we found snow in India

We're back in Delhi. In contrast to our return from our previous trip, to Agra/Jaipur, which made Delhi look like a tranquil spa resort, this time we're a little sad to be back. Shimla and Mcleod Ganj were both incredible. The latter in particular felt like a place one could really settle into and kill a few more days, weeks, months, years....

In order to reach Shimla, our first destination, we had to take a train to a town called Kalka. There we (barely) caught a 'toy' narrow-gauge train that zigzagged its way up the mountains on a four-and-a-half hour journey to Shimla. This train was in itself remarkable. It was very narrow compared to your average railcar, and the windows on either side were intentionally made larger, so as to afford the best view of the surrounding hillsides.

On its way up the mountainside the train passed through a hundred-odd tunnels, the whole time moving at a very pleasant, leisurely pace. Shimla itself felt more like a ski resort than like a town in India. By population it's rather large, but it felt like just a few streets laid out on the mountain side.

Apparently, it was a favorite among British and Indian politicians searching for respite from the summer heat.
We stayed at the Spars Lodge, a wonderful family-run place whose only downside is the steep hill one has to climb to reach the entrance. But our hosts, a woman named Preeti and her son, were the most gracious we've had. They kept us pleasant company at dinner (speaking better English their guests), insisted, when we revealed our love for indian food, that we try several dishes and desserts that were not on the menu, lent rachel a hot-water bottle for the colder nights, and even drove us to the bus station in their own car.

The first 'site' we visited was an aviary which, because we are still in the winter season, had more workers in it than birds. Up a hill from the aviary, however (everything was up at least one hill), stood the Viceroy Lodge, a magnificent building used as residence initially for leading British officials (and their guests in the summer months), and later for Indian presidents. It is now a part of a local university, but parts of the building and grounds are still open for visitors. Unfortunately pictures of the interior, which was grand, were not allowed. However, we'll be attaching some pictures of the exterior and grounds.
We hired a taxi for shortly after breakfast one morning, and it took us up to the Monkey Temple, which sits in the forest above the town. Dedicated to the Hindu monkey god, a benevolent being who is said to have brought the mountain on which Shimla rests to its current location, the temple is surrounded, quite appropriately, by monkeys. To reach the temple one has to pass through a wooden archway and walk up a long, flat staircase through the woods.

What the guidebooks did not mention, however, were the two men standing at the base of these stairs, renting out sticks for 'protection' from the monkeys.
The monkeys, it turned out, are not particularly dangerous, but they will, if given any chance, steal your camera, bag, food, etc., right our of your hands. One man we met, who along with his friends helped very kindly to explain the situation to us, had had the glasses taken right off of his face while he was praying. The monkey just ran a few feet away and stood staring, with the glasses in his hand. Fortunately the man had some food with him. When he offered this to the monkey, the monkey dropped his glasses on the ground and scurried off. If they can't get food, they'll take something important instead, and wait for ransom. Shortly before we left the temple, Rachel watched as a monkey stole the scarf off a woman's neck. He ran to the top of the entrance archway and stood there in the most lofty spot, as if taunting her. Though it was at its worst at the monkey temple, this was true of all of Shimla. The grey monkeys with black faces are friendly and like to do summersaults out of the trees, while the brown monkeys with pink faces and big butts, though cute, will snatch a Snickers bar from a baby.

We had a really interesting rendevous with the monkeys at our hotel room which lasted for over an hour.

The pictures tell that one best. We were always sure to lock our windows, however, as they like to scale in packs along the sides of the buildings looking for any food that might be laying around in someone's room.

When it came time to leave Shimla, Preeti, the owner of the Spars lodge, though away at work, insisted on speaking to us by phone and wishing us a safe journey. A truly wonderful host.
We hired a taxi to take us north to Mcleod Ganj. Our driver was efficient on the curvy cliff-side roads, and so the seven-hour-drive took five, and cost us 2250 rupees ($51). We stayed at the Green Hotel for about $5 a night - clean rooms, hot showers and balconies that provided a view of the local mountain ranges and the tips of the Himalayas beyond. The town had a mix of Indians, backpackers, extended-stay tourists, and Tibetans (it and the next town over, Dharamsala, are home to the Tibetan Government in Exile). Everything there moves at a slower pace. We spent a few nights just watching movies in the local 'cinema halls' - rooms with couches or comfy chairs and a very large screen TV, on which the proprietor shows the latest hollywood releases (Brokeback, Capote, Match Piont), probably imported from a truck in Bombay. One day we walked down the mountain road a few km to the center of the Tibetan Government, and visited the Tibetan Institute of Astrology and Medicine. Rachel ordered a horoscope, based on her birthday and birthplace, which will take a couple of months to prepare. The town was also a great place to pick up information for our future travels to Southeast Asia. Most of the travellers we met in Mcleod Ganj had been on the road for a while - it seems to attract long-term explorers, and many of them get stuck. We met a brother and a sister from Japan, travelling the world while applying to art schools in New York, a girl from the States named Heather who is doing a whirlwind solo tour of every continent, and many others.

On our last full day in Mcloed Ganj, we decided to pray for sunshine and make an attempt to climb the local mountain range.

We'd heard about an 8km hike that would take us to a place called Triund with amazing, unobstructed views of the Himalayas. We set out right after breakfast. Along the way we met Neeraj and Jenny, both volunteers with a local NGO. Neeraj grew up with a friend of mine from college, and Jenny grew up in Michigan, just a mile from Rachel (maple and middlebelt!(she went to groves)). If we hadn't have met them we probably would not have made it to the top. We didn't have an exact idea of how long it would take or of what kind of progress we were making. And when the sky around us started to turn into cloud we probably would have had second thoughts.

But the four of us, along with a dog, whom we named Mordechai, who accompanied us almost the entire trip, made a great team.

It's hard to describe just how beautiful it was near the top of the mountain - bonsai-like trees, heavy fog, moss on everything, and snow - but we'll put up pictures at soon as we return to Delhi.

At Triund, the end of our trek, mercifully, there was a chai shop. We had the most delicious Ramen Noodle, white bread and chai lunch you could ever imagine, and we bought an omelette for Mordechai.

We all felt very proud of ourselves having reached the top, but it was the middle of the day, when the snow starts to evaporate off of the mountains, and the Himalayas were hidden behind an all-encompassing cloud. Slowly, however, the fog started to dissipate, and we could see the bases of the mountains, green up to the snowline.

Then rather suddenly a hole opened up in the clouds above where any of us expected the peaks of the mountains to be, and it revealed just a mid-way point on one of the mountainsides - I don't think any of us had every seen anything so large in our lives.

Before we left we did get some views of the peaks, and considering people have climbed those mountains we felt a little silly for having complained about our sore calves and aching backs. We climbed down the mountain with a few other tourists that we had met at the top, and when we arrived back in Mcleod Ganj the Tibetan new years', or Losar, festivities had commenced. During a great Indian dinner at a local restaurant and throughout the night, firecrackers went off at random intervals all across the town.