Himalayan Challenge for Whizz-Kidz

Indian Himalayas, October 28^th to November 10^th 2006

Early morning from the bedroom window…

Log 3 October 31^st McLeod Ganj sits astride a pine-covered ridge, and our hotel clung almost desperately to one side of it…so, despite the fact that the early morning view from the bedroom window was obstructed to some degree by trees, the overall feeling was one of being suspended over an abyss. And it was in this kind of animation that I had lain in bed before sunrise, listening to the unfamiliar sounds of the small town waking to another day. It didn’t surprise me then to find that, by breakfast time, a disabled beggar had already hunkered down on what would probably be his small patch for the day – right next to a poster of Sonia Ghandi. Whether this was meaningful to him in some way I shall never know, but it further pinpointed for me the vast differences between our two lives… …and how a casual throw of the universal dice had awarded me undeserved wealth and ability, whilst apportioning so much suffering and indignity to my unwitting companion on the road below… And, yet, I had to wonder at what he could undoubtedly teach me…

…and again

With breakfast safely tucked away, our bags packed and ready to go, we spent an hour or two exploring…just wandering, watching and absorbing…and, in my case, some would say shopping…though for no more than a good armful, I have to say. Ok then! So we piled on to our bus, bags and all, around 11.30am and travelled to Bir, in the foothills of the Himalayas…and to our expedition leader’s homely guesthouse. Wonderfully simple and unfussy, this was the Dream and Adventure Centre. Here, the landscape was more open and yet the weather warm enough to sit outside in the garden at the long table…under a paragliding sheet…and eat lunch.

A beggar settles for the day…

Leaving McLeod Ganj…

Some of the team in the garden at Bir

The garden dining table

From the garden…

Bedroom at the Dream and Adventure Centre, Bir

Dining room for veggies

Dining room for non-veggies

Simple bedroom furnishings

Bir is possibly one of the last outposts of civilisation, lying as it does on the very edge of the vast and desolate mountain region of the Himalayas. As such, it has a refreshingly primitive air about it…and an engaging simplicity that reaffirmed for me just how very much more comes from less… We set off after lunch to explore this picturesque Tibetan colony...firstly, and with great purpose, up to one of the monasteries to witness a special week-long ceremony. This was a Puja – or cleansing ceremony. If memory serves me correctly, the monks had just been released from ‘solitary’. Seated around the walls, and in rows in the centre of a huge square room, they variously chanted, rang bells, blew the long horns and banged the Taiko drum. It was a mesmerising scene that we watched almost secretly as we clung, in eavesdrop-mode, to the mesh grilles at the windows…The calming influence of the ritual chanting periodically grew to a heart-stopping crescendo with the thundering of the Taiko drum. A rich, heavy scene assailing the senses lay before us…of incense, the flames of a thousand candles, the bright, almost gaudy colours of the murals and thangkas and the mountain of offerings to the lama. Our gentle, almost aimless stroll back was in complete contrast…close to sunset and in that timeless space between day and night…It was peaceful…the air still and warm, and we could wander at will with our thoughts…that is until we reached the crossroads…apparently the hub of the tiny village. This was the local forum and Himalayan shopping mall in one. One phone call later, and armed with some packets of sweets, a bag of crisps and a few bottles of Kingfisher beer we strode smartly down the road and back to our base as the sun fell to the horizon.

Front of monastery at Bir

Detail

Front doors

Just chatting…

A shrine by the roadside, en route to the monastery

Shops at the crossroads, Bir

…and the dry cleaner’s

Scaffolding of bamboo, cement bags and prayer flags…A few of my favourite things…

The beer was good…and would almost certainly be my drink of choice here…To have more than a passing acquaintance with Indian wine could only be classed as folly. And with the crisps as well, we could almost have been in the pub…But perish the thought…Here we were, instead, in a beautiful garden in the foothills of the Himalayas in the gathering dusk…just chilling, idly chattering and feeling the mounting excitement and trepidation of what was to come. Dinner was English that night…and we ate indoors…segregated into veggies and non-veggies…in separate rooms…We meat-eaters sat on the floor to eat, whilst the others sat on chairs… And I’m still working on this one. With the arrival of darkness we lit a bonfire in the garden…and, after a short chat from our expedition leader about the coming days, lounged around it in general disarray…Fragments of conversation flew hither and thither, intermingling with the crackling of the fire…then gradually died away towards sleep and just a few glowing embers…

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