Leh: A Travelogue

chillibreeze writer — Kavitha Rayirath

Need an editable PowerPoint map of India

Chronicles of a crazy trio’s Delhi-Manali-Leh experiment

14th June, out of the blue

Good-friend-who-works-with-Nike (Yup, we get discounts) calls:
Manisha: “Hey, Parmesh and I are leaving for Leh, You guys want to come?”
Rajiv (that’s my husband): “Wow"
Me: “Wow”
Rajiv: “I’m tied up, but why don’t you go?
Me: “But…”
Rajiv: “I’ll foot the bill”
Me: (at work, a few hours later) “Hey, I’m leaving for Leh”
Moans. Gasps. Sighs.
Boss: “Go ahead, have fun.”
Everyone at work: “You lucky *&^%#!”
Me: “Hmm. This trip already sounds like fun.”
Manisha: “Parmesh is already in Delhi. Have to fly there on 16th – that’ll be 9200 bucks”
Me: Gulp. Broke before the journey starts. What a great way to start a budget-backpacking trip!

15th June, frantic packing

Me: “Is it hot there?”
Internet: Yes
Me: “Is it cold there?”
Internet: Yes
45 kg Rug sack gets too heavy, disaster strikes, DEFCON 4 called. Sack emptied of contents; like sleeping bag and too many sweaters.
Manisha: (coming to my rescue) “Don’t worry; I’m carrying a jacket for you.”

16th June, Delhi, here we come!

Manisha: (laden with what looks like luggage for forty days, looking at my measly half empty rug sack) “Is that it?”

At the Delhi airport
Parmesh: (looking at my rug sack) Is that it?

Spent the day in Delhi, lazing around, catching up with friends.
The deluxe bus to Manali is at 8:30pm from ISBT. Make it just in time.

17th June, honeymoon in Manali

Manisha: “Let’s spend some time in Manali; I’ve heard it’s a cool place.”
Parmesh: “Yeah”
Me: “Yeah”
Bus stops at Manali bus station; we peek out, and see swarms of honeymooners mooning over each other.
Manisha, Parmesh and Me: “When’s the next bus out?”

Found an auto driver, Himesh, found us a place to stay (Hotel Tourist, little out of the way, overlooks an apple orchard and mountains, charges 350/- for a double room).

Dumped our bags there, rushed to the bus stop to find vehicles to Leh. All buses and cars started at 2 am the next day. And reached Leh at 6 pm the same day. But we’d heard that the journey to Leh was exceptional, so we wanted to take it slow. Found an ex-army guy who everyone called Fouji (even his cars were called Fouji No 1). He told us we could rent a Scorpio for 8 thou. If we found someone to share it with, the cost per head would be much lower. So we left word at a few places, but time was too short. And since we were doing it in two days, we needed someone as jobless as us to tag along. Difficult.

Had lunch at a Himalayan Dhaba, ordered a local Kullu dish called Sidu, which looked like a giant momo with poppy seeds crushed into it. Himesh came back to the hotel and offered to show us around. Had time to kill, so checked out the hot springs at Manali (Vashist), Hidimba temple (where for ten bucks you can pose with a disgruntled Yak, cuddle an highly shampooed angora rabbit, hold a python above sea level and looking ridiculous in local attire that even the locals don’t wear) and a Buddhist monastry. Himesh took us everywhere. We thought he was being helpful. Later realised he charged us 250 bucks to show us places we could’ve walked to.

Note: Walk everywhere you want to in Manali. It’s walkable >> Stay away from the city center. It’s too commercial >> Don’t bother shopping in Manali, Delhi has far better deals. If you want to take home something for friends, buy dry fruits >> For breakfast, nothing better than the German Bakery, and for fresh trout, try the very popular Johnson Lodge. We had dinner there with armed guards and Omar Abdullah. Although not on the same table.

18th June, Manali

The next morning. Passing coniferous forests and green pasturelands to reach Rohtang Pass (3900 m)

Manisha: “Ooh Rohtang Pass.”
Parmesh: “Yeah, I’ve heard wild stories about this place. It’s the only access to Leh from here”
Me: “Wow, now the adventure begins”
The Scorpio stops at what looks like a mass of dirty snow, several dhabas, and a hundred punjabis wearing rented fur coats and dancing to Juggy D blaring on their car speakers.
Manisha, Parmesh and Me: “Let’s get out of here.”

From then on Rohtang has become a code word for balle balle. We escaped and found ourselves in undiscovered territory (undiscovered by panju’s that is). From Rohtang through Lahoul where the road to Spiti diverges on the way, and this is the best part, we saw Dalai Lama and his entourage, on his way back from Spiti.

We went onto Koksar to Chandra Valley to Keylong to Darcha and Zingzing Bar (so named because people feel a zzzzzzzzinging sensation while they go up the roads). Mortally afraid of drivers falling asleep on the wheel on long journeys, I have a habit of asking questions, just to make sure the driver stays awake. Manisha and Parmesh found this hilarious, and nicknamed me the question bank.

Me: ‘Where’s your village, who do you pray to, how far is the next village, what do you eat, are you married, how many children do you have, when does it start snowing in Leh, why is this place called Zingzing bar?”
Parmesh and Manisha: “Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha, oh God no, not another one”

Had planned earlier to stay at Sarchu, which is flat land surrounded by mountains, where one can spend the night in tents. But it was about 6:00pm and Babloo (Fouji’s son, our driver and guide) told us that the army doesn’t permit anyone that side after five, so we halted at Jispa. Which had only one place to stay, The Ibex hotel. Expensive, since he makes money only three months a year. The view there was phenomenal though, both from our room and from outside. There was the river Bhaga running along huge mountains and pebbles everywhere. We sat at the banks of the river, watched the last of the sunset, and spent the rest of the night lying on our backs staring at the sky of diamonds. It was soooo peaceful.

Note: Halt at Jispa for your overnight stay. Though on the way back we saw a wider road being built, maybe too many people haven’t discovered this stop yet>>Also, there’s a museum in this village, see it if you can>>Sarchu is also a great place to stop over if Jispa seems too tame.

19th June, Sarchu (4000 m)

Started the next morning, halted at Sarchu, the tent oasis. Those tent pegs must have been really strong, because with the force of the wind blowing, we felt we could fly. Some locals had dhabas in the tents, and we pigged to our hearts content.

Manisha: “Ooh aloo subji, aloo parantha.”
Parmesh: “Do you have eggs and maggi?”
Me: “Do you have some Gelusil?”

Eggs cost more, as does Maggi. These dhabas are incredibly warm inside and they serve butter tea (which tastes like cornflour soup with lots of salt). Inside are beds, in case one needs to stay, they are yours for 60 bucks. But be prepared to share it with weary truckers and the like.

Wrapped up tightly in mufflers and jackets and socks we journeyed onto Lachang La (16,600 ft) and descended into Pang (4800 m) and the Moray plains (a 45 km long plateau), which are mostly barren with scraggly grass and strapped on both sides with a range of snow-capped mountains. The mountains seemed to take on a different personality every time the clouds shift a little. Sometimes blue, sometimes grey, each photograph captured a different shade. That’s when the difference in terrain really strikes you. Himachal had streams running everywhere and Ladakh was bare, dry and scraggly.

Pang was where we saw what would later stick in our memories as the ideal postcard from our trip. Flocks of the nomadic Chang Pa herdspeople that graze their sheep and goats in the plains and only return to lower altitudes in winter. Water is scarce here, as is food, so often the herdspeople are out of both. The army trucks that pass by carry extra water and food for the nomads. Even tourists are encouraged to do so by the locals. We stopped and took pictures with the nomads, gave them some of our food and water and chocolates, and wished that we had more to give.

Reluctantly left Pang, and journeyed onto Dibring Camp and chugged upwards to Tanglangla, the second highest pass in the world (17,469 ft). I was certain I’d die in the cold. It was snowing and there was this swift wind that made my breath freeze and my head pound. I realised later that it was just altitude sickness. Our resident quack, Parmesh, had a dozen medicines to recommend, and thankfully, some of them helped. The fresh snow made the roads so slippery. But Babloo was unfazed.

Once over the Taglang-la, the descent to the Indus starts, and soon one passes the first village, Rumtse. The road follows the Gya River down to the Indus at Upshi, from where it’s plain sailing to Leh, past the Indus valley villages of Karu, Stakna, Thikse, Shey and finally the Tibetan village at Choglamsar, before entering the Leh. All this, we passed late at night, so all we could see were some gompas lit up with lamps and endless black nothingness.

We entered the city and in street light, saw large prayer wheels, statues of Buddha and colorful prayer flags strewn everywhere. Manali taxis are not allowed to stay on in Leh. Tourists have to book Leh taxis for journeys within Leh. The unions are very particular about this. Or we would have loved to keep him with us for the trip and drive back with him to Manali. Nothing in this trip was booked, so once in Leh, we had to find a place to stay. Asked a few guesthouses, most seemed to be booked or too expensive. At last found one, Ashoka Guest House.

A warm simple house with a canal running by it. The lady suspecting us to be Northies, wanted to know where we were from, the moment we said Bangalore, she loosened up and said ‘Nice place. OK, I have two rooms’. We dumped our rug sacks, went out, had food at the first place we could find, bid farewell to Babloo, got back and sacked out.

Note: Carry extra food and water, and if you have any clothes, to give away to the herds people. Drop them off the road at Pang or hand them to the numerous shepherds you’ll meet on the way. They live a tough life where sometimes don’t find water for days, and any help is welcome >> Carry a thick pair of gloves to keep your hands warm and something for your ears as well. The winds are murderous and can freeze you >>There are plenty of cheap family run guesthouses in Leh. Accommodation is not much problem, water and electricity often is.

Leh City, In the dead of night.

Entering Leh in the night had left us unprepared for what morning light would reveal to our eyes. Leh is surrounded on all four sides by scraggly rocky mountains. It looks like a forgotten land. A ruined Tibetan-style palace made of mud-brick and concrete stands guard over the city as its inhabitants walk up and down the roads, markets and the stairs that connect the lower and upper layers of the city. Ladakh has a fair share of backpackers and trekkers come in every year. So its very well prepared for adventure tourism. Everyone you see has a backpack, a map and a bad sunburn.

Among the string of picturesque villages and gompas within reach by bus are Shey, site of a derelict seventeenth-century palace, the spectacular Tikse gompa and the Hemis gompa, the largest in the region. Tikse has a huge statue of the sitting Buddha.

Since Leh is cut-off from the world for around 8 months each year, they have to get most of the necessary cargo (like building materials, etc) during the 3-months' season. But they are connected by air almost throughout the year. Though the villages on the Manali-Leh highway remain completely isolated for 8-9 months a year.

20th June, Leh City, Julay (Namaste in Ladhaki)

Shanti Stupa, Markets, Indus Festival

Looked for some Fouji cars at the Leh bus stand, but couldn’t find any, so booked bus tickets for our journey back.

21st June, Leh

Shey, Thiksey, Hemis, Choglamsar, Khardungla

There was so much still left for us to see. We had a mere three days in Leh. We vowed to be back to see the Zanskar and Nubra Valley, the blue-green Pangong Tso (Lake), the 7,000m Nun peak and to seriously trek. Or better, bike it to Khardungla.

22nd June, Leh

Woke up at three am. Walked through dark unlit streets, with only a very vague idea of where the bus stand was.

Parmesh: “Where’s the torch”
Dogs: “Grrrrrrrr”
Me: “Oops, it’s in my backpack, somewhere in it. Hold on…shit, its too dark, can’t see a thing”
Parmesh: “Grrrrrr…How the hell do we find the bus stand now?”

Thankfully, saw a bus passing by, and followed it till we reached the bus stand. Got on.

The journey back was terrible. The bus was falling apart. Since the wind was freezing outside, all the windows were shut and the Yak milk smell from someone was stinking up the bus. To top it all, someone puked, and it never got better. My seatmate was a kind teacher, who told me stories about the mountains, of Malana Cream, of the tourists he’s met…had a good chat (with my nose and mouth covered with a thick shawl, so I wouldn’t have to breathe in the foul air).

Stayed overnight in a small motel, with a great view, in Keylong. REsumed journey the next day.

23rd June, Back to Manali

The ride was so horrid that the three of us were actually happy to see Manali. Got off and raced to Johnsons Lodge and had a sumptuous lunch. Got back, and onto another bus to Delhi. Reached.

24th June, Back to Delhi

Parmesh stayed back at a friend’s place. And Manisha and I spent some time at Janpath. Got frantic calls from Parmesh at the station, and realised that it was time for the train.

Manisha and I ran in, backpacks and all, just as the train was pulling out of the station. Jumped in just in time. And couldn’t help grinning.

What a way to end this adventurous trip.

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Kavitha writes for chillibreeze.

Leh: A Travelogue

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