Teresa's phone had a very weak battery, so she had asked me to set an alarm for 6 a.m. The alarm had barely gone off before she had sprung to her feet and started packing. My duty of waking her up done, I crept back into my sleeping bag and went back to sleep. Forty five minutes later, I mustered the courage to face the morning chill and crawled out. Teresa was packed and all set to go. We wished each other luck for our journeys and parted ways, Teresa on her jeep ride to Siliguri, and me to brush my teeth. A bucket of hot water was provided and I had a very welcome bath.
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| Wai Wai Noodles - Himalayan Staple |
Once I was ready, Milan, one of the trek operators called to announce the 8 a.m. rendezvous that we had planned the previous day to discuss the details and cost of the Dzongri trek. He went over the details of the trip clothing, equipment, tents, food etc. and everything seemed fine until he mentioned the cost - Rs. 11,000. Since this was way over my budget, I thanked him and he left. I asked the friendly shop lady for a breakfast of Wai Wai noodles that turned out to be the tastiest noodles that I had ever eaten.
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Helipad in the Clouds
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I chatted with the lady and her husband regarding the best way to go around West Sikkim. They were very helpful and suggested that I trek to the Khechuperi Lake along the shortcut even though it would take four to five hours. Thanking them, I made my way up the hill as I had heard that there was a helipad at the top. A half hour climb brought me to the most spectacular helipad I had ever seen, right at the top of the hill and surrounded on all sides by mighty snow clad peaks towering into the clouds.
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| Distant Destination |
Returning to the guest house, I asked the pleasant owner lady if it would be all right to leave my heavy rucksack at the reception for three days while I went around trekking. Carrying only my sleeping bag, with some essentials included, I reconfirmed my basic geography of the area and set out. I soon realised that the string strap of the sleeping bag cover, not designed for independent carry, was biting into my shoulder.
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Long Trek - Setting Out
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After quite a bit of searching, I found a tiny shop selling a cycling knapsack with two straps. I bought this, stuffed my sleeping bag and a bottle of water into it and walked past the last house in Lower Pelling, from where the downhill trek began. The trek down was quite unusual. Though it was isolated and rough terrain, I kept meeting people and an assortment of animals at regular intervals.
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| Helpful Strangers |
There were several places where I very nearly got lost, and in the process of asking directions, I met several of the local people and their animals in little houses strewn across the hillside. About five thousand steps, several beautiful viewpoints and many hillside streams later, I arrived at the bottom of the steep mountain face. A stony and nearly dry river meandered through the mountains.
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| Angling on the Way |
A couple of boys were fishing in a small pond in the river. Climbing down to the riverbed, I joined them for a while. They lived close by and had come down to the river to wash their clothes and try catching some fish. Trying my hand at it, I soon realised that it was a time consuming hobby and I needed to get a move on.
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| Hanging Bridge |
Crossing the swaying metal bridge across the river far below, I began the climb on the other side. Five minutes trudging up the slope brought me to the main road that led to the holy lake of Khechuperi. Walking along the road, I came to a milestone that read 'Khechuperi 1 km. My spirits soared and there developed a spring in my step.
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The Long March Begins
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Ten minutes later I came to the next milestone that read 'Khechuperi 9 km. I was aghast. How one missing zero could change one's spirits. Anyway, with no other option, I began the long climb up. Being a continuous climb, every kilometer felt like two. Most of the vehicles were headed in the opposite direction, overconfident taxi drivers tearing down the hill for the most part, so I had to be wary not to get run over, particularly near hair pin bends on the narrow road.
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| Anuraddha Ma'am - A Kind Soul |
Along the way, I came across several interesting things. First, I avoided one whole curve of the road, probably over a kilometre, by making a nearly vertical climb up a portion of the mountain face. I had run out of water and was famished when an extremely helpful lady named Mrs. Anuradha offered me some from her kitchen and refilled my bottle for me. She was a teacher and taught English at the local school. As she was heading to work, we walked together till her school a little distance away. I invited her to come and visit Mumbai and we exchanged email addresses before parting ways.
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| Loyal Companion |
The walk up continued. Assuming the last few days had acclimatised me enough, I tried jogging short stretches hoping it would ease the strain on the knees. Surprisingly, it helped. Though a little breathless at the end of each stretch, the load on the knees was shared by the thighs, providing significant relief to the former. At one point, I passed a beautiful cabbage patch by the roadside, which would have brought a streak of envy into even the proudest of vegetable farmer's mind, every single plant laden with a fat cabbage. Soon after that, I met a friendly black dog with one white paw that I played with for a while. He ended up following me for the next two kilometers.
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| Khechuperi Lake |
By now, I was getting weary and stuck my hand out to several cars and jeeps going towards the lake, hoping for a lift but surprisingly not one of them stopped. The walk had begun to become a trudge. The 'Khechuperi 3 Km' milestone that I reached raised my spirits a little but when I came across two more of the same over the next two kilometers, they plummeted again. I had walked another five minutes before a lone biker stopped and offered me a ride. Breathing a sigh of relief, I hopped onto his bike and hitched the last two kilometers to the lake. He had ridden all the way from Jorethang just to do a 'puja' in the lake and intended returning all the way back the same day.
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| Light at the End of the Tunnel |
We reached Khechuperi town, bought entry tickets and walked the half kilometre to the lake. While I focused more on the scenery and serenity of the lake, my friend focused on the 'puja' near one of its banks. Legend had it that the birds around the lake never let a leaf fall on its surface. Sure enough, the stillness of the lake was absolute and there wasn't even a single leaf to be seen floating on it. The panditji near the prayer point mumbled incantations for blessing us and even tied a thread around our wrists.
A little while later we decided to head back. Thanking him once again, I cautioned my friend to drive safely and bade him farewell. Once he had left, I found a little café and ordered a bowl of Wai Wai noodles, my second of the day. While I was waiting for it, I said hello to a lovely British couple, Arthur and Hanna who had come for an evening stroll. They were staying at Sonam's, a guesthouse up the hill. As they strongly recommended it, saying it was a lovely place, I decided to try it out.
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| Baichung Bhutia and his Sister - Great Company |
Once I had downed my noodles, I sat around for a while just soaking up the atmosphere and resting my weary legs. Half an hour later, I began making my way up the hill. I was joined halfway by a friendly fellow. Chatting with him, I discovered that his name was Baichung Bhutia like the former Indian football captain, and that he was Mr. Sonam's son. He was heading to the top of the hill as well.
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| Home Made Harley |
Along with him was his little sister who was returning from school. When he named her school, it seemed to ring a bell. Then it struck me that it was the same school at which Anuradha Ma'am taught, the lady who had offered me water earlier. When I mentioned her, the little girl was visibly surprised and said that Anuradha Ma'am was her favourite teacher. From an hour ago, I told her, she was my favourite too, helping me in my moment of need.
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| Khechuperi Village - Stairway to Heaven |
Chatting away, we soon reached the top of the hill. The place that lay before my eyes was surreal. Quaint little cottages adorned grassy meadows. Little children, dogs, cats and chickens roamed freely. A naughty calf had come loose and was prancing around, being barked at by the dogs. To top it all, the whole setting was right at the top of the hill with the Himalayas towering all around. There was a monastery at one end of the clearing. I met Arthur, Hanna and along with them a few others. After talking to them for a while, Baichung showed me to my room. I dumped my bag, then came and sat outside with him. He was a jovial fellow and intended becoming a trekking guide and helping his Dad with his tourism enterprise.
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| Discussing Matters of the World |
While we were sitting there, a couple of Baichung's baby cousins came jauntily sauntering along. The little girl came and without any hesitation cuddled up in my lap. Her cheeks were chubby and red as tomatoes, adding to the natural cuteness of oriental babies.
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| Superb Company - A Wonderful Evening |
Dinner was called, so we all gathered in the lobby and awaited our food, a very nice conversation developing in the course of the wait. Apart from Arthur and Hanna from England, Ollie and Paula were from Germany, Louisa from Brazil and Ben from England. A delicious vegetarian dinner was prepared and we tucked in hungrily, ravenous after the exertions of the day. Once done with dinner and a cup of lemon tea to wash it down, we sat around and talked about a plethora of topics from travel to politics, and India in general. Nearly two hours of conversation followed, at the end of which the combination of a tiring day and wonderful dinner began to get the better of us and our eyelids started drooping. Deciding to call it a night, we returned to our rooms. Battling to keep my eyelids open, I got out my journal, intending to complete writing about the day's events. I was halfway through when I lost the failing battle and went out like a light, my pen drawing an embarrassing line down the sheet of paper.
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