First: let me note that this is one of those posts written on a computer more ancient than some of the monasteries I'm about to describe, so I apologize for any typos or whatever.
The only way to describe the last five days is by calling them epic. I know that word is terribly overused these days, but seriously, you be the judge:
Where we last left off, we had no idea if we would make it to Spiti at all: we didn't know if we had anyone to go with, and more importantly, we didn't know if the Rothang pass, which is the only road into the Himalayan Valleys, was open. The former problem was solved the old fashion way: with a note left at our hotel reception by two other bay area-travelers, one of whom we had met in Jaipur, Jodhpur, AND McLeod Ganj (India's really just a small town, apparently). They're some really nice folks, and we were relieved to hear that they wanted to come with us. So then there were four of us, which is enough to fill a jeep. But we couldn't get a straight answer from anyone in town about whether or not that jeep would be able to get us across or not. Yotam and I obviously don't have much time to spare and we were sick of Manali from the start, and Christian (one of our new friends) had a flight to consider as well.
So it came down to the morning of: we were to wake up at 5am, meet our jeep driver, drive three hours to the pass, and see if we could cross. If we could, we still had an 8 hour drive on mostly unpaved roads ahead of us, and it would mean crossing two rivers that rise steadily over the course of the day.
We made it to the pass at 8:00 am. There were about ten vehicles ahead of us in our direction, and an endless line of trucks stacked up in the other. The pass, at this time, was closed: blocked by a huge boulder and made trickier still by periodic landslides. So there we sat while like five government workers blew up the boulder with some dynamite and about a hundred other travelers and drivers crowded around to watch. Also, did I mention at this point we were at 3900 meters above sea level? On a very narrow, muddy, unpaved road? With no barricade? Please don't tell my mom.
Ten mind-numbing hours later (10!) it was our turn to cross the pass. The car in front of us slipped across the mud to the other side of the blockage. A huge boulder flew down the hill, and the workers gave us a signal to stop. But only for like one second and then before we knew it we were also sprinting across. We barely had time to realize that what we had done was somewhat stupid, and somewhat dangerous, but at that point we started to enter the mountain range and so we really didn't care.
The parts of the Himalayas we had seen before were covered with Alpine flora, a lush deep green. As we rose above the treeline, they took on a completely different character, and then another, and then another. The Himalayas look almost like the Grand Canyon at points, and then like the Swiss Alps, and then like a completely different planet. Fuzzy green mountains dotted with colorful wildflowers gave way to silver lakes with paisley-shaped grey islands. Red and black boulders met with glacial snowcapped behemoths. It's impossible to capture all of its character in one picture. Which is why all four of us nearly constantly snapped photos, each one as postcardy as the next (the mountains are very photogenic). And, since the ride is nearly all switchbacks, if you missed the perfect photo the first time, you had many, many more chances.
Night fell before we made it to Kaza (the capital city where we had planed to stay the night), so we stopped in one of the roadside towns (this one caleld Chatchru, population 120 though that seemed unlikely since there were only three large tents in sight). We slept in the restaurant-tent that we also ate dinner in, hosted by a Tibetan woman.
And this was only the BEGINNING of our journey! The next few days we visited a few monastaries all over 1,000 years old, some literally jutting out of the sides of mountains, and some of the highest cities with working electricity (though "working" is a loose term in Spiti). We had to catch our breath every ten minutes hiking to a nearby lake, where appropriately, the views were breathtaking.
It was hard to leave. Literally and figuratively, but on our fifth day we hopped back in the jeep and with a heavy dose of luck made it back through, bumping along the way we came.
Now we're in Delhi, which in the few hours we've been here has already been a pretty crazy adventure, but we'll write more on that later. Or when we're home, because we have the next few days JAM PACKED with travel: tonight we leave for Varanasi and arrive in the morning, stay for one night, leave for Agra to see the Taj Mahal on another overnight train, and then arrive back in Delhi with only two days before we board our 24 hour flight back to California. Phew, right?
Friday, July 16, 2010
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