Spiti — Part 2
Self discovery in an undiscovered land
The Bus to Shimla
I decided to cancel my ticket to Delhi and leave a night early for Shimla. There was too much confusion regarding the roads being open on the Manali route. The Manali ISBT surprisingly had no clue (really?) and the Keylong bus stop categorically told me the road was closed. Both were lying! So we decided not to take a chance and meet at Shimla and then head over to Reckong Peo from where we would hitch hike our way to the monastery, halting at various places along the way. The 2 day extension had long been forgotten and I had prepared myself for being on the road up to a week.
I took a taxi for the lack of late night reliable transportation to Dharamsala ISBT and boarded my bus at 9:30PM. It had been only 10 minutes when I received a message from Abhinav.
Disgusting Shimla
Maybe I shouldn’t say that based on my two hour stay at a place — but I will. Shimla was disgusting. There was sludge all around and the congestion was suffocating. I had spent the last night thinking about whether I should just head back to Delhi like I was supposed to or actually head to Peo. I had never really made unplanned trips — forget making one on my own. I have to admit I was nervous about going to an unknown land with absolutely zero planning. But I had been too excited and worked up about seeing the monastery to give up now and so I decided to proceed.
After misinformation from the bus stop officials and running around Shimla, I finally landed at the ISBT and took a private bus for Peo in the morning. The bus was cramped, the roads terrible and the journey boring but I made it to Peo in 12 hours. Largely I was tense about where I will be spending the night.
Peo
As soon as I touched the Kinnaur valley, rains welcomed us and I knew we were headed to a different kind of India. The beauty on the way is spellbinding especially when you are about to touch Peo and see snow clad mountains.
At Peo the bus conductor probably having anticipated my uneasiness throughout the trip asked me if I needed a room and pointed to a hotel right next to the bus stop. I just needed to spend the night and got a dingy room. I’m sure I overpaid but I was too tired to negotiate. Just before we parted, the conductor told me to ask the hotel staff to get me a ticket to Tabo in the morning. I didn’t pay much heed to that. The officials at the bus stop had asked me to come at 6 in the morning and I expected to get a ticket easily. So I changed, showered and headed for dinner as I’d not eaten for close to 36 hours now.
The Bus to Kaza
Every morning at 7 from Reckong Peo leaves a bus to Kaza — the most major town of Spiti. What I did not know is that passengers from Shimla that left the last evening get priority for tickets. I had arrived a night before on a private bus and to my absolute horror I did not get one. I was not prepared to stand for 12 hours in a congested bus on what I had heard was one of the worst and most dangerous roads in the world. The bus was jam packed with passengers from two buses from Shimla as well as the locals who just had to reach their destinations. During my struggles at the ticket counter I was joined by two equally disappointed young men. So we quickly got down to business wondering what we were going to do. What we definitely could not do was spend another night at Peo. Ankush was quick to point out that he had a local friend and might be able to arrange a taxi but it would be expensive, costing each of us up to fifteen hundred each. FIFTEEN HUNDRED! Very reluctantly I agreed but I had no other option. I am so glad I did that. We stopped everywhere we wanted to and it was way more comfortable. More importantly the co-passengers turned out to be really nice people. Neither had I chosen them nor had they chosen me but it worked out better than I could ever hope for. This was an important life lesson for me.
Mann ka ho to accha, na ho to aur bhi accha
If what you desire turns out to be true — great! If it doesn’t then even better
But this wasn’t the first time that I had felt so on this trip but we’ll come back to that later. Before we proceed, here is a beautiful snow clad mountain right behind the Peo bus stand.
Spillo and the way to Spiti
As we left Peo, we encountered the forces of nature and a sneak peek into the road ahead. There was this crazy corner where only one vehicle could pass at a time and absolutely no way to know if someone was coming towards you. To add to that these hill drivers drive fast somehow not caring about the consequences. I realised this was just normal for them. That’s how driving and travelling had been for them all their life. Most of them had never really left the valley. Death was always a couple of meters to your left or right.
Our first halt was at Spillo where we had huge ass aloo parathas with a brick of butter for just ₹25. Before you realise it you’ve moved out of the lush green Kinnaur valley into the brinks of Spiti. That’s when you realise what a cold dessert really is. It’s barren as anything with not a pinch of grass anywhere and just solid rocks and stones everywhere. Your lips dry up even though there’s the Sutlej river constantly flowing by your side. It makes you wonder how people even conceived of settling here a millennia back and actually survived!
Particularly amusing is the fact that as you get closer to Spiti, the road starts vanishing and you get to see boards saying you’re travelling on the world’s most treacherous road.
There’s a lot of drilling work that you see going along the road. This is an attempt to broaden the road. They are drilling hard mountains formed over a period of millions of years and the side effects are everywhere to be seen. Not only have the landslides increased drastically as our mountains get hollow, there’s also a lot of dust floating around for you to happily choke with. The gravel makes it’s way into the river. All along the way I was wishing they just stop so that it doesn’t get easier for people to come here. I’m afraid Spiti will be the new McLeod for people from Delhi and chandigarh to flock to on weekends. I had already spotted a couple of SUVs from Gurgaon. Bad signs I tell you.
Nako Lake
The driver suggested that we halt for lunch at Nako and have a look at the beautiful Nako lake. As you approach Nako, you see the Khab sangam of two mighty rivers that split the valley — Sutlej and Spiti. It is spectacular to say the least. The entry point is beautiful with huge mountains on both sides, a deep horizon ahead of you and gushing water bending the road to your left by sheer force as the cold desert of Spiti lies across the nearby bridge. You can also glimpse huge mountains clad in visible pure white snow like Reo Purgil.
Nako is as close to the Chinese border as you can get in terms of civilization — a mere 10Km. Nako does not have a lake. More like nakko lake for my Hyderabadi friends. Nako has a small pond that has somehow been woven into the myth of a beautiful grand lake that brings in tourists to an otherwise quiet little village. Nice trick. But let’s not waste too much time on these silly little details. The pictures in Spiti make every halt and stop memorable and therefore I’ll just leave you with spell binding scenery since my dismal skill at writing will never do justice to this land.
After a brief lunch at Nako (which was surprisingly commercial in it’s approach) comprising of some delicious momos and Pepsi, we headed out on our journey. What we also spotted was the last army camp and the Chinese border. Across the camp everything was China. The driver was also quick to point out that only fairly recently they had intruded before leaving peacefully. The Chinese (and I hope the Indians too) keep testing the enemy’s limit.
Tabo
Our next destination was Tabo — a millennium old village famous for having the world’s second oldest monastery and hundreds of years old caves that were used by monks for meditation. The beautiful art work still survives on the walls of these caves which has given Tabo the title of “Ajanta of the Himalayas”. Tabo had been on my list of places to stay at. In fact I had planned to spend a night at the monastery. I knew that won’t be possible because of the Taxi unless I get down but that was too much uncertainty for the day. The plan of hitchhiking had gone out of the window with Abhinav’s sudden exit and I had also realised along the way that had we hitch hiked, this would have extended to 2 or 3 week trip just in Spiti. The roads are mostly deserted with occasional vehicles speeding by. They are mostly taxis and usually refuse to board because they have been hired by a Dilliwala who refuses to let anyone on for a free ride. I also knew that it would be impossible to visit the caves. I would certainly not be able to meditate in them. Some other time I said to myself.
Tabo is literally situated in the middle of high, plain mountains which surround you from all the sides. It’s like being in a giant stadium. The terrain is raw — absolutely barren but with a tree sprouting up here and there and the juxtaposition is one that you only get to see in beautifully shot Bollywood songs.
We reached the old monastery — the original one. They have created a new monastery to host guests and for routine purposes. It’s amazing that a structure established in 996A.D. still stands here — in the middle of nowhere, in the harshest and remotest of areas. What stories does it hold? Few men would really knows I guess.
We went inside to find centuries old wall paintings and idols still preserved. It’s arcane. The area is dimly lit with lamps and the fragrance of a thousand year old history fills the room with uneasiness.
The weather at Tabo was gloomy. Rains started pouring down just as we were heading towards a small cafe for a quick chai. The weather had got very cold and we had started to realise what we were up for. All those woolen clothes and the leather jacket I had brought along for Dharamshala and which had turned out to be useless because the temperature had constantly been 30ºC+ suddenly found full usage and I thanked my stars. We quickly stepped into the chai shop and got down to conversing about Vipassana as I shared my limited experience on Buddhism and it’s philosophy.
After spending about an hour I said adieu to Tabo, promising to visit back one day to meditate and star gaze.
Towards Kaza
Now the only place left to visit was Kaza and we had to make it there in time. Given the weather, we were a little skeptical if we would make it before nightfall. Driving on those roads during daytime was risky enough to us common citizens. Driving in the dark was a clear no-no even for our experienced native driver. But the landscape only keeps getting better as you head upwards. And so did the weather. Honestly the weather in this region changes faster than you can say “weather”. As we drove through those barren, empty roads we kept encountering dark, gloomy and rainy mountains as well as bright, sun laden valleys.
The road here is terrible, especially because it kept raining. Greenery was back again although in little patches but that’s how Spiti is — an amalgam, a masterpiece in blue, green and brown.
We were forced to halt for close to fifteen minutes near the river bed thanks to ongoing drilling. This is a common feature around here — since the traffic is so sparse, the drilling crew goes on with their work — only stopping when enough traffic has accumulated for them to step aside. Looking at the bright sunshine and the quick progress we had made since Tabo, we weren’t afraid anymore.
As the labour stepped aside we headed to Kaza. The terrain kept changing. At one moment we would glimpse bright sunny green mountains and the very next there would be clouds and glimpses of snowy peaks playing hide and seek with us as we zig zagged past them.
The Spot
I can’t really pinpoint the location as our networks were already gone and GPS wasn’t that reliable either but we came across a spot that blew everyone away. Almost in a single voice we commanded the driver to stop the vehicle and got outside. The wind is blowing really hard and the cold numbing. The dryness and dust was on our lips to taste and small tornadoes swept past us in haste. This is when I knew that this land was truly special and what a great decision I had made by not only taking this trip but also hiring the taxi. The bus would have never stopped here for anyone.
The land was barren — very rocky with stones and gravel everyone. One has to be very careful with their grip and I highly, highly recommend sports/trekking shoes. I unfortunately was wearing shoes with no grip at all and that turned out to be a major pain throughout. Don’t make that mistake. Right across you could see a huge flatland spread across kilometers and home to constant dust storms. Right across that plane in the middle of nowhere one could spot heavily snow clad mountains looking down upon us. The sky up was one giant bluish grey ocean with clouds breezing across, exposing the sun from moment to moment.
We’re already 9 hours into the journey and I still haven’t introduced my wonderful co-passengers. So let me do that quickly. The two boys I met at the Peo bus stand were Ankush and Prateek. Ankush was a Himachali from Shimla on a road trip with his college mate Ravi. They were extremely easy going and nice people with no major plan except to chill. Ravi is a soft spoken Punjabi who currently is working at PNB near Amritsar. Prateek on the other hand belongs to Jamshedpur and had just finished his internship at Google in Gurgaon and headed to Spiti with his girlfriend Aarzoo who is from Rewari and had joined him from Ahmedabad. Both had met as probation officers of SBI in Gujarat and that’s where Aarzoo still continues while Prateek decided to got for an MBA. The Gujarat connection really helped as we found a common connect and quickly discovered common topics and also a mutual friend. These were really fun people to talk to. All of us developed a really nice bond. Seldom do you find a group of such nice, simple and honest people to travel along with and that too strangers by chance. The decision of hopping along with them had worked out quite well after all.
Mann ka ho to accha, na ho to aur bhi accha
Kaza
Alas we had arrived in Kaza. Everyone by then knew that I had to go 10 Km further to Key. Thanks to our frequent stoppages, I had missed the only bus that leaves for Key at 5PM but that was expected. Kaza on the other hand had been everything I had heard of. A busy, congested town in the middle of nowhere — hustling and bustling with tourists and traders. It was peak tourist season and the first thing we spotted upon entering the town was a Zostel — a popular tourist hostel. That was completely unexpected and all of us thought that if these guys had reached here then it was only a matter of time before enterprising Punjabis and the rest of India would follow. You can find everything here from internet cafes to splendid cookies, cakes and whatnot.
We headed to the hotel booked by Prateek and Aarzoo and upon getting down started to discuss what I was going to do further and what all of our subsequent plans were. All this while I had been trying to butter the driver into dropping me off all the way to the monastery. But taxi fares in these areas are ridiculous. Kaza to Key is 500 bucks. They cite the wear and tear that these vehicles bear as the primary reason but as I learnt later that with proper maintenance these guys run their SUVs for years even decades. Anyway to cut the story short he agreed to take me to Key for an additional 200 bucks which I reluctantly gave him. Unfortunately not everyone in the valley is untouched by tourism and we kept coming across people who wanted to take advantage of our money. But it’s nothing compared to what you face at other tourist spots and in any case they never try to deceive you. These are as good hosts as you’ll find anywhere in the world — people who would genuinely go out of their way to help you if you need it. The others decided to spend the night in Kaza and go visiting around with the same driver the very next day. They planned to come down to the monastery sometime during the day and I assured them I was going nowhere as my sole purpose of the trip was to spend time at the monastery. That would turn out to be a lie in the future but more on that later.
Suddenly the dream was nearing. I was actually going to that very monastery I’d only seen on the internet a few years back. All that had stopped me all these years was actually taking the journey.
He quickly started driving as it was getting dark fast and he had to return back. Ankush and Ravi decided to join me for kicks. And then we spotted it.
As we drove up, I felt an adrenaline rush. It was dreamy and very emotional. All the toil, hard work, nervousness and gut wrenching journey of the past 48 hours has cumulated into this. I had overcome the worst of weather, terrain and my fears to finally make it here — at 4200m of altitude.
They dropped me off at the entrance from where I had to walk up to the monastery doors. That’s one hell of an uphill walk and at 4200m your lungs truly scream out begging you to give up.
But alas I had reached and the dream had come true.
