Thursday, November 11, 2010

Clouds, Mountains and Waterfalls - A Trip to Sikkim

That we were not going to stay back in Kolkata during the festive season (the Durgapuja holidays in October) was decided in August. Unfortunately, almost every other resident of Kolkata apparently made the same decision, and we couldn't find anything better than a wait-listed ticket on the train. The initial plan was to visit Arunachal Pradesh (on the far north-eastern border of India) - places like Tawang, Bhalukpong. Infact, I purchased the train tickets with Arunachal in mind - departing from Kolkata on Kanchanjungha express on 15th October, and coming back on the same train from Guwahati on 22nd.

But that didn't happen. No where in Arunachal we could manage to find accommodations, and had to scupper the plan. I thought of Bhutan, but that seemed to be too costly. And then I started thinking about Sikkim, especially North Sikkim, where I wanted to go since I saw some photos of the Gurudongmar Lake. So the final plan was to visit Gurudongmar via Gangtok, and then the Yumthang Valley and then Pelling (in West Sikkim) on our way back. I started searching for travel operators in that area - mainly for North Sikkim - because you cannot drive up there in normal cars, and managed to find one operator, Tibet Tours & Travels, who run their own chain for Fortuna Hotels at Lachen and Lachung. They have a 2night/3days tour of North Sikkim, covering Gurudongmar, Yumthang, Katao and Zero Point, starting from Gangtok and coming back to Gangtok at the end. You just have to reach Gangtok and they will (or are supposed to) take care of the rest. Damayanti, a friend of mine, was planning the same trip too, and we thought of sharing the vehicle cost. We started sending all the necessary documents (required for the permit to enter North Sikkim), and the holidays came up - our train tickets still on the waiting list.

I had a booking on Jaidada (the AC Volvo service to Siliguri), but took a chance on the Indian Railways Tatkal booking - and luckily was able to get confirmed berths on Kanchankanya express on 15th October - leaving Kolkata at night, and reaching New Jalpaiguri in the morning next day.

15th was the Ashtami. For the past three days, the electronic media had been screaming about the unimaginable festive crowd - millions out on the street - causing gridlocks for vehicles. There were news about people not being able to catch flights or trains because of huge traffic congestion on the streets of Kolkata. A bit scared and tensed, we started off from out place at around five in the evening, although the scheduled departure time (for the train) was half-eight. Did someone say "huge traffic congestion"? Well, normally it takes an hour to reach the station from my place, and on that day, we made it in 35 minutes. And found a fully crowded waiting lounge - because it seems all the other travellers were as careful as me. So we sat there - trying to kill the remaining three hours somehow - in that crowded waiting lounge, with two unstoppable kids, who seem to have roller-skates fitted on their feet...Why isn't there a Noble Prize for being patient?

The first living thing we met on the train was a rat - even before any other co-passenger. As soon as I dumped my rucksack on the side-berth, it ran out from beneath the seat, dodged between our feet and soon vanished. I wasn't that suprised - because only a few days back my parents went to the Valley of Flowers, and had an encounter with a similar species on the Hemkund express. But that one was probably a bit lazy one as my mother smashed it with her sandal (my dad actually took a snap of it, and keeps it as a part of his screensaver). The bottomline was - I had to change my plan of storing the rucksack beneath the seats, and with the risk of breaking my neck, I had to lift them up on the upper bunk.

There's no dining car on Kanchanjungha express, and we had our dinner with the homemade "puri and sabzi" and fell asleep. The train reached New Jalpaiguri on 16th morning, delayed by around half-an-hour.

(to be continued...)




Friday, June 11, 2010

An appeal for Bhopal

I am sure all of you know about the injustice in Bhopal. The punishment for killing 20,000+ people in the world's worst industrial disaster has been reduced to the equivalent of a road accident. Seven persons, who knowingly approved cost-cutting measures compromising the safety and disaster mitigation in the plant, have been let off on bail.

India lives cannot and should not be seen as cheap. Please fax the Prime Minister directly to let him know what you think. Click here: http://action.bhopal.net/fax.php

People around the world are angry. Angry at the Indian Government for betraying its people; angry that the world's largest democracy has succumbed to the power of the corporation.

LET THIS ANGER AND OUTRAGE NOT GO TO WASTE.

Take action for justice in Bhopal, and to reclaim our democracy. Send a fax to the PM and let him know what you feel.

http://action.bhopal.net/fax.php

Monday, June 07, 2010

A Walk In The Clouds

The British used to call Cherrapunjee "the Scotland of the East" - and only a visit would justify the reason. Most tourists tend to visit Shillong (the capital of Meghalaya) and make a day-trip to Cherrapunjee to see the landscape and few waterfalls. But that is not how you could get the complete taste of this mesmerizing place. You need to stay there - at least for a couple of days, if not more. You need to venture around on the narrow winding routes over the hills. You need to lose yourself inside the clouds. You need to walk in the rain and look at the silver drops of water hanging on the fern leaves just after a shower. Only then you would be able to "see" Cherrapunjee - otherwise it would remain as just another trip to some remote place, nothing more than that.

3rd June, 2010

Waking up in the middle of the night was a pain as always. But to catch the flight at 6.10AM, we had to reach the airport by 5.00AM, and for that we had to start from home at 4.00AM. The flight was uneventful and we reached Guwahati at around half-past eight in the morning. We took a taxi to Shillong. Usually it takes about three and half hours for the 120km distance, but some ongoing roadwork before Jorabat (at Assam-Meghalaya border) created a huge traffic snarl and it was raining as well. The road beyond Jorabat (Shillong Road, NH-40) was beautiful - winding between the smooth green hills of Meghalaya. We stopped at Bara Pani (a reservoir) just before Shillong - there isn't much water though, but still it's worth a stop. We reached Shillong at around 1PM and took another taxi towards Cherrapunjee.

This stretch of the Shillong Road was spellbinding - and I can only compare it with the Highlands (of Scotland) - waves of green vacant land on both sides, hills, free-flowing water creating picturesque waterfalls alongside the road. We crossed a small bridge (named after a king of Cherrapunjee) and we were in front of the Dympep Valley - a lush green gorge lying for miles after miles on the left side of the road, with chunks of white clouds hanging down in the valley, sometimes climbing up the hills...Beyond this valley and the green canyon lies Cherrapunjee (Sohra) Town.

We were going to the Cherrapunjee Holiday Resort at Laitkeynsiew village - another 15 km beyond the Sohra town, almost in the middle of nowhere. This stretch of the road, though narrow and winding between steep hills and valley, was stunning, as if we became a part of an immense picture. And it was almost no-man's land - you won't see any people till you reach the resort. And the resort? A picturesque lodge surrounded by the clouds on the top of the last hills of India beyond which you can clearly see the flooded plains of Sylhet (Bangladesh). It rained just a while ago, and little droplets of water were falling off the lush green fern leaves on the side of the road, few bottle-brushes were blooming inside a small cemetery, and water was flowing by the side of the village road like a tiny river...

4th June, 2010

I woke up at the sound of the alarm at 5AM in the morning hoping to see the sun coming out of the clouds. Unfortunately, it was too cloudy. At other places (say Lolegaon or Rishap) this would have been annoying - but not here. We've come here to lose ourselves in the clouds, and discover the romancing rain. It started to rain soon - first drizzles, then slowly heavier, and then like a white curtain all around us. We put on our raincoats and went out to the village below the resort - on a narrow road winding through the village with only a handful people in and out of the small houses. Water flowed over the road, Rik and Riti started splashing over the water and Rik named the flow "Chhota Pani" (or Small River, an opposite of Bara Pani). After a while we came back inside the resort with our so-called "weatherproof" walking shoes completely soaked...

The owner of the resort, Mr. Denis P. Rayen (a Tamilian who married a local lady and settled here, and helped the local economy) said that the rain will stop at around noon, and we decided that we'd trek to the nearest Living Root Bridge (approximately two and half kilometres and takes 4 hours) after lunch. We started at 1PM, and soon after crossing the tiny villages, the path turned towards the forest and downwards along the hill (technically, a mountain - nearly 1000m above the MSL). The path was actually a set of steep, narrow and non-uniform lichen-covered stone stairs with a dense forest on both sides laid out by the local people. And the recent rains made them even more slippery. My shoes started slipping soon and I wasn't able to step fully on the stairs as they were quite narrow. And we soon discovered that whatever Woodlands say, those "walking boots" were not all-terrain at all. I slipped few times, and was having trouble going down those steep steps because of my torn knee ligaments. And possibly, my confidence level wasn't as high as it used to be because of the recent remarks made by the doctor treating my knee. I fell over a couple of times - extremely lucky to escape fatality. It was drizzling when we started - so we had our raincoats on, but they were becoming more and more uncomfortable. We took the raincoats off and I was amazed to find that my shirt was completely soaked with sweat as if it was just washed in water. All the raincoats were packed inside my rucksack, and we started to walk. But it became impossible to step properly on the slippery stones with those shoes on - and so the shoes came off too, increasing the weight of my rucksack. Walking was easier with just the socks on, but the feet started hurting as we were moving on a very uneven surface. Rik though, didn't face any problem what-so-ever - may be because of his less weight, or may be because of his flexible shoes, and Riti was so tired that she fell asleep on our guide's shoulder. And watching him walk down that path with Riti on his shoulders was scary. We lost count of the number of steps and kept on going down and down - our legs tiring, and there was less and less light because of the dense forest and the clouds...Ultimately, after almost two and half thousand steps (yes, that's right - almost equivalent to climbing down the Empire State Building, could be even more as the steps were steeper) we reached the "Living Root Bridge".

It was fascinating - the bridge. The little stream below the bridge was even more so. We sat on a set of stones and watched that mesmerizing scene for a while, and then started climbing up the Empire State Building again...I don't know how I managed it, but I could feel the lack of strength and balance on my knee - my 85 kilos, plus the heavy rucksack, cloud, rain, lichen-covered steep steps, bare feet - all combined to create a fatal combination. But it was worth it. The experience was unforgettable - raw nature at its best - the scenery, the weather, the surroundings - it was something to remember for ever. It was Lothlórien - almost, and we were the hobbits eagerly waiting to get a glimpse of Lady Galadriel...

After-effect: After two days, even now, my legs are as heavy as lead. And I'm suffering from stairs-phobia. I'm still climbing stairs in an awkward way - but that's never going to stop me from going there again. May be some time not so far...

5th June, 2010

Our condition became evident as soon as we got up in the morning. Both of us had legs as heavy as lead, and they simply refused to go for another walk in the morning. This was our last day at the resort and we booked a taxi which would take us for a sight-seeing around Cherrapunjee and then drop us at our hotel in Shillong. Heavy rain had started by then and we were afraid that we might miss most of the views. But again the rain slowed down at around 10AM and we started on our journey back to Shillong.

I should write few lines about the resort at this point. It's a family-owned resort, run by Mr. Denis, his wife and their daughter. Few girls from the nearby villages work here as cooks and cleaners. Young men work as guides. The guide, who took us to the Living Root Bridge, studies in the 10th Std. and works as a guide during his free time. The resort literally helps the nearby villages economically, as this is the only place where tourists can stay beyond Cherrapunjee town. Some village youths take part in a cultural programme at the resort during the evenings - singing Khasi (local dialect) songs, sometimes famous English and Hindi songs too - which helps them earn a little extra. Mr. Denis has been working with the Government of Meghalaya to promote tourism at Cherrapunjee - before that, most people used to come on a day-trip, and that too just to the town. The thing that we liked most was a personal touch - either Mr. Denis or his daughter would look after the guests personally, talk to them during lunch/dinner time, have a leisurely chats at other times, bid farewell to each individual guest - something that we don't see anymore in the corporate chain hotels. The cost of food may have been a bit on the higher side - but I wouldn't expect anything different at such a place "in the middle of no-where."

The taxi took us to several view points around Cherrapunjee - and we had mesmerizing views of the hills, the greenery, the flowers, the rain, the majestic waterfalls, the flooded plains of Sylhet and our all-around partner - the cloud. But even with the cloud, we didn't miss a single thing. Wherever we went, the rain and cloud soon cleared - just to unravel the beauty for us and us only - and then covered everything again when we left. The Daithlen Falls was the only thing we couldn't go to - as the road was closed for vehicles. And at the Nohkalikai Falls (the highest in India, 4th highest in the world), we really thought that we won't be able to see anything and will have to leave with only the sound of the falls. But as we were coming out, the lady at the counter called us back - we rushed to the view point - and saw the cloud has started to lift. Soon it was clear again - and we could see the majestic Nohkalikai jumping a thousand feet from the top of the cliff...

After Nohkalikai, we started our journey back to Shillong. The cloud didn't allow us to get another glimpse of the Dympep valley. But the tiny waterfalls on the side were even more beautiful after two days of rain. Just before entering Shillong, we took a small diversion to the Elephant Falls, one of the famous tourist attractions near Shillong. And then we went straight to the Pinewood Hotel. The hotel looked majestic, built by the British during the Raj, but a severe lack of maintenance is turning it into a mess - a little care would have turned it into a paradise.

6th June, 2010

Nothing much to write about the day. We checked out of the hotel in the morning and went to the Shillong Peak - a famous tourist attraction, but after what we had seen at Cherrapunjee, this looked pretty ordinary. The twin falls - Beadon and Bishop - didn't impress as well. We would have visited the Don Bosco Museum if we had time - but that particular thing was short - and we had to rush to Guwahati airport (another four hour drive from Shillong) to catch our flight. Finally, we reached home at around 11PM in the night - tired, but satisfied. Cherrapunjee didn't hide herself and showed us the raw beauty of nature...