It has been a long time I have given my writing finesse some favour. So here when I sit down to pen down my thoughts, there is high probability of incoherence between what I perceive and what I express. Walking down the memory lane has been my favourite pastime being the utterly retrograde person I am.
It was about dusk. My flight landed at Bagdogra and the ultimate destination to be reached was Darjeeling. I hired a taxi and after a while, we reached Siliguri and it appeared that Siliguri was about to sleep. Through the chaos of the town, the intermittent stench, and the tea gardens, we started our drive up hill. We had 3 or 4 close shaves with oncoming vehicles, sometimes almost colliding head on. We even saw a motor- scooterist skidding round a bend and falling off his scooter, his cigarette still firmly in his mouth albeit slightly bent! We passed through farms and villages, were held back for half an hour on one of several roads which are sinking due to heavy trucks which would not have been allowed on these roads during the British days. The Himalayan villagers were friendly and warm, still unspoilt by tourism. All the heavy vehicles had the words "Please Horn" painted in primary colours on their backs and all along the way there were notices painted into the sides of the hill reminding drivers to sound their horns. We stopped for tea at Kurseong, Land of the White Orchid.
The narrow roads to the foothills of Shivalik were intertwined all along by railway lines (Darjeeling Himalayan Railway). Roads on the rail or rails on the road? They seemed like a series of “mating serpents”. I was wondering how any train could run on such a narrow gauge. Moreover, it was also very close to the settlements and people were going about their daily activities right on the track, a guy keeping his newly shined shoes to dry on the tracks, one woman cleaning utensils from the stream running adjacent to the track, sitting on it!! So on and so forth, it was as if the tracks were such an integral part of their lives. The roads were typical of any hilly area. Green on either sides, steep curves,streams, rivulets, culverts, ravines and many gorges that seemed endless. I have read too many books regarding Mountains hiding behind the mist, grey sky, invisible valleys, relentless rain, worn out road and it was the reality during my visit in mid-June. The narrow roads were punctuated by villages. The writings on the walls spoke about allegiance to India but separation from West Bengal. Vehicles with GL registration surprised me initially, then I came to terms with a novel form of protest. The blue coloured train just meandered past us joyfully spitting tonnes of smoke.
We were soon in Darjeeling- the “Honermooner's Paradise”. The quaint town discovered by two British agents, with its cobbled streets and bungalows lets you experience remnants of the “Victorian past” and because of my fascination with Victorian Era, it, no doubt, attracted me. The streets in the market take their own turns and go up hill at their whims. Selling mostly winter wear and memorabilia, this market closes way early that one could imagine. Just past 5 and it’s late and dark in Darjeeling. Don’t miss to walk in to a bakery, and especially Glenary and have some “out of the world” pastries and ice creams.
First a little chilly and soon the ice cream gives you a frozen experience. At 8pm, you are left with no option but reach your hotel room and surf channels.
Early in the morning we were off to watch the sunrise at Tiger Hills. Duh! Sunrise, what’s so invigorating about a sunrise, this was my first reaction. A detour from Ghoom railway station takes you uphill to Tiger Hills. 4:15a.m. It’s pitch dark. “You are approached” (No! people, leave your dirty thoughts aside) by women selling coffee/tea at this hour. They trudge all the way uphill to sell coffee /tea to tourists. Give them money for the effort, even more for the tea. A large crowd waiting on the ground and many waiting a level above. All waiting to see a sunrise. From the enclosure(a level above),all you can hear is a crowd singing what seemed like folk songs; you are blinded by the innumerable flashes clicked. Reaching early helped us get a window for a perfect window for the sunrise. But, still I was sure of this exercise being a dull, waste of time created to fool tourists. And, I was wrong as usual. It was indeed stunning! What was more surprising was the crowd ... ocean of people and the cabs parked along the road for KMs ... People were shouting and laughing, smoking and shivering, just to watch golden Mt. K at sunrise. On your right, the sun slowly appears above the horizon. The golden rays slyly sneaking out. The darkness was giving way to many shades of orange. Though unwillingly, the blue sky was accepting the unwelcome golden rays. Within minutes, a glow appears on a mountain range on your left. The Sun beaming in glory on your right, mercilessly outshone by the sheen of the Kanchenjunga on your left. The Kanchenjunga that appeared drab in those black and white pictures in my school Geography text book, was vivid and resplendent here, enjoying every moment of the attention she got. Unfazed by the clouds’ attempts to mask her brilliance, this white beauty’s radiant smile left us in love with her. I was lucky enough to see how it dominates Darjeeling’s horizon as then it disappeared into swirls of mist and cloud for the next six days that I was in Darjeeling and Sikkim. I never saw it again. Apparently, the mountain people say that the mountain chooses who it reveals itself to, so I feel blessed to have seen it at all.
We then decided to check out The Darjeeling Himalayan Railway, nicknamed the “Toy Train”. The Darjeeling station and the toy train itself is a work of beauty. Built by the British, it has retained its old world feel and one is transported to the bygone era standing at the station and looking at the steam spewing engines with their quaint coaches. Soon, it was time for our joyride, we took our seats inside the trains, clicked a lot of pics and not only us , all the co-passengers, young & old had turned into children in that train; all the passengers were getting in and out of the train, clicking pics from different angles. When the train started to move, it was such a funny experience, as it was moving at a maximum speed of 10 km per hour!! But it was interesting too, at certain places, the houses and shops were so near to the rail track that I felt that could reach out my hand and grab the stuff displayed on the shop!! The train’s whistling and billowing out white smoke at intervals was such a different experience, we felt transported back to the 1800s!! Chugging slowly, we reached The Batasia Loop.
The Batasia Loop, where the Darjeeling trains take a U turn and the Gurkha Memorial is situated on a hillock that promises a panoramic view of the town.
Isn’t it a sacrilege to miss the visit to a tea estate when in Darjeeling? A foggy morning. A gentle breeze, the golden rays of the sun, a whole valley covered with tea plantations. The leaves are just freshening up, trying to clear the mist on them. The intoxicating aroma of a cup of tea takes your senses to a newer high. The taste is heavenly. The whole experience is suddenly a notch above bliss. We walked for about half an hour or more, past the collection of small houses where the tea workers live and out into the tea gardens. At that elevation we could see for miles, and we were completely surrounded by carefully trimmed tea bushes growing in a luxuriant pattern. From a distance, a tea garden looks like a thick deep green carpet. The air was fresh and clean and the atmosphere calm, sunny and very happy indeed.
We had a very quick visit to the Darjeeling zoo as we did not expect much there and plus I had been to many “zoos”. The famous 45 minutes rope-way was in disuse after an accident some years back, we were told. So, now I was more enthusiastic about the ropeway. And thank God, I didn’t miss it. The beauty of the tea plantations, the perfect weather would have got missed, had I cancelled the visit.
During my stay there, I was just disappointed for not able to get good pictures. Be it the erratic rain or the slovenly grey sky, pictures looked dull. But obviously that doesn’t matter at all (“or may be to some extent”) as the journey was an indelible one- the one, which I never wanted to end. I had a busy two-and-half days in Darjeeling, but still had lots of time to relax in my fireplace heated room and on the breath taking terraces of my hotel, to shop for tea, to walk the mall and to drink tea, of course. From Darjeeling, I went to Sikkim … But that’s another entry for another day…
It was about dusk. My flight landed at Bagdogra and the ultimate destination to be reached was Darjeeling. I hired a taxi and after a while, we reached Siliguri and it appeared that Siliguri was about to sleep. Through the chaos of the town, the intermittent stench, and the tea gardens, we started our drive up hill. We had 3 or 4 close shaves with oncoming vehicles, sometimes almost colliding head on. We even saw a motor- scooterist skidding round a bend and falling off his scooter, his cigarette still firmly in his mouth albeit slightly bent! We passed through farms and villages, were held back for half an hour on one of several roads which are sinking due to heavy trucks which would not have been allowed on these roads during the British days. The Himalayan villagers were friendly and warm, still unspoilt by tourism. All the heavy vehicles had the words "Please Horn" painted in primary colours on their backs and all along the way there were notices painted into the sides of the hill reminding drivers to sound their horns. We stopped for tea at Kurseong, Land of the White Orchid.
The narrow roads to the foothills of Shivalik were intertwined all along by railway lines (Darjeeling Himalayan Railway). Roads on the rail or rails on the road? They seemed like a series of “mating serpents”. I was wondering how any train could run on such a narrow gauge. Moreover, it was also very close to the settlements and people were going about their daily activities right on the track, a guy keeping his newly shined shoes to dry on the tracks, one woman cleaning utensils from the stream running adjacent to the track, sitting on it!! So on and so forth, it was as if the tracks were such an integral part of their lives. The roads were typical of any hilly area. Green on either sides, steep curves,streams, rivulets, culverts, ravines and many gorges that seemed endless. I have read too many books regarding Mountains hiding behind the mist, grey sky, invisible valleys, relentless rain, worn out road and it was the reality during my visit in mid-June. The narrow roads were punctuated by villages. The writings on the walls spoke about allegiance to India but separation from West Bengal. Vehicles with GL registration surprised me initially, then I came to terms with a novel form of protest. The blue coloured train just meandered past us joyfully spitting tonnes of smoke.
We were soon in Darjeeling- the “Honermooner's Paradise”. The quaint town discovered by two British agents, with its cobbled streets and bungalows lets you experience remnants of the “Victorian past” and because of my fascination with Victorian Era, it, no doubt, attracted me. The streets in the market take their own turns and go up hill at their whims. Selling mostly winter wear and memorabilia, this market closes way early that one could imagine. Just past 5 and it’s late and dark in Darjeeling. Don’t miss to walk in to a bakery, and especially Glenary and have some “out of the world” pastries and ice creams.
First a little chilly and soon the ice cream gives you a frozen experience. At 8pm, you are left with no option but reach your hotel room and surf channels.
Early in the morning we were off to watch the sunrise at Tiger Hills. Duh! Sunrise, what’s so invigorating about a sunrise, this was my first reaction. A detour from Ghoom railway station takes you uphill to Tiger Hills. 4:15a.m. It’s pitch dark. “You are approached” (No! people, leave your dirty thoughts aside) by women selling coffee/tea at this hour. They trudge all the way uphill to sell coffee /tea to tourists. Give them money for the effort, even more for the tea. A large crowd waiting on the ground and many waiting a level above. All waiting to see a sunrise. From the enclosure(a level above),all you can hear is a crowd singing what seemed like folk songs; you are blinded by the innumerable flashes clicked. Reaching early helped us get a window for a perfect window for the sunrise. But, still I was sure of this exercise being a dull, waste of time created to fool tourists. And, I was wrong as usual. It was indeed stunning! What was more surprising was the crowd ... ocean of people and the cabs parked along the road for KMs ... People were shouting and laughing, smoking and shivering, just to watch golden Mt. K at sunrise. On your right, the sun slowly appears above the horizon. The golden rays slyly sneaking out. The darkness was giving way to many shades of orange. Though unwillingly, the blue sky was accepting the unwelcome golden rays. Within minutes, a glow appears on a mountain range on your left. The Sun beaming in glory on your right, mercilessly outshone by the sheen of the Kanchenjunga on your left. The Kanchenjunga that appeared drab in those black and white pictures in my school Geography text book, was vivid and resplendent here, enjoying every moment of the attention she got. Unfazed by the clouds’ attempts to mask her brilliance, this white beauty’s radiant smile left us in love with her. I was lucky enough to see how it dominates Darjeeling’s horizon as then it disappeared into swirls of mist and cloud for the next six days that I was in Darjeeling and Sikkim. I never saw it again. Apparently, the mountain people say that the mountain chooses who it reveals itself to, so I feel blessed to have seen it at all.
We then decided to check out The Darjeeling Himalayan Railway, nicknamed the “Toy Train”. The Darjeeling station and the toy train itself is a work of beauty. Built by the British, it has retained its old world feel and one is transported to the bygone era standing at the station and looking at the steam spewing engines with their quaint coaches. Soon, it was time for our joyride, we took our seats inside the trains, clicked a lot of pics and not only us , all the co-passengers, young & old had turned into children in that train; all the passengers were getting in and out of the train, clicking pics from different angles. When the train started to move, it was such a funny experience, as it was moving at a maximum speed of 10 km per hour!! But it was interesting too, at certain places, the houses and shops were so near to the rail track that I felt that could reach out my hand and grab the stuff displayed on the shop!! The train’s whistling and billowing out white smoke at intervals was such a different experience, we felt transported back to the 1800s!! Chugging slowly, we reached The Batasia Loop.
The Batasia Loop, where the Darjeeling trains take a U turn and the Gurkha Memorial is situated on a hillock that promises a panoramic view of the town.
Isn’t it a sacrilege to miss the visit to a tea estate when in Darjeeling? A foggy morning. A gentle breeze, the golden rays of the sun, a whole valley covered with tea plantations. The leaves are just freshening up, trying to clear the mist on them. The intoxicating aroma of a cup of tea takes your senses to a newer high. The taste is heavenly. The whole experience is suddenly a notch above bliss. We walked for about half an hour or more, past the collection of small houses where the tea workers live and out into the tea gardens. At that elevation we could see for miles, and we were completely surrounded by carefully trimmed tea bushes growing in a luxuriant pattern. From a distance, a tea garden looks like a thick deep green carpet. The air was fresh and clean and the atmosphere calm, sunny and very happy indeed.
We had a very quick visit to the Darjeeling zoo as we did not expect much there and plus I had been to many “zoos”. The famous 45 minutes rope-way was in disuse after an accident some years back, we were told. So, now I was more enthusiastic about the ropeway. And thank God, I didn’t miss it. The beauty of the tea plantations, the perfect weather would have got missed, had I cancelled the visit.
During my stay there, I was just disappointed for not able to get good pictures. Be it the erratic rain or the slovenly grey sky, pictures looked dull. But obviously that doesn’t matter at all (“or may be to some extent”) as the journey was an indelible one- the one, which I never wanted to end. I had a busy two-and-half days in Darjeeling, but still had lots of time to relax in my fireplace heated room and on the breath taking terraces of my hotel, to shop for tea, to walk the mall and to drink tea, of course. From Darjeeling, I went to Sikkim … But that’s another entry for another day…
No comments:
Post a Comment