Damn, everything is a picture

7 – 9 May 2019

I left you last in Rishikesh (where no one deserves to be left.  I am sorry), with us on our way to a hike.  The next leg of our travel was a 7-hour bus ride to Uhkimath.  It was mostly uneventful and hot, but we did get the front 3 seats, and the driver would not let anyone sit next to the 2 of us.  It could have been because it would block his view of the side mirror.  We thought it was because we were such lovely people. 

Why go to Uhkimath?  What is there to see in Uhkimath?  Well, not much.  It’s the closest main “town” to Chopta, where our hike would start.  The only thing that happened in Uhkimath worth noting is that a person, who said he was “a stealer”, stole our friend’s phone (surprise) when he accidentally left it lying around.  Weird sidebar, for a weird little place.

The Himalayas from Uhkimath.
Wait though, there much better Himalaya pics coming

The next morning, we caught (another) bus, about 45 minutes, to Chopta.  Chopta is the base for the start of the Tungnath trail.  After a quick breakfast, we started our hike, and shortly all our travels (13 hours in transport, 3 busses and 1 hitchhike) and struggles (Rishikesh) that went with them were forgotten.  What a beautiful place.

Chopta

Pre-hike brekkies, Chopta

Paratha and curry

Entrance to Tungnath trial.
Let's go hiking

You walk past, and through, rolling green hills, and can drink freshly melted snow-water from the streams.  The freshness of the water gives it almost a heavier feeling, but oh, so refreshing.  The hike is easy, as the path is cemented, but starting at an altitude of 2,600 metres, you feel the climb.  The most breath-taking part is the clear, unobstructed views of the Himalayas, getting closer and bigger, as you traverse the 2 hour walk. 

The trail

Getting better hey?

Messing about on the cliff's edge

The valley below

Luckily, we arrived the day before the official tourist season opens, so the trail was relatively quiet, with very few other people on it.  What was even more lucky was that of the houses that you could stay overnight in, only one was open, and it was free.  Our host was there a day early to prepare for the season.  Him and his brother live on the mountain for the 6-month season, and go back home only in winter, when the snow is too heavy, and the pass is closed.   

Home for the night

Our dining room

After settling in, and having had lunch overlooking the mountains, we hiked up to the Tungnath temple (surprisingly, also the name of the hike).  At 3,680m (higher than the Drankensburg), it’s the highest temple to Lord Shiva in the world, and supposedly 1,000 years old.  We spent the rest of the day relaxing on the hills and cliff faces.  Apart from the simply incredible views, what was so amazing was the silence of the place.  At such a height, without any other travelers around, it was dead quiet.  In such a place, with the warm summer sun on our faces, napping just off the cliff face, it was a feeling and experience I hope to never forget.  

Walking to the edge

Can almost touch it now

Looking down

Just......yah, exactly

As the sun sets, and the winds pick up, warm and pleasant turns to very cold.  Fun activity: you can get sun burnt and then frostbite in the same day.

We huddled around the kitchen fire in our host’s room for supper and then quickly into bed under many blankets, though not before taking a small detour to view the stars, unspoilt by any artificial city light.  How cold you may ask?  I did not know the temperature, but I slept in a tracksuit, in a duvet cover, in a sleeping bag, under two blankets – so pretty cold.

Warming around the kitchen fire

Dinner

We woke up at 4am to get up to the Chandrashila peak, the highest point of the trail, at 4130m, to view the sunrise.  The cold from the night before had frozen up the small streams that flowed the day before. 

4am, let's go hiking

Hike to Chandrishila peak

Chandrishila peak at sunrise

So how was sunrise over the Himalayas?  Epic.   

Sunrise at over 4000m 

Told you it gets better :)

Let's go hiking

7 – 9 May 2019

Following my unsuccessful first stint at trying to volunteer, I managed to round up the volunteers and one of the hosts to do a hike.  Having lugged all this hiking gear to India, I felt I might as well put it to use.  Everyone was keen, and the host had an easy hike in mind, which he thought would be a good introduction to hiking (or trekking as they call it here) in India, also considering we would be trekking at altitudes upwards of 4000m.  With us not having any meaningful opinions to contribute, and all wanting to do some exploring, we agreed to follow him blindly.

Travelling to the hike presented a slight problem.  One volunteer and the host get travel sick, and we were (as we were soon to learn) in for quite a bit of travelling.  It was decided (for us, owing to the aforementioned blind following) that they would travel on his scooter.  The other volunteer and I would take public transport. 

No problem, we thought.  However, as we realised what leg 1 (of what was to be many legs) was, we thought, ok, maybe a little problem.  Firstly, the hostel was about 1,5km to the main road, where we would need to catch a bus.  We had to walk, with all our bags.  Sad face.  Anyway, we made it to the main road unscathed and full of all the joy and wonder and energy that a new adventure brings.  Though, after an hour of waiting for a tracker to pass that would pick us up, the joy, wonder and energy levels began to fade. 

Blissfully unaware how much travelling
we have in front of us

Look at all the transport available

In broken English, the locals told us that it was wedding season (it was a Monday morning) and therefore all the trackers would be full of guests from other main cities, travelling to all the weddings that were taking place now (on a Monday morning).  We knew there was a bus in about 45 minutes, but thought to try hitch a ride to the next city – Chamba, as it was only about 45 minutes away, and if anyone is travelling on this road, it really only leads there.

It was worth a shot, while waiting for the bus, and surprisingly one of the first cars we tried to catch stopped.  This could have been because of the Swedish girl I was travelling with... Ok, let’s not kid ourselves, this was the reason.  In an event, we hopped in and this very nice man took us to Chamba.  We chatted a bit, but his English was poor and our Hindi non-existent, so we rode mostly in silence.

Arriving at Chamba, we got onto the first bus that was announcing that it was going to Rishikesh (yes, grrr, Rishikesh again, my nemesis).  That bus then kicked us off, because they decided they were no longer going to Rishikesh (I mean obviously, who the hell would want to go to Rishikesh).  So, we got on another bus.  This driver, obviously resenting that he was going to Rishikesh, stopped several times and got out the bus, seemingly reconsidering his life choices each time.  And when he was driving the bus, he made sure to hit every bump and uneven surface, to put everyone in the appropriate mood considering our destination.  What was a pleasant, 2-hour ride coming to Chamba, was anything but leaving.

Now you may be thinking, Ryan, why are you giving Rishikesh such a hard time, come on man, it’s not that bad.  Not that bad?  Not that bad, you say? 

So, we arrive in Rishikesh in the afternoon – too late to catch another bus, and I need to withdraw money.  We meet our travel buddies, who have found us a place to stay for the night.  I put my stuff down, and see an ATM right outside our accommodation.  Yay, I think.  No, not yay.  This is Rishikesh, so obviously this ATM is not working.  Our local friend that we are travelling with knows of another one, so I hop on the back of his scooter and we drive 10 minutes out of town to the next ATM (there are others in between, but he already knows that are not working – and have not been working for a long time).  I arrive at one, where there is a queue (because there are very few working ATMS in what is a very cash-based city).  He leaves me to wait, while he runs a few errands.

Queuing in an orderly manner in India is a luxury at the best of times, so I did my best to stand my ground, and was doing quite well to repel line cutters.  I was patiently waiting for 45 minutes while each person took their turn.  Note, there were not 100 people in the queue.  Either the ATM, or the ATM-user was very slow. Anyway, there I was, waiting patiently, and I get to the front of the queue.  Yay, I thought.  No, not yay.  A very drunk, very dirty rat pushed his way through and went into the booth ahead of me.  His poor, dirty, rat karma though immediately rubbed off, as after bumbling through the process, the ATM decided it had enough for the day, and stopped working (in the middle of his transaction – hah, take that you ass).  However, this had the unfortunate consequence of all of us who were waiting to also have to leave, empty-handed.  Rishikesh isn’t that bad hey?  Wait in a queue for an hour, after driving out of town, to only get to the front and have some drunk buffoon break the machine.

What was the best part of your trip?
Queuing 45 minutes for an ATM?

We had to drive another 10 minutes, further out, to another ATM machine, to withdraw cash.  When we made it back, it was dark, so we went for dinner, and settled down, to ready ourselves for another long day of travel, and more legs, to get closer to our destination. 

Volunteering: attempt 1

28 April – 6 May 2019

Contrary to my expectations, and somewhat to my disappointment, when I spoke to the two volunteers already at Nama-Stay, they mentioned that there was not much volunteering to be done.  There was a roof that needed to be painted, but there was no paint at the moment.

Sunrise over the Himalayas, Kanatal

My first volunteering gig, from a volunteering perspective, was therefore not as inspiring or 'make the world a better place', as I had hoped.  This however did not detract too much from my experience there, and had a great week living in as rural a North Indian mountain village as I think you can get (India is rapidly developing – with all the good and bad that goes with it – I think these villages will disappear quite soon, to be replaced by towns or touristy spots).

Turning the mountain into farmland,
Kanatal

I did do some volunteering though, and tried to help where I could.  Paint did eventually arrive, and one full afternoon was spent touching up the roof.  Having never painted, I learnt that thinners (turpentine) makes painting a whole lot easier, and makes the paint last far longer.  However, once the can of paint was finished, no more was forthcoming, so the roof remained only partly touched.  I also cleared out a room that had come to be used as a storeroom.  Last year it was used as a kitchen, and eating area, but was recently used as a kennel when the pet dog had puppies, and then gradually just became a room where stuff was stored (transforming it into a storeroom).  This took a day too, and was probably the most meaningful contribution to the homestay – although, we did not really use it after.

Cleaning out the storeroom, Nama-stay, Kanatal

Cleaned out storeroom, good hey?
Nama-stay, Kanatal

Roof that needed touching up,
Kanatal

We collected some wood, to make fires at night, but after the second night, the mountain winds and rains prevented much firing making, as it was far more comfortable to sit inside.  Otherwise, which made us feel quite guilty, we were taken care of by the hosts, with traditional Indian hospitality, which consisted of being made countless cups of tea, and really, amazing food. 

The real attraction of the place though was the village life.  This however does present some minor inconveniences.  Being on a mountain, water is scarce, and infrastructure is poor.  When it rains, blows, or the man controlling the switch feels like it, the electricity cuts out.  This can last a few hours, or days.  So much, that when the electricity is mercifully supplied by the man controlling the ON switch, even for 10 minutes, their is much wild celebration and dancing, amongst the frantic rush to plug in as many devices as possible.  

The homestay’s primary struggle though was water.  The main water tank is filled by the government every few days.  However, this sits on the main road, about 1,5km away.  They have built a pipeline to a main tank on the homestay property, which in turn fills two tanks: one to the main house, and the other to the outside, western toilet.  The water moves to these tanks via electric motor.  All sounds good – in theory.  However, almost every day the hosts battled to get this system working.  Between electricity cuts, and motors malfunctioning, and many trips back and forth between the main road and the house, water flow, at best, was transient.  I wonder what happened to the next round of volunteers as when we let the main tank on the property had not been filled for three days, and getting a 5L bucket manually filled to fill up the two smaller tanks took 12 minutes of dripping water (as our main tank was dangerously low).  Someone should really go check up on them.

Besides for fleeting electricity, and scarce water, the place was magnificent.  The homestay is perched on top of hill, where nights were spent watching the sunset over distant mountains.  On the road, you can get an unobstructed view of the Himalayas, which look even better at sunsrise, and a short climb up to the watchtower gives you even better views of the whole area.

The crew, on top of the watchtower, Kanatal

Sunset from the watchtower, Kanatal

The one day we hiked up to the top of a hill where the Surkanda Devi temple sits at 2,700m.  The temple is famous for .... (can't remember), but is a nice hike up dense forest, with amazing 360 degree, unobstructed mountain views at the summit.

Forest hike to Surkanda Devi temple

Scoping the route, Surkanda Devi temple hike

Viewing the Surkanda Devi temple from the end of the hike

Surkanda devi temple close up

The locals are friendly, and despite the language barrier, if you walk past their house, they will invite you into their modest home for a cup of tea.  Life for the villagers is spent turning the mountain sides into farming area, cooking, and collecting water (there is a stream nearby).  We had one local lady cook us lunch and dinner at the homestay, and her food was outstanding.  She would arrive, say hello, and go into the kitchen, where one heard gushes of water, clanging, cutting, and chopping.  She would then emerge, about two hours later, with a feast. 

Want to be taken seriously as a villager,
got to get some goats,
Kanatal

 A cup of tea at our local cook's house,
Kanatal

Walking through the village, Kanatal

However, lounging around can only last so long, so my two week stay was cut to just over one, and with the volunteers and one of the hosts, we organised a hike further south.  

Nama-stay guest house,
Kanatal

Why not have another sunrise over the Himalayas, Kanatal

Arriving to Kanatal: Nama-Stay

28 April - 6 May 2019 

The purpose of this year off / #sabbatical was to volunteer. Sure there is the added benefit of seeing a new country, taking a looong holiday, growing a beard, retiring early, eating more curry than I could have ever imagined, and being very lax on personal hygiene, but other than those, it was to volunteer.

The idea of being able to contribute to people's (I'm not sure where the apostrophe goes here) and communities' (this one I know I have smashed) existence, well being, or prosperity in a real, direct and tangible manner excited and pushed me to take the step to start this journey I find myself on.

It was therefore with all the gaggles of excitement that I could muster that I climbed on board the bus to my first volunteer gig, in the mountains of Kanatal. Leaving the ashram was sad, so so sad, and made even worse that I had to travel back to Rishikesh to catch my bus (see previous posts on my feelings towards Rishikesh), although it was only to its bus station.  Still though, Rishikesh, you bastard.

The official ticketing system on the bus.
Once the bus has left they just write a price on and tear it.

Local buses with friendly people

You've never been crammed into a taxi,
until there has been 16 people in it

A 1 hour tuk tuk, 2 hour bus, 1 hour tracker (a 4x4 converted into an 8-seater taxi, which had 16 people inside) and I arrived in Kanatal. Small side note, when you squeeze 16 humans in a vehicle, the second last thing you want is the baby on the front seat having a vom on its mother (because you a seat back and shrapnel only hit the old lady next to it). However, the last thing you want is the little sister on the big brother's lap who is sitting next to you to turn her head to face away from the vom, in your direction, because she thinks seeing cotch will make her spew too (thank all the gods... like all of them, that I came through that unscathed).

My pick up taxi

First ride on the back of a scooter

I was picked up on the main road by a scooter and had my first experience of riding on the back of one of these.  I would come to experience this as a formal, and accepted form of transport in India, with scooters regularly taking two or three passengers, plus all sorts of luggage.  Later I would learn that my driver bought his license (as, apparently, did most people).

We picked up some groceries (whose weight was weighed by an old-school scale), and we were on our way.  After a short while, my driver casually pointed out the view of the Himalayas, but remarked that it was a cloudy day, and I'll see them much clearer once it rains.

Measuring groceries with an old-school scale,
Kanatal

I was volunteering at a hostel called nama.stay, a small little building, built into the side of the mountain, overlooking its apple orchard and the rest of the valley. I could count about 10 houses. There couldn't have been more than 80 people in the village.

The road to the homestay, Kanatal

View from the porch, with some Tibetan flags, Nama-Stay, Kanatal

Same, amazing view, but from inside, Nama-Stay, Kanatal

I caught a glimpse of a hammock in a tree nearby, as I was ushered inside. I was told to drop my bag and immediately offered a cup of tea. I was introduced to two volunteers who were already there, a Swede and a Finnish girl.

Not a bad place to land, I thought, while being served dinner, and as I was fed and was offered another (one of what would become very many) cup of tea.  I was excited for what work this small little paradise had in store for me.

First sunset, damn son
Nama-Stay, Kanatal