Ganeshpuram- silence in soliloqy

Kodai Express ground to halt at the sleepy station Kodai Road early in the morning at around 4.30. The only Tempo Traveller in the parking lot meant to be our mode of transport hereafter, was easy to loacte and we bundled ourselves into it without much struggle. Having chatted away late into the night, we were finding it difficult to break free from the shackles of slumber. A cuppa was a desideratum. The outstanding feature of Tamil Nadu is that it wakes up quite early. By the time we reached the tea shop at Bathalakundu, there was a sizable crowd sipping the invigorating drink. After a cup of steaming hot tea, moods brightened up and the entourage was ready to take the winding road up the Palani hills.

 Our destination was Ganeshpuram, a sleepy little hamlet off the village Pethuparai. It is located 76 kms from Kodai Road and 18kms to Kodaikanal. Compared to 2133 meters elevation of Kodaikanal, Ganeshpuram was only 1034 meters above mean sea level. Thus, climate was just salubrious enough for comfort and not biting cold as Kodai in this December month. Our choice of places to rest and recuperate is usually far from the maddening crowd and would invariably avoid tourist places. The present place was identified by my friend D.Srinivas a year ago. Except for a small hamlet of around 200 residents there was no habitation in the vicinity and this was the lure of the place-Zac Valley Resorts.

 It was breakfast time by the time we landed up at the resort. Post a brief debate, whether bath should precede breakfast or the other way round, it was decided that we will go ahead with a simple breakfast of sandwich and tea. As it was a stag only gang, we took just two cottages for the 8 of us. Thus began our lazy holiday at the resort. It was two o’ clock in the afternoon by the time all of us finished our bath and then joined in the restaurant for lunch. It would be pertinent to admit here that food wasn’t great. But in the beautiful weather simple chicken curry, veg stew and rice appeared delicious. Post lunch, we had plans of a rummy session which was quickly abandoned as most of us were sleep deprived. With more than a stomach fill, most of us enjoyed the afternoon siesta.

 The sun was casting its long shadows when we woke up. With tea and biscuits in hand, we decided to explore the property. The rooms/cottages are on either side of a steep gradient on a hill. Up the path, there were plantations. Lumbering up, our friends who had visited this place last year narrated their experience of having sighted an Indian Gaur (bison) among the plantations. We decided to try our luck and trekked up. As we turned the corner, there stood the Gaur right inside the property! Initially it appeared harmless and regurgitating the afternoon meal. But within a second, it changed its disposition and the vapour emanated by the loud snort was clearly visible. I was taking position to click a picture to find that all my friends had scouted in a tick.

 

Hearts beating fast we ran down the slope and entered our cottage. The gaur advanced for a meter or two and stood its ground appearing to be domineering and challenging anyone who would dare to tread into his terrain. With a hearty laugh of having escaped being catapulted and trampled by a two tonner, we dumped the idea of seeing the plantation and decided instead to take a stroll down the village road. There was nothing much on the offer except for a few small cottage industries manufacturing lemon grass oil. Winding up the lazy walk, we trudged our way back by dusk all geared up for the bonfire.

 With the sun dipping into the horizon, there was a nip in the air and sweaters became a necessity. The bonfire having lit and as the group warmed up with a couple of shots of Bacardy, the mood enlivened. Nassar assumed the role of the master of the ceremony for the evening and beguiled the audience with his immortal Malayalam song “ethoru thondaravu, ethoru thondaravu.. ammayimmde” extolling the virtues of mother-in-law . Spirit of the evening was fed and fuelled with spirits and what started off as foot tapping soon progressed into a wild dance-wild because none of us knew how to dance. It was a moonless night and with the power failing for an hour or so we were enveloped in absolute darkness with only the embers from the flame to illuminate the immediate periphery. The thought of the bison lurking behind came to me and I often scoured the area, though very little was visible. Our friend Jagan asked me what I was looking around. Initially I resisted the answer but on repeated queries, I told him that I was scanning the area for the bison. The very mention of the word bison was enough for our friend who within a split second leapt and reached the veranda of the cottage. It took a lot of persuasion from all of us to bring him out and he was offered a seat farthest from the pathway and sandwiched by two others.

 As night progressed, the frenzy slackened a bit and we decided to sit back and relax to enjoy the quietude. A million stars were visible in the sky and a gentle cold breeze blowing, the stage was all set for some blue numbers from our friends. Sinhaji rendered few evergreen numbers of Talat Mahmood. The tranquillity of the environs interspersed with the loud chirping of the crickets was empyrean. As city dwellers we had long forgotten the twinkling stars. Did we hear a jackal howling? Jagan was up on his feet again. Despite the overpowering lure to sit and enjoy the serenity nonchalantly, the chef summoned us for dinner and we had to dust off and walked to the dining area. After a quick bite we returned indoors for couple of games of rummy before resigning to bed at around 1 am. The waterfall trek beckoned us the next day and we had to get up early.  

 Gearing up for the morning trek, we were to be led by two experienced guides. As we were to leave early, it was decided that breakfast would be made available in the course of our trek. Coursing the path of a small stream we moved ahead with narrow misses in the slippery path. Within half an hour we reached the head of the waterfall which was our first pit-stop. We watched in sheer child-like joy as numerous small streams converged and moved towards the waterfall. Crystal clear cold water in the small puddles among the rocks were enticing. We sat there enjoyed the scene for over an hour before moving on.

 

From the waterfall came our first tryst with climb. A rock face at around 75 degree with no hold had to be climbed to continue the trek. In retrospect, I find that this was a very precarious adventure. Any slip and you would tumble down several hundred feet down to the bottom of the waterfall! The mere sight of the rock face was exacting. The guides scrambled up effortlessly. I made the first attempt from the team and was largely successful and could reach the summit without much of a hassle. Such attempts call for a disciplined body and stamina in ample measure. With increasing girth of their middle, some of our members were struggling within the first few steps itself. Soon they could be seen in all their fours, literally crawling up.

 

It took almost an hour to cross this hurdle and then we were on an elevated plain with a vast expanse of the Palani hills below us. I climbed up a solitary watchtower in the open land. The view from the tower was electrifying.

The trek continued then into the wooded area. Initial phase was not very thick but as we progressed, we had to manoeuvre through thick lush green woods with no path. 

Morning rays were fighting hard to penetrate through the thickets. Last night rains on the dry leaves were also posing no less challenges. Sometimes the undergrowth too was entwining between our tired legs.

 

My friend Mishra asked the inevitable question to the guides- Are there any wild animals here? The guide replied nonchalantly- “There are no tigers or elephants here but bears are there in plenty and they come to savour the jack fruits”. 

This was enough for Jagan to grumble, whine and bleat. In less than an hour, we were out of the woods and at the sight of the stream where our hosts were waiting with breakfast the entire team heaved a sigh of relief.  

 

Even though this part of the trek was short in terms of distance, the initial climb and then struggling through the thick woods in trepidation made us really hungry. A quick wash in the cold crystal-clear water rejuvenated us while we settled down for tasty breakfast of upma, peanut chutney, bread and boiled eggs.

 Amidst the ravenous hunger, the food parcels soon vanished. A cup each of hot masala tea poured from the thermos topped it all. Post a small blather about the risky path endured, we were back on our feet.

 

 

 

Following the course of the stream we walked along, with once in a while hopping from one bank to another and in the course landing in water at times. It was no more challenging but a pleasant walk. We reached our resort around 1. Post a bath and lunch, we enjoyed the afternoon siesta and then the evening stroll through the village. A brief drizzle added to the fun in the evening as the temperature came down drastically. Unlike the previous evening, we decided to retire early as the next days trek was a tougher one.

 Day 3 dawned with a chill weather due to the rains last night. With packed breakfast we left the resort at 7 and started our trek to Kodaikanal. We had to ascend 1100 meters climbing up the winding path through plantations, crossing rivulets and streams. Initial kilometre or so was pleasant as the gradient was less. But by the end of another two kilometres the sun came up in all its glory and the incline too became tougher. Most of us were panting but two of our friends were ranting too. Soon, Jagan and Sinhaji decided to drop out. It was proving to be tougher and with a heart condition we did not want to persuade Sinhaji to go further. Jagan with his rotund belly was looking for an opportunity to scoot but was holding back as he could not muster enough courage to walk back alone. Unlike the previous day we were climbing with no tree cover and was at the mercy of the scorching rays hitting unhindered as the sky had cleared up.

 Every hundred meters we sat and quenched our thirst under a rare tree on the path.

 

Occasionally we could see tribals coming down the slope with some random forest produce. After an hour and half we sat down besides a gurgling stream and opened our breakfast packet. Hungry, as we were, idly and chutney were soon gobbled up.

 But there was one problem. Water was rationed. Each of us were given a bottle of water and we had to make do with this and make the entire course of our trek. Sweating profusely, our parched throats were seeking water very often. There were two options-one conserve the water available or refill from the stream. I and Srinivas decided to take the latter approach.

 

We dusted ourselves and sprung up to move ahead. The path ahead proved to be further formidable. Balancing between boulders protruding from the hill face we moved ahead. After an hour of hike, we reached a less exacting area. Walking between fields of carrot and other vegetables, the fragrance of lush green fields provided the much needed impetus to move on.

 

As we had ascended almost a thousand meters, the weather too had mellowed down. Soon we were at Kodaikanal and all famished. Dog tired and hungry we were in mood to ferret around for restaurants and dashed into the first sighted Gujarathi joint for a meal. The meal was sumptuous and appetizing. We had asked our jeep guy to pick us up from Kodai who reached after quite a wait. Back at our cottage, our muscles were craving for rest. Hitting the bed immediately we had a delightful sleep. Post the evening bonfire and dinner, we settled for a game of rummy. We were in no hurry to wake up early in the morning and therefore the game lasted late into the night.

 On the fourth day morning post a late lunch, we bid adieu to this wonderful place fully re-charged.          

Alleppey the land of Happy Waters.

This passion of mine, writing about the places which fascinated me had gone into hibernation for quite some time now. Professional commitments took away all the spare time and the composure required to write. Now, this second wave of pandemic coupled with my own affliction by COVID has offered me this long-waited opportunity. It is not without reason that they say 'every dark cloud has a silver lining'.

 In this small piece I would be writing about the backwaters of Kerala called "Kuttanad'. This place used to be the granary of Kerala accounting for more than 90% of the grain produced in the state. But with dwindling yields, rising cost and unpredictable rains, most farmers have unfortunately abandoned paddy cultivation in this area. It is not an exaggeration to state that most parts of this area are below sea level! The residents of this area have been through one of the worst natural calamities by way of floods few years back. But their resilience in the face of worst of the adversities saw them back on their feet in a jiffy. 

As a child I grew up in this part of Kerala where the small pond in the courtyard was both our swimming pool and bathroom. Surrounded by paddy field which turns into a vast ocean during monsoon our quaint house was heaven for us. Eluding the rebuke of our grandfather, our adventures in snaring a frog from the flood water, the jump-scare of water snakes slithering between our legs, diving into the water from the embankments, attempting to swim across the flooded river et al have remain etched in my memory. It is therefore no surprise that I feel more akin to water than land!

Considering the innate love for this beautiful land, I always allure my friends with stories of the landscapes of Kerala and woo them to visit the place. For me, I grab every opportunity to be the guide.

Back in early part of 2000 when I was leading a small team of 11 Officers, I had made it a point to take my team out for a jaunt every three months so that they get a small window of relief from the deary work schedule. One of these trips was to Alleppey (known as Alappuzha in Malayalam). The near 24 hours boat ride gives the visitors a bird's eye view of the life and times of the people of this part of the state. For those who have only small window of opportunity, this boat ride is ideal. Before I proceed further, I need to educate the uninitiated reader little about these boats.

These house boats are re-worked and re-furbished version of kettuvalloms of yesteryear. Kettu in Malayalam means 'dwelling' as in naalukettu meaning a dwelling with four parts. Vallam means a canoe/boat/barge. So kettuvallam could be loosely translated as a boat with a small dwelling unit. These were made by tying together jack-wood with coir and a lacquer derived by burning cashew kernels added as a binder.  Kerala is known for its many thousands of waterways interconnected naturally. In olden times, these kettuvallams were the only means of transport of bulk cargo like rice and spices to the ports of Alleppey and Kochi. In fact, Allepey was one of the principal ports of south India and was called the Venice of the East. These house boats could carry up to 30 tons of cargo. As the journey from the hinterland to the port would take somewhere between 2 days to 7 days depending on the distance, a portion of the boat was hooded by a bamboo canopy and consisted of a small resting area and a kitchen. As the load was heavy three or four able-bodied men used long bamboo sticks to push the boat forward (I have deliberately not used the word ‘row). The modern houseboats are refurbished versions having an outboard motor fitted to it. These now have air-conditioned well-furnished and well-maintained rooms for added comfort. These have a front sit out in the bow where the tourists could have a 360-degree view of the waterscape or could just sink into the sofa with a book. The rear end of the boat has a kitchen and some boats have a balcony which can accommodate up to a 100 pax. 

We, a group of 8 landed early in the morning at Kochi airport and hired a mini-bus to move towards Alleppey. As per the plan, we intended to have our breakfast on the way before reaching the boat jetty. An early morning rise and the travel had made us all famished and my companions were demanding breakfast no sooner we landed. I appeased them with a chaya (tea) and a kadi (small snack) in front of the Cochin Export Processing Zone with an assurance that the wait till Cherthala is worthwhile so that they could savor genuine Kerala breakfast. The entourage acquiesced to my proposal and we moved after the brief pause for tea. As we left the four-lane highway and moved to the Chertala bye-pass I was on the lookout for a decent joint which I found in two minutes-Huts Restaurant. It was early in the day and the folks were waking up. Probably we were the first customers. Even though they were yet to open, they didn't want to lose the windfall of 8 hungry mouths. Politely they asked to take our seats. I asked them for the breakfast menu and the waiter broke into a soliloquy-puutu-kadala, puttu-motta curry, porota-beef curry, appam-stu...Tired of remembering what was said in the beginning despite so many iterations, I ordered all combinations two plates each. Even though I had an inkling that it may be a little of an overdo, I excepted my crowd to finish it as they were starving. The waiter committed a cardinal blunder by bringing in the items in bits and pieces. By the time he went in to fetch the second plate, the first one was devoured. My folks didn't know the name for most items and they merely said 'repeat'. By the end of the hour, we had 7 plates of all what was available in the place. The only regret was that the beef fry was not ready and would take another half an hour to be on the plate. Our friends ungrudging agreed to wait and taste this dish too.  Over cups of tea, I could sense the air of contentment and acknowledgment it was worth the wait. Finally, the celebrated beef fry arrived and four plates were soon washed down with more cups of chaya and we set off again to the boat jetty at Alleppey. The folks now had a glimpse of the fare in store and were delighted to say the least. 

We resumed our journey towards Alleppey for our rendezvous with the house boat. The agent met us at the pre-arranged location in the town. Alleppey or Alappuzha as it is known in Kerala is an old town with narrow roads with houses and shops jutting out on the road quite often. Interspersed by channels which served as waterways for boats carrying goods from the hinterland to the town and to the port, it is no wonder that this town is called the Venice of the East. The agent boarded our bus and directed the driver to ride on the Alleppey-Changanasserry road. Our boat jetty was near Thakazhi a distance of around 10 kms from the town. As we were negotiating the lanes of Alleppey, our agent asked us the most important question-“Are you guys stocked up? In case you need anything, it has to be procured in the town”. In our department, we never venture out without our own stock of alcoholic beverages so that we don’t end up consuming spurious liquor. He then asked us whether we need anything special for lunch or dinner. Even though I knew that the meals would be sumptuous by any standard, I wanted the folks to savour something different. I understood that karimeen (Pearlspot) would invariably be part of the menu. Hence, I wanted my friends to taste kaari (Stinging Catfish). This fish has elongated compressed body and grey brown to black in colour. Catfish are a distinctive type of fish that have whiskers a long projecting hair or bristle protruding from the area around the mouth. This is one of the most delicious fresh water fish available and is also very rare because catching this fish is very arduous task. As soon as we reached the jetty, our ever-so sprightly agent had tete with the boatmen and scurried off in a bike. As we waited, the boatmen introduced themselves to us and welcomed us aboard. Despite being having a feast of a breakfast, my friends were enticed by the smell of pazham pori (banana fritters) fried in coconut oil emanating from one of the nearby kiosks. By the time we were done with tea and pazham pori our agent arrived with a not so happy face. His frantic search for kaari yielded only two kilograms which was grossly insufficient considering the gluttony group we are. Nonetheless, I was happy that at least the guest would be able to get a bite and savour the delicacy. We boarded the four-bedroom boathouse and started off- ahoy!

As we eased into the blue green backwaters with an easterly wind blowing, humidity of the August month was soon blanked out. With the faint thud of the outboard engine the boat entered the channel with mild waves rocking you before the vistas opened up. Coconut palm fronds swayed to the wind and cast their shadows in the channel as life moved on in this part of the country where water is an integral part of their life. From one channel to the other as we criss-crossed the backwaters of Kuttanad, we were treated to the daily life of the people who reside on the banks of these channels and in many cases, small islands in the middle of nowhere. These backwaters are the lifeblood of the inhabitants here. The richer ones among them have small canoes with which they commute to the mainland. As we have local buses in the town for commuting, water buses operated by Kerala Waterways Authority is the only means of transport. Interestingly shaped like a Kerala State Transport Corporation (KSRTC), these water buses are the only means of travel for people in this area where people hop-on and hop-off. Some distances are as long as 30 kms and takes more than an hour of travel. As we moved on languidly, the waterscape offered us many pleasing sights-men fishing from a canoe no bigger than 5 feet, ladies washing their clothes and utensils in the water, sprightly kids diving and swimming in the waters, a foreigner and his boatman attempting canoeing, small boats selling fruits and vegetables etc each unique and mesmerizing.

It was 1’O clock and boat crew heralded the lunch time by serving us rasam soups. We were soon treated with a lavish Kerala lunch. Besides the matta rice (partly polished par-boiled rice) and the normal fare of Sambar, Moru Curry, Avial, Thoran, Mezhukkuvaratti, Pappadam we were treated with duck raost, karimmen pollichathu, kaari curry, prawn fry. Each of the dish distinct in its flavour with a feisty and lavishly marinated in home grown and home ground spices tickled our palate. It was no-holds-barred hog. Ada Pradhaman to top it all as dessert made the meal complete. Before we could wash our hands, the cool afternoon breeze lulled us to a siesta.

After the brief layover, we were back in action and the boat now furrowed into the vast expanse of Vembanad Kaayal. As we skirted around the island Pathira Manal, we could sight many migratory birds. Our next pit stop was a small island in the lagoon which had a Kallu Shap (as they call it in Malayalam meaning toddy shop). Kallu or toddy is extracted from the coconut flower by tapping. Fresh toddy has a sweet tangy flavour and is not an intoxicant. The toddy which is tapped is fermented for a day or two to make a local beer. The fermentation adds a new twist to the brew and may perhaps contain less than 5% of alcohol content. Nonetheless, it creates a very soothing effect on the body and is a good muscle relaxant and appetizer too. Our friends had a decent pouring of the toddy before they returned to the boat. We were soon approached by another boat selling Tiger Prawns. Even though the boat had a more than decent stock of fish and meat for dinner, our friends were drawn at the size of the prawns and after a brief haranguing bargain we carted 4 kilograms of Tiger Prawns to the boat.

August-September is the period for snake boat races in Kerala and particularly in Kuttanad. There are numerous small and big races and at the crown is the magnific Nehru Trophy Boat Race held at Alleppey. Several teams under various categories, including a women-only category, vie for the coveted trophy. Several months of preparation goes into the just a 5-minute frenzied race. These backwaters turn into practice grounds where the teams sweat it out every day for the grand spectacle. Each snake boat has team of 50 to 100 rowers who through their synchronised movement pushes the boat forward. The sheer sight of precision rowing where 100 hands work in unison is a treat to watch. From a distance, it would appear like a centipede moving. With the intense heat of the afternoon abetting, several teams were practsing and putting their acts together. Though it was incidental that our trip was timed during this period, we were indeed fortunate to watch this spectacle too.

Sunset in the backwaters is special. As the glowing red sun sinks into the waters, and the shadow of the coconut palms grew longer, there was an eerie silence with brief respites in between by bird-calls moving to their far-off nests. The whole atmosphere turns ethereal. Water growing darker lent another shade to the vista. Twilight of dusk often kindles a sense of rumination. Then all of a sudden, there was a hustle of activities in the lagoon. Several fishermen fanned out into the water in their small canoes and were spreading their nets. There is an unwritten code that the houseboats would not move after dusk so that they don’t cut these nests. Our boatmen identified a narrow strip of land with few coconut palms in the middle of the lagoon and laid his anchor. We jumped off the boat to the small island and enjoyed the cool breeze and smell of water hyacinths wafting through the air. Preparations for the evening sit in with the single malt had commenced.

A quick shower and we assembled in the bow with Glenlevit-18 years. The chef cum oarsman kept up the steady supply of goodies in the form of Tiger Prawns, Beef Ulathitahu, Chicken Fry, Green Salad, Sprouts. A small drizzle enlivened the atmosphere. We had a few good hands at singing who perked up the party. The binge eating and jamming went on till past midnight. Despite paucity of space in the stomach for any sort of dinner, tapioca and fish gravy with kanji (rice gruel) was irresistible.

Post a small walk on the grass on the tiny island surrounded by fire flies we hit the bed.

As day dawned, our boat was on our way to the jetty where we would soon join the maddening crowd. Getting down the boat with a mighty hug to our boat crew, we knew that the past 24 hours would be reminisced for a long time to come.

I was accompanied by Sailesh Gupta, Radhakrishnan, Syed Rahman and Sundara Bhaskar

Parambikulam- Nature's Own Abode!!

I had a lingering desire to visit Parambikulam Wildlife Sanctuary for quite some time. So when the opportunity was presented by a colleague of mine, I grabbed it both hands. Though we planned the visit for the last week of May, 2001, which would have been ideal, the tour fructified only in the first week of June. Located in the valley between the Nelliaympathi ranges in Kerala and the Annamalai ranges in Tamil Nadu, Parambikulam Wildlife Sanctuary is an un-flecked abode of nature. Even though Parambikulam is located in Kerala, it cannot be accessed from Kerala. The only entry point to the reserve forest is through Top Slip in Tamil Nadu which is just over an hour’s drive from Pollachi near Coimbatore.

We (myself, Sridhar, Vadivelu, Jayaraman and Alex) left Chennai by around 7 in the morning with the intent to reach Pollachi by 5 and reach the Tamil Nadu forest check post by around six in the evening. Though we did not have too many stops en- route, our lunch break at Salem where we indulged in the succulent biriyani at Selvi Mess took almost an hour. At around five, as we were nearing Pollachi the organizer of our trip who is at Parambikulam informed us that the entry from the TN forest check post closes by 3.30 and as a special case he had requested them to extend the time till 5 pm and as we were over shooting that limit too, we may have to possibly spend the night at Pollachi. This information was a dampener and by the time we reached the check post, calls were put out to all those who could influence the decision of the forest guards so that they allow us entry. Surprisingly, the personnel at the forest check post were more than courteous and allowed us in without even a perfunctory frown. Pleased as we were with the magnanimity of the forest guard, coerced him to accept a couple of beer cans as a mark of our gratitude and eased ourselves up the slope into the virgin forest.

Rain clouds had started rearing its heads from the evening itself. No sooner did we start driving into the young night, it started drizzling creating an eerie atmosphere. Soon, the roads started winding up and pot holes were increasingly becoming regular. Combined with the rain and darkness, the pot holes had become slush pools making driving perilous. I was driving behind the head vehicle as my car had a low ground clearance than the MPV ahead of us. Maintaining a distance of about 15 feet we moved up. Our eyes were transfixed on the slush pools and did not notice our head vehicle making a sudden stop. Though we could not fathom out the reason immediately, we halted a few meters behind and started looking around. It was then that we saw the herd of Gaurs just ahead of us. The herd consisted of two mothers with their infants and could prove to be very menacing. But the massive animals with white socks like feet were a treat to watch in the light of the headlamps. As we waited for the herd to move away, a vehicle approached in the opposite direction which too halted in its way. After a few minutes the vehicle which came in the opposite direction crossed over and emboldened by this move, we too started movingly slowly and cautiously expecting the gaurs to come charging at us. Despite their sardonic looks, they decided against moving either towards us or away from us. Our first tryst with the wild was exhilarating. We laughed to drive away the latent fear. In the next 1 kilometer we had two more sightings and the last sighting was even more dreadful. As I negotiated a hair-pin bend ascend, my friend who was seated in the back seat and peering on to the road and around kept prodding me against slowing down despite large pot holes. Before I could gather my thoughts, a large gaur was standing towering above us on the road side. It was so close that perhaps if the window shutters were down we could hear it breathing. Though we had cameras handy, none dared to click. All the fatigue of driving 500 odd kilometers from the morning petered out after these two rendezvous. In another half an hour we reached Top Slip where we had to register again. Our night’s halt was arranged at a place locally called Karadi (meaning bear in Tamil) Bungalow or Stuarts Rest House. This rest house built in the year 1883 was located deep in the forest some 8 kms from Top Slip.

As we drove to the bungalow, this time accompanied by 4 forest guards fright among us was palpable. But unfortunately there were no more sightings and soon we reached the rest house nestled on a high ground in the core area and bounded by electric fence. There was no electricity and we had to make good with one solar lamp provided by the forest department. It was then that I wondered as to how the electric fence would work and how could we possibly be safe. The forest guard allayed our fears by saying that it works on conserved solar power which we realized in the morning, was only a consolation. Having changed over to our shorts and T’s we sat in the verandah basking in the cold air and darkness all around while the forest personnel cooked our dinner. The darkness was overwhelming and amidst the loud chirping of crickets, we knew that wilderness in just a few feet away. After a sumptuous dinner of chicken and rice we retired to bed.

Though we had planned an early morning trek, venturing out early was deferred due to intermittent rain. But in the brief intervals provided by the rain, we did explore the area around. All around, it was splendid green cover and impenetrable forests. The rains had washed away all the dust from the leaves and in the brief interludes of sun, the tress shone sparkling green. On one side of the rest house was a slope to the valley with a waterfall on the fringes. As I was trying to photograph the raindrops on a lemon tree on the periphery, a wild boar appeared from nowhere. Though we were a little apprehensive initially, as the boar too could have been, soon a strange camaraderie developed between us and we fed him with dosas and he in turn posed merrily for photographs!

After a lavish breakfast of dosas and sambar we set out from the rest house. While leaving the place I felt we haven’t had enough of this place. Had rain not hindered our movements, the place could have been explored more comprehensively. Our next stop was supposed to be the forest check post of Kerala State and we were warned sufficiently in advance that they would not be allowing any plastic items or liquor inside the reserve forest and that they would check the bags and vehicles threadbare. Accordingly, we had packed all that is impermissible in separate bags and left it at Top Slip. It is then that we realized our over dependency on plastics. As cautioned, the forest personnel carried out a meticulous inspection of the first car and the bags therein. Being convinced that we were eco-friendly the check of the second car was only blasé. The pot holed roads soon gave way to well tarred roads which made the drive pleasurable. Even though there was enough opportunity to step on the gas and accelerate, the scenic views at every bend was so captivating that you tend to move haltingly. The unsullied forests with various hues of green interspersed with the vibrant red of the flame of forest, swaying bamboo bushes and the rainbow appearing intermittently were a treat to the body and soul. We lowered the window panes to absorb the cool fragrant mountain air. Clouds descended often making the panorama further ethereal. The elephant dung still warm indicated the presence of pachyderm in the near vicinity. As we halted to see a small reservoir, looking down at the road ahead, we could see a meadow below. There were number of deer, peacocks, sambhars, monkeys, langurs all basking in the sun after a spell of rain. Soon we wound our way down and the meadow presented a picturesque spectacle. The peacock was fanning out its feathers and its prunes. The pea-hen appeared indifferent to the advances of the several males vying to grab her attention. It’s a woman’s world, no doubt. All the animals with their respective off-springs were lounging around completely oblivious of the others. The young ones were jumping gay abandon. The elder were keeping a close watch on these young ones. The leaping young deer appeared so engrossed in his game that he was totally unmindful of even humans getting down the cars and photographing it. Overwhelmed would be an understatement. I was reminded of a poem by John Keats.

O SOLITUDE! If I must with thee dwell,
Let it not be among the jumbled heap
Of murky buildings; climb with me the steep,—
Nature’s observatory—whence the dell,
Its flowery slopes, its river’s crystal swell,
May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep

The poem appeared to be so apt for the day to me. We moved further and each move ahead was filled with scenic extravaganza. Reaching by noon at the Parambikulam village we indulged in a hot meal of rice and freshly caught fish fry. The sumptuous meal dulled most of us, but the rain which followed was invigorating. Leaving one of the vehicles in the forest office we scrambled on to the MPV and drove on in the company of a Guide who would be our friend, philosopher, cook and et al for the next 12 kilometers. The road to civilization ended there and we crossed over a wooden bridge hearing the gurgling water beneath us. We started trekking and soon crossed a tribal hamlet and then uphill the thick forest in the company of singing birds and twittering crickets. Peacocks would squeal heralding the intrusion of humans into their habitat. At times the sound generated by the crickets in this part of the world can be so loud that you would start wondering whether such a puny insect can create such a cacophony. After a wearing trek of about 3 kilometers, we arrived at our destination- the island of solitude.

Very tentatively we crossed over the creaking wooden logs to enter the small area of around 100 meters radius surrounded by a deep moat. A tree house made entirely out of logs, bamboo and dry leaves was to be our chalet for the night. The climb up the slippery stairs made again of bamboo was very demanding as they were placed at near perpendicular angle and at a considerable height. It was just a room of 15” length and breadth, just enough to accommodate 4 or 5 people. The bed was made of bamboo and appeared to be very comfortable, perhaps owing to the fatigue of the trek. Unloading our back packs we straightened our backs and some had a brief siesta while some just lazed around. Our guides warned us in no uncertain terms that at any cost we should not cross the moat and then left to fetch us dinner. This sound of jungle was reverberating. Soon the rain too came pouring down adding to the din, or may I say music. We were told that the marshy land behind the tree house is a place frequented by a number of animals. The very name of our tree top rest house itself was Sambhar House suggesting that the tall grasses around is an ideal place for these antelopes. Unfortunately, as it was raining, we were not able to make any sighting. But the milieu was more than compensating for the lack of animal sightings. Dinner of chicken curry, fish fry and kurma with rice and rotis were served by our guides at around 8 and we retired to bed with lullabies from the crickets and numerous birds. As we trekked back we had a rare sighting of a pack of hyenas which appeared to be more scared of us than we were with them. We had on our way up tried in vain to get a composed picture of peacock but had failed in our attempts. As if realizing our disappointment, a vibrantly colored peacock ambled around giving us enough opportunity to capture its multiple hues. We left Parambikulam after breakfast.

It was a fleeting trip and hence the longing still remains. Much remains to be seen of this verdant forest, particularly the island where animal sightings are most regular. Despite the briefness of the tryst with this verdant land, it was a humbling experience. Nature nurtures and its brawn to mould over our thinking is more pronounced here than anywhere else. Truly, it is a Nature’s abode.

I was accompanied by my colleagues Sridhar, Jayaram, Vadivelu and Alex during this great outing.

Sikkim- the paradise on Earth!!!

Being my second visit to Sikkim, the expectant enthusiasm was not as overpowering, little realizing the surprises this trip would throw in. Nonetheless, the mere prospect of being in the Himalayas propelled me. Unlike the last trip, a decade back, reaching Gangtok this time was not at all tedious. Having changed over to shorts and Ts, we (Srinivas and Raja Reddy with their families) soaked in the untainted air by going out for a late evening walk before settling in for dinner. Gangtok had changed in myriad ways- clean and neat walkways, big shopping areas, a sterile market place etc.,. A light drizzle cooled up the atmosphere and was ideal for a snug slumber.

Day 1:- Nathulla Pass and Tsango Lake. Our first destination was Nathulla Pass which I had visited earlier, but the excitement of being at the edge of India, was enticing. The roads were bumpy and nausea was a constant companion to many of our fellow travelers. Having been to the Himalayas to every possible and some impossible places from Shillong in the east to Mukteshwar in the west, I was more aware of the weather in these regions and therefore coaxed my friends to proceed straight to Nathulla without stop so that we can leave the pass before its starts getting windy and snowy. Nathulla meaning 'Nathu' for listening ears' and 'La' meaning pass in Tibetan language, is situated on the Old Silk Route and is the gateway to Lhasa in Tibet. This place was witness to a number of skirmishes between the Indian and Chinese soldiers in the past. Situated at 14,100 ft above sea level, there is constant snow and at times very cold and windy. Here too, much headway in terms of tourist comfort was evident on the ground. The vehicles would now drop you just below the steps, though climbing those 50 odd steep steps laden with slippery snow was enervating to say the least. One would wonder how could 50 steps be so tiresome, but 10 steps in that rarefied atmosphere with scant oxygen is not just tiring but can also prove to be perilous at times. At the top, a thrill of excitement ran through me on seeing the snow covered ground, the Chinese soldiers and the line of control dividing humanities just by a small wire barely visible in the snow. However, soldiers on both sides ensured that none stepped on to the Chinese snow! With the mirth of a child, I posed for photograph with a Chinese soldier and also did my bit for bonding peoples by cajoling soldiers on both sides to shake hands for a photograph, albeit each standing in their own territory. It is at these times that I ponder as to why have we created gulfs and divides estranging man from man. As prognosticated by me, it started snowing and the climb down was even more grueling. Bengali ladies who appeared to be very coyly poised initially, were now soliciting help from strangers! No wonder; I wouldn't blame them, the burgers and pizzas did them or undid them all. Once down the steps, the yearning to drink or eat something warm was unendurable and our roving eyes saw a Cafe- “Cafe 14,000” run by the Army Officers' Wives Welfare Association (apologies if I got the name wrong). We washed down a good deal of 'momos' and good helping of spicy chutneys with 'hot when poured into the cup, cold when it hits the lips' coffee. Surprise of surprise! They even gave me a certificate signed by the Station Commander for having reached the 'Pass'. I would treasure it for whatever it is worth.

The drivers of our jeeps had foreseen our pitiable plight and had warmed up our vehicles on their own volition- a touching gesture. Our next stop was the Tsango Lake also called as the Changu Lake. It was great treat for the eyes yet again as the snowy peaks reflected themselves on the placid waters. For most tourists, this is the place where they catch up some breath after the Nathulla fiasco. Nevertheless, just sitting on the banks of this unruffled lake is blissful, though of course, if you are not disturbed by the intermittent pleas of yak owners for a photograph on the yak. I took his photograph instead of mine and excused myself after doling out 50 bucks. I did buy peace for Rs.50! Back to our burrow by around seven, we had enough time to explore the city which we did on foot. Exhausted we hit the beds with a solemn promise to wake up by 5 and be on the road by 7 as we had to travel for more than eight hours to reach our next camp- Chumtang.

Day 2 Gangtok to Chumtang:- Wake up we did early, but squandered away the advantage by going for a morning walk followed by a long, lazy breakfast. Consequently our start off time was around 9. The journey to Chumtang was long and arduous. The most formidable part was of course between Gangtok- the state capital and Mangan- the district headquarters of North Sikkim district. No sooner had we left Gangtok's vicinity we seldom found black top and it was replaced by dusty and bumpy patches with no semblance of any road having existed there. We were told that BRO (the acronym for Border Roads Organization) is on the job and soon there would be wide roads there. Knowing and having experienced the efficiency and efficacy of BRO, I am sure that by the time I get to visit this place again, it would be much less painful for the gloutos. En-route we made a brief halt at Kabi-Lungchok where a blood treaty was signed by two warring tribes of lepchas and bhutias-nothing much to see except that one would get the feeling of having seen a place of historical significance. Tucked away in the mountains is the quaint Phodong monastery. We made a brief stop over there too and interacted with the monks aged between 8 and 80 and even offered our silent prayers at the altar. The 'Seven Sister' waterfalls which is between Phodong and Mangan Mangan is worth watching. It appears timid at times of peace, but its real ferocity is worth watching after a small bout of rain. We had the good opportunity of witnessing the roaring waterfalls after a brief rain on our return journey. 'Fast and furious' is the apt description for this waterfalls. Sikkim, and more particularly the northern part is dotted with waterfalls and one would get tired of counting them. Their numbers too swell with the increase in rainfall often washing away a portion and sometimes whole of roads. The road from Mangan to Chumtang was for most part well topped and the drive was smooth and we could manage an average of about 30 km/hr! The last leg of this journey of about 10 kms was enough to compensate whatever little patches of good roads we had earlier. The roads were not only bumpy, but we found that it was very narrow and precariously poised between the hill wall and the deep gorge. I am sure, many would have murmured silent prayers when they cross this patch. I was told that roads here were far more horrendous than what it is now and tourists would often alight and walk. It was dark by the time we were traversing this patch and perhaps this darkness shrouded the danger from us. We hit land ie., Chumtang by 8 pm and to put it succinctly we were much relieved to jump off the jeeps!

Chumtang is small sleepy village with a population of 800 and a migrant population of 3500. I did not sight any hotel or lodging houses worth its name in the village (may be my nocturnal outings were not able to locate). At this juncture I must confide to all teetotalers that in Sikkim, particularly in rural Sikkim, there are much more number of liquor outlets than tea outlets or eateries! In this village or town which consists of just one road which just keep going up and up, there are around 16 outlets where alcoholic liquors are vended whereas we couldn't fetch tea in this place after 8pm! And I, before anyone can vouchsafe that unlike in most part of India, there is absolutely no adulteration. So anyone planning to travel to Sikkim, please do not burden yourself by carrying your own liquor, for you can get the best at the most affordable rates. As our itinerary for the next day was for Yumtang Valley a very early morning wake-up wasn't envisaged and hence we indulged in the much lost out banter before dozing off to the lullabies of my friend's snore.

Day 3 Yumtang Valley:- After a good breakfast, we set off to the Yumtang Valley often extolled as the Switzerland of India. As we gained altitude, the vegetation too changed its hues. The whole of Sikkim is a bed of flowers, but with every gain of altitude the intensity changes and rocky surfaces with bare grasses are soon replaced by balmy green grass fields interspersed with tiny flowers of various shades. The sky gets clearer on mornings and due to a complete lack of pollution of any count, the rays of the sun hits you very blazingly. Despite the intense cold, there is every chance of getting sun burnt unless you are covered properly. The azure blue sky coupled with the thin air and light gurgle of the river below weaves a magic spell on all travelers. Often we see an aura around the moon, but I have never witnessed one around the sun. It was by chance I noticed one around the sun there but the oppressive glare fended off any attempt of viewing it again. Much later we were able to successfully capture the phenomenon with our lenses behind the silhouette of a tall tree.

The long jeep journey had not only fatigued but had famished many. Before setting out to explore the valley, we decided to help ourselves to some momos and black tea. These nibbles rejuvenated most souls and we slowly crept ourselves into the valley because any quick moves would deplete your lungs of oxygen which is scarce here and one can soon swoon. The sight around from the valley was to say the least- exhilarating. It is not without reason that people often place this valley in the same league as Switzerland. Green meadows, a meandering stream carrying crystal clear water, surrounded by snow covered peaks with poplars at the edges of the valley all blend together to make an ideal picture post card. We walked around soaking the beauty of the valley and then after another helping of tea decided to take the trekkers path to the hot spring. This brief trek through the rhododendron forest punctuated with small wooden bridges of which we have seen illustrations in the old time novels and small mounds of solid snow was invigorating. As the rays of the sun grapple with the canopy of pine leaves to peek in, there are intermittent regions of cold shade and sunny relief. Srinivas, my friend and me avowed to come back here for a longer trek through these virgin forests. Soon we reached the so-called hot spring. This was the only disillusionment in our entire Sikkim trip. We did not venture to see the place but from the accounts of the people who were returning from the spring we understood that the place boasted of a tap through which hot water trickled down. After a resuscitating drink of 'Bacardi Breezer' we latched on to our seats to return to our camp at Chumtang.

During supper, our driver Mr.Bhutia put forth a proposal to start at 3 in the morning which was opposed in unison. Mr.Bhutia was the owner driver of one of our jeeps and he was overtly obsessed with his new vehicle which he protected with the tenderness of a new bride. Though of course, this preoccupation was a blessing in disguise for the passengers for he never drew fast, but would monotonously grumble about bad roads and bad drivers. No wonder, Naimisha, the little daughter of my friend aptly named him 'Grumpy'. So when Grumpy proposed that we start so early, the idea was phoo-phooed and we opted to start at 5.00 instead.

Day 4 Gurudongmar Lake:- We were adequately warned by many that the journey to Gurudongmar is fraught with danger and unless we reach the military check post before 10 am, we wouldn't be allowed to proceed further. Though we had resolved to start at 5 am, it was almost 5.45 by the time we were on the roads, which soon gave way to rocky and muddy path on the edges of mammoth mountains. The road from Chumtang to Lachen was paved though for most part. To avoid nausea we had not had our breakfast and the ladies instead had anti-nausea tablets for breakfast. We had obtained the 'inner-line permit' from Mangan itself which we produced in the Police Outpost at Lachen. Coupled with the delayed start, we had to stop at several places for little Naimisha to vomit. She would be chirpy and talkative and then suddenly feel sick. The stoppage at Lachen was godsend, for we could get down from our aching seats and stretch ourselves. It was then that we realized how cold is it out in the open. Without wasting much time, we set out again in the rocky path with the jeep moaning with every climb. For most part it was running only in the first gear and rarely the second. Our average speed dipped to less that 7 kilometers per hour. By 9 we reached the last of human habitation- Thangu. Our driver purchased his supplies of diesel and pushed on further. The initial avidity of looking around and enjoying the milieu soon gave way and most of the occupants in the vehicles were lost in a sort of somnolent trance. May be my previous tours had hardened me out and so I was eagerly trying to capture some pictures but in vain as the jeep was shaking savagely. Naimisha who had regained her real self after a bout of vomiting was silent again. This appeared to be ominous. I saw her growing red and there were by now tell-tale signs of asphyxiation on her. Reaching Army check-post at Giogong appeared to be godsend. Soon we decided that Srinivas would stay back at the post along with Naimisha while others would proceed further to Gurudongmar Lake. Srinivas, more than anybody else in our group, was more enthusiastic about the trip and his loss was painful to all of us, but there was no other option. Leaving the army post one enters the barren valley- the cold desert where there are no roads and you have to pave your way. I had seen such places only in the National Geographical Channel and the urge to drive was growing in me. The 40 minute drive was memorable but the gradual climb to 17, 000 feet was noticed by our bodies which were struggling for oxygen. Gurudongmar Lake is on the fringes of the Kanchengunga Ranges and is one of the sources of river Teesta. The legend has it that the Sikh Guru Guru Nanak Dev traveled through the area on his way back from Tibet during his third Udasi (journey) in 1516. During the visit, yak grazers sought Guru Ji's help over the scarcity of fresh water in the region, because the lake remained frozen throughout the year. Guru Ji hit the frozen lake waters with his stick and the ice melted away in that part of the lake making its pristine water accessible. The blessed part of the lake hasn't frozen since. The sight offered by the lake and the surrounding snow clad peaks is much more than our eyes can absorb and assimilate. Bright blue skies with small patches of clouds as if the painter has used his brush just to increase the contrast, snow bound peaks with small patches of brown earth peeking out, the lake with its white, green and blue hues all combine to create a phantasmagorical (for lack of a more apt word) atmosphere. Labour hard you should, to even move here; even just crouching for a better shot of photography was painstaking. The army jawans posted there were again kind and affable. They offered hot tea and chocolates trying to resuscitate us. Though, I desired to sit there for eternity my limbs wouldn't permit and we decided to start back. Our driver, though a man from Sikkim too was not all fine and there were tell-tale signs of fatigue on him and consequently my feeble offer to drive was immediately accepted by him. For me this was bliss as you can't get a second chance to drive in this terrain. Grabbing the opportunity with both hands, literally, I did not give him a second chance to think and occupied the driver's seat. As I drove on the dust track I realized that it is easy to get lost and land in the Chinese army's net! Wise counsel of my friend asked me to follow a small line of telephone and we did reach Indian territory safe and sound. We bade good bye to the Officer in Charge of the post (CO) a young Captain from the Engineering Corps and a product of DAV, Chennai and the jawans there. Having grabbed driver's seat I was in no mood to give up and opted to drive down to Chumtang. On the way back, we halted at Thangu for our first solid food of the day- noodles 'yo-yo'. Over steaming hot noodles which now appeared tastier than any culinary delight fished out by five star souz chefs, we took another major decision. It was decided unanimously that the ladies and kids would proceed to Chumtang and we- Sreeni, Raja Reddy and me would stay back at Lachung and make another attempt of Gurudongmar.

After seeing off the ladies and kids, we set out looking for an accommodation for the night's stay at Lachung. We settled for the first lodge in the vicinity and judging by the pricing of Rs.500/- per day, the room was very competitively priced. It was a big room with two large beds and a deewan. Most importantly, it had very neat bathrooms. There was no power and we were told that it would come soon, though of course it never made an appearance till we left the place next day afternoon. Nevertheless, we enjoyed our stay and the candle light dinner of roti, dal and some strange vegetable curry. Our driver 'grumpy' had very reluctantly conceded for another trip up Gurudongmar on the assurance that I would be driving. But strangely I could not get even a wink of sleep in the night and added to that my body was showing all signs of high altitude sickness. Moreover, we had to drive back all the way to Gangtok immediately on return from Gurudongmar. Weighing all the options, we decided that I catch up some sleep so that I could take over the wheels from Grumpy from Lachung to Chumtang at least and give him some rest. My friends left at 3 am and I did get some sleep from 3 am to 7 am which was very refreshing. After a cold shower, I had my breakfast of omelet and bread and then set out exploring this limpid habitation. I met people, talked to them so that I could get a feel of the place. I was told that for most part of the year, this place remains cold and snow covered and the maximum temperature here did not cross 10 degree centigrade. The people led a pastoral life and few survived on some bold tourists like us. Of course, there were number of shops selling noodles, momos and liquor serving the army men. There were only 8 graduates in the whole village and only one knew and understood English. The break thus was educative and rejuvenating. My friends returned at around 12 and immediately thereafter we set out for Chumtang with me at the wheels. The drive down to Chumtang was not very challenging as the roads though winding were almost paved. Reaching Chumtang by around 1.30, we finished our lunch and set out immediately targeting to reach Gangtok by 7 in the evening, a difficult proposition considering the unpredictable roads. Sreenivas, who is an accomplished driver himself, had been my navigator on many of our earlier trips and was very adept in his job. He would warn me if I am too fast or even too slow and would always be in the lookout for clear roads so that we could accelerate. Driving in these roads was challenging but with two more vigilant eyes made the task much easier. Chumtang to Mangan was arduous with the jeep often swaying sideways. The light drizzle which had set by now made the task even more parlous. To be candid, I was enjoying the challenge, and by their expressions my friends were more at ease when I was at the wheels. As we progressed, rain intensified and we realized how treacherous these roads could be. Many a times, Sreeni had to alight and see which portion of the road was intact and which portion had been washed away. We had a brief stop over at Seven Sisters waterfalls and saw its might after the brief spell of rain. It was gorging down with all ferocity now and the timidity which we saw on our way up had vanished. After a small helping of chana with very delicious masala tea we set out again. It was slowly getting dark and the perils of mountain driving were increasing. However, without much delay we reached Mangan. As we crossed Mangan town, the clouds descended and visibility was reduced to less than 50 meters. Our vexation was compounded by the slushy roads where the jeep just wouldn't roll straight. Sha-shaying from one end of the road to the other we somehow managed to precariously hold on to the road. The drive for the next 20 kilometers was both spine-chilling and nerve-racking. Despite all the impediments thrown in by the nature, we were able to hold on to our pre-determined timings and reached Gangtok safe and sound by 7.15 pm. I had gone on long drives and through some very tough terrains and nothing was more daunting and intimidating as this one. As we got down, Raja Reddy heaved sigh of relief and stated with affirmation that he had a drive of a day and that he couldn't have been in safer hands. This was more than a thousand accolades to me.

One significant aspect which I noticed in Sikkim has left an indelible imprint on my conscience. I was crestfallen at the loss of my father but with the hope that Baba (Bhagawan Sri Satya Sai Baba) would be there for me to lend his shoulders at times of crisis. His demise just before my departure for this tour had saddened me deeply. But I consoled myself that his presence in physical form was immaterial and that he would continue to reside in our hearts and souls. Despite the self reassurance, I was already missing him, but when I saw the long candle light procession at Gangtok in his memory by scores of men, women and children braving the inclement weather, my spirits brightened up. I was surprised at the throng of devotees and even passerby population that this remote place too is blessed by His presence. One evening as we were taking a lazy walk through the main road of Chumtang, we could hear some sort of prayers up above from a small temple. The steps leading to the temple were steep and we had to halt twice in between to catch our breath. On reaching the top, we found that around 50 devotees of Baba had assembled and were singing bhajans. It was as if we were drawn up by some strange force to be a part of this bhajan. We stood there muted, offered our prayers and left after the aarati. I felt his presence everywhere.

Our tryst with Sikkim was coming to an end. The last four days were frenetic, tiring but most gratifying to the soul. I exited Sikkim after a brief visit to the Rumtek Monastery the next day offering my silent prayers that may this land of tranquility and serenity be preserved this way for the future generations to come and not ravaged by ravenous politicians in the name of development and modernity.

For photographs click these links.

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.226630164020846.77386.100000215918321&l=a476e12e1b

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.226151977401998.77203.100000215918321&l=dfcfc5e6ef

PS:- We were often at loss to determine the distance to each destination and the time taken. We have endeavored to log the distances and time taken for each of the destinations so that it could be of use to anyone who might like to travel to these places.

Place	Distance in KM	Aprrox. Travel Time in hrs.
Lake Gurudongmar	0.0	0.00
Giogong – Army Check Post	16.1	0.55
Thangu	33.2
Yakthang Valley	39.2
Lachen	66.1	3.25
Chungthang	96.1	4.30
Chungthang	0.0	0.00
Lachung	25.0	1.05
Yumthang Valley	48.0	2.35
Chungthang	0.0	0.00
Sighik Viewpoint	27.9	1.30
Mangan	31.5	1.40
Phodong Monastery	59.6	2.45
Seven Sister Waterfall	68.0	3.05
Gangtok	99.3	4.45
Gangtok	0.0	0.00
Rumtek Monastery	19.0	0.45
Singtam	42.0	1.55
Gangtok	0.0	0.00
Singtam	28.0
Rangpo	39.0
Teesta	66.0
Darjeeling	107.0	5.00
Gangtok	0.0	0.00
Siliguri/Bagdogra	116.0	5.00
1. Rumtek Monastery is 12km away from main Gangtok-Siliguri highway. But people who
want to visit the Monastery on the way to Siliguri can travel via Rumtek between Gangtok & Singtam.
2. Without touching Gangtok, people can travel directly from Siliguri to Mangan. This will
be shorter by about 42 km.
Place Altitude Gangtok 1450 m Changu Lake 3660 m Nathu la 4410 m Chungthang 1790 m Lachung 3000 m Yumthang 3660 m Lachen 2750 m Gurudongmar 5220 m Chopta Valley 4030 m Darjeeling 2050 m