Back to Darjeeling

Robin was going to continue to hike through the area, eventually reaching back Pelling, my original destination and then back to Darjeeling. Kenichi's permit for Sikkim was running out and I was ready to move on to someplace new. So Kenichi and I headed back for Darjeeling the morning after our hike to Yuksam.

The ride down from Yuksam, back to the town of Jorethang, was somewhat nauseating. In part it was because we were in the very back of the jeep and the swaying was a bit much. But it was also just unsettling to my stomach for some other reason, although I don't know what it was. So on the second leg of the trip back to Darjeeling, we muscled out way into window seats facing forward. And we felt much better.

Once back in Darjeeling, we wandered around for a while trying to find a cheap place to stay. Kenichi is very good at that. Where I just give in after a while and settle, often for a higher priced place, Kenichi led us around in the back of the populated area and we ended up finding a place for less than a third of what I had paid the week before when I had arrived in Darjeeling the first time. I have to learn to give it a bit more effort. India really is a cheap place to stay and move around in. I just have to be a bit more persistent.

Once settled, we headed out for a bite to eat. Kenichi has the Lonely Planet guidebook and, though I have come to look down on it to some extent because so many people use it that many of the places listed in there have become overrun, there are times when it does have really good information. For instance, there was listed in the book a pizza place in Darjeeling that was supposed to be quite good. We decided to give it a shot and went there for a late lunch. And it was really, really good pizza. I haven't had good pizza for quite some time. So I had to take a photo of it.

The (Exhausting) Trek to Yuksam

The day dawned crisp and clear. There were few clouds in the sky. Once again, the mountains across the valley could be seen clearly and it was a magnificent sight. It seemed a good omen to begin the trek to Yuksam. I was feeling strong and my back seemed to be fairly sturdy. I figured I would probably make it through the day. I did hope though that I wasn't going to hold Robin and Kenichi up too much. 

We ate a hearty breakfast, paid our room and board and headed out, but not before saying a final good-bye to Sonam's father. He had been the cook for the Dalai Lama and had told us a bunch of stories the night before. He was a very interesting man.

Back down the hill to the village below, for the third time, I was getting very familiar with the path down the mountainside. It didn't make it any easier, and certainly not with 15 kilograms to carry with me. But it wasn't too bad.

From the village at the bottom, we headed down the road for a bit until we found the shortcut down into and across the valley. It was beautiful. We walked through villages on the mountainside. We walked through quiet forests, quiet except for the birds in the trees. I don't know quite what to say about the scenery, so I will let the scenery speak for itself.

I managed quite well. Down was not a particular problem. Gravity did most of the work. But on the other side, we continued to follow the shortcut instead of following the road, which was much longer. For me this may have been a mistake. There were a couple of times where I wobbled and almost fell down. It was quite a tough climb with the extra weight. I was really wishing that I had left a bunch of stuff in Darjeeling, or somewhere else along the way. But I had not thought I would do something like that and so...

And in the end I made it. Robin and Kenichi got way ahead of me at times, but I still managed to catch up in the end, at the village of Yuksam. We finished up at a spot in the village, reputed to be the spot where three monks from the surrounding mountains met and crowned a fourth person as the king of the area. That was the birth of the kingdom of Sikkim. The thrones for the various participants was still intact.

So was a tree that was planted at the time. It was now quite massive.

Then it was into the village itself where we got some well-deserved refreshments and found a spot to spend the night. It had been a successful adventure. But it had also convinced me that I was going to be in no shape to deal with Nepal in any sort of reasonable timeframe, given my other goals for this trip. So, Nepal has been scratched off the itinerary for this point in time. Oh well. A spot to come back to.

Hangin' in Khecheperi for a Third Day

Another pair of guests headed out on my third day at the guest house. This was a French couple, Greg and Michelle. Greg was on his second visit to the guest. He had been there 5 years before and had spent some time exploring the region. This time he had brought his wife and they were spending a couple of weeks in Sikkim. They were going to go for a bit of a circuit for three days before returning to Sonam's and going on a three trek with Sonam to another mountain town. This day they were off to hike to Yuksam, the town across the valley and the next in the hiking/trekking circuit in West Sikkim around the towns and villages of the area. They were the second set of people to do this hike, and I had to admit that I was interested in doing it myself. I had come to Sikkim more or less on a lark. It was unplanned and I hadn't even known what I could or would do here. As such, I had brought all my stuff with me. This was a problem because all my stuff together is fairly heavy. I wanted to do the hike, but I also knew it would take about four to five hours for someone in good condition, so for me it might take 6 or seven. And I would have to carry all that stuff with me. Or I might be able to leave it at Sonam's and return another day, but I wasn't sure I wanted to do that. But I had another day to think about it. In the meantime, we bid adieu to Greg and Michelle.

As well, the day had dawned much clearer and the mountains in the distance could be seen. These were mountains of the Himalaya (and it is apparently not supposed to be with an “s” on the end as the part of the word “-laya” is already plural), and the one that could be viewed was called Mt. Kabru or something. But it made a nice sight that morning.

Later that morning, Karen came by and said she was headed down to a village called Thingling. She wanted to buy the ingredients for an Israeli dish called Shukshuka that she was going to make later. A number of us decided to go with her. So we headed off past the monastery at near the guest houses and down the mountain. It was a loooong way down. We had been told it was about 20 minutes. It was much longer than that. Damn these mountain people who climb like mountain goats. They forget that we tenderfeet aren't used to all the climbing and we don't do so nearly as fast or as well. But the views were quite nice and we saw interesting little things along the way.

When we got to the village, it seemed to be the standard sort of little mountain village in the area, sitting there on the side of the mountain. And it had this store in the center with vegetables and eggs and chocolate and other goods. I don't know how it keeps stocked. Probably the people around the area bring their produce in and sell it to the store, which then turns around and sells it to the people who need it. The chocolate, of course, comes from elsewhere.

I particularly liked the house in the village that had an old, traditional part, a newer part, and a satellite dish. I guess they really like their Discovery Channel around here.

Then it was the long hike back up the mountain to the guest houses.

Once we arrived back at the guest house, one of the other guests, a French Canadian named Robin had decided to hike the next day to the town of Yuksam. Having been intrigued by the idea myself, I asked him if he wanted any company. He said he would be glad of the company and so I decided that I would make the trek. I didn't know how I would handle it, whether my back had reached the point where it would be okay with a hike like that, and probably with all my stuff to carry as well. But I decided there was no time like the present to find out. And I figured it would be a beautiful hike down across and up the valley. It was something that I didn't want to miss. And I would also be able to see if there was any chance I could handle a trip in Nepal. One of the other guests, Kenichi (from Japan) decided that he would accompany us as well and so it was going to be a threesome the next. Then we found out that a whole bunch of other people would be heading away from the guest houses as well. Many would be going back to Darjeeling and points beyond. The guest houses were going to have lots of space the next night.

(Karen's shukshuka was delicious.)

Still Hangin' in Khecheperi

Sonam is the name of the guy who owns the guest house where I was staying. It is not a first-class accommodation. There is no room service, nor is there running water. Heating is whatever clothes you have brought that are warm, or the fire in the kitchen. There is electricity, but no outside lights. The sky at night, when it's not cloudy, is brilliant. And the surrounding mountains remind me of home. All around there are animals, some of which provide food, others of which become food. There is a garden with all kinds of vegetables. Sonam's wife is a superb cook and the meals we had were incredible, both in wholesome taste and in quantity. Included in the fee to stay at the guest house was three square meals a day, and they were prodigious. We ate so much food, I think I must have put back on any weight I have lost in these past few months. But it was worth it. It was delicious. And the price for this amazing place was a mere 6 dollars a day (300 rupees). It was unbelievable.

After a rainy night, and an early one at around 10 o'clock, the morning was gray and cloudy. There had been some new arrivals the afternoon before and they had not seen the mountains around the area. They were all around the ridge where the little village with Sonam's guest house, but the mountains were hidden in the mists. We told the new arrivals that they were there, but I'm not entirely sure they believed us.

After an early rise and then breakfast, I decided to have a bit of a wander around the little village, to see what was there. Beyond the second guest house (which is right beside Sonam's guest house and is run by his father) is a small monastery with a rather large stupa (or whatever it would be called in Buddhism). Leading along the path to the monastery is a line of prayer flags on poles, in different colours. It made a nice sort of processional when walking along the path.

Karen, the Israeli woman who had told me about the guest house and the lake, came by and wondered about going down to the lake. Sarah, one of the new arrivals from the day before, decided she wanted to go as well. And I thought it would be good exercise, so I decided to go again as well. Down we went. This time, it was approaching midday, and that meant that the tourist hordes were already there and in a large pack. We sat at a little restaurant/cafe and drank some chai (spiced tea that is a specialty in India). Karen told us that at her guest house, she heard a story that someone had come down and had some vegetable momos, which are basically the Indian version of dumplings. Later the person died. I was a bit dubious. It sounded like some sort of exaggerated tale. If someone had really died, I would have thought the story would be all over the place. Nevertheless, Karen and I had eaten some vegetable momos down there when we had arrived and so it gave us pause. But that had been two days before, so I figured we were safe.

We waited and waited for the parade of tourist jeeps to slow down to a trickle, but it didn't happen. We thought it would have to be later in the day, but none of us wanted to wait that long, nor did we relish the thought of climbing up and then coming back down later. So we eventually gave up and just went in. I had been there without lots of people, so it didn't really bother me one way or the other, but it was too bad for Karen and Sarah. It was pretty much like the day before, only with more people, and it was overcast as well. And because of the rain, I had to contend with a few leaches as well.

And this time I bought a ticket like a good little boy. So I now had the souvenir ticket with the story of lake and it's origins printed on the back.

Then it was back up the hill for lunch (which we had missed because we sat waiting for the tourist hordes to magically disappear). But they knew we were coming and heated it up for us when we got back. I loved that guest house. They were so nice. If anyone ever visits India and goes for jaunt to Sikkim, Sonam's guest house at Khecheperi Lake is highly, highly recommended.

Hangin' Out In Khecheperi

Khecheperi Lake was more about just relaxing in a natural setting than really doing or seeing anything. Nevertheless there was plenty to see and do. Sonam's guest house is located on a ridge above a valley where the holy lake of Khecheodpalri Lake. Legend says it was a place of nettles. Then two conch shells came down from the sky and entered the earth, whereupon a great spring sprang forth. It is supposedly the abode of the chief Protective Nymph of Dharma. It also has the shape of a foot and Buddhists say it is the footprint of the goddess Tara. It is also said to be a wish-fulfilling lake and people who are pure of heart have wishes granted and are blessed with health and happiness. Naturally none of this will apply to me of less than pure heart.

The first night at the guest house there was a couple of Australians who had found Buddhism to be a good way of life. They were also advocates of yoga. The next morning they were headed across the valley to another town, but first they wanted to visit the lake. I had just arrived the day before, late in the day, and I wanted to see the lake as well, so I went down with them. It is quite a trek going down, just as it was coming up. One way, it takes about 20 to 30 minutes. Down we went and into the area of the sacred lake. There was an entry fee booth, but I didn't see it, so I didn't pay. Nobody stopped me, so I figured later that it mustn't have been that important. Inside there was a small pond, fed by the waters of the lake. Visitors were reminded that it was a holy spot and they shouldn't put their feet in the water. A short ways farther along the path was a monastery, notable for being, in fact, a nunnery (or whatever they would be called in Buddhism). It was Tibetan in “flavour” and had the prayer wheels around the outside and a large prayer wheel inside. Simon and Lily, the Australians, passed around the building and spun the wheels and then went inside and spun the big one. I followed suit, not really knowing what the whole exercise is for. Perhaps I'll look into one day. Then one of the lady monks came out and told us we could go up and look inside the monastery. We headed up to the building and had a look inside. We didn't go in because the lady monks were doing their chanting and meditating. We didn't want to intrude.

After a while, we headed down the path again and eventually ended up at the holy lake. We looked at it from above and then went down to another set of prayer wheels along a wooden pathway to the edge of the lake. It was serene and peaceful. At 10:00 o'clock when we got there. While we were putting our shoes back on though, the hordes started arriving. Naturally, as a holy lake with lots of significance in the Buddhist faith, it is an attraction for anyone visiting that part of Sikkim. And so they come. And, as always with your run of the mill tourist, they don't really have a lot of sense of propriety. Even with signs everywhere suggesting that quietness is good. So, we heard them coming hundreds of meters off. And it was so much for the peace and serenity. But we had a bit of it. We headed off further along the path by the lake. Simon and Lily had brought a small set of prayer flags and they decided they wanted to tie them up at this lake. So they selected a spot they thought would be suitable and they put their flags up between a couple of trees. These are the same types of flags as can be seen all around the lake. Some are longer sets of flags, some are bigger, some are set on a series of poles, and so on. They are high and low. They are tied to trees, and even to other strings of prayer flags. I'm not exactly sure what they do, but it's safe to say they are likely some kind of blessing or wish for health or happiness or something along those lines.

Having taken care of that bit of business, Simon and Lily headed off towards the path to the next town, and I headed back up the hill to the guest house and a lazy afternoon. It was made lazier by the coming of rain, that pretty much put a damper on further activity. (Leaches like rain and wet, so they come out in droves in the area when it rains. But the setting is very nice for just lolling around, so rain or no, it was a good afternoon.

On to Sikkim

I arrived at the jeep station about 7:30 and met one of the people from the day before. There were a couple of others there who were going to Pelling as well and we tried to arrange a jeep to take us directly rather than taking one jeep to the border of Sikkim, and then another one to head to Pelling. (Sikkim is a rather odd entity. It acts in a lot of ways like a separate country. A permit is needed in advance of arrival, much like a visa, and when you arrive at the border, they check your documents and even stamp your passport. There are other such areas in India and some of them are even more restrictive about visits.) Karen, an Israeli woman among our number made a stab at getting a good price. She failed to budge the driver she talked with from 3000 rupees. We had heard that it would be about a hundred rupees to Jorethang, at the border, and then a hundred more or so to Pelling. There were only five of us and the price was just too high, so we ended up doing the two jump trip. And we squashed into the jeep and lumped it.

We headed out of Darjeeling and down the mountainside to the border of Sikkim. And I do mean down the mountainside. It was a precarious and steep road that was often more of a track or even a rock quarry than a road. And there was more than once that I wondered at how fast the driver was going. He had already less than endeared himself by backing up almost into some of the other passengers when we were standing at the jeep stand.

At length we got to the bottom and crossed the river into Sikkim. There we were met with a border control station. In a rather leisurely fashion, the officials checked our documents and then stamped our passports and sent us on to Jorethang. This was a pleasant enough seeming little town. It might be nice to stay there on the way back out of Sikkim.

We arrived in a depot building that was a lot like a bus depot, but it was only jeeps that were inside. And the were off to all sorts of different destinations inside Sikkim and back in West Bengal as well. It was quite the bustling little depot. Meanwhile, Karen had been telling me where she was headed. She was going past Pelling and to a little place called Khecheperi Lake. She had heard of a guest house there that was cheap and in a beautiful location. It sounded pretty cool and so I changed my plan from going to Pelling and instead going to Khecheperi. We bought our tickets on another jeep and off we went, an hour or so later.

We headed up another mountain and there was a lot of evidence of a recent earthquake. There had been an earthquake in an area in the north of Sikkim, but even here some 70 or 80 kilometers away, there was a lot of landslide damage and broken roads.

At length we arrived in the little town of Khecheperi and were greeted by a boy who inquired if we were looking for a place. I wasn't sure what we were looking for, so I pawned him off on Karen. It turned out that he was the son of the person who owned the guest house we were looking for, so he said he would show us the way. We were hungry, so we sat down and had some dumplings at one of the little shops down at the town first. Then we began the walk up to the guest house. And was it ever up. It took about half an hour of walking up this mountainside to get to the little village with the guest house. But the view provided by the rising path over the nearby sacred lake was spectacular. The guest house has a really attractive perch over the valley and despite the hefty hike up with all of my stuff, I think it's going to be a nice place to stay for a couple of days.

The Mistake That Turned Out Rather Well

If I had thought about it a bit more, I never would have decided to do it. One of the attractions of the Darjeeling area is a trip up to the top of Tiger Hill to watch the sunrise. And I let Vipro talk me into it before I really thought about it. I realized at 4 o'clock in the morning that, because sunrise is a set sort of time, and there is only one every day, that would mean that anyone who wanted to see it would be there at the same time. And Darjeeling was in the midst of a festival, so there were lots of people in the city at that time. And all of them would be heading up to the top of Tiger Hill at the same time to watch this amazing sunrise. But by the time I really thought about that, I was in the jeep on the way up and it was too late to do anything about it. But I was really, really right.

I realized that as I was in a jeep in a procession of jeeps heading up the hill. And then we had to stop a fair ways below the top of the hill because there was no more space at the top for more jeeps to get up there. Oh well. We walked up the rest of the way, about a kilometer. We bought our entrance tickets. Yes. There are even tickets to the tops of hills in India. The nickel and diming is taken to a ridiculous level here.

Then we trudged the rest of the way up to the viewing area. And there were thousands and thousands of people there. I had no chance of getting a good unobstructed view of the sunrise without standing on some ladder. But...

It just happened that that night and morning were a full moon. And everyone was waiting with baited breath for the sun to rise, while virtually ignoring the setting of the full moon. So I had a really clear view of the setting of the full moon. That was really nice.

Then I turned around to the other side and got to watch, through throngs of people all jostling for position, the sunrise. I wasn't sure when it would happen, as there were clouds at the horizon, but I needn't have worried. As the first edge of the disk of the sun appeared in the hazy clouds a great murmur of seeming amazement went through the crowd. It was like Elvis had been spotted or something. It was the sun, for Pete's sake.

It wasn't a spectacular sunrise or anything, but it was serviceable. And it had been special because of the moonset, so the trip up had turned out all right even though it was an ill-conceived notion because of the nature of it and having to enjoy it with my four thousand closest friends.

From Tiger Hill, the parade of jeeps proceeded down the hill to Batasia Loop. There are two parts to the spot that are interesting. First, it's a loop. A train track loop. There is a narrow guage train line that runs from Darjeeling down to the station at New Jalpaiguri. In actuality it only runs partway to the town of Kurseong. But in order to get down the steep mountain, the train has to loop and backtrack to maintain a safe grade of descent. One of the spots where this occurs is the Batasia Loop. The track makes one and a half loops as it descends 10 or 15 meters. Luckily, this train only goes once a day and so the market catering to the throngs of tourists who swarm over the loop every morning after witnessing a splendid sunrise can proceed unmolested and without danger of anyone being crushed by a speeding train. (It doesn't speed.)

And in the middle of the loop is the war memorial of Darjeeling, dedicated to those who gave their lives in the various conflicts in which India has been involved.

From there it was back to the hotel. After a short sleep, I thought I would be tired, but the activity had made me quite alert and so I decided to head out to see Khangchenjunga, the third tallest mountain in the world and that looms in the distance north of Darjeeling. On clear mornings, it can be seen from Tiger Hill, but this morning it had been too cloudy. By the time I got back to the hotel though, it was clearing off and the mountain could be clearly seen. Before it clouded over again, I decided to head over to the viewpoint and get a photo. It worked out well and shortly after that, the clouds moved in again and I realized that I had made the right decision not to go back to bed.

Then I sat down and started reading for a while, but another foreigner came by and sat down and we started chatting. His name was Peter and he was in Darjeeling recuperating from some cracked ribs. He had been in India many times and was a good source of information, particularly as I wished to go into an area north of Darjeeling called Sikkim. This required a permit, but I wasn't clear on how to get the permit. Peter told me where to find the office. Then he walked with me to the office and accompanied me as I got photocopies of my passport for the permit application. After that, he showed me where the jeeps were to get into Sikkim. He also told me where to go in Sikkim. I had been told by some Indian tourists where I should visit in Sikkim. But again, this was Indian tourists, going to places that might be of interest to view, but would in all likelihood create an experience much like the throngs viewing sunrise that morning. I wasn't excited about that prospect, and was much more interested in what Peter suggested, which were places of great beauty, but without specific things that had to be seen. They would simply be naturally beautiful places to visit. Now I was much more interested in visiting Sikkim and was looking forward to heading there the next day.

When he showed me the jeep place, I met another woman who was heading to the same place, Pelling. She was unclear on where to get her permit, so I passed the favour on and showed her. While we were getting her squared away, we met two more people who were heading to Pelling the next day. This was getting to where we would possibly be able to hire our own jeep to go there directly instead of the two stop process it was going to be to go using the public route. So the four of us agreed to meet the next morning at 7:30 and see if it could be arranged.

I left at that point to try and find a tea house where it would be possible to taste the famous area's tea. I also went to enjoy some of the final entertainment of the festival just over.