24 Mar 2016

Manali I - Woohoo, mountains!

Did I tell you about that time I went to Tibet and met the Dalai Llama? Good, because the closest I got was the lower Himalayas and people there were not so much enlightened as just plain lit.

After about 10 days in Delhi I felt like I deserved some peace and quiet for once. Some guys I met in the hostel had mentioned Manali, a small town in the lower reaches of the Himalayas, which was apparently downright divine. That sounded about right to me, so I visited one of the many travel agencies clustered around New Delhi Station. After some haggling I managed to get a ticket for the 14-hour bus journey up into the mountains. 14 hours for 550km, that comes to about 40km/h. Great. On top of that the ticket was hand-written onto a block of greasy receipts which looked so dodgy that I asked my local friend Arko if that was even going to get me on the bus. Apparently it was. I wasn’t entirely convinced there was even going to be a bus but that’s just because I’m a half-empty kind of guy.

Arko graciously accompanied me to the bus stop the next day and together we stood in the blistering afternoon heat and waited for a coach which was about to turn up really soon, probably, eventually. To my great surprise - not his though! - a coach did turn up barely an hour later and I got on board without any problems. The conductor gave me a seat in the last row - not good - and between a very talkative local teenager and two Israeli girls.

The first two hours of our journey were spent on just getting out of Delhi. Yes, I knew that Delhi is home to about 20 million people, and yet the geographical size of the metropolitan area surprised me. Eventually the scenery became more suburban, interrupted by the occasional industrial park. The sun set as we finally left Delhi behind us. I spent a few moments getting annoyed by the fact that the Israeli girls had their shoes up on the seats. Sure, this seems picky in a region where garbage disposal follows the “chuck-it-in-the-streets-and-set-it-on-fire” paradigm (also applicable to the deceased - and sometimes also the diseased), but come on! Take your shoes off the cushions you filthy peasants!

I protected myself against the onslaught of small-talk emanating from my other seat neighbour by jamming my earphones right into my eardrums, turned up the volume and watched the countryside swoosh past. After a while I just dozed off and didn’t wake up until it was properly dark and the bus was twisting it’s way up a mountain road. Sitting in the back of the bus, I was thrown left and right at every turn like a pale, increasingly disgruntled pendulum. Since the road mainly consisted of potholes, I also got to spend about an hour being bounced up to the roof before crashing back down into my seat.

Sidenote: My friend Hayden would later tell me of a bus trip in Myanmar during which three different people threw up on him. That in mind, a bit of bouncing-around doesn’t feel so bad.

Around 22:00h the on-board entertainment system was switched on and I got to the enjoy “Bajrangi Bhaijaan”, two and a half hours of action, singing, dance and drama. Here, have a taste!

As the bus was merrily crashing through the mountains, the driver had dialled up the volume to 11. That didn’t exactly help me because the movie was in Hindi but I certainly enjoyed the song-and-dance scenes. Eventually I pulled my trusty travel blanket over my head and passed out. I only woke a few times when a particularly deep pothole caused me to slam back into my seat.

When I did wake up, it was because the driver had stopped at a restaurant/gas station/shack around 05:00h. I felt fairly groggy but got off the bus because I was curious where we had arrived. Outside, the scenery was amazing: The road passed high over the Beas river which ran deep in a canyon below us. All around me the mountainsides were steep and full of lush greenery.

First sunrise in the lower Himalayas

The sun hadn’t risen above the surrounding peaks yet and hazy light shone through the fog covering everything around us. Watching the landscape peel itself out of the haze in slow-motion felt incredible. It was only then it really hit me that I was actually in the Himalayas. Yes, yes, lower Himalayas, shuddup, I’m having a moment here! Despite the early hour I couldn’t help but grin at the thought of just how far away from home I was.

The rest stop

A few moments later a look at the toilet facilities wiped that grin off my face. Far away indeed.

When I got back on the bus, we followed the Beas river for several hours. The valley contains dozens of small towns, one after another like links on a chain. Some of them are tiny hamlets built on the sheer drops, others - like Kullu - are proper cities including an airport. For the remaining drive, I sat with my face glued to the window, soaking up the fantastic landscape and the views. The few pictures I managed to take from the moving bus really don’t do justice to the scenery that unfolded before me.

Around 09:00h we finally reached Manali bus station, basically an empty lot right next to the river and full of tour buses. As soon as the first passengers disembarked, a horde of tuktuk-drivers gathered around them. I just got off, grabbed my bag and stepped aside for a moment to take a breather. It was then that I observed a young Russian perform an act of masterful tuktuk management: He turned to the crowd of drivers and yelled “Okay, who wants to drive me tup to Olive Garden for 50 rupees?” One by one the drivers turned away from his low-ball offer and other tourists promised much better business. But eventually one driver stepped forward and agreed to take him up on his offer. I stood amazed. What a lession in market efficiency!

Downtown Manali

Boris and I started talking and when he heard that I hadn’t decided where to stay, he offered me a ride. Turns out that he had been to Manali eight times already and always stayed at the same place. Entirely convinced I got into the cab and we drove up through the centre of Manali and further up onto one incline overlooking the town. At first glance the town looked strange: Many buildings were half-finished, most roads covered in mud and trash. Most stores seemed to be either travel agencies or restaurants and cafes targeted at tourists. At the same time the view of the area was stunning. Boris told the driver where to stop and together we walked up a small path (full of mud) to a building which was half-finished and half…concept.

The view from my room

Here, Boris sought out the owner and affectionately yelled at him until he grudlingly accepted Boris’ suggestion that I really should be allowed to get a double room for about 3 USD per night. This sounded just fine to me, so I dumped my bag in my new room and then enjoyed the view from my balcony for a bit before heading into town for a late breakfast.

Until next time,
Arne