Category: Travel

  • Sikkim Day 4 – Seven Sisters and the Houses of Lachen

    Before we left Gangtok, we thought we’d take another shot at the rope-way. We reached there, sharp at 9.30 -opening time, and as should be expected from any self respecting government run set up, they claimed that routine maintenance would ensure that it opened only by 10.30.

    We couldn’t wait, for this was the day we began our journey to North Sikkim…with a driver who went by several names.. and surnames – Bhutia, Denzongpa. In turn, he was confused by our itinerary, until we told him, we’d pay extra for our trip to Zero Point later.

    httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ItOVTAtJY30

    The first stop was Tashi view point, from where, on cloudless days, one could see Kanchenjunga. Dark clouds loomed in the horizon, literally, and we saw the gurudwara at Gangtok, less that 10km away through a telescope, for Rs.10. And from there began the ‘Bone Awareness Drive’. The roads, which even on their best days, wouldn’t offer much solace, were more like rivers thanks to the rain. The Mahindra Maxx waded and bounced across them, introducing us to new sights and hitherto undiscovered bones at every turn. D reminded me that we could end up with a Wonderla experience. My back wished I was back in the hotel bed, but the scenic view made up for all of this.

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    The rain meant that the tourist’s attraction was more for the toilets provided at the scheduled tourist stops. The next stop was the ‘Seven Sisters’ waterfall. Our own waterfalls cost us Rs.2 each, the dowry has to be paid for, after all, I grumbled.

    Phodong monastery was relatively more peaceful, with monks munching away at the local version of Lays. This guy seemed to have some food for thought though.

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    We had lunch at the Hotel Kanchendzonga, so named because they took a fancy to it, not for any view. Simple, but effective meal. Mangan was the next break, but the erm, tourist attraction was the garage, where our driver had a few repairs done on the brakes. Then came the Naga falls. Falls count anywhere as tourist attractions, it seemed, judging by the crowds, though the roads practically served as waterfalls anyway. We got lucky at the Singhik view point, beating the rain by a few minutes. Amazing view.

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    By the time we reached Chungthang, it was 6.30. From there the road split – left to Lachen, and right to Lachung. We’d left Gangtok for Lachen, so we began the climb with the fast setting sun as our companion. The 30 km took us about 2 hours.

    The driver discussed how tourists were spoiling Sikkim’s ecosystem by littering and not even acknowledging the ubiquitous garbage disposal bins. From there we moved on to philosophy, the pace of life and respect for human lives in cities, and how even cows were now contemplating why they were crossing the road at night. The last one was important, because they chose to do so in the middle of the road, and narrow roads meant we had to coax them to finish the job and then contemplate. Horn vs. horn.

    Lachen had homestays disguised as hotels. We reached there at about 8.30, and had a simple meal, right in the kitchen, followed by sleep in a strictly functional room (with clean loos) I stretched out and completed ‘The Immortals of Meluha’, while D woke at 2.30 and chose to retch, such was her gall.

  • Sikkim Day 3 – Tea, Gangtalk, and the legend of Pawan Chamling

    The alternate plan we chose consisted of the tea estates in South Sikkim, and the Padmasambhava statue in Namchi. Our driver was the same, and that’s when we figured that we still didn’t know his name. Our expectations of a unique local name evaporated at the mention of ’Prakash’. We followed the same route as the day before, this time though, Prakash offered a lift to some lady friend/relative of his. The sign on the road that said ‘Welcome to Nathula and the old Silk Route’ seemed to be mocking us.

    The tea estates were actually more peaceful than Rumtek, as we watched the workers, laden with baskets, moving slowly.

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    httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s7OdfkZfmsA

    The rain insisted on greeting us again, and the tea estates and Namchi were shrouded in mist, just before the clouds opened. The kids didn’t seem too unhappy about having to stop their football game though. 🙂 The break meant that I even tried my hand at doing what  I’ve seen Twilight Fairy and Ashu Mittal do amazingly well.

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    Meanwhile, the mists meant that even the tall, all seeing statue couldn’t have had a view worth talking about. Pawan Chamling made his first appearance as the man who had conceptualised the entire statue idea. Thankfully, he didn’t do a Mayawati. Thereafter, we would behold this name on many bridges and other constructions. To borrow an old Escotel ad line “Only the rain covers Sikkim more than Pawan Chamling does”

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    We arrived late at Gangtok, at about 3, and were famished. We decided to drop in at Gangtalk. Though we initially got a seat inside, we managed to shift to one that offered a good view of MG Marg. By the time we got our food, it was almost 4. It turned out that they had other burning issues to tackle in the kitchen, literally. We spent our time looking at the Bollywood posters on display – Teesri Manzil, Guide, and hey, Karz. I looked at D, and she glared back. There was a raucous group at the neighboring table. A kitty party, we thought, and points were being given for the most absurd cackle that could be generated. If ever a ‘Gangtok Times’ were launched, this crowd would probably populate Page 3. My prayers, Gangtok. The meal was redeemed by a superb Khwa Sye (sic). (Khao Soi) The owners were quite apologetic about the delay, and we saw the scene enacted at many other tables. We were the last set, it meant we had a longer chat. They promised that if we returned for dinner, they would redeem themselves.

    We had planned to catch the ropeway in the evening. We reached there at 4.40, and learned that though the information that it was open till 5 was right, ticket sales stopped at 4.30. We trudged back, to a place where I clicked ’the bull in the china shop’, even as D bought herself a nice handbag, and finally ended up across the street  (from Gangtalk) at Baker’s Café. Mostly for the MG Marg view. We were lucky enough not to get a seat that offered the view, because the other side had an even more splendid view.. of the mountains.

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    Surrounded mostly by foreigners and giggly high school girls, yet another music related nostalgic journey was triggered as I listened to ‘The Power of Love’ and ‘I want to know what love is’. The girls seemed to be enjoying it much, and I wondered whether these songs would always appeal to an age in life and stand the test of time, despite other entrants in the music scene.

    We arrived at Mintokling, struggling for breath, and caught glimpses of  poor Shashi Tharoor also struggling to retain his post. Dinner was at Café Live & Loud, and the chilly pork was awesome. Another place with a great ambiance. They’ll probably remember me too, when they get their internet bill.

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    Reciprocally, D would remember them later at night too, as her cheese pizza retraced its path. I wondered if she  had sampled the massively popular, Danny Denzongpa owned ‘Hit’ beer  (he also owns an alcohol brand called ‘He-Man’) when I was looking at the ‘pure’ Gujarati restaurant across the road.

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    For now, we hit the bed.

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  • Sikkim Day 2 – Mixed Signals

    We began the day slightly late, since we had minimal plans. Fresh from the giant momo experience from the day before, we decided to go out for breakfast and the Sonam Delek on Tibet Road ensured that we were well fed, though they did seem surprised that someone from outside (not a guest staying there) would choose their place for breakfast.

    We set off for Rumtek monastery soon afterwards. The Alto snaked its way through Deorali and Ranipool, and finally reached Rumtek, where the parking space was already full with arriving and departing visitors. A small climb got us to the monastery where the monks seemed to be having a lunch break. We were lucky enough to take a look at the sanctum before it too closed for an hour. It also meant that the silence in the small room was disrupted by a visitor shouting from the window to her companions below to come quickly. The monk in charge tried to dissuade her repeatedly and finally gave up.

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    We walked around a bit and took a few snaps. The title of this post has a lot to do with the scenes there. The monasteries in Leh were places which awed us with their silence. A sense of peace was all pervasive, not just in the way it was reflected in the face of monks, and the grace in their interactions with us, but in our own selves too. Rumtek seemed to be fighting a losing battle with what is popularly known as progress. Monks with cell phones, prayer wheels and satellite dishes side by side, and the way inhabitants seemed to be basking in the attention of tourists.

    We stopped on the way back and D was delighted to try out a Sikkim dress at Shanti View point. Photographs and even a ‘behind the scenes’ video followed. We reached Gangtok just in time for lunch. The beef at Allen’s kitchen (opposite Dominos Pizza) was highly recommended online, and we decided to give it a try. Unfortunately, Allen told us that he had stopped serving beef since many of his clientele had objections, but the pork momos, Thai red curry combo, the chicken chowmein, and the banana milk shake in the end meant that we had no reason to complain. This wonderful place, which oozed character, was one of the most redeeming happenings in the trip. I showed Allen the print outs that extolled the beef he used to serve. He could sense our disappointment and even offered to get it for us the next day.  Amazing place, and an awesome guy. If ever you go to Gangtok, make sure you drop in here.

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    As we stepped out of Allen’s kitchen, our biggest enemy made its presence felt. I have been in downpours in Kerala, and the ones in Sikkim match them in intensity and duration. Gangtok has this nice navigation structure, which might be common in hill towns, I guess. Though the roads loop, there are stairways between roads for pedestrians. We emerged out of one straight into the Gandhi path, okay, MG Marg, where people were busy sheltering themselves. We waited a while staring at my ‘status’ …….

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    ….and then plodded into Lal Bazaar, several floors of everything from vegetables to apparel. A mall of roadside vendors, if you will. They however didn’t seem very interested in us purchasing anything. D wondered if it had anything to do with the way the people of the region are treated in the rest of India. I thought it had to do with their revenue coming from foreigners.

    Music band merchandise (I remembered some twitter folk when I saw a ‘Lamb of God’ bag), luxury brands, all can be found here. A few hours later, we left, with my newly acquired army fatigue design umbrella, and the amazing lightness of being sheltered from the torrential rains. We dropped in at Cacao, a decent coffee shop, from where we could watch MG Marg,as they watched us.

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    D discovered the ‘hot lemon with honey’ and I played safe with a hot chocolate. I was still muttering about the attitude of the shopkeepers when I asked for the bill. The girl smiled and told us to wait a while, since there wasn’t much we could achieve while it was raining so heavily.

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    Suite Heart indeed. 🙂 We walked out a little later, and arrived panting at Mintokling. The amazing heaviness of steep climbs!! A small nap later, we were ready for dinner.

    Tangerine was another place recommended on the web. It was close by, on Tibet Road again, and we reached the subterranean restaurant (3 levels below the entrance) remembering that we would have to climb up after the meal.  Tangerine took me back in time with its music – Lobo, Air Supply, Foreigner etc made a decent setting, though we had to wait forever for the food to arrive. Thankfully, it was decent enough not to warrant another set of complaints. 😀

    Sometime in between, our Day 3 plan got completely scrapped thanks to the rain, and we got busy choosing from alternate plans.

  • Sikkim Day 1 – Uninstall Driver.. please

    As my friend Partha Jha (who has made it a habit to get into my vacation posts) would agree, there are many ways to see kim. ‘Off for some GangTalk’, said my status message on 15th, and that’s where it would start. That’s also where we end the silly wordplay, almost. 🙂

    Two flights took us over 2500 km from Bangalore, and landed us in Bagdogra in West Bengal, the nearest airport, about 120 kms from Gangtok, an estimated road journey of 4 hours, that began at 3.30 pm. At the airport, we noticed this father’s touching concern for his daughter’s health – never too early to start exercising..

    httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zvgaaYZsi8g

    We crossed Siliguri, and stopped at a roadside shop for some much needed nutrition. Sivok served us a decent chaat and chai. That’s the name of a place, by the way. 🙂

    The climb began slowly as we uneventfully crossed Rambi (no Stallone jokes okay!) and Teesta. There was a minor roadblock at Malli, at the bazaar, but thankfully all was well in a few minutes. Darkening sky, mountains looming in the distance, the lights of the dam construction on the Teesta river, twisting roads, small roadside temples, perfect time for a small nap when suddenly the car stereo began playing ‘Ek Haseena thi’, from Karzzz. I asked D if she had anything in mind, and she told me not to drive her crazy at the beginning of a vacation.

    The drive was quite a learning experience, as D and I now know ‘Kamini ki dastaan’ (the lyrics of the song above), and the Bachna ae Haseeno title track completely. There were a couple of others too, but for my own good, my brain seems to have cordoned off the area. We heard these about 5 times each, as they mimicked the looping mountain roads. Just when I was about to sing along and scar the driver for life, some primal instinct made him turn it off.

    At Rangpo, where Sikkim began, the driver asked us to answer with a nearby town’s name if the cops asked us where we were from. When I asked him the reason, he said they were strict about not allowing in people from Nepal. D and I looked at each other to confirm our features and skin tone, and nodded to acknowledge the driver’s supreme intellect. We pretended to be asleep when we stopped at the border, in case we answered in Nepali accidentally.

    To distract him from playing more music and havoc, we quizzed him on the various places in Gangtok we planned to visit, and he confidently gave us the respective distances from our hotel. It turned out later that the joke was on us – he was the one distracting us from his utter lack of knowledge of where the hotel in Gangtok was!! That meant that we took an extra hour to reach Mintokling, our campaign headquarters. Sometime during the journey, we were informed that due to heavy rains, our Day 2 plan of Nathula, and Tsongpo lake would not happen. Since we had one more day in Gangtok, we asked for the Day 2 and 3 plans to be interchanged.

    Mintokling turned out to be an excellent place to stay, and we were thankful for its small restaurant. We ordered dinner, starting with momos and including a special Sikkim dish to go with the rotis. We confirmed that the dish had a gravy, and were met with an enthusiastic “yes, thick gravy“. The small detail that wasn’t mentioned was that the ‘thick gravy’ was enclosed in a super momo structure. A branch of peace was offered in the form of dal, and we left it at that.

    The day ended on a high, as I found 2 Malayalam channels on the telly. It is somehow comforting to hear many people speak one’s language, when one has had an eventful day like the one above.

  • Andamanned – Part 4 – Prison Diary

    Part 1, 2, 3

    We wanted to try out a specific restaurant for dinner, but apparently the driver stayed far away and I could sense he wasn’t too happy about having to wait. Anyway, we had more than an hour to kill before dinner, and the driver was at his wit’s end as we knocked down his suggestions one by one. No, we didn’t want to see the light and sound show at the Cellular jail. We actually ended up at Mahatma Gandhi park, for children, and laughed at ourselves and the Patton Tank we found, over a good walk. We then asked the driver to drop us at Marine Park, and go home. He asked us about our dinner plans at that particular restaurant, and we said we’d dropped that.

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    The Marine park has a wonderful promenade, and allows long walks on pathways that extend into the water. It reminded me of Marine Drive in Cochin. I am fascinated by night lights, especially by the sea shore. Not the dazzling kind, but the ones that make themselves a background, as though each light tells a story. And it was here that Port Blair would offer me the second glimpse of itself (after Corbyn) that I would take away with me. I saw old couples taking their evening walk, younger couples putting the cozy nooks offered to good use, tourists taking pedaled boat rides in the water complex, young executives catching up in small groups, after a long day at work. Like locals everywhere, I wondered if they could ever look at their town the way I looked at it – in a tourist kind of way, though I have read that the economy is supported a lot by tourism. But Port Blair, except for the airport, and the ferry, didn’t seem to go overboard on it. Its a little town, like any other Indian town, made special because of its history, and its unique place away from the mainland. Not a choice it made.

    We dined at ‘The New Lighthouse’. This one also offered a spectacular view. The fish this time was awesome, though the rest of the dinner was unremarkable. On the way back, I clicked some things that continue to puzzle me

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    An uneventful, yet peaceful last night on Andaman.

    The next morning, we finally went to Mandalay, the place I’d wanted to dine at. It was only 2 km from our hotel, but it was difficult to get transportation back from there, and that meant the driver had to wait, something which put him off the previous night, but which he was okay with in the morning. Hearty breakfast, including a mushroom omelet made by someone who knows how to do it, and the splendid view the web had promised me. Slightly expensive, but worth a visit. By a sub conscious association, I kept humming the very catchy ‘The Road to Mandalay’.

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    We quickly proceeded to the Cellular Jail. It opens at 9 and there weren’t many visitors when we reached – 10.00. We took the services of a guide, who did a good job of taking us around the place and explaining things we might have missed otherwise. The art gallery was a good starter, but I was thrilled with the Netaji photo gallery. I went into a click frenzy, and it continued until we left the place. The effects of the cellular jail, in addition to the history lessons, are the automatic sighs and the lumps in the throat as you see the cells, the gallows, the central tower. One can only imagine – from the pictures and other exhibits, the travails of the prisoners. All for the freedom we take for granted now. But still, my heartfelt gratitude. You didn’t have to, and yet you chose to. Thank you.

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    httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UftSlljuLu8

    The guide told us that at the counter, we hadn’t been given a ticket in spite of asking, which meant that the official could pocket the money. We picked up the luggage from the hotel and quickly left for the airport, only to be told that the flight was delayed by half an hour. The airport was chaotic, with people representing quite a few communities. Bengalis, Punjabis, Tamilians, Gujaratis, Mallus like us. I wondered if it was always like this. Perhaps the limited means of transportation to the islands meant that everyone would have to use the airport, and on days like this, it would be a mini Cellular Jail, for an hour or so, which left everyone free to swear loudly in respective languages at the flight’s delay, to make separate queues in which one was first, to shove each other off queues that were finally formed, to litter the airport and make it a gigantic trash bin. To revel in hard earned freedom.

    As I look back, I have much to remember – the lazing around on Vinnie’s beach, the snorkeling trip, the beautiful uninhabited Wilson Island, the aimless walking around in Port Blair, Corbyn’s Cove, and all those thoughts about progress and where the collective will of its humankind would take these islands.

    until next time, endaman 🙂

    PS: The last vacation, when I described Leh, several people mailed me for an itinerary. I am writing a short recommended one below, in case you’re interested.

    Day 0: Reach Chennai from wherever you are (or Calcutta, though check when the flights are)

    Day 1: Catch the 10:15 KF flight to Port Blair. You’ll land at about 12.30. KF feeds you, but if you feel hungry, you have time for a quick snack before the ferry at 2.00. The tickets are difficult to get the same day (until they have the promised online system) so you should organise it before. In spite of the small goof up, I’d highly recommend Vinnie’s for stay at Havelock and their Meet and Greet service.

    Day 2: Snorkel at Elephant’s beach, Dive (rates at Vinnie‘s site) and off to Radhanagar in the afternoon. Go right till the end to the small lagoon for a good sunset view. Visit Red Snapper, its quite close by. Roads could be dark, get a torch.

    Day 3: Wilson Island definitely. Off to Port Blair in the afternoon, preferably by the 12.30 ferry. That’ll give you enough time to catch the Cellular Jail the same evening. (entry allowed till 4 pm) City King Palace is quite a decent place. Fish Dinner at Lighthouse/ Mandalay.

    Day 4: Ross Island, and leave by the 12.50 flight.

    Resources: Vinnie’s (including Diving rates),  Wiki including Citi King Palace, Havelock Wiki

    PPS:  D has named her Orkut album “Between the devil and the deep blue sea’.