night and people slowly return to whence they came. I’m not sure it was worth the effort of getting there, but it did certainly make me chuckle.

So after another overnight stop in Delhi, I’ve now started my long journey South. First port of call is Pushkar, a very small town in Rajasthan. In line with my theme of new transport experiences, I decided to take a sleeper bus. This is not a coach with reclining seats as you might imagine, but literally contains a bank of bed-pods like you’d imagine Japanese businessmen using for a quick nap at train stations; very odd and disorientating, not to mention scandalously dangerous. Like everything else in this country, they are designed for people under 5ft 6 and so they’re also less than comfy. Won’t be doing that again! Anyway, Pushkar is built on another holy lake and is famed for playing host to Rajasthan’s biggest festival - The Pushkar Camel Fair. It just so happens that the fair took place this month and so I timed my visit to coincide. For a town of 15,000 people, it does a pretty impressive job of hosting the 200,000 visitors and 50,000 livestock that descend upon the place for those ten days. Inevitably though, it’s completely mad; swarms of people everywhere you look and no-one knows where they’re going. The festival itself is basically a camel market cum fun fair cum freak show and so arriving on the last day as I did served me well as I didn’t miss too much, yet got a flavour of the goings-on without nipping my head too badly; many of the other tourists here are visibly waning under the strain of the past few days. I’m now staying on for a couple more days to get a sense of Pushkar’s normality. It’s a cute little place, not much to see, but gorgeous lakeside sunsets and lots of scrummy food.

Right, time to go out for a wander. I hope we’re all happy in our new optimistic Bush-free world. Lots of love to you all. Me. xx

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Photos

Tibetan Prayer Wheel
This massive wheel graced one of the Monasteries in Yuksom.

More of gorgeous Sikkim
This is on the way to Gangtok

Gangtok
Taken from a cable car at the very top of the city.

The Golden Temple
Isn't she pretty!

The Bridge
The queue you can see in the fore-ground represents the five-hour wait to get into the Temple - I waited 20 minutes! - the privileges of staying there.

Cooking the veggies
Unbelievable!

Ministry of silly walks
These are the Indian soldiers just getting started at the Pakistan border - hardly fearsome are they!

More beautiful colours
These are in the audience at the Pushkar Fair

Comments

[latinocappuccinos]

Local brew polite turn down, good idea!
Diplomacy in some matters are a good idea! esp when it comes to local brew or food that could have you sitting on the toilet for a few days! Sound's like your having a stunning time and have even stunning pictures to boot. Andy is lapping them up cause he really want to go to this part of the world. As for marraige..he he, dont know. i guess i wouldnt rule it out in all honesty but to be honest, joint bank account and wallet for travelling and getting misty dog when we get back, oh and a house, pretty much makes us half way there. but its a good thing. Andy would want the whole pomp and affair of a wedding and me. Me and him on a beach in cornwall and then a big party afterwards. so comprise city, if it ever happended! god I am hearing myself...I am sooo looking forward to going home! having an amazing time here but looking forward to new job, misty dog, house...i have an urge for kitchen tables, radio 4, compost, garden, sewing and baking!! Costa Rica is the most amazing place. So lush and green. Unfortuntley we have hit the end of rainey season and its a bit harsh on the budget so we are moving on tomorrow. ecological they seem to be getting it right, people are freindly and helpfull...soicalisam seems to be in practise, but not perfect. even san jose is a relaxed city with much culture. well ballet in the amazing national theatre and then the local gay clubs drag contest final. rough and ready with much gloria estefan lip sinking. camp was not the word! but the best thing about costa rica is the hombres...jesus! hot, hot, hot! latin inches mucho! I get the thing about everything being designed for small people, i get constant stares and giggles from young women..which is quite sweet...but bus travel is good but a little lapse on leg room. it took 4 and half hours to go 87 kms the other day! even more me that was painfull, so you can guess andys trip! Well. i have written lots and lots. should have emailed but its done now. so mr you take care and enjoy your travels. lots of love. Paulo xxx