Spiti Valley - Odyssey by Bus

This existence of ours is as transient as autumn clouds. To watch the birth and death of beings is like looking at the movements of a dance. A lifetime is like a flash of lightning in the sky, Rushing by, like a torrent down a steep mountain.

                                             -Gautama Buddha

Buses are the lifeline of the local people old, young,  women, men, children; all use the bus. If one wants to live the place, buses are the way to go. People, places, food all form a kaleidoscope of experience. So I decided to traverse the Spiti Valley by local buses. I had no fixed itinerary and only a vague notion of the places I would go to.  My route turned out:
Mumbai-Chandigarh by train 28 hours
Chandigarh -8 hours- Karcham -1h 30m- Sangla -1h 30m- Chitkul -5h- Reckong Peo -30m- Kalpa -14h (incl 6h halt at a landslide at Spillo)-  Kaza (Force Traveller 10 seats)-11h- Manali -10h- Chandigarh.

There are mountains astride the narrow roads, mostly barren, the higher peaks snow clad and the ubiquitous river along which the road goes. Buses drive fast but safely, out of necessity local traffic is courteous, stopping and reversing to where the road is wider to allow the other to pass. Here is a local gentleman sitting next to me, chatting and explaining places, customs and the way off life.  He will tell me where to get off.

Everyone has right of way, here goats cross the road while the bus driver waits, though not patiently.  Eager to be on his way, the driver will speed even more on the narrow roads. Our way was blocked by shooting stones at Spillo for six hours, as soon as it opened, the driver took off, driving to Kaza non-stop for six hours.

Bus journeys are long, often 10-12 hours depending on the destination, road condition and weather.  To get to where I am going, I often need to start before dawn.  No matter what time I start, the vistas in the mountains are always breathtaking. The norm seems to be using one's own car or bike brought up from the plains, that is why hotels and homestays are often far from bus stations.  The itinerary of most tour companies are generally a whirlwind, going through the valley in five or six days.  If you have the time and the inclination, I strongly recommend a more leisurely pace.

Early morning buses are often used by villagers to go to the fields and harvest the crop. Since many of the travellers are from nearby villages and meet each other on the way to fields each day, the bus journey gives them time to catch up with local chatter and listen to the   loud music, these are possibly the only restful moments they have in their busy lives.

The seasons are harsh and unforgiving, the crop must be brought in before the icy winds of winter drive cattle into the fields.  In the higher reaches there is but one crop a year and most villagers live on this through the severe winter.  The crop is generally fafda and ogala, the bright red plants making for colourful fields.  Both are grains a type of buckwheat; and every part is used, for human and animal feed.  

There are hubs from where buses go to the lesser villages, Sangla is one such hub.  Everyone waits patiently for a bus to somewhere.  Buses at the hubs are frequent and in some distant places they become once a day, coming and going back immediately.  It is best to enquire the bus timing for a place in that season before going anywhere. Schedules can be changed by landslides and the vagaries of weather. Buses can be regular full sized buses or even small vans as this one at Sangla.

No matter how crowded a bus is, there is always room for more, even the engine cowl is padded to create space to sit. Buses usually start packed with passengers and as people hop off they become less occupied, till somewhere close to the destination there are few people left. Most mainlines have regular buses, specially short routes of about four hours or so.Though there many home-stays and hotels at each location and in between,  I did not know this but had not booked a room to stay in advance.  I never had any difficulty in finding a a room to rest my weary head. The cost of a room spans the spectrum of budgets, one can find a room from Rs 500 to Rs 2500 or even more.  I do not recommend booking accommodation in advance because it is difficult to plan.

...quite literally, music booms out in every bus, all the time. It can be religious music, like when I was travelling early one morning from Chitkul to Reckong Peo; or pahadi music or simply film music.  Carry earplugs if you cannot handle this sound, or listen to podcasts like I did.

The people here are very religious, given the narrow roads and steep hillsides,  the bus drivers are possibly even more religious. Small shrines and large temples dot the road side, and every bus has pictures of deities all over the drivers area.   The bus drivers are good, the buses well sprung and the roads are not too bad so even long journeys though bumpy are not too bad. it is best to sit in the front/middle of the bus, seats around No 15 are the best.

The weather in the mountains is fickle, bright and sunny one moment, it can become grey, cloudy and rain the next. Travel easily, do not have a tight schedule, as landslides, weather or availability of buses can disrupt them. A landslide at Spillo caused me to divert to Kalpa for two days. When I began moving on the third day, shooting stones at the same place caused a delay of six hours. So I skipped Sumdo and went on to Kaza.

Kaza to Manali is a long journey along rough roads, though the very scenic route is through arid high altitude desert and wetlands, the road is generally along the Spiti River upto Kunzum La (4590 metres) and then the Chenab to Manali via Rohtang La.  The journey starts at 0630 am and is by Force Traveller, it reaches at 1700 pm and it is best to take a seat just behind the driver.  

There are few halts on the way, breakfast at Losar and lunch at Battal. from the milestone one sees that the distances are not much, it is the time taken to cover short distances in mountains.  Breakfast is parathas, achar (pickle) and tea; lunch is rice, rajmah and some vegetable. Time and distance dictate a uniformity of action and I found many buses, taxis and private cars stopped at the same places.  Around the corner in both places is literally just that. 
 

“The secret of the mountain is that the mountains simply exist, as I do myself: the mountains exist simply, which I do not. The mountains have no “meaning,” they are meaning; the mountains are. The sun is round. I ring with life, and the mountains ring, and when I can hear it, there is a ringing that we share. I understand all this, not in my mind but in my heart.” – Peter Matthiessen

In the Clouds - Walking up to the Highest Point

Some people feel the rain,
Others just get wet.
-Bob Marley

Walking on the Highest Point trail in Sanjay Gandhi National Park, we truly felt the rain. Some did get wet when it started to rain, they were reluctant to go to the peak, but no sooner were they atop they felt the beauty of the place.

The path up is green every where, the verdant green of the monsoon. Jambhulmal Peak is the highest point in SGNP, and the trail is eponymous. From the car park where the trail started, to the top is an ascent of of about 1500 feet, (approximately 455 metres) over a distance of about 5 kilometres.

About an hour into the walk it began to rain, heavily at times, so we were walking along small waterfalls by the path, this water brought a lot of mud with it, erosion I suppose.

the route up is intermittently a rocky path, surrounded by many hues of bright green...

...through a  gushing stream on the way....

...along the way we go up slick and slippery steps cut by ancients. 

There is water everywhere, brown with eroded soil.  Where it can, it flows, otherwise it puddles.

The vegetation changes as we climb, from broad-leaved trees, flowering teak and wild haldi lower down, stands of bamboo dominate higher up. There are clouds and fog and mist shrouding the top, the legendary view is concealed, but it is wet and beautiful

Irrespective of the vegetation, moss and fern every bit of the way make the path slippery.  More so when coming down when one has to often sit and descend.

On the route down we cross the Kanheri Caves.  Now decrepit and amateurishly renovated, these ancient Buddhist Caves form an elaborate complex which have withstood the ravages of time over centuries.  

It was lovely walk and a wonderful experience.

“After the rain, the sun will reappear. 
There is life. After the pain, the joy will still be here.” 
― Walt Disney Company

Green - the Colour of Monsoon

When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy, And the dimpling stream runs laughing by; When the air does laugh with our merry wit, And the green hill laughs with the noise of it.

William Blake

 Karnala Fort  seen from the air, draped in green. Everything wears a gown of green in the monsoon, the green is bright, verdant, lush and covers every visible inch. 
Water is life.

There are waterfalls everywhere, from this litle one by the roadside, to huge gushers on the hillside. People exult in the water and most accessible waterfalls have crowds bathing in them.  Where thwarted, the water can turn angry, bringing floods, landslides and treefalls.

Though the primary colour is green, other colours emerge also. this single stalk of balsam amidst the grass is possibly the precursor of a riot of  colour.  

In the forest multi-hued flowers  grow in the lush vegetation and lend a colourful air to the sea of green.

These karvi flowers grow after seven years, some mysterious  biological clock ticks away the time and they flower together, entire hillsides take on a purple hue.

It is a time for courting, this Malabar Gliding frog calls to its mate...

...and having found her, they mate, laying their eggs in a blob of foam over water so that the tadpoles fall into the water when they hatch.

The female Giant Wood Spider dwarfs the male, some say that having done, she eats him!!They too breed in this season, and the forest had many webs between branches.  Lately they seem less, some mysterious cycle maybe...

A cicada moults under cover of darkness and waits for its wings to dry before it commences its characteristic buzz

The unwary beware, along with the prey come the predators, here a Malabar Pit Viper lies in ambush , waiting for that delicious frog to pass by.

Malabar Pit Vipers are of many colours (morphs as they are known), green and brown are the more common colours.

Everywhere everything is growing, a seed is left behind by a bird and a fern grows in a wall

Water everywhere....  it collects in old buildings like this derelict but magnificent cathedral in Vasai...

...and wets the fresh plants and fallen wood in the forest, water is the giver and taker of life.

Water collects on roads, ponds and lakes, many of which have been dry during the summer and now thirstily soak the drops.

And when it rains on your parade, look up rather than down. Without the rain, there would be no rainbow.

Gilbert K. Chesterton

Sunrise Atop Korigarh

Each and every day we are blessed with on this Earth begins with one. We may not yet be awake, and it is sometimes hidden from view by cloud, but it is there nonetheless.
-anonymous

The citadel of Korigarh (or Koraigarh) is imposing when approaching from below.  This is not a large fort, about two kilometres radius, but it is interesting in that it is one of the few forts where one can see the sunrise over the Sahyadris. The day I went there, the clouds obscured the horizon, but it was a blessing in disguise, the rays peeping from the clouds were beautiful.From here one can see Tung, Lohagarh and Visapur forts.

The Ganesh Gate appears after a sharp bend in the approaching steps.  Most forts have a sharp turn just before the main gate, this makes it difficult for an attacker or his elephants to generate momentum when rushing the gate.   The stone placed by ancient artisans were so finely cut and positioned that there was no need of cement or any binding material between them.  In an attempt to spruce up the fort, much of the original fine stone-work has been replaced by concrete.

The sunrise is beautiful to behold from the eastern rampart. The original bastions have worn down and at many places are barely two feet high.  There are two lakes and many storage cisterns on top of the fort. Water was life in these forts, particularly during a siege or in summer, so there was always a vast system of underground cisterns to store water.  Below the  eastern rampart is Aamby Valley with its two lakes, once an elite township, it now wears a sad  and decrepit air.  These lakes reflect the sky and make for a lovely view.

An ancient cannon, once the proud arbiter of history, now a mute sentinel.  This one is known as "Laxmi Tope" and is the largest of those I saw. These cannon would have hurled shot many miles at attackers, an intrinsic part of the defensive battle. There are five or six cannons on top, two are long range guns and the others appear to be siege mortars.

Where once fierce soldiers patrolled, there are now a colony of macaque monkeys.  Fed by tourists and the leftovers of the food of local workmen, they are now aggressive and view humans as a source of food.  These macaques and other animals in close proximity to humans are fast losing the ability to forage and eat their natural food.

The entrance to the Koraimata mandir beckons the devout.  There is regular worship at this and other mandirs dotting the fort plateau, however the presence of workers and the possible inaccessibility have given them a rundown appearance.  The once pristine pond next to the mandir is now clogged with bottles and  other tourist detritus. 

A mighty siege mortar now has a toothless gape at the picnickers who carelessly fling wrappers and plastic around.  Inaccessible and difficult to climb forts were the backbone of the military system. Generally one could see other forts from the top of one fort, a useful way of calling up reinforcements in the days prior to electronic signalling. A fort could only be captured by long, often years, of siege or by treachery.  It was guns like these that gradually  eroded the primacy and dominance of forts 

A bell summons the faithful....
Soldiers , by their very life and death vocation, are intensely religious. So one finds many temples on the way up to and in forts.  The patron  goddess of this fort is Koraidevi, though there as many as seven visible temples dedicated to Shiva, Vishnu and Ganesh among them.  Many of these places of prayer are still in use and periodic gatherings are common. 

A lone tree grows out of the once proud stonework of Korigad fort, its bastions and turrets now shrouded in vegetation, monkeys, and the ubiquitous  tourist, many of whom with a careless flick leave behind indelible ecological scars.  The path up and the top is littered with bottles, wrappers and food-containers. I urge you to note the words of a  historian who once said;The sanctity of our battlefields, monuments, and veterans institutions is of utmost importance to preserve military history and pay respect to those who fought.