Back in town

Back in Madras after a fabulous holiday. Its hot and grimy and dull. The noise of cars and bikes and buses is loud and continuous. Its funny how quickly you get used to the silence, or the sound of wind and rushing water. My lips are healing – which is probably the only nice thing I can say about my return.

I should post some of the notes I took in my exercise book in Leh, but that means some transcribing. Does everyone go through a holiday recovery phase?

One thing I found out – fountain pens survive air journeys, but do not survive high altitudes. My Waterman Carene  lived up to its name in an eruption of blue ink and was abandoned in J & K along with three pairs of sunglasses.

So now I’m back to “work”.  Murali suggested the Andamans for the next trip – complete with glass bottomed boats and scuba diving. Think that would make a good winter stop – because I’m pretty sure I’m hitting Leh again in the summer – doing things better this time around.

One of the things that turned out better than expected were the photographs, given my complete absence of skill with the camera. The one I bought for the trip, the Olympus SP-565UZ did all the heavy lifting, even if it was just a slightly sophisticated version of the point and click variety. And you don’t have to know what half the specs mean. AND it was made in Vietnam.

Of course, the first thing I heard on my last day back was that MJ was dead and the next was that Farrah F had gone with him – and I was all “Leave town for a couple of weeks and see what happens…”

Nubra Valley

Was spectacular. The ride from Leh - via Khardungla Pass brown, wind blown well tarred road giving way to snowbound tracks after about an hour of driving. Shale and limestone. Huge mountain faces marred by snowmelt tear tracks.Drove from hamlet to village and back again, akon's "I wanna fug you" and the vengaboyz? playing infinite loop in the background.Names - Khalsar/Sumun/Hundur/Diskit/Pullu - North and South.The presence of the army everywhere - "This worlds highest motorable road built by the Madras Engineers".The inevitable speed warnings. "If you are married, divorce speed", "Slow Drive Long Life", the hip "Go gently on my curves", the non sequitorous " Know AIDS, No AIDS" and the zen like "Traffic Jam, Yellow Tape, Grieving Family"A section in the menu of the amazing Jamshed Guest house in Hundur - "Snakes". Hot springs and hidden lakes.

And the mountains.

Camel rides - Bactrian camels, not the pilani kind. You sit between humps. Theyr better behaved though. Monasteries - hanging on to mountain walls for dear life. Young monks at a school with a spectacular view singing "Jana Gana Mana". Yaks grazing on riverbeds. Donkeys and beavers (I think).

Coming back to Leh this afternoon was a comedown.

Acclimatization

Well. Here I am in Ladakh. Flew in this morning.The plane was quite full - plenty of firangs, army family types and Delhi rich brat types. - it was cold and windy with a suspicion of a drizzle. The skies were grey. The ground was grey brown and the mountains ringing the view were a grim brown grey.
We went to the ITBF guest house and I met my first Lobsang. The room was small, there was no running water, but the beds were clean .and the chairs comfortable.
Since everyone I talked to about Leh talked about a day of rest before beginning your labours, we crawled into our razais and slept till two. We were woken by a enthu Ladakhi who said we would miss lunch.
Lunch was simple and really good. Took a walk down the main market road afterwards. Half the road is given up to parked jeep/wagon type vehicles. The road is lined with shops selling "100% pashmina shawls" for Rs. 100, genuine tribal handicrafts, antique shops with taglines like "Where your dreams come true", shops called "La caverne di Ali Baba" and "Alladin's cave", eateries called "Pizza de Hutt" and "Garden Restaurant - lonely planet recommended" , Punjabi Dhabas that promise breakfast, lunch and denar, Tibetan market stalls selling croc offs and shops promising trips to Zanskar and Tso Morari.
The roads are full - backpacking firangs, imperious looking army women , Lehi schoolboys in sweaters and ties, teenagers wearing Green Day t-shirts, pretty Ladakhi girls giggling.
Walked around for about a couple of hours looking at the bullet motorbikes on hire, mountain bikes in shop windows, books on the Himalayan kingdoms displayed with pride in dingy bookshop windows.
Then I chickened out and decided to return to the guest house for further acclimatization - especially since the night before was spent in Delhi airports terminal 1 D.
Tomorrow we go to Nubla valley. I wonder if I should buy a notebook.
It would probably make more sense - considering that the internet connection in the shop I'm in has just died.