SIKKIM - DAY ONE : INTO THE UNKNOWN

          Thus it began. Alex's wedding was a beautifully planned affair. With my flight at 11 a.m. the next day, we didn't stay very late and returned to Veeresh Malik Uncle's house in Delhi where we stayed the night. An hour's packing and good night's sleep later I was ready to take the fifth smallest state in the country by the horns. Uncle and Aunty dropped me to the airport since their daughter's arrival from England coincided with my departure for Bagdogra, both even being from the same terminal. A quick farewell followed and then I was on my own, setting course into the wild.

              Admiring the architecture of Delhi airport, I made my way into the lounge. Tara had convinced me the previous night to carry only bare essentials. My shoulders silently thanked her and, almost to prove a point, I decided to carry the now diminished luggage as hand baggage. Since we were travelling from Delhi to Bagdogra over the Himalayan foothills, I asked the Air India lady printing my boarding pass for a window seat on the left side, anticipating some breathtaking views of snow clad mountains rising through the clouds. However, luck wasn't on my side as I was informed that every single left window seat was already booked out. I was given a right window seat instead, so I resigned myself to gazing over the endless Gangetic plain instead of the mighty Himalayas.

             The flight was only a wee bit delayed and soon we were airborne. Despite what seemed like some funny noises from the starboard engine during the climb, we were soon cruising eastward, in line with the tallest mountain peaks on the planet. A standard Air India lunch served by particularly old air hostesses was devoured and before long we were descending into West Bengal. As the main wheels impacted the tarmac, I was jolted awake and quickly locked my harness, surprised that I hadn't been told to do so already. The plump old lady seemed secure and content in her own harness, a permanent frown etched onto her face. As we taxied in, I saw Air Force helicopters operating from the far end of the small aerodrome. Bagdogra airport was a small affair and, not having to wait for checked in luggage was outside within minutes. 

            Though there were cab and auto drivers clamouring for my attention, I decided to try something a little different. I picked the lone cycle rickshaw in the melee and boarded it. The road leading away from the airport was a gentle climb and I felt sorry for the old man who was pedalling, and offered to walk the stretch, but he said it wasn't necessary. The moment we hit the main road, the gradient altered in our favour, easing the guilt associated with my eco-friendly choice, and soon we were making good time heading towards Bagdogra Town along a tea garden lined country road. There was considerable Army presence in this area as a result of it being a strategic 'Chicken's Neck' so close to the Chinese border, connecting the North East with the rest of India. Soon we arrived in Bagdogra Town where I hopped off the rickshaw and onto a mini-bus filled with school children returning home. 

Dry Riverbed in Siliguri

         A thirty minute journey brought us to Siliguri town. As I disembarked, I was greeted almost immediately by a very short man advertising rooms for rent. Deciding to trust and go with him, a short walk brought us to the Hindustan Hotel where I checked in and was shown to my room. The rooms were small, clean and simple. Leaving my rucksack here, I decided to have a look around town. 

Hubbub of Hong Kong Market

               Starting with the railway station, I discovered that the toy train to Darjeeling was temporarily not operating from Siliguri due to a fault in the tracks. The train now only plied the last stretch from Kurseong to Darjeeling. Deciding to take a morning bus to Kurseong the next day, I made my way to the second attraction of the town, Hong Kong Market. Almost invisible from the main road, the market turned out to be a maze of gullies thronged with hawkers and shopkeepers bargaining with and quoting prices to the sea of humanity that flowed endlessly by. Apart from the multitude of clothes' shops lining the streets, there were an unusually high number of music shops selling guitars and other instruments and accessories. After spending about an hour wandering the streets of Hong Kong market, I decided to head back. 

Hail in the Heat

         Boarding another cycle rickshaw, we had just set out when the menacing clouds burst and mighty rain drops came thundering down. The driver and I abandoned the rickshaw and found shelter. Soon we realized that something was different. It was hailing as well! Though the rain only lasted a few minutes, it brought with it a chill in the air and all of a sudden I was missing my jacket. As soon as we arrived back at the hotel, 

Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner 

            I stepped into a restaurant nearby and had a bite to eat. Like Kerala (and unlike most other states of the country), rice was the staple diet here in West Bengal. In a little while I returned to the room, quickly made a couple of phone calls, washed some clothes, had a bath and changed before settling down to write about the events of the day.