Can't deny that the Khajjiar meadows were picture perfect!
A shepherd on the road...After negotiating a hard fought vacation of no less than three weeks from my corporate humdrum existence, I finally set off to Delhi along with Ambika, my wife of no less than three years. Well, actually, a little less than three years. We have quite a travel bug, the two of us, and it seems to visit us very periodically. I guess we haven’t got a permanent cure for it, which I suspect is a good thing after all.
It was the peak of summer in Bombay, the monsoon promising to deceive. It was fifth of June when we set off for Delhi in the Rajdhani. Darn, we got the side berths again! After what seemed to be yet another long unwieldy journey we reached a hotter city, if that were possible. A different kind of heat- one that could kill you faster.
Sixth June, 2000 hrs.
We spent a total of two evenings in Delhi; the first one was accompanied by a very Delhi sandstorm. The wind was as fast as eighty kilometers per hour, or so the Hindustan Times reported the next morning. We were safely drinking in the confines of the Palam Defence Officers Mess. Ambika and her Wg Cmdr uncle were on Royal Challenge with Soda, and me on Ciplox, Rum and Water. The less said about the Ciplox the better. When the showers that followed the storm ceased a bit we ran off to Nirula's at Vasant Vihar, near Priya. Hmmm, the salami Pizza remains the same as I first had in School, way back in the last century as does the HCF(Hot Chocolate Fudge, for the unfortunate uninitiated).
Seventh June, 1500 hrs
Its 5th June now, the Celsius which had dipped almost 10 degrees to 24, is back where it enjoys best, and we are hidden away in PVR Saket, trying to get scared by the return of the Ring. Naomi Watts is nice, the movie not so. Anyway we are raring to leave now. A brief last minute trip to a convenience store is in order. I can only think of Cheese Slices and Cup'o Noodles. Ambika is much more creative I guess. By the time we reach the check out counter, our bill has run up to almost seven hundred bucks - mostly essentials we must grant her.
Eighth June, 0500 hrs (eew!)
Jagdish and the double blower Qualis are parked outside. Jagdish is our polite Haryanavi driver, who has supposedly seen all of Himachal and then some. Bags are in and we are off to Dalhosuie. It’s a long drive via two states - Haryana and Punjab. We will hit Ludhiana, Jullundher, Pathankot and then the hills. A distance of almost 600 kms. We pay Rs 7.5 per km, a good deal wrangled out of a "connection", and you know what that means only if you are from Delhi. This way we are curving in to Himachal from the top left corner, after which we will gently slip down over the next thirteen days.
Around 1300 hrs, you hit the outskirts of the Jullundher cantonment. Theres this uber hip place called the Haveli which promises authentic Punjabi cuisine, and does it deliver. The Mutter Paneer and Rajma are out of the world. Tummies fed we are on our way again only to be briefly stopped by a Surdarji cop ( he could scare off Sunny Deol on any given day), apparently for jumping a light. Fortunately, its India, and a hundred bucks go a long distance.
The hills can be seen a few kilometers after Pathankot. Just a little hint and then full fledged. From Pathankot, Dalhousie is almost seventy kilometers, the last thirty odd through hills passing small villages (Banikhet and some equally non descript ones). A mini tempo has hit a Scorpio bringing traffic to a complete halt. After a lot of ineffective pleading and crowd pressure which doesn't help in getting either vehicle off, Jagdish squirms the car out of what seemed like a space insufficient for even a Maruti 800.
We are pretty tired now, and desperately in need of a hot bath. Entering Dalhousie, half of our tiredness is washed away. There is a breathtaking view of snow capped mountains, and the day couldnt be clearer. Its around an hour and a half from sundown, and we promise to shoot the mountains on reaching the hotel.
We try at a couple of hotels (Surya - 800 plus taxes - full, XXX - 800 -taxes waived off - dirty), and then spot Himdhara. Its on the same road as the others, the one leading to Gandhi Chowk (where the GPO and Mall road lie). A flight of steps down, and you enter this small hotel which overlooks the hills. The sound of the screaming kids from XXX is distant here, and you get a panoramic view of the valley and the mountains afar. We quickly settle to a room tarriff of Rs. 600. Clean beds, geyser and home like food, Sounds like a deal.
We have to figure out what all to see tomorrow, plan the Khajjiar trip and yeah - the hot bath. In all of this the shoot schedule is skipped. The food is made to order - Zeera Aloo and Dal Makhani it is for us. Having got the food ordered, we walk up to the Mall (Jagdish is absconding) - a five minute climb. There is a small market, lest the word Mall remind you of the one in Simla.
We bought some music for the car, and sipped a quick cup of black coffee. Bodies are tire d and its getting mildly chilly. Its about time to hit a small Rum, with the hot food following. We gulped down the food quickly, watched over the lights in the valleys and retired to a very deserved sleep. Good Night.
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Ninth June, 0930 hrs (Ambs)
First thing I remember the room was flooded with light. Bright mountain sunlight. I was sure it was eleven or twelve in the morning - something about the mountains just messes up my sense of time – it was only nine o’ clock in the morning! Good thing we woke up early, somehow the body clock works more accurately when you are close to nature – in the city I can be sleeping till twelve and I would not really know!
The mountains outside were clear – snow capped peaks in the distance, crowning the vista. Something about the hotel we were staying in was pretty homely – it hardly felt like an alien place, even the town felt kinda known. I don’t know if the place espouses you or we – espouse the place – but the mountains sure do things to your psyche. I know for sure I have wanted to build a home in each of the mountain towns I have visited.
Breakfast was in the town, in the so called Mall. We went to Cafe Dalhousie, right in the beginning of the Mall, it had a nice bright ambience and lemon yellow wrought iron chairs outside. Quite inviting! The petunias hanging on the doors made it even more so! Nice, clean place, but no guarantee what the food would be like. So we try. I am a bit adventurous so order Paneer Parathas, Ajay goes the simpler, tried and tested way so orders bread and omlette. As expected, his omlettes were good, my paratha oily and made of refined flour instead of wheat, so basically terribly unappetizing! I get these funny looks from Ajay coz he had warned me and I end up with the wrong food orders pretty often! Well – I expect too much from piddly restaurants I guess! The mention of paneer parathas in the menu almost got me salivating coz they reminded me of the yummy ones I used to have at home! So anyway, I tried some vada sambhar after that, it was almost tolerable!
We had thought of looking around Dalhousie town, the churches and a particular graveyard in the hills we read about in the travel book. Somehow, we lost the enthusiasm to do that after seeing one church in the middle of the town square, it seemed pretty ordinary and the doors were tightly shut. I like to see the interiors of churches… I got the feeling here I would not be able to do that, so the town tour was dropped. Instead, we did the Khajjiar trip today. On the way was the Tibetan refugee village, one of the several small settlements in the country offered to the Tibetan people by Pandit Nehru.
There was this huge school building right at the entrance of the village. Bright orange asbestos rooftops almost shocked the eyes in the bright sunlight. A little kid was running off to school – round, podgy faced – just like the rest of the kids we saw there!
The village/settlement is quite sweet, clean and peaceful. There is interesting Tibetan music streaming from here and there, which Ambika tells me is going to be all over Mcleodganj, where we are headed tomorrow. She got going shooting some wildflowers and some Tibetans in a car passing by asked if we were enjoying ourselves. Good natured lot these.
Onwards to Khajjiar of which we have heard mixed reviews though mostly positive ones. The drive was a bit scary, through thin circuitous roads. We pass by a small detour to Kala top promising to visit in on our way back. This area is marked as a sanctuary though Jagdish says he has never seen or heard of any wild animals there.
Khajjiar was a complete disappointment. Well it is a pretty little meadow, with a floating island amidst a small pond in the center. It would have been beautiful if it was short of some two thousand people. Making a touristy mess as usual, buying balloons, taking pony rides and creating a general hell. When we asked the driver what there is to do here, he pointed out to some huge balloons in the distance and said – woh balloon hain na wahan! – right!
We had a quick bite, food was completely not special. There are tons of daisies all over the park which we dutifully captured. And then set off. When we reach Kala top, we realize that rain could be around the corner. In Dalhousie it seems to rain every evening without much warning. The guards at the Kala Top road entrance say that cars can only go in lots of four odd, at a time and we will have to wait more than an hour. Walking is an option which we ignore given the rain threat.
We move back to Gandhi Chowk, where we give the churches a pass, and move towards this place called Panchpulla ( supposed to have had five wooden bridges converge here) . The promised waterfalls are missing, the place is not even worth spending ten minutes at. We let Jagdish have tea and pakoras, crib about tourist books being all hype (“ever since shooting started in Kashmir they started creating destinations in Himachal”) and then head back.
Got some rest in the hotel, it started raining, and we were wondering between wanting to eat in the town or stay put in the hotel. There was lots of thunder and lightening, made funny noises on the tin roof. Finally we went to this place called Kwality which was a pleasant surprise. Air conditioned, full of little Sardarjis and lots of butter chicken smell in the air. We resisted the temptation and had mutter paneer and chana masala. One kid had butter chicken and then almost finshed off an eight inch pizza. Whew, gave us quite a complex. Rain had cleansed the atmosphere, and we sauntered down hill to the hotel.
