Chapter 13_Guests of Honour

Chapter 13

Guests of Honour

Back in Gangtok, our agent had told us that he had contacts in the military and we could get their help, if need be. Perhaps, he had communicated with them about our arrival and the military had arranged a reception for us? But, bike trips, even long ones like ours, weren’t a big deal these days and why would they want to receive or honour us? Shedaaa….!

Khan, the half-nosed king in the land of no-nosed ones, was the one who communicated with the jawan (in Hindi). He tried to explain that… Nope, the guy wouldn’t even let him say a word. He took the documents from Khan; apparently we didn’t have to get it verified at the check post as we were the guests of the army! The jawan then got on to an army truck and asked us to follow him. Four confused souls followed him obediently.

A valley hamlet on the way to Lachung…

The creature in my head started listing out all sorts of weird possibilities – “they are suspecting us to be terrorists and taking us to their camps for questioning, they have mistaken us for some other officials who are on a similar bike trip”.

“Wait, what!”

Suddenly I remembered that we had seen another gang of bikers, four of them like us, a few kilometers back. They were then chilling at a view point. Perhaps, they were the ones who were supposed to be received by the army! I raced ahead and discussed this possibility with the boys. Khan responded that there wasn’t anything much we could do now. The jawan wouldn’t let Khan utter a word – he had taken ‘courtesy’ to a different level.

The road ascended upwards from the check post. We followed the army truck for about 30 minutes, and reached the top of the mountain. There was an army establishment on the side and the truck went in through the gate. Our vehicles were stopped by a female security guard. Before she could ask us anything, the jawan came running towards us. He explained something to the guard, after which he ushered us in. Khan made another attempt to clarify things. It was then that this jawan realized that he had mistaken us for a group of army men, who were on a similar trip like ours!

My worst fear was that this guy would lose his temper and tear away our permits. However, he seemed to be in a state of delusion. Perhaps, the poor chap had to travel all the way back to the check post to receive the original ‘guests of honour’. He handed over our permits to us. They didn’t have the Chungthang check post’s seal on them, as the procedure had been skipped on the assumption that we were the guests of the army. Would the seal-less permits be an issue later on? We hoped not.

The road started descending now. A few kilometers later, we stopped to absorb the beauty of a mighty waterfall. The water fell from a great height and sprayed itself into minute droplets. It was refreshing to feel them on our face. Thorappan and I were exhilarated and vocalized it in the form of “ente ponne…”, “pwoli” etc. This was the biggest fall I had ever seen in my life. After spending a considerable amount of time imbibing the grandeur, both through our eyes and mobile cameras, we continued to Lachung. Another great fall welcomed us soon; but it wasn’t as grand as the previous one (to our eyes) and we didn’t stop there either. Soon we reached the entrance to Lachung, an arch with the words ‘Welcome to Lachung’ carved on it. After the mandatory photo session, we proceeded further. Another couple of miles ahead, houses started sprouting on either sides and we stopped at the first tea shop.

Mahesh bending backwards to get a full view of the falls…

It was a house cum shop that sold most of the household items and liquor. By now, we were used to seeing liquor bottles displayed in almirahs, which in our part of the world were occupied by ‘Ponds’, ‘Cuticura’, ‘Head & Shoulders’, ‘Neelabringadi Thailam’ and the like. We ordered tea and took out our mobiles to look for OYO rooms. The shopkeeper was a girl of our age, or perhaps a couple of years older. Khan addressed her as ‘deedi’ and the rest of us followed suit. She told us that they had rooms as well, at 800 per room on double occupancy. However, OYO quoted us rooms at cheaper prices, one being very adjacent to this shop. We booked the nearby one and went there after tea. There was no one there, not even a fly. While we were trying the different phone numbers displayed there, a passerby told us that the landlord stayed next door. I went and enquired there. The lord wasn’t around and I was given another number to contact. After some time, 3-4 gentlemen came and told us that they were in charge of the property. They then (mis)informed us that they hadn’t received the booking confirmation on their OYO app. Network issues, apparently. Even their main office in Gangtok couldn’t confirm our booking! However, they were ready to give rooms at INR 800 per head! Once again OYO-fied (the phenomenon of being made a fool by OYO), we went back to the tea shop. We ordered another round of tea and started to look for other rooms on OYO.

‘Welcome to Lachung’

“This is an unfamiliar place for you guys. You shouldn’t trust random people. Be careful while booking rooms”, said deedi in a tone of concern, on hearing about our OYO experience. No OYO ratings account for such kind gestures. We decided that our Sikkim host would be deedi. After a bit of negotiation, deedi agreed to offer us rooms at INR 600 per room. It must have been 6 PM then, one of the most peacefully ended days of our trip.

However, I wasn’t done for the day. I rang up OYO customer service and blasted them for their pathetic service. The wounds from Kolkata hadn’t healed yet. The poor lady on the other end patiently listened to my ranting, and apologized for the inconveniences. We had to climb a flight of steps to reach our room, which was in another building behind the main one. Half way up the stairs, I had to stop to grab some air – both because of fury and altitude.

It started to rain and we quickly unloaded our luggage from the bikes and settled down in our rooms. Thorappan went for a couple of Tuborgs and I gave him company with a Breezer. It did help chillax a bit. Khan burst one and Mahesh sat a silent spectator to all this. We did our day’s avalokanam.

One of the cute little fur balls…

The place had a small restaurant as well, mainly catering to the guests staying there. We were the only guests that day. As we finished our avalokanam, we were asked to go down for dinner. The restaurant was a cozy place, with dim lighting, cushioned low seating and pictures of the flora and fauna of the mountains displayed all around. Outside were two cute little dogs, who had caught our attention right from when we had entered the place for tea. After spending a few minutes with those adorable fur balls, we settled down for dinner. There was a small window that connected the dining room to the kitchen and through which the cook passed the food to the cheerful guy who served it us.

“Chor idatte chetta?” [Brother, shall I serve rice?]

“Malayalam engane ariyam?! (How do you know Malayalam?!]   

(to be continued…)

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Out of Curiosity...

Bhim Nala Waterfall is located on the Chungthang-Lachung route. It is one of the tallest waterfalls in Sikkim and is also known as 'Amitabh Bachchan Falls' due to its height. Internet sources also give another name to this falls – Bhewma Falls.The other gorgeous waterfall, adjacent to Bachchan, is the one that we stopped at. The name of this waterfall is not clearly mentioned anywhere. Deedi says that it is called ‘Bob Waterfalls’.  

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Bhim Nala Falls

Chapter 12_Ride.Sleep.Repeat

Chapter 12

Ride. Sleep. Repeat.

The next thirty minutes felt like an eternity. The three of us and an ounce of ‘hope’ in a leaking bottle was all we had as we spiraled down the mountain. I was shivering; not sure whether out of cold or anxiety. I could feel the rain water gushing out of my shoes as I shifted gears. The road that we were traversing looks like a spoon of maggi on Google Map; trust me, this is no exaggeration.

Light! Light as a symbol of hope was best experienced that night. In what looked like a small village, there was a tiny house, with an open door, and light coming from within. To our relief, it was a shop. We went in, dripping wet. It was clean little place, which in a matter of a couple of minutes, became dirty; thanks to us. It was a house cum shop. Behind the counter, there was a bed on which a girl of our age sat with a kid of two or three and watched a rhyme on her mobile. A middle-aged woman, perhaps her mother, prepared tea for us, and a man, perhaps her father, served it to us. Seeing a happy family, gives you a sort of warmth; this family as well as the tea did give us that.

Moments before the Zuluk nightmare…

We got to know that Gangtok was another 80 kilometers from there – there being ‘Padamchen’. We enquired whether there would be any lodging options in Padamchen, and to our surprise there was one right behind this house. However, it was quite likely that the owner of that place would have slept already. We had to take our chances, given that we had very little choice. And this was very evident when Khan remarked, “every day has been a run for our lives, are we even on a leisure trip!”

There was no light in most of the houses. It was only 8 PM then; Sikkim went to bed early and woke up early. “Coming…,” her voice came from upstairs. She was the manager of the guest house - ‘Lamakhang’. There were plenty of rooms and none of them were occupied. The rooms were small, but tidy. There were two beds and plenty of blankets. “800 per head”, she said. After about five minutes of negotiation, we brought it down to 550 per head, inclusive of dinner. The verandah was lined with our gears and clothes, each one dripping wet. Fortunately, water had not gone inside our bags, which were secured with rain covers. We got into warm clothes and huddled on the bed, as we waited for dinner.

If you remember, we had one more guy in this trip, our Mahesham, whom we had left in a hotel in Gangtok at the beginning of the last chapter. The last we heard from him was when we had contacted him some time in the noon. None of our mobiles could connect to network in Padamchen. As we did our avalokanam of the day, we hoped that he was fine.

There were plenty of rotis, sabji and an omlette each to fill our stomachs. After dinner, we made ourselves comfortable under the blankets. What a day it had been! But for the last one hour, East Sikkim had given us a feast indeed! As I tried to rewind the day once again in my head, slumber took charge.

We woke up at around 4:30 AM and left Padamchen by 5:15. The sun was up already and we had a long day ahead of us. We had to ride to Gangtok, which was around 80 kms from Padamchen, get our permits for Lachung, pick up Mahesh and ride to Lachung, another 100 or so kilometers from Gangtok. Needless to say, every kilometer on the mountain roads equals many more on the highways, in terms of the time required to cover the distance. The winding roads continued for many more kilometers from Padamchen. Some of the sharp curves overlooking valleys deep down proved that our decision to halt at Padamchen was indeed a wise one. The roads weren’t bad, but there were rough patches and water crossings (small streams crossing the road) once in a while. 

Water crossing…

Soon the Rangpo river joined alongside us. It played a game of hide and seek with us, appearing here and disappearing there. At one point, it beckoned us with a side road descending towards it. We paused, deliberated and decided to accept the invitation. There was no proper road as such. The last 10 meters leading to the river was too risky and I hesitated initially. However, on seeing Thorappan and Khan doing it effortlessly, I couldn’t resist myself. We were on the river bank, with our bikes, and it was such a sight to see the river gurgling past us. We had a photoshoot there. I dipped my hands in the river, the water was ice-cold. I washed my face and it felt so ‘I-don’t-know-how-to-describe-it’. I collected a few pebbles from the river bank as souvenir. Getting back to the main road was yet another adventure.

The Rangpo River

The route was a very scenic one, passing through small villages and with greenery all around. We stopped for tea in a small town. The next big town was Rangpo, the entrance to Sikkim on the Siliguri-Gangtok route. We were back on the highway, which we had taken from Siliguri to Gangtok. We covered the remaining 40 kilometers in a flash and reached Gangtok at around 9:30 AM. We collected our passes for Lachung from the agent and went to the hotel.

On the banks of Rangpo…

Mahesh had had a peaceful day on bed, with a room heater adding to his comfort. He had spent the whole day (yesterday) in bed, with even food being provided in the room. He was in a mood to spent the rest of the Sikkim days on bed as well. However, we persuaded him to join us to Lachung. We wanted him to enjoy the mountain route along with us. We suggested that he could take rest in Lachung and skip the Lachung outing, depending on the weather conditions, and most importantly his health condition there. After some back and forth, he agreed to join us. Thorappan almost lost his cool, as time ticked away. We had to leave Gangtok latest by 11:30 AM. The 100 odd kilometers would require a minimum of 4 hours on road.

After filling our tanks, we left Gangtok at around 11:30 AM. There were two route options, the shorter one being suggested by Google Ammachi. We took a chance again. Fortunately, she favoured us this one time. The route was indeed a shorter one and a scenic one. The first ten kilometers had a well-tarred road carving itself through dense green. Though the road was narrow, there was not much traffic, apart from the jeeps ferrying from town to town. Thorappan planted the Gopro (camera) at the tail end of his bike to capture wide angle views of the rest of us on road.

A Gopro click from Thorappan’s tail…

The narrow road later joined another one and the ride became adventurous from there on. We had quite a few off roads and water crossings to negotiate. It felt good to move ahead as a pack. We had lunch at a hotel in a valley town. The three of us had thukpa (spicy and soupy noodles), while Thorappan had momos the size of orange.

Thukpa and momos for breakfast…

We got into a casual conversation with a random guy at the hotel, who too had done quite a few rides, including one to Nepal. He then told us that Gurudongmar Lake would definitely be a life-time experience and it was sad that we would be missing it. Yes, Gurudongmar Lake, at an altitude of 18,000 feet, is definitely a must-visit spot in Sikkim and it had been there on our itinerary as well. However, the road to the lake had been closed due to harsh weather conditions. The guy gave us a bit of hope when he said that bikers may get a special consideration. We had to enquire at the police station in Mangan, which was the next town on our way.

As we left the hotel, a girl in the neighborhood came up to us to enquire about the Dominar. Mahesh had his typical ‘attitude’ on his face and we had a good time pulling his leg. We crossed Mangan in a while. There were two things that we could have done in Mangan – fill up petrol and enquire about Gurudongmar. We didn’t do either of them, for no particular reason. The petrol bunk in Mangan was the last one on this route. We had 60 kilometers more to Lachung and another 70 kilometers of offroading there the next day. It would then take us another 60 kilometers to get back to Mangan to refuel again. Therefore, it would have been a safe (and wise) decision, had we filled our tanks there then. However, having filled our tanks to the brim and stocking some fuel in Thorappan’s jerry cans in Gangtok, we didn’t bother to do so. (You will have to wait till chapter 14 to know whether this ignorance cost us anything.)

Mountain roads…

We rode through the newly constructed Theng tunnel and reached Chungthang Hydroelectric power plant. The huge dam on the Teesta river was a sight to behold. We had tea at a small roadside shop there. There were a dozen tourists there at that time. We enquired about the route ahead, to another gang of riders who were returning from Lachung. Apparently there wasn’t much to worry about. These riders had initially rented a cab to explore Sikkim, but soon realized that motorcycles were a more adventurous option. Thus there then.

Chungthang Hydroelectric Plant

We soon reached the Chungthang checkpost. A jawan came to us, smiled, and said that he had been waiting for us. He then told us that a reception had been arranged for us a little ahead.

“Reception? For us?!”

(to be continued…)

Chapter 11_A Zuluk Nightmare

Chapter 11

A Zuluk Nightmare

It was a moment of mixed feelings. We were thrilled that we had finally reached Nathu La; at the same time, it was disappointing to know that we wouldn’t be able to explore the place. Before the disappointment spread across our minds, our number plates caught the attention of some of the jawans there. A couple of them then enquired about our trip. They then discussed among themselves and decided that we could have a quick tour of Nathu La. And not just that, we were given a special privilege as well!

For a normal tourist, the rest of the way to the border (between India and China) was to be covered by foot, climbing up a pretty long staircase. We being the only people there at that time, were granted the privilege to ride right up to the border. Yes, 20-30 meters from where we later parked our bikes, it was Chinese land. An officer accompanied us as well; he sat pillion with Khan and came to the border. There were two gates at the border – one Indian and the other Chinese (obviously). There’s a small gap of about 2 feet between the two gates, which I assume is ‘no man’s land’. Armed officers stood guard on both sides. We were warned not to capture any photos or videos there. Apparently, if we dared click any photographs there, our phones would be confiscated at a check post downhill.

Selfie at Nathu La (the only point where photography is allowed) …

There were two grand buildings, one each on both sides. The officer who accompanied us took us to the Indian building. It had a small museum and a conference room where officials of both the countries would meet. The room was kept so ready that one could imagine Mr. Modi and Mr. Jinping walking in and having a meeting right away. Outside the building, our national flag fluttered in the breeze. On the other side, the Chinese national flag too fluttered in the same breeze. Chinese security men were running around in a playful mood and I wondered whether they were playing hide and seek. There didn’t seem to be much of a tension at this border, unlike the experience I had in Wagah border during the Punjab trip. The best memory from Nathu La is that of an Indian soldier clicking photographs for Chinese soldiers who were posing in a cheerful manner.

A couple of army men engaged in conversations with us and they were curious to know about our trip. One of them, who was from Bihar, suggested we plan a trip to Bihar some time later. We clicked a few pictures at the ‘Nathu La’ milestone. It was freezing cold by then. Khan’s vehicle measured the temperature of its engine to be 8 degrees, which meant that the actual temperature around us was 4 degrees or less than that. The soldiers advised that we leave immediately or our bodies may not be able to stand the weather. We left the place with hearts full of respect and gratitude for the army men – both for giving us a special consideration and for doing their duty in such harsh weather conditions.

The army personnel at the check post told us that we had around 30 kilometers to Zuluk. We had to reach there before sunset, for 1, the route had to be enjoyed in daylight; 2, it was risky to ride this route after sunset. A few kilometers from Nathu La, we stopped to admire the beauty of Sarathang Lake. It was getting misty and visibility was very low. Soon the sun started to pack its bag. We hurried towards Zuluk. We didn’t stop at Baba Harbhajan Singh Temple or Nathang Valley on the way. In fact, I hadn’t recognized the valley as Nathang or even the place as a valley. It was in a later conversation that I got to know that that beautiful place was the much heard of Nathang valley.

Thorappan clicking a photo of ours with Sarathang Lake in the background… 

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Out of Curiosity...

‘Baba Harbhajan Singh Mandir’ has been built in honour of Captain ‘Baba’ Harbhajan Singh, who was a soldier in the Indian army. Also known as the ‘Hero of Nathu La’, he was accorded the status of saint by believers, who refer to him as ‘baba’. It is believed that his spirit protects the soldiers serving in the rough terrains of the Eastern Himalayas.
According to legend, Singh drowned in a glacier while leading a column of mules carrying supplies to a remote outpost. His remains were found after a three-day search. His body was subsequently cremated with full military honors. The legend further claims that the late Singh helped the search party find his body. Some Indian soldiers believe that in the event of a war between  India and China, Baba would warn the Indian soldiers of an impending attack at least three days in advance. During flag meetings between the two nations at Nathu La, the Chinese set a chair aside to honour him. (Reference: Wikipedia)

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At one point, we got a wonderful sight of the zig-zag road winding down the mountain. We were on the Old Silk Route. Thorappan was capturing the scenes on his phone when it slipped from his hands, bounced on the road and almost fell off the cliff. Defying the laws of gravity, it rested itself on a couple of blades of grass overlooking the valley; in other words, it was almost hanging in the air. A small disturbance, and Thorppan’s ‘One Plus’ would be a memory. A surgical strike was planned. Khan lay flat on the road while Thorappan held on to his legs. Khan then stretched his arms and carefully got hold of the phone. All this happened while I was attending to nature’s call!

The zig-zag roads of the ‘Old Silk Route’…

There were hardly any vehicles or people on the road – other than the army vehicles and their camps. Each camp belonged to a different division –  like the Black Cats, the Eagles and so on. After about 20 kilometers from Nathu La, we got to know that we had another 25 kilometers more to Zuluk. It wasn’t that good a news, there was hardly any daylight and it had started drizzling as well.

Misty roads…

Jawans at a check post enquiring about our trip…

Many a times we lost Thorappan far behind and Khan and I would wait for him to catch up with us. He was taking it slow, both to enjoy the scenic route as well as to avoid a bumpy ride on the mountain roads. While descending the zig-zag roads, all three of us would be at different levels of the mountain and it was a sight to behold from the top as well as the bottom levels.

A breathtaking view on the way to Zuluk…

After what felt like a long ride, we reached the town of Zuluk. It was a dimly lit place and we passed by a few houses for a couple of hundred meters and then there were no more of them. Of course, Zuluk couldn’t be so small a town and we kept going ahead in the hope of seeing more houses and homestays. However, we were mistaken; this we realized only after covering another one or two kilometers. We had crossed Zuluk and we had no idea where we were now. It was pouring down heavily. There was no GPS signal; we had no clue where or how far the next town was. The road went winding down, endlessly. It was pitch-black and the only light was from our vehicles. From the little that we could see, it was thick forest on either side of the road. Perhaps, we should have turned back on realizing that we had crossed Zuluk. We had crossed the limit; this wasn’t adventure anymore. One of the scariest moments ever in my life, I had a panic attack!

(to be continued…)

Chapter 10_Sikkim (F)east

Chapter 10

Sikkim (F)east

We woke up to a breaking news from Mahesh: “I don’t think I can go up any further. You guys carry on…” Thorappan and Khan were startled. It was not much of a surprise for me though. Mahesh’s body weakens with every falling degree of temperature. Back in 2015, during our Punjab trip, we (Mahesh and I) had to drop our Shimla plan in a similar situation. Why then did we plan Sikkim, if we knew this before? Well, more than the destination, it was the ride that mattered to us. Besides, we hoped for a little surprise from our Mahesham, who was known for it.

We didn’t compel him much, one – he was weak, two – he is an adamant fellow. We made an amendment to our already reworked itinerary. We extended the booking at the Gangtok hotel for another day, but just one room instead of two. We neatly arranged our stuff and Mahesham in this room. We were to ride to Nathu La, visiting Tsongmo Lake on the way, roll down the old Silk Route and halt at Zuluk for the day. The next day we would be back in Gangtok again. Therefore, we just packed the items that were necessary for the day and left the rest of our things in the hotel itself. We left the hotel at around 7:15 AM. Mahesh came down to the parking to see us off; jokes apart, we felt handicapped riding without him.

The view from the Gangtok hotel…

Thorappan left a couple of minutes ahead of Khan and me. He had to meet Mr. John and get the permits for the day. Since we had altered our plan after our roller-coaster ride in Kolkata, the permits had to be changed accordingly. Khan and I filled up fuel and waited for Thorappan. Khan then suggested that we ride downhill and click a few photos at a waterfall we had seen yesterday on our way to the hotel. It was just a kilometer away from where we were. Besides, Thorappan would anyways be coming back that way as well. On reaching the first waterfall, we realized that the one that we had in mind was a little ahead of this one. So we rode further down and reached the next one. It wasn’t this one either; we rode further ahead and reached the third waterfall. I would have dropped the idea altogether if it wasn’t this one either; but yes, this was the waterfall that we had in mind. You should also infer from this that Sikkim is a land of waterfalls. As we clicked a few photos, Thorappan joined us, and then we clicked a lot more of them. Thorappan too filled his tank; he stocked a few liters in his jerry cans as well.

A click at the third waterfall…

It was drizzling and the weather forecast wasn’t much promising either. But we had quite equipped ourselves for the rains – covered completely from head to toe. Mahesham’s sick leave meant that I got an extra set of rain coats and shoe covers, which proved really helpful. After a few kilometers, we reached the first check post – the third mile check post. There was a long line of white coloured cars (taxis) waiting for the ‘check’ at the post. We exercised our ‘privilege’ (the one that bikers get in any traffic jam) and made our way to the head of the line, where a few other bikers too were getting their documents verified. One of them, a YouTube vlogger, was in the third month of his cross-country (India-Bhutan) tour.

Third Mile Check Post

After the verification, we resumed the ride. We bought chocolates from one of the vendors at the check post. Perks worth Rs. 10 were sold to us for Rs. 20. Given the weather conditions, we didn’t complain either. A few kilometers from the check post, we stopped for breakfast. It was a small shop on the roadside, in a little village. The place was green all around and little houses sprouted out here and there. It was such a satisfying sight for the eyes. 

Inside the shop, we witnessed a Hollywoodish scene. A man, perhaps in his sixties was enjoying a bottle of beer with his friend. He wore a shirt, tucked into a pair of trousers, and had a hat on his head. He reminded me of ‘cowboy’ characters from some of the English movies. They didn’t talk anything. They just sat simply and took joyful sips from their beer mugs. Thorappan couldn’t but envy the presumed ‘bliss’ of those men.

We ordered tea and maggi. The shop was managed by a middle-aged couple. Besides food, they sold a few other stuff such as jackets, monkey caps, gloves, sweets, snacks, cigarettes and liquor. Liquor bottles were neatly arranged in a glass shelf, like how shampoos and other cosmetics are displayed in departmental stores. At the door, there lay a dog with a lot of fur; some visitors fed it with Parle-G.

Liquor on display at the shop…

Maggi never ever tasted so good in our lives. It was soupy and spicy. Cold rainy mornings were perhaps the best time to slurp hot maggi. We bought a few more perks from the shop. We weren’t charged extra though. Now this was a problem. The creature in my head started chattering: why did the lady at the check post charge extra then? For a moment my external self wished that we were charged extra here as well!

After a fulfilling breakfast, we continued our journey. Green lorries of the army would pass by every now and then. There were army camps every few kilometers. The roads, managed by the ‘Border Roads Organization’, were mostly in good condition. Yet, we had to be very careful. Rain and mist made visibility very low. There were landslide debris and water crossings once in a while. We progressed slowly, as a pack. Soon we got to see the Himalayas at close proximity. We stopped to enjoy the beauty. The mountains were enormous. I sat and tried to fit some of them into a single frame of my vision. Sitting in front of them, I felt myself to be a tiny little dot. It was a glorious sight and an even greater feeling.

Road filled with debris and sludge…

Imbibing the beauty of the Himalayas…

After about an hour and a half, we reached Tsongmo lake. Most of the taxis from Third Mile were already there and the place was abuzz with tourists and vendors. It was a small glacial lake, with huge mountains in the background. The water had a peculiar green colour and it was a serene place. It all depended on the mood of the air, whether you could enjoy the beauty of the lake or not. For, all of a sudden, a curtain of mist would be drawn across the lake and then we would have to wait patiently for the curtains to be drawn, to see it again. Yak safaris were on offer along the lake. Oh, that was the first time I was seeing a yak in my life.

A panoramic view of Tsongmo Lake

Thorappan positioned his mobile on a small cliff, with the timer on, and ran back to us to click selfies with Tsongmo in the background. There was a restaurant and cable car safari near the lake. We had to climb up a few steps to reach the restaurant and the ticket counter for the cable car ride. I struggled to breathe as I ascended the steps; my body wasn’t quite adjusting to the altitude. Thorappan and Khan were okay though. We rolled the prayer wheels on the sides, as we climbed up the steps.

One of Thorappan’s adventurous clicks from Tsongmo…

The prayer wheels at Tsongmo…

The rope car, the highest in Asia, took us to a height of 14,500 feet. It dropped us there and we were free to roam around for as long as we wanted, before we took another car downhill. The sight from the top was majestic, with huge mountains spreading out in front of us. One of them was supposedly the mighty Kanchenjunga, though we couldn’t identify it. Thorappan and Khan ventured higher up and soon disappeared. I decided to stay back as I struggled to breathe after taking every few steps. I sat down and imbibed the beauty around me. The vegetation was very colourful – green, yellow, red and so on. I soon got high on nature!

Colourful vegetation

Thorappan and Khan came back to tell me how they had got a terrific view of the lake from the top. They clicked a few good pictures as well. We took the car back down. A fellow rider, an army officer on vacation, tried to capture much of the ride on his mobile; all that got recorded on his camera was the mist though.

When Khan and Thorappan explored the heights…

After the cable car adventure, we went to the restaurant for an early lunch. We weren’t quite sure whether the rest of the ride had food options enroute. Like at the breakfast place, there was a friendly canine here as well. We had hot maggi and tea at the restaurant. The price got higher with every passing spot.

After our quick lunch, we headed towards Nathu La. Most of the taxis had disappeared by the time we left Tsongmo. I sensed that we were getting late. It was just another 18 kilometers to Nathu La, but it would take us around 70 minutes to get there. That’s the thing about mountain roads; at times you even feel disappointed to realize that you hadn’t covered much distance in so long a time. Waterfalls, water crossings, debris, sludge, wooden bridges, army camps, greenery and the Himalayas made the rest of ride to Nathu La quite adventurous. 

Crossing a wooden bridge…

At around 2:30, we reached a point from where we had to make a small deviation towards Nathu La. Our permits were verified there and we were given the green signal to go ahead. It was a two kilometer steep and winding climb upwards and at the end of it, there we were – at Nathu La. It was freezing cold up there. There was a small army camp there. A few soldiers were picking up litter, probably left by the tourists. We couldn’t see any civilians there. The soldiers then informed us that the place was closed for the day and we would have to come back the next day!

(to be continued…)