Ladakh - Nubra Valley (Diskit, Hundar)

We were supposed to begin the day with a 7 km trek through the desert. It turned out to be a 6 km walk on the village road, with one final sandy bit. We had been warned the ‘trek’ would take atleast a couple of hours. We finished it in slightly over an hour, without any breaks. Stanzin smiled sheepishly and told us that Indians normally took a long time to walk this stretch and stopped for breaks every ten minutes. The destination point had been the famous Bactrian camel ride near Hundar. We were very early and after running up and down the sand dunes for a while, finally decided to get the camel owners to get moving on the ride bit.

Bactrian camels, unlike normal camels, are double humped. I watched with wonder as they appeared into view. Unlike the lovely photographs I had seen before, their humps were kind of sagging over their backs. Besides, they all looked terribly tall. Mine looked terribly annoyed. After I got onto it, he was persuaded to stand up. Then he looked around and decided to sit down again. One more round of persuasion later, he stood up again. Each time, he decided to do his squats, I lurched, my heart lurched, the world around me lurched. Throughout the fifteen minute ride, I sat clutching the rug tied to the camel with my sweaty palms. Many photos later, we were done.

After checking out of the Olathang Hotel where we were staying and grabbing a bite, we decided to visit the Diskit monastery. Sachin and Sandeep, enthused by the morning walk, decided to walk it up. The rest of us, wisely refrained from exercising our limbs in a post lunch stupor and took the vehicle. At any rate, it was not long before the duo joined us at the monastery.

Diskit’s monastery is old and situated on a picturesque mountaintop. It has plenty of staircases leading to various hidden corners and locked doors. Also, being in the less frequented Nubra, it did not have quite as many visitors. We decided to park ourselves in one of those stairways that wrapped itself around the monastery. The view was stunning. The only sounds were that of a river flowing nearby and Sandeep trying various threads of conversation as the rest of us sat in silence.

After some general quiet and peace, it was time to move on to Hundar, our next stop. The guesthouse here was not so fancy. But it was by far the best in terms of a view. Our rooms were located in a lovely cottage with a lovelier porch. The porch faced the mountainside and we could see an old monastery perched somewhere in the middle. When we walked about town in the evening, we realized that this old monastery was not frequented often and had a narrow, long and steep walk up to it. We stuck to the relatively popular and comfortably accessible town monastery.

Aswath, (winner of the moniker ‘go-getter Nirvana seeker’), plopped down to meditate. Everyone tried it for a while. Boy! sitting on crossed legs with a straight back is quite torturous. Give me stretching my legs by walking any day and a while later I decided to give up on religion and begin exploring nature alongside the nearby river. Everyone joined and all of us chose our spots and did our own thing. As I sang corny old 90s Hindi songs to myself, confident that no one would hear me above the sound of the river, Sachin amused himself by singling out the sound of the river in different spots and Priyanthi simply lay on a rock and looked at the sky.

We walked back up and started chatting with the military guys there. They were guarding a bridge that had ‘no access beyond this point’ signs plastered clearly. This turned out to be the road to Siachen, one of the contentious border areas that India has with Pakistan. Postings to Siachen can be long and lonely and at that altitude, even eating becomes painful. The army chap smiled wryly when we told him we loved the mountains. ‘Try seeing them for one year continuously’ he commented, mocking my definitely urban soul.

Back at the guesthouse, the completely unused pack of cards was finally used, while we waited for 8.30 p.m. – our dinner slot. Given limited dining space and a limited kitchen, all of us had to pre-order the food and show up at the scheduled time. Except, our scheduled time got pushed as the single handyman running the show scurried about. Eventually, we were served. Priyanthi and I sat and cast quizzical glances at each other when we spied a Bengali couple, clearly on their honeymoon, being chaperoned by an elderly gentleman. The handyman, meanwhile, in an effort to be chatty with his customers, asked us if we were sisters. We both spontaneously replied ‘Yes’. The idea of trying to explain that we were friends, who looked similar, just seemed too tiring and unnecessary

Ladakh - Nubra Valley, Khardung La

By the time we got to the grocery store, figured out that there was no electricity, searched out an internet café which would let us download songs from Sandeep’s mobile and then set out for Nubra, it was a bright and sunny ten a.m.

The road to Nubra goes past Khardung La, the world’s highest motorable road at 18000 + feet. It also seemed to be the sharpest ascent, since in a mere 35 kms, we had scaled 4000 feet from Leh. Stanzin drove the last bit very slowly and carefully, yet my heart was pumping really fast as I pointedly looked ahead, ignoring the sheer drop. There were cyclists pushing ahead with amazing amounts of energy. At that altitude, you had to be superfit to even attempt cycling.

We had already seen Taglang La and Chang La and could not wait to see what Khardung La looked like. The peaks around us were beginning to appear at our eye level, so were the distant clouds (that's a pic taken on the way).

Then we reached. We could have been on Chennai’s Marina Beach or Ooty’s Dodhabeta or Mumbai’s Gateway of India. The crowd was unbelievable. There was a buzz as everyone followed the routine of getting off, using the toilets and then positioning themselves in front of one of the many boards that proclaimed ‘Khardung La, the world’s highest motorable pass’ to take a snap. Aged aunties, who rightfully should have been pumped with oxygen given the difficult in breathing, waddled sprightly to the nearest signboard. And some of them were being given oxygen later. But photos at any cost seemed the motto.

Stanzin later explained that a lot of people made it a point to make a day trip to Khardung La from Leh. Hence it usually got crowded and touristy. Seeing no reason to stay for too long, we followed the routine and then continued to Nubra Valley.

The descent took long, over 100 kms of winding roads. We stopped for army convoys making their way over to Leh and stared in wonder at all the vehicles. Nubra finally appeared, in its beautiful valley glory. There was a green patch. Then there was a vast, flat mudland with a single tarred road running in the centre of it. We could have been in a James Bond movie, discovering a nuclear hideout for Russians. It was so deserted, desolate, yet humming with activity.

It was long past lunchtime, yet the fat, home-made chowmein that was presented to us as food had few takers. Stuffing what we could, we made our way to Panamik and watched the hot spring – a tiny bit of water gurgling from the bowels of the earth, fairly hot when it appeared and gradually cooling down. From there, it was to Samsthanaling Monastery at Sumoor. Just 150 years old, this was much quieter than any of the monasteries we had seen earlier.

It was my turn to sit at the back of the car. The day had been long and hot. The ride was getting bumpy. The music CD, after having regaled me with a medley of various favourite artists, had settled into Metallica. The speakers were right over my head and amplifying what I had already put down as noise. In a matter of minutes, I was cranky and snapped at anyone who ventured to talk to me. Yet all was forgotten when we got stuck in a ‘traffic jam’ (basically the guy operating the road roller for an ongoing road construction refusing to let anyone pass through till he finished one segment). We got out and jumped around in the nearby sand dunes, playing like little kids.

We reached Diskit when it was beginning to get dark. Everyone else went for a walk in the two streets forming the town. I stayed back and read my book. Dinner turned out to be really nice, especially after the sad lunch. I slept well, dreaming of sand dunes and Metallica.

Ladakh - Pangong

I slowly began to pack my stuff. Priya was still finishing her morning routine. There was a knock at the door. I opened it, wondering if another round of tea was being sent up. There, bright eyed and bushy tailed, stood Sachin, Aswath and Sandeep. It was ten minutes to start time. My jaw dropped to the floor. With the smuggest smile I had seen the trio asked ‘you girls are not ready yet? Let us know when you are’. And triumphantly, they marched back to their rooms.

We had an unprecedented record of sorts.

The road from Tangste to Pangong is quite unassuming till you reach the river bed. With huge, round stones strewn all around, and water beginning to trickle in, I was surprised that any vehicle other than a four wheel drive could even attempt riding on them. We watched as various vehicles began to slowly trudge their way. Stanzin was leading from the front – now dislodging the rocks, next jumping on the vehicles to stop them from sinking to the ground, he was having a busy day. Eventually, our vehicle passed through too.

Pangong was another beauty. Not as brilliantly blue as Tso Moriri, it was still impressive in its sheer vastness. With a length of 140 kms, of which about two third lies in Tibet, the lake seemed like the sea. I had never seen such large lakes at any rate and could not stop oohing. Then all of us settled to do our own thing. Which in my case turned out to be an obsessive need to throw stones into the water in a manner where they skimmed the surface of the lake at several points before sinking. I got pretty good at the game before it was time to leave, even wondering if I would be given admission into the Shaolin Chambers.

We had a late breakfast at Tangste at a lovely riverside restaurant, listening to the water tumbling over rocks. The journey back to Leh was long but had a good stop at Changla, with free tea supplied by the army helped matters and we got the unique blessings of Changla baba (see pic).

It was evening when we reached. But boy, were we glad to see the hot showers!

The plan was to try to get some new music CDs. The guys decided that the first stop would be to check with internet cafes if they could cut us CDs from their stock. Priya and I used the time to shop and generally browse. Finally we realised that one of the grocery stores that had been playing Iron Maiden when we last shopped there would probably be happy to let us cut a CD from their collection. As the rest of us ordered dinner at the Dreamland restaurant, Priya and Sandeep sat and selected songs for a nice compilation. Unfortunately the store’s CD drive was not working. We would have to come back in the morning with my pen drive. Still, the music scene was looking up.

Ladakh - Tangste

Tip for the day – carry mouthwash for days when it is too cold to rinse your mouth out with the tap water

I discovered just how cold the water can get at 5.15 in the morning when I made some attempts at brushing my teeth. The rest did not fare better. We were ready to be off by 6.30, as usual half an hour late.

We were taking the picturesque Leh-Manali road. In about an hour’s time, we reached Taglang La, the world’s second highest motorable road. Despite the cold breeze, all of us jumped out to take ‘I have been there’ pictures. Then we jumped right back in and continued. The scenery was beautiful, especially the trees which stood out after days of no greenery.

Stanzin decided to reload the diesel in the car and nonchalantly strolled to a store to pick up a can of the stuff. Then he casually lit a cigarette and got down to switching the diesel from one can to another. Priya and I gasped as the vision of all of us being blown into a huge red fireball loomed in front of our eyes. But nope, the man just grinned when we pointed out the idiocy of it. Our secret suspicion that he was some kind of a super hero in disguise began to grow.

After breakfast at Upshi, we turned into the road for Pangong. After several hours, we began to get the news that the road to Pangong had been flooded. By the time we reached Pangong’s nearest village, Tangtse the news had been confirmed. With no other options, we decided to check into a guest house in Tangste and fantasize about our tents in Pangong. Though secretly, I was happy to be in a warm room with an attached toilet again after two days of freezing in a tent.

Our guesthouse seemed to be quite large and had a beautiful picture of a well developed city in a terrain similar to Ladakh’s. Priya ventured that perhaps it was China’s vision for Leh. Which was a pretty reasonable one given how close we were to Tibet, the huge Indian army presence and how many areas seemed to be accessible only through permits. As it turned out, the picture was actually that of Lhasa. It was difficult to believe Lhasa was this large and commercial.

The evening’s entertainment involved walking up Tangste’s single street, noting the army depots and camps. Dinner was at the guesthouse, where we were served in traditional low Ladakhi tables and given chopsticks to eat with. I played with my food for a long time, swallowing tiny pieces of noodles and rice, finally discovering why all Chinese women looked so thin. There is no way anyone can have a full meal on those sticks.

We went to sleep, warning the boys that we really had to be on time the next day given that the road to Pangong would get flooded before 10 a.m.

Ladakh - Tso Kar

We had a late start, only at 11. Around ten, I developed a splitting headache. Sachin had one too. High Altitude sickness was hitting the two of us. We staggered into the jeep and held our heads for pretty much half of the bumpy ride to Tso Kar. Luckily, drinking lots and lots of water and eating Diamox helped. We recovered in time for our driver, Stanzin, to pull up by a stream with two black necked cranes. An endangered species, it is usually hard to spot them.

Gingerly, we all began to walk silently, trying not to crunch up the rubble. After a while, only Sandeep and Aswath were continuing. The cranes did not fly away. Instead, they seemed to be playing a game too, moving in a manner that kept the distance between them and us constant. Eventually Sandeep and Aswath abandoned the quest and came back. We decided to have our packed lunch (another rip-off from Nomadic camp) and watch the birds. Stanzin finished off his lunch quickly and then grabbing our camera, decided to stalk them. Much more suited to the job than any of us, he nimbly bounced from one rock to another and kept at the job for a long time. Eventually he came back, gave his lopsided grin (which we would all grow to suspect and love) and informed us that he had not clicked the pics in zoom mode. So after all that time and effort, we had pictures of two black and white spots.

Tso Moriri is a great bio diversity hot spot. We could not see a single bird that looked normal (which by Mumbai definition would mean pigeons, crows and the occasional sparrows). We spotted various ducks, red starts and rose finches, not to mention the camera-shy burrowing creatures – the marmots. None of which I would have been able to name but for Aswath. Even without knowing the names, it was possible to admire them, beautiful as they were.

The journey to Tso Kar, did not take too long – around four hours and was in some strange way quite picturesque. However, the road was barely there. We seemed to be driving over plain ground for most part, giving Stanzin a chance to show off the vehicle’s ruggedness. Jolted, we arrive in Tso Kar.

‘Tso’ means lake. It was a bit of a surprise when we realised that Tso Kar did not have a lake. Infact our campsite was at what had been a lake bed once upon a time. The lake had long receded to other parts. Nevertheless, we did our mandatory strolling and clicking. Dinner was much more sumptuous, and less well priced. The tents were also warmer. All of us slept much better.