I haven’t had much enthusiasm for the blog this time, it being over a month since my last post. This entry skips a month and comes straight to Sikkim which is a small state in the North East, sandwiched between Tibet, Nepal and Bhutan.
Prayer wheel wall at the Enchey Gompa (Tibetan monastery) in the capital of Sikkim, Gangtok. We went on Holi - a Hindu festival where everyone throws coloured paint powder at everyone. A room of over a hundred young monks found it hard to concentrate on their chanting with us two whities covered in purple paint peering in through the window, so we quickly left them to it.
Changu Lake, the closest part to the Tibetan border that foreigners are allowed (with permits and tour guides) and nearly 4000m in altitude. The ride up was scary as any I’ve ever taken… 2500m in altitude in one and half hour!
Indian bureaucracy at its finest at the Foreigners Registration Office of Gangtok where we had to wait in some Orwellian alternate existence to have our Sikkim permits extended.
The start of the six-day trek to Dzongri (4000m) in one of the most pristine places I’ve yet seen. Those are the two Joe’s (crossbreed between Yak and Oxen) that carried all our food and such. On the last day our yakman let me have a go being in charge of them… grumpy animals at the best of times. I didn’t share his enthusiasm for kicking them full pelt to ensure obedience and quickly passed that job back!
The mountains lived up to their comforting reputation for making us humans feel small.
Dawn at the Dzongri viewpoint with blissfully clear weather (most times the weather was cloudy) and stunning views of Mount Khanchendzongra, the third highest peak in the world.
Some amazing snow storms up there (thank God we stayed in trekkers huts) allowed us to experiment with our cameras’ macro functions in each others hair. As you do.
Another clear dawn looking at a different mountain range.
Happy Joe. Although always up for a fight. We heard that a girl on a trek that started shortly after ours was nearly pushed off a cliff by an angry mob of the creatures.
Rhododendrons just starting to bloom. In April, Sikkim is reputed for being a crazy melange of colour, but unfortunately our schedule isn’t so obedient to the graces of Mother Nature.
A seemingly wild pony taking in the Magnolia.
Our trekking party, left to right: porter, yakman, guide and cook. Damn good cook too. And the most gentle old man for a porter who carried the weight of all the cooking utensils on his neck in the ubiquitous fashion of locals in the Himalaya. I tried it out at one point and gained far greater respect for him. Although our yakman won hands-down for the amount of energy he had. Ex-army where he served in the Tibetan division as a sniper for seven years, and if he is a normal example of the Indian army then just as well India like us.
Tshoka, 3000m in altitude. Another beautiful dawn.
The final walk home. We both miss that trek as much as anything. Although my limbs are happy to return to normal underuse and my belly to meat! And they all eat pork and beef here, being Buddhists rather than Hindus!
Tashiding monastery the day after the trek, the most sacred place in Sikkim. And one of the most mystical places I’ve ever seen. It looks like the very beginning of a tourist attraction, although it is as yet off-the-beaten-track. I hope it stays that way. I find it much better to walk round a place where the locals and inhabitants don’t know what to do with you, rather than how to fleece and extort. I really don’t have much time for Hindu temples anymore, for that reason.
An old man famous among Sikkimese (according to our trekking guide) for carving stones at Tashiding monastery with Tibetan calligraphy. This is his workshop and that is his crazy beard. It was great to have to ask him if we could buy some of his work – the concept of offering it for sale seemed blissfully foreign to him.
Bye!
No comments:
Post a Comment