The driver looks amused as we, a group of four, seem tempted to stop at every turn of the mountainous landscape of Himachal Pradesh. However, enjoying the adrenaline rush offered by NH 22 — with its package of snow-capped cliffs, hairpin bends, deep gorges and rocks that seem to hang precariously overhead — there’s no reason not to stop wherever the width of the road permits us.
Having taken the night bus from Delhi to the blue-chip hill station of Shimla, we soon find ourselves in Thanedar, the ‘Apple bowl’ of Kinnaur. With the crisp morning air acting as a perfect balm to our city-frayed nerves, we sit savouring a refreshing glass of apple juice when our host regales us with tales of how the Red Delicious variety of apples became the mainstay of Thanedar. It all began when Samuel Evans Stokes, a wealthy young American, came to India in 1904 to work in a leper colony and, a few years later, not just married an Indian girl but also converted to Hinduism, now calling himself Satyanand Stokes.
Tales abound about how Satyanand never missed anything from his old life except for apples that grew in his hometown Philadelphia. So one day, his mother sent him a few saplings with the hope that they would grow in his new home. They did. And once the apples started bearing fruit, Stokes handed their seeds to local farmers, and the rest, as they say, is history.
The next morning, after a stopover at Sarahan’s stunning 800-year-old Bhimkali Temple, we’re at Sangla, another area famous for its apples, this time of the Kinnauri variety. Also called a trekkers’ paradise, Sangla prides itself at attracting, as a local says, only a select lot of tourists — ones who are responsible and environmentally conscious. Close by lies Basteri, a village that was once famous for its tradition of polyandry. So, like Draupadi of Mahabharata, one girl could be married off to all the sons of a family. However, that tradition has long been discontinued — in fact, polyandry is illegal now.
When at Sangla, a must-visit is the charming Chitkul village that boasts of — as a recent study states — cleanest air levels in the country. Just 50km short of Tibet, it’s also the last Indian village here. At the Nagasthi border outpost till where civilians are allowed, a young soldier stands enjoying the warm sunshine for “soon, the temperatures will dip down to less than minus 37,” he tells us.
Stopping at a town that boasts a lovely name — Reckong Peo — to procure passes for our friends from abroad, we’re soon heading towards the higher altitudes. A clear day would have shown us the Kinner-Kailash Massif but we have to be content with just artistically shaped clouds covering what’s believed to be Lord Shiva’s abode in Himachal. We make it in good time to Nako that packs in an exciting slice of our stay — night in zipped tents to keep the mountain cold out. But before that, as we sit chatting with fellow mountain enthusiasts, everyone seems particularly happy at the dip in signal bars on their phones. “Yes, it’s good, therapeutic rather, to be disconnected for a bit,” says one as others nod in agreement.
Elderly women enjoying the morning sun wave merrily as we start our journey towards Spiti. With River Baspa as our constant companion, we visit the 1,000-year-old Tabo Gompa and Dhankar monastery that stands proudly against the backdrop of rugged, conical-shaped cliffs to reach Spiti’s piece de resistance — Langza — believed to be the world’s highest village at 14,300 feet connected by a motorable road.
Flanked by the charmingly named peak, Cho Cho Kang Nilda, white-and-red painted mud houses decorated with prayer flags seem to spread their arms in welcome. Post a traditional meal at our homestay, we visit the golden-hued Buddha statue seated near a 500-year-old Buddhist temple. A fossil park boasts of the remains of creatures that once lived in the prehistoric Tethys Sea that covered this area before the mighty Himalayas rose up to kiss the skies.
Besides Komic with its ancient monastery and the ‘world’s highest restaurant,’ the neighbourhood also boasts of Hikkim offering the world’s only post office at such a high altitude. A small, unassuming structure sees visitors from across the world get excited about “visiting the world’s highest post office. No wonder, they post cards not just to their friends but also to their own selves,” smiles the man in charge.
On our way to Kaza, headquarters of the Lahaul-Spiti district, we stop at Kee Monastery that from a distance appears like a set of boxes stacked one on top of the other. Going back to the 11th century, this large monastery belonging to the Gelukpa School houses over 350 monks. As I stand admiring its imposing facade, Lama Tenzing Ritzin drives up in a tractor. “Besides doing regular work, study and meditation, we also run different errands like what I’m doing — helping with the construction work,” says the 39-year-old who joined the monastery as a little boy.
Moving towards the last leg of our journey, we brace ourselves for a long drive crossing, not just two high mountain passes — Kunzum at 15,100 ft and Rohtang at 13,050 ft — but also the Chandertal Lake with roads often turning rocky and rough, even nightmarish. Loved by mountaineers, the crescent-shaped Chandertal that remains frozen for most months of the year is believed to be the place from where the eldest Pandava brother, Yudhishthira, commenced his journey towards heaven. Our homestead in Kullu’s land of golden-hued wheat lets us relax while tempting us with options of serene trails through picturesque deodar forests.
Letting my companions take off for a trek towards Jana, an old village and to enjoy the artworks at the Roerich Art Gallery, I prefer reclining on a hammock to enjoy the sights and sounds of the awe-inspiring Dhauladhar peaks and the River Beas while reliving my tryst with the Land of the Gods.