HIMACHAL - DAY SEVEN : KHIR GANGA AND KALGA - ABODES IN THE HILLS

         I slept like a baby in the warm restaurant after the exhausting trek of the previous day. Rejuvenated, I woke up at 7:30 a.m. The guys from Delhi were having breakfast, ready to leave. Natacha was up too, enjoying the morning chill. I joined them, and we sat around for a while.

Rocky Mountainside - On the way down

         Soon we bade farewell to the guys who were headed back down the mountain and decided to go up to the hot spring near the temple at the top of the hill. When we reached the top, we were surprised to see how well organized everything was. The water from the spring filled a small swimming pool. There was a separate covered pool for the ladies. Never having seen or been in a hot spring before, I was a trifle skeptical about how hot the water actually could get.

Hot Spring - Hot enough to warm the Soul

            As I dipped my toes in, I realized this was no joke. The water was actually quite hot and I had to enter tentatively. However, once I had immersed myself completely in the water, the body regulated its temperature and the water started to feel comfortable.

Mighty Mountains Loom all Around

           The view from the pool really was something out of a dream. Not too far above, snow clad mountains loomed over us on all sides – and here I was, bathing in a steaming natural spring right in the shadow of these mighty Himalayan peaks. However high and mighty one considered oneself, it was here in the presence of these majestic snow clad summits that one truly understood his or her insignificance in the grand scheme of things. After an hour in the pool, I made my way back down the hill. Sitting outside our restaurant, I ordered breakfast and took out my book to write, while waiting for my swimming clothes to dry.

The Narrow Path Down

    Natacha was an enthusiast for photography and headed out with her camera to shoot for a while. An hour later I checked out of the room but was in two minds whether to spend another day in Khir Ganga or make my way back down the hill. Not wanting to miss out on anything during the latter part of my trip, I decided to head back. 

A Little Boy and his Pet Calf

Natacha was planning to leave as well and we decided to trek back down together, this time along the well trodden western path as we had both had our fill of adrenaline, danger and adventure the previous day. With only my sleeping bag to carry, I was ready already. With a bar of Snickers in our tummies and a bottle of water in our bags, we began the three hour trek down to the village of Kalga. Like we had done the previous day on the way up, nearly every oncoming trekker asked us how long it would take to reach the top. 

Three Musketeers - Also taking Cover

          Two drizzles followed, forcing us to take shelter, first in a little restaurant and then in a shed along the way. Four hours later we arrived at the bottom and then trudged up the hill to Kalga. Natacha intended leaving immediately for Dharamsala, so I bid her farewell and made my way to Pink House. I was told that Dan and his cousins had left for Khir Ganga that afternoon.

In the Lap of Nature

          My rucksack had been left at the reception. I took a room and freshened up before walking down to the shop at the village centre that did bus bookings to various places. I bought myself an overnight ticket to Dharamsala for the next evening and then walked on down the same path when I bumped into Michelle – the cheerful Israeli lady who had begun the trek with us the previous day. She was talking to three other Israelis. One of them, Luigi, was supposedly one of the best drummers in Israel, but rather than playing commercially, he chose to travel around his country playing the drums on the beach or roadside.

             After drinking a cup of tea with them, one of the men invited us all over to the Jewish House to celebrate Shabbat, the holy day of the Jews. Michelle, who was not very religious herself was sitting next to me and she explained some of the Jewish traditions being carried out to me.

          Once we were seated, the men went into a prayer room and sang a few prayers. Done with that, everybody seated themselves on mattresses on the floor around a long, low table. Vegetarian food was served, some of the dishes new to me, made in a Jewish style. The rabbi’s children were the naughtiest little rascals I had ever seen and they kept us entertained right through dinner. 

            Once the first course was over, the men went back into the prayer room. Michelle told me that there would be more food to eat. Having eaten our fill in the first course itself, Michelle and I excused ourselves and returned to our respective guesthouses. The village looked very different and deserted in the dark, and after losing myself and roaming down several unlit paths, I asked directions to Pink House. It turned out that I had wandered quite a distance away. Making my way through a field, I finally found Pink House, trudged up the stairs and retired to my room. After writing for a while, I decided to call it a day and crawled under my blanket, falling asleep in half the blink of an eye.