This is a take of walking, music, desert, mountains: Of three girls, one fiddle and one puppy in the Himalayan moutains......
This tale begins on a seventeen hour bus ride to Rekong Peo, where one girl with a fiddle bonded with two other girls who were also heading for Spiti - a remote part of India that used to be part of Tibet. It is so close to Tibet that you need a permit to travel on the route and no phones apart from the governmental phones work there..... A himalayan desert. To get there one must take the local bus on the tibet-hindustan highway, famous for being one of the most terrifying bus routes in the world.
We broke the journey to Spiti in two by stopping the night in Nako, a beautiful little village where we walked up the mountain and I played to the most amazing view.....you feel so high( around 3600 meters), the sky feels so close.... and in the middle of desert suddenly is this village with trees and fields that are nearly eye level with the snow capped peaks across the valley.
Arriving in Kaza, the 'city'/regional headquarters we swiftly found out favourite dhaba and arranged a plan - a night in Ki monastary, a walk to Kibber - once thought to be the highest village in the world with a road- and then a four day homestay trek around the villages nearby. It was the next morning, just before setting off to Ki, that the three girls came accross a damp, muddy ball of fluff that seemed to be shivering and stuck to the pavement. It was impossible to just walk by, something compelled all three girls to stop and take action..... they took the puppy back to their guesthouse, washed it, fed it, discovered it was the sweeetest tibetan black fluffball, and then realised that they didn't want to put him back on the street.
An Indian guy in the guesthouse said that in a month, after trekking accross the Rotang pass to Ladakh, he could come back for the Kaja (named after the local pronounciation of the town in which he was found) and give him a home in assam. So it was settled.... Kaja would come wth us in the back of a pack and then be taken to live in dharamsala for another three weeks.
We stayed in the monstary guesthouse in Kibber, where the guys who ran it were so kind. They didnt mind Kaja not being toilet trained and made us one of the best thalis I've had in India.... and the monks in the monstary gave us a full tour of the gompas and 1000 year ol thanka paintings and made us chai in a kitchen that was 800 years old. It was black - everywhere, on the ceiling and floor....there was some tibetan prayers written on the wall: you could really feel how lived in it was. In the morning we joined the puja at 7.30 and got given chai again in a different bigger kitchen, watching the monks make breakfast in huge saucepans. Then we set of up the hill six kilometers to Kibber - and discovered that walking is a lot harder at higher alititudes. I gave a small 'concert' to the kids at school - everyone huddled into the one room with a stove that was warm- as I explained about the different types of music - folk and classical. We got tea and a few very very shy versions of traditional spitian songs from the kids. The kids loved Kaja aswell so that was a bonus because everywhere we went people reacted to the dog and asked us questions.
And so the next day we began our homestay trek... leaving our big bags in the guesthouse, we got a jeep to Losang and after a turn around the huge budda statue on the hill we began our walk to Comic where we would be spending the night. The first days walk was pretty uneventful although I felt really ill (altitude). We got to Comic just before dark and were greeted by the most hospitalble family..... lots of chai and this roasted/popped barley snack around a really warm stove. You really get a sense of how they live as you watch the family cook and stoke the fire. The toilets were dry composte toilets - very eco frendly and to get to our room we had to climb up a ladder onto the roof (under the sky with most amazing stars I've seen in yearrs) and into a room directly abover the kitchen and stove- so t was warm! The elder daughter was a nun and spoke good english and there was a cute little girl who took the whole night to not be super scared of the white injuns (foreigners).
Next day we set off to Demul. At this point I should mention that our map consisted of a line drawn between the names of villages written down on a piece of paper with no distances mentioned, just the altitude of places we would pass on our way.
By the late afternoon we found ourselves still walking along the side of a mountain on a road that was ruined by avalanches - so not even jeep worthy- fully expecting that around the next bend, in the next valley we would find out Demul. We'd set off early so why were we not there? Its true that with the dog and fossil finding (yes, really, fossils of amonites, it used to be a sea bed) and Ibix spotting we took on a leisurely pace but when it got to five we started to wonder. Earlier the road had split, usuing only intuition we'd taken the top route - was it the right way.?
We came across the first people we'd seen since Comic, a group of boys who didn't seem interested to help and couldn't tell us if there was a village anywhere near. At this point we started to get a little nervous and began planning how to keep warm, spotting 'sheltered' spots/ It was getting colder and windy, the desert is not hospitable at night, even in Comic we slept in clothes and two blankets: The idea of a sleeping bag liner, a fire and a dog to cuddle doesn't cut it when its freezing .
Then we turned a valley and spotted a road - to Kaza- and thus some possibility that it came from somewhere over the other side of the mountain that we'd been walking along. There were signs of life- power lines and maybe a stupa pionting its white tip from over the hill and then, Shanon spotted a heard of goats moving across the steep slope, up and over the top of the mountain. Salvation might be around the corner! If the goats were going home then they could lead the way to a goat shed at the very least..... Bearing in mind it would take us at least an hour to get to the top of the hill it was still far away and high and we were very very tired) and we only had a wee bit mor ethen an hour of light, this was a risk to carry on walking and not prepare shelter. In goats we put our trust and hope and they led the way. It was a scary when we got to the top of the hill and didn't see any sign of humans, so following the mantra, we followed the goat shit down the hill, turned another corner and DAH-DAH............suddenly the most joyous moment of the trip, simultanerously we all saw a group of the most welcoming white tibentan houses on the other side of the valley.... we couldn't stop laughing for about five minutes as we continued to follow the goat prints down the hill. The homestay in Demul wasn't as nice - but afte rthe thought of sleeping outside anything was welcome.... .as was the news that our walk had been 25 kilometers..... some information that would have been helpful to know when setting off on the trek. We simply weren't mentally preparred for valley after valley to not be the one of Demul.
The thrird day was mostly a steep steep steep downhill walk along a tretcherous cliff face and a long flat walk to Lalung. We stopped on the way at a house in the middle of nowhere, having been invited in for Chai by a granny covering herself from the sun with a broken black umbrella and two little kids. I gave her a concert that she seemed to really really enjoy and they in turn directed us the right way. Onc eagain we realised that our 'map' was not enough. If we hadn't been stopped by the granny we could of happily wandered on the path on the wrong side of the river to our destination.... lesson learnt. Lalung was lovely, as was the homestay...... although the family were all out so it was just the wife and her young daughter hosting us.
Next day we set of to Dhankar - our last destination from where we could ge tsome form of transport back to Kaza. Once again we found the trail spilit and it was only our intuition that guided us in the right direction.... It was a stunning walk. Some parts of spiti are just rock and then you come across terrain that is a bit like the moor- with gorse bushes and thin grass , and then the random bit of snow that hasn't melted. Knocking on the door of a guesthouse to get lunch we met three indian guys also heading to Kaza. They got us all a free ride in he back of a truck to Kaza..... bumpy but you get to see so much without a roof abover your head.In return we got them rooms at our guesthouse and introduced them to the infamous dhaba with
squashed samaosas. By this time we stank. We hadn't washed in four days or changed clothes.... our greatest wish was a hot shower. But lo, the power was out of Kaza - everything was running on generators that day (apparently Punjab buys up all the power and so other states have days where poweer just dissappeares) and so we had to wait untill after the crazy 10 hour bus ride back (along the most beauitufl scary ride of my life) to Rekong Peo and then to the beautiful village of Kalpa.
In Kalpa we parted as Sarah and Shannon headed to Dharamsala with Kaja. Despite the numous rude awakenings of puppy biting my face in the morning and the nuisance of waiting for him to pee outside, I really missed the fluffball and his compadres. Kaja really was our puppy for a week. The himlayan trekking puppy...... I think with puppy and fiddle we left a good mark on Spiti- the strangest trio but one of the loveliest.
There's some more adventures but time is running out online and I'm hungry so it'll wait. I've no doubt my journey to Mumbai will pick up a few tales too..... at present I dont want to think about leaving. That said, I'm ready for a hot shower where the water doesn't run out....
Joole (hello and goodbye and everything inbetween in spitian language)
This tale begins on a seventeen hour bus ride to Rekong Peo, where one girl with a fiddle bonded with two other girls who were also heading for Spiti - a remote part of India that used to be part of Tibet. It is so close to Tibet that you need a permit to travel on the route and no phones apart from the governmental phones work there..... A himalayan desert. To get there one must take the local bus on the tibet-hindustan highway, famous for being one of the most terrifying bus routes in the world.
We broke the journey to Spiti in two by stopping the night in Nako, a beautiful little village where we walked up the mountain and I played to the most amazing view.....you feel so high( around 3600 meters), the sky feels so close.... and in the middle of desert suddenly is this village with trees and fields that are nearly eye level with the snow capped peaks across the valley.
Arriving in Kaza, the 'city'/regional headquarters we swiftly found out favourite dhaba and arranged a plan - a night in Ki monastary, a walk to Kibber - once thought to be the highest village in the world with a road- and then a four day homestay trek around the villages nearby. It was the next morning, just before setting off to Ki, that the three girls came accross a damp, muddy ball of fluff that seemed to be shivering and stuck to the pavement. It was impossible to just walk by, something compelled all three girls to stop and take action..... they took the puppy back to their guesthouse, washed it, fed it, discovered it was the sweeetest tibetan black fluffball, and then realised that they didn't want to put him back on the street.
An Indian guy in the guesthouse said that in a month, after trekking accross the Rotang pass to Ladakh, he could come back for the Kaja (named after the local pronounciation of the town in which he was found) and give him a home in assam. So it was settled.... Kaja would come wth us in the back of a pack and then be taken to live in dharamsala for another three weeks.
We stayed in the monstary guesthouse in Kibber, where the guys who ran it were so kind. They didnt mind Kaja not being toilet trained and made us one of the best thalis I've had in India.... and the monks in the monstary gave us a full tour of the gompas and 1000 year ol thanka paintings and made us chai in a kitchen that was 800 years old. It was black - everywhere, on the ceiling and floor....there was some tibetan prayers written on the wall: you could really feel how lived in it was. In the morning we joined the puja at 7.30 and got given chai again in a different bigger kitchen, watching the monks make breakfast in huge saucepans. Then we set of up the hill six kilometers to Kibber - and discovered that walking is a lot harder at higher alititudes. I gave a small 'concert' to the kids at school - everyone huddled into the one room with a stove that was warm- as I explained about the different types of music - folk and classical. We got tea and a few very very shy versions of traditional spitian songs from the kids. The kids loved Kaja aswell so that was a bonus because everywhere we went people reacted to the dog and asked us questions.
And so the next day we began our homestay trek... leaving our big bags in the guesthouse, we got a jeep to Losang and after a turn around the huge budda statue on the hill we began our walk to Comic where we would be spending the night. The first days walk was pretty uneventful although I felt really ill (altitude). We got to Comic just before dark and were greeted by the most hospitalble family..... lots of chai and this roasted/popped barley snack around a really warm stove. You really get a sense of how they live as you watch the family cook and stoke the fire. The toilets were dry composte toilets - very eco frendly and to get to our room we had to climb up a ladder onto the roof (under the sky with most amazing stars I've seen in yearrs) and into a room directly abover the kitchen and stove- so t was warm! The elder daughter was a nun and spoke good english and there was a cute little girl who took the whole night to not be super scared of the white injuns (foreigners).
Next day we set off to Demul. At this point I should mention that our map consisted of a line drawn between the names of villages written down on a piece of paper with no distances mentioned, just the altitude of places we would pass on our way.
By the late afternoon we found ourselves still walking along the side of a mountain on a road that was ruined by avalanches - so not even jeep worthy- fully expecting that around the next bend, in the next valley we would find out Demul. We'd set off early so why were we not there? Its true that with the dog and fossil finding (yes, really, fossils of amonites, it used to be a sea bed) and Ibix spotting we took on a leisurely pace but when it got to five we started to wonder. Earlier the road had split, usuing only intuition we'd taken the top route - was it the right way.?
We came across the first people we'd seen since Comic, a group of boys who didn't seem interested to help and couldn't tell us if there was a village anywhere near. At this point we started to get a little nervous and began planning how to keep warm, spotting 'sheltered' spots/ It was getting colder and windy, the desert is not hospitable at night, even in Comic we slept in clothes and two blankets: The idea of a sleeping bag liner, a fire and a dog to cuddle doesn't cut it when its freezing .
Then we turned a valley and spotted a road - to Kaza- and thus some possibility that it came from somewhere over the other side of the mountain that we'd been walking along. There were signs of life- power lines and maybe a stupa pionting its white tip from over the hill and then, Shanon spotted a heard of goats moving across the steep slope, up and over the top of the mountain. Salvation might be around the corner! If the goats were going home then they could lead the way to a goat shed at the very least..... Bearing in mind it would take us at least an hour to get to the top of the hill it was still far away and high and we were very very tired) and we only had a wee bit mor ethen an hour of light, this was a risk to carry on walking and not prepare shelter. In goats we put our trust and hope and they led the way. It was a scary when we got to the top of the hill and didn't see any sign of humans, so following the mantra, we followed the goat shit down the hill, turned another corner and DAH-DAH............suddenly the most joyous moment of the trip, simultanerously we all saw a group of the most welcoming white tibentan houses on the other side of the valley.... we couldn't stop laughing for about five minutes as we continued to follow the goat prints down the hill. The homestay in Demul wasn't as nice - but afte rthe thought of sleeping outside anything was welcome.... .as was the news that our walk had been 25 kilometers..... some information that would have been helpful to know when setting off on the trek. We simply weren't mentally preparred for valley after valley to not be the one of Demul.
The thrird day was mostly a steep steep steep downhill walk along a tretcherous cliff face and a long flat walk to Lalung. We stopped on the way at a house in the middle of nowhere, having been invited in for Chai by a granny covering herself from the sun with a broken black umbrella and two little kids. I gave her a concert that she seemed to really really enjoy and they in turn directed us the right way. Onc eagain we realised that our 'map' was not enough. If we hadn't been stopped by the granny we could of happily wandered on the path on the wrong side of the river to our destination.... lesson learnt. Lalung was lovely, as was the homestay...... although the family were all out so it was just the wife and her young daughter hosting us.
Next day we set of to Dhankar - our last destination from where we could ge tsome form of transport back to Kaza. Once again we found the trail spilit and it was only our intuition that guided us in the right direction.... It was a stunning walk. Some parts of spiti are just rock and then you come across terrain that is a bit like the moor- with gorse bushes and thin grass , and then the random bit of snow that hasn't melted. Knocking on the door of a guesthouse to get lunch we met three indian guys also heading to Kaza. They got us all a free ride in he back of a truck to Kaza..... bumpy but you get to see so much without a roof abover your head.In return we got them rooms at our guesthouse and introduced them to the infamous dhaba with
squashed samaosas. By this time we stank. We hadn't washed in four days or changed clothes.... our greatest wish was a hot shower. But lo, the power was out of Kaza - everything was running on generators that day (apparently Punjab buys up all the power and so other states have days where poweer just dissappeares) and so we had to wait untill after the crazy 10 hour bus ride back (along the most beauitufl scary ride of my life) to Rekong Peo and then to the beautiful village of Kalpa.
In Kalpa we parted as Sarah and Shannon headed to Dharamsala with Kaja. Despite the numous rude awakenings of puppy biting my face in the morning and the nuisance of waiting for him to pee outside, I really missed the fluffball and his compadres. Kaja really was our puppy for a week. The himlayan trekking puppy...... I think with puppy and fiddle we left a good mark on Spiti- the strangest trio but one of the loveliest.
There's some more adventures but time is running out online and I'm hungry so it'll wait. I've no doubt my journey to Mumbai will pick up a few tales too..... at present I dont want to think about leaving. That said, I'm ready for a hot shower where the water doesn't run out....
Joole (hello and goodbye and everything inbetween in spitian language)
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