The many moods of Ladakh (part 3)
Continuing from Part 2
Leh to Pangong Tso
In every direction from Leh one encounters a different kind of terrain. To the west is the rocky landscape of Lamayuru. In the north is the cold desert of the Nubra valley. Our next two trips would both be in a south-easterly direction, onto the Changthang plateau. This is the northern extension of the Tibetan plateau, and is home to many high-altitude mountain lakes, wildlife, and Changpa nomads with their livestock.
Pangong-Tso has captured the Indian public’s imagination ever since the movie “3 Idiots” was filmed there. We had heard that it had acquired the trappings of a typical tourist spot thereafter. So it was with a mixture of apprehension and anticipation that we set out.
The road out of Leh is lined with willow trees whose leaves were just turning yellow. Everywhere you look in Leh, you see willow and poplar (planted as a wind break). The older houses are built with sun-dried mud bricks, with flat roofs on which firewood is stacked for the approaching winter. Doors and windows have carved wooden frames, characteristic of Ladakhi architecture.
We crossed the Shey palace perched on a hill, and the village of Thikshey. The Indus flowed beside the road until we reached Karu, where we took the turn-off towards Chang La. The road up to Chang La was paved only up to a point. The last 6 kilometres to the top were a bumpy ride over hard rock and gravel. Likewise, on the other side.
As we descended to Tsoltak, all of us desperately wanted a cup of tea. We saw a big placard announcing “Black tea” and “Hot water” propped up on a table outside a military establishment. This was clearly for the many military convoys that frequent this route, but when we enquired about a chai shop, we were graciously offered tea and any food or medical supplies that we might need. On these lonely routes, sometimes all you can see are army camps and vehicles, and it is reassuring to know that there is someone you can call on for help.
We stopped at Durbuk for a quick lunch of noodles before moving on. (The other possible lunch stop is at Tangtse, but it has fewer restaurants.)
Beyond this, the terrain began to change. There were wide stretches of meadow, criss-crossed with streams, where ponies grazed. We saw shepherds with their goats and sheep on the mountainside. Beside the road was a wide river bed that had long dried up, leaving white sand at the bottom.
We were stopped short by a sign that said “First view of world famous Pangong Lake”. We scrambled out of the car with our cameras to see an oblong of deep blue amidst many shades of brown. That glimpse acted like a tonic after the long drive, and we remained excited as we drove the remaining 4 km to the lake.
Pangong lake is aligned west-to-east over 140 km, with the western end in India, and the bulk of it in China. The road reaches the western tip and divides in two — one goes north towards Lukung village, the other goes along the southern shore towards Spangmik, where most of the tourists camps are located. These are mostly tented accommodation that wind up by the middle of September when the season closes because of cold weather. We had opted to stay at Merak village, which is another 20 km down the shoreline.
Now, we had planned our trip at the end of the season because we wanted to avoid a crowd of tourists. The beauty of Ladakh is, to a great extent, its vast, empty landscapes and the feeling of peace that it engenders. This would have been completely ruined if the place was overrun with people.
Even without people milling around, Spangmik was a desecration. Every available piece of land along the lake had some kind of camp or hotel built on it. An array of yellow scooters (like the one in the movie) was lined up along the lakeside, waiting for tourists to come and pose with them.
We fled.
But as soon as we turned eastward towards Merak, we forgot everything but the lake. At different angles, the water seemed a different shade of blue — azure and cobalt and even purple where there were rocks below. There were birds standing along the shore, bobbing in the water and flying across the deep blue sky. The mountains surrounding it boasted their own range of colours — crystalline blue-white to mauve to soft brown. The water was so clear that we could see the pebbles underneath.
The drive itself was special because there was no ‘road’ in the proper sense — it was a dirt track on the sand that local villagers used. In some places, the lake water overflowed onto the track. We crossed Man village, about 11 km from Spangmik, and continued on to reach Merak just as the sun was setting.
Merak is a small collection of mud-brick houses (several of them home-stays) and a few resorts. We were staying at Pangong Tso Eco resorts, which has only four permanent units and a few tents that had been taken down. It is built some distance from the lake (as per regulations) but dusk had already fallen by then so the view wasn’t a problem. What was uppermost in our minds then was the cold!
Being the only guests at the resort, we chose to spend the evening in the dining room adjoining the kitchen. It was warm and cosy, and the caretaker’s family served us hot coffee and snacks. Their son had a collection of old Hindi film songs on his phone that he streamed over Bluetooth to a small speaker. Dinner was a simple, hot, vegetarian meal, freshly prepared in their kitchen. On our way back to our rooms, we stopped to see the night sky studded with stars whose existence we have forgotten in the city.
On our drive back to Leh the next morning, we had more surprises in store. This high altitude region is home to the Himalayan marmot — a rodent-like creature that burrows in the soil. One crossed the road in front of us and clambered up the hillside, where it obligingly held a pose while we took a photograph.
As a grand finale, Chang La presented itself dressed in white with fresh snow on the mountainsides. Luckily, there was none on the road surface itself, so the crossing wasn’t fraught with anxiety as Khardung La had been.
Continued in Part 4
Credit for photos, and all that driving: Somendu Dutta
