Varinath farms

22 May - 14 June

For those keeping up, you will remember my first volunteer experience did not contain much volunteering.  Sure, I saw a great place, and met lovely people, and it was in an amazing setting and I did awesome things.  But, if we were scoring purely on volunteration, it was a sure fail. 

I wanted to get my hands dirty, I wanted to contribute, I wanted to heal the world and make it a better place, so onwards to volunteering opportunity number 2.  If one is looking for ‘off the beaten track’ (and I was), Varinath farms couldn’t fit more squarely into that category.  Kind of like putting a square peg into a square hole.

The closest bus stop to the farm is a small village called Damta.  I challenge you to go find Damta on any ’10 things you must see in India’, or ’32 places you need to see before you die’ list.  Now, no disrespect to Damta.  It is a no more to blame for being a small, insignificant village than Denzel Washington can be hated for being perfect (bad example, no one hates Denzel).  We all just play the cards we are dealt.

But I digress.  So, from Damta, where there is no cell signal, I was told to meet at the sweet shop.  This would have been easier if I read the message from the host properly beforehand, which said, "There is no signal in Damta, meet at the sweet shop".  After struggling for 30 minutes, climbing up and down stairs, hanging off the side of buildings, standing on one leg, I got some signal and received the same message from him, which was delivered previously, and duly proceeded to the shop.

The famous Chauhan sweet shop, in the more famous Damta

I found the shop easily (Damta, the metropolis, has one sweet shop), and sat down, waiting for my host, who said he would be delayed, as he was having car trouble.  Drawing many stares, and clearly the source of many conversations among the locals, I sat around for an hour, waiting patiently.  Politely, and despite my intrusion - without explanation - I was left alone by the staff, who had a stranger just come into their shop and sit down for an hour.  I did managed to communicate with the staff there to serve me some food (mostly out of guilt for sitting in their shop for so long) – because I pointed to the plate of someone else who was eating.  But for the most part, I sat waiting.

The host, and his three friends arrived, and after their eating lunch, and some errands in the city, we started on the next leg of our destination – a 16km drive to an even smaller village, called Dhuink.  My host and his friend (the two others boarded a bus in Damta, to Dehradun, in case you were worried) had apparently been hiking for the last few days, in addition to running errands in nearby villages, and were quite tired.  So, we rested in Dhuink for a while.  Arriving in Damta at 12pm, and after all the delays, and resting, we started the final leg to our destination – a 4km hike up a mountain – at 6pm.

At first I thought they were just joking, messing with the new kid, but this was every much a 4km hike a mountain with all my bags, as you can imagine a 4km hike up a mountain with all my bags would be.  In addition to this fact – owing to our late start – we did the final 90 minutes in the dark.  Fun times.  Arriving after 9pm at the farm, I was too tired to view my surroundings, and went straight to bed.

Arising in the morning though, I could immediately appreciate that all the travelling the day before was worth it.  Literally, on top of a mountain, the farm looks out onto rolling hills of Uttarkhand.  There are a few villages in the distance, but this as remote as one could hope for. 

Our rooms / the old cow shed, Varinath farm

View of the apple orchard, Varinath farm

Contemplating life as a farmer, Varinath farms

The farm is little over a year old, and there is much to do, but they have already made some progress.  A pond was dug before the previous rainy season, and catered for the washing and irrigation needs.  From the rooms – which has been converted from what was previously a cow shed, you look out onto wheat and barley fields, and scattered around the farm, and more abundantly lower down, are apple trees – which the farm plans to sell as their cash crop.

Being on top of a mountain comes with its challenges, like firstly being away from any shops or supplies.  Therefore, anything that is on the farm, or that you would like, has to be brought up, which means a 4km hike down the mountain, and 4km hike up, with your supplies.  Also, there is no fresh water.  Fresh water comes from a stream, a 1km walk down from the farm.  This is an easy 20 minute stroll, but a far more difficult 45 minute climb back up, with 20L on your back.  We needed to fill up with fresh water about every 4 days.

Showering and washing at the waterhole

Sharing is caring at our waterhole

Watching the cricket world cup, while the washing dries
(the best signal is at the waterhole) 

Also, as summer had stretched on, and the monsoon was delayed for about two weeks, the pond was drying up fast, so water was used as sparingly as possible, with priority given to irrigation, and therefore, for the most part, showers happened on water collection days too.  However, one soon comes to embrace the natural ways of it all, and being on top of a mountain, really, who cares.

We did though have electricity, provided by solar panels on the roofs of the rooms, and even some cellphone reception, if you stood at the right angle.

Mostly, either the host, or the friend were on the farm, and they directed tasks for the day.  There is also a young caretaker, who is permanently on the farm.  He really does need a special mention, as he was really a great source of entertainment and energy.  Being 23, he had more energy than he knew what to do with, and being from another village (500km away), he had a keen love for the rural way of farm life.  And also, so kind and caring, and happy.  In trying to make you understand Souraj, I can only describe him as straight out of the jungle book.  Whether it was climbing a tree to cut wood, making meals, or general banter, you could see he was so comfortable in his surroundings.  I am so glad to have met, and made a friend of Souraj.  

Souraj, the legend

Some volunteers came and went during my stay of almost a month, there was a militant (Spanish and Swedish) vegan couple, and a digital concept designer from Brazil, but they lasted about a week.  A Frenchman came for about 2 weeks, and had extensive knowledge of permaculture and farming, and had been volunteering on farms for the last two years.  I learnt a lot about permaculture from him.

Farm life, especially on a new farm, is very busy, and again, being on top of a mountain, most tasks are manual.  Chores including fetching wood from the forest (which meant Souraj finding the right wood, Souraj cutting it down, and us lugging it back), which was used for the clay oven as well as construction and other farm related needs; deweeding, which was hours in the potatoe fields; harvesting mustard, learning how to harvest and thresh barley; building and laying floors and a chicken coop from a mud mixture of clay, water, grass, and cow dung, and cow urine for good measure; protecting produce from animals and pest by putting shiny tinsel in trees (which did not work at all) and covering them with nets; and building a big ass new pond (we had a machine digging, but shoveling all the sand out was done by us, and for a 150,000L pond, this works up a bit of a sweat.

Sunny (one of the owners), and me after
a potatoe deweeding sesh

Digging up clay for the chicken coop

Collecting cow dung and urine for the
chicken coop construction

Building the walls of the chicken coop

Harvested and tied
barley bale

The pond digging crew

Post-afternoon digging sesh

This entry is getting long, and really, it would not be possible to explain all my experiences of over a month without writing many pages.  Honestly, I don’t feel like it, and I don’t think you have the concentration span to keep up.

I hope not to forget sitting in the mustard field, or threshing barley, listening to music, being brought apricots by a neighbour, fresh from the tree after an afternoon pond-digging session; brushing teeth at night looking at the night sky; fighting a forest fire (yip 😊); or changing compost toilets after the last one got full (farming isn’t all sunshine and unicorns).

View of the Himalayas from the kitchen

All in all, we worked hard, I got very fit, but it was really fulfilling.  The setting of the place was more than one can ask for, to get back into nature, which made sunrises and sunsets unbelievable.     

Popcorn surprise last meal, for me and Pierre
(the French volunteer)

Sunsets at Varinath farm

Back to civilisation: Dehradun

 10 - 15 May

We had to get back to the city, to drop off our local host, who lived in Dehradun.  After the hike, no one was objecting to having some of the comforts that comes with city life. 

We took our respective scooter vs public transport routes to get to Dehradun from Chopta, which consisted of an overnight stop at a small town called Rudrapryag (2 hours tracker, and 3 hour bus), and a sweep past Rishikesh to pick up our bags (7 hour bus), and a 2 hour bus ride to Dehradun.

After being in India for some time, I have come to learn some trueisms here: 

1) Do not try understand things with logic.  

In the afternoon, we had booked a hotel room in Dehradun online.  Being millenials, we knew, and have a certain level of faith in online bookings.  You choose what you want, you pay, the website confirms such, sends you a friendly email confirming same, and the bank sends you a message that you are a little poorer.  All of these are only illusions of safety and certainty here in India however, as when we were on the bus on the way to Dehradun, the other half of the team (who had arrived at the room via scooter) called to say that the place turned out to be an ordinary, 3-bedroom apartment.  There was no reception, and there were people staying there already.  The contact person (who was not staying there) had no confirmation that we were coming, despite us sending him a copy of ours.

Unwelcome guests.
Oh, and the electricity went out too

So, when we all convened outside the steps to this apartment, at 9pm, after 2 days of travelling, what had become clear was that between the booking agent and the owner, there had been a mix up (we subsequently learnt the owner wanted 2 of the 3 rooms in the apartment booked, which someone had already done – hence the one free room, but if there were people in the apartment already, you couldn’t have the third, free room, although it was still advertised as free.  Really, it is a three bedroom apartment that you need to book out the whole thing). 

2) You have no real idea what is going to be happening in a few hours time 

The guests who were staying there already, were a group of friends, sailors in fact, who had booked out the room to catch up, after all being at sea (I literally can't make this up).  We spoke to them, and they had no problem with us taking the third, empty room.  They did explain that there would be some music, and drinking, as they had not seen each other in a while, and were having a bit of a party.  We were just happy to have a roof over our heads, and accepted their terms and thanked them for their generosity. 

Fast forward a few hours, and what we thought would be, after a long journey, a hot shower, and early night, turned into a full on party, with our new sailor-friends teaching us Punjabi dance moves.  I think we got to bed at 3am?  It’s a bit blurry.

The next morning we thanked our hosts once again, and ventured to find a more permanent residence.  We found a great little homestay, which a son was running while his parents still lived on the property.  Dehradun was where I would be leaving my travelling buddies, as we would all be going our separate ways.  One had to do a visa run to Nepal, the other was going to Dharamsala, and I... well I had to figure out a plan. 

The comforts of the homestay, and being in one place, and also not really having an idea of where to go next, meant that what was supposed to be a few days stay, turned out to be a week.

Outside, chill area in the homestay

Inside the homestay

This though gave me the opportunity to explore Dehradun, and some of its attractions.  The locals have a strong affinity for baked goods, and Ellora’s bakery is famous there, as the finest among the many bakeries that can be found there.  There is also a significant Tibetan population, so I got my first real introduction to Tibetan food, most notably, momos – which are steamed dumplings.

The healthiest thing at the bakery.
Note the are nuts (and lots of sugar),
but sooo good

Lhasa, a Tibetan restaurant

We were recommended to go to a restaurant called Orchards, and went there on an evening with live music.  Oh, the pad thai! Oh, the red thai curry!

Otherwise, like any major city, there are lots of places to eat, and explore.  However, when you know a local, you get a few gems.  Our last night together, our local friend took us to a side of the road cart, where this man makes buntiki.  Basically, a fried veggie burger.  The stall is only open at night, and the queues are said to full the street.  He has to be quick to full all the orders, and well, he is, and the food is great, and for only 20 rupees a buntiki (R5).   

We also went to some parks, and markets, but the highlight was Robber's cave.  This is the main tourist attraction in Dehradun, so we were obviously skeptical of how good it would be. 

Decent spice game
Night market, Dehradun

Night market, Dehradun

3) If you expect something, it will be completely different. 

The story goes that, in the older days, robbers used the cave network to hide and escape with their booty to outside of the city.  The cave has a lot of little twists and turns, but the attraction is that there is a constant river of water flowing through all of it.  We hitched to the cave entrance (because the tuk tuk drivers wanted to rip us off.  Surprise) and you can either rent some slip slops, or go through the cave bare foot.  We chose bare foot, because we thought it would be a short little journey.  However, after spending 2 hours in the cave, walking on rocks, the soles of our feet suffered.  The cave though turned out to be far nicer that we expected, not too full or commerical, and actually a really nice place to have seen.

4) Expect the unexpected.

In a cave, you don't expect to see a river flowing through it, but its plausible.  In the middle of a cave, with a river running through it, you definitely don't expect to find a little café, pumping music, serving chai and maggi, but it's India.  So when we came across this little cart, we had to sit down - at the small plastic table, with our feet in the water - to indulge ourselves.

Disco, disco, inside the cave

Put a cafe in the middle of a river/cave.
Classic India. 

Half way through, we began having second thoughts, about the "rock foot massage" option 

Robber's cave, Dehradun

The week ended up being a perfect amount of time to rejuvenate, enjoy some comforts, and plan for the next part of the journey.  I had arranged a new volunteering opportunity, on an organic farm, and had about a week to spare before my new volunteering started.  There was a friend (from the old volunteering) in the next town, Mussoorie, who was playing at a hotel there every night.  So that was the next.   

Musssoorie and Kempty falls

Mussoorie 15-17 May

Kempty Falls 18-21 May

Waiting on the main road for the bus

I was heading to Mussoorie next, the neighbouring town to Dehradun.  Should be easy to get there, I thought.  The host at the homestay explained that I should just be able to wait on the main road, and catch the public bus as it goes past, on the way to Mussoorie.  They go past every 20 minutes or so. Otherwise, if it didn’t stop (why would it not stop?), I could walk to the traffic circle, to catch one.  Strange?  So, do I wait at the main road, or go to the circle?  No, he was confident that I could catch it on the main road.  So, I waited on the main road, and after 10 minutes, the bus came.  And the bus went straight past.


Ok, that didn’t work, so I walked 30 minutes, with all my bags, down to the traffic circle, standing on the main road leading up to Mussoorie. 

It’s ok, one mistake, one missed bus.  Not the worst start to the day.  After another 15 minutes, another bus came.  And another bus passed.  I tried to ask a local, and they explained that, that was indeed the Mussoorie bus, and I was on the right road.  I couldn’t therefore understand why it wouldn’t stop.  Ok, maybe the driver was just terrible human.  Maybe he didn’t see me.  I resolved to wait for the next bus and make sure the driver sees me.  Another bus arrives after 15 more minutes.  And this bus also passes by.  Hold on, there cannot be two sons of satan, both driving busses to Mussoorie, on the same day.  

On the next quarter of the traffic circle, though, I note that people are getting on a bus (I’m talking about 10 metres away from me).  Let me go stand there?  That shouldn’t make a difference.  A few minutes later, a bus comes, stops, the door opens, are you going to Mussoorie the driver asks?  Yes, thanks, and I get on.  Just another day in India.

Arriving in Mussoorie,
nearly 2000m above sea level

45 minutes later, I’m in Mussoorie, and I need to find a place to stay.  What I had searched online all seemed to expensive, to I decided to try my luck just arriving and searching.  As I step off the bus, an old man asks if I need a hotel.  I confirm so, and ask how much?  100 rupees, he exclaims.  Now, I know this is way too low, and my gut says, don’t follow him, you definitely going to get murdered.  But I am intrigued, and he is old, I can probably take him.  Also, I have travel insurance

We reach the hotel, and I meet the owner.  He mentions the room is 1000 rupees.  Oh, I see what’s happened here (the old man got confused in the little English he knows).  I explain to the owner what I was promised, and after some haggling, and lots of them laughing at the old man’s mistake, we managed to agree on a more reasonable price.

Room for 100, I mean 1000 rupees.
We agreed on 700 :)

Yay, I have a room.  Let’s go explore.  I look online at what is close, and all the sites list Gun hill as an attraction, and a 'must see' viewpoint of the city.   A long, steep climb up, and whoah – what a hole.  The ‘view’ is of the town of course, but said view is obstructed by buildings, electricity cables, and clouds.  The courtyard at the top of the hill has been converted into a kitch, night carnival, which I can only imagine ages 7 and down would be excited by.  Not a good start Mussoorie. 

View of Mussoorie (not from Gun Hill, because that was crap)

Views from Mussoorie terrace (also not from Gun Hill)

People LOVE Maggi here 

The next attraction was a Buddhist temple on a place called Happy valley.  This sounds good.  So, I walked to Happy valley, missed the turn off to Happy valley, and ended up at the Company gardens.  A great mistake however, as these are beautifully manicured gardens, set out 2 km from the busy city.  Although full with people, there is enough place to sit down, and enjoy the surroundings.

Little waterfall, Company Bagh

Gardens, gardens, gardens

The nursery, I think

Plants, plants, plants

There were more roses, but this was the nicest one

Look, a goose.  I mean a donkey?  Skillful nonetheless

Artistic garden shot :)

Having a chill in the gardens

The reason for coming to Mussoorie was to meet with a friend from volunteering at Kanatal, who was playing guitar at one of the hotels here.  The next few days were spent hanging with him, exploring the rest of Mussoorie – there are some nice walks to do – and listening to him play at night.  I also did eventually make it to Happy valley, to see the Buddist temple: Shedup Choephelling - the first Tibetan temple built in India.

My first beer in India, at the hotel

Prayer wheels,
Shedup Choephelling temple

Happiness in Happy Valley

View from outside
Shedup Choephelling temple

Inside Prayer Shedup Choephelling temple

However, Mussoorie is one of the most popular tourist destinations for local Indians trying to escape the intense heat that summer brings to the centre of India.  As the temperatures in Delhi peaked to over 40, and as it was the middle of schools’ summer break, the cooler hill stations like Mussoorie were becoming overcrowded, and bogged down by traffic.  So, three days was enough for me, and I wanted to spend the last few days I had, relaxing, before volunteering started.

Busy, busy Mussoorie.  Time to leave

About 15km from Mussoorie, is a popular grouping of waterfalls, called Kempty falls.  I figured that there was more chance of me finding some calm and peace out that way, than in the city, and boarded a bus.  When I got there, as expected, the immediate area around the waterfalls was crowded, full of tourists, and shops, and rooms.  However, this is a few 100 metres in either direction, and when one peers out, one can see a mountainside with very little going on.  I decided to walk down the hill (because up was back towards town), and after about 500m, I found a hotel (I say found, but it was the only building, standing alone.  You could not really miss it).  It was far enough to be unable to hear the noise and bustle around Kempty, and the room the offered me had a beautiful view of the valley.  A perfect place to go exploring, or read on the balcony, and just chill out for the next few days.

View from the balcony

Trek to the valley

The stream in the valley

A little waterfall in the valley

One of the higher pools,
Kempty falls

Away from the tourists,
Kempty falls

Kempty was a great choice, to get out of the city.  The next few days were spent hiking down to the stream in the valley, reading, and interacting with the locals there.  I even went to the Kempty falls, and once you get past the initial first few pools that are crowded with people, you get to some really beautiful pools, and hiking, with almost no one there.  The highlight however, was fulfilling a bucket list dream, to play cricket in the streets of India, with the locals, which the hotel staff did every evening, until sunset, or until the ball was hit down the mountain.

Waiting for the first ball