Large Green Barbet setting up its nest just across from our backyard, end Feb 2010. Below - time for a drink
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Kangra Valley - Birds
Delhi - Birds
White Eye - Also known as Baboona (Hindi), Vellai Kanni or Kannadi Kuruvi (Tamil). Spotted at home in Delhi in mid February (top) and April(bottom).Saturday, February 13, 2010
Footloose in Kangra Valley - 3
Sherabling Monastery - Bhattu Village - Baijnath - McLeodganj - Naddi Village
A narrow road leads from the vicinity of the Sherabling monastery to the village of Bhattu. We follow the road for some time and then take short cuts through Bhattu village. It is indeed a picturesque and prosperous village, looking clean and washed up after the rain. The ubiquitous piles of garbage and plastic common to tourist destinations are missing here – perhaps a sign that there are few outsiders passing through this place. The houses are set among small fields and we identify wheat, mustard, onions, garlic, and carrots all in tiny plots.
The road winds down along the Binwa river carrying melted snow from the Dhauladhars behind us. Walking along an elevated meadow one gets splendid views of the snow clad peaks.
We enter the town of Baijnath after crossing a bridge over the Binwa. A little distance ahead is the 8th century Shiva temple located at a height above the river and offering gorgeous views of the river gorge and the snow clad peaks behind. The temple complex is refreshing – neat landscaped gardens all around and entrances from several directions. It seems that the complex is not just a place for prayer but also an area where people can take a pleasant walk or relax. Behind the temple, there is a steep staircase leading down towards the river far below. Our trek ends at the Baijnath bus stand just a couple of minutes away from the Shiva temple.
We reach McLeodganj after hopping on and off several buses from Baijnath. There has been a snowfall the previous day and the roads are slushy/crunchy. A hotel room on the Dalai Lama temple road sets us back by Rs 500.
The next morning, we enjoy a luxurious ‘Canadian Breakfast’ - scrambled eggs, tibetan toast, tofu, fried potatoes and tea made in tebetan style, all for Rs 85/ - at the cute One Two Café.
One Two Café.
A house at one extremity of Naddi village
A couple of
itenerant Nepali salesmen passing through Naddi pose for pictures. Raju and Biswas request us to send their photos to Dadi. We ask for an address. They say - just send it to Dadi Gaon, Dadi Panchayat. Everybody knows us there. That is what an address means to them. On further prodding, they give us the card of a Block Congress Leader in Panipat who supplies the blankets they sell.
The bus ride back to Delhi is uneventful except for C first loosing his mobile phone – his lifeline – and then a little later, finding it.
A narrow road leads from the vicinity of the Sherabling monastery to the village of Bhattu. We follow the road for some time and then take short cuts through Bhattu village. It is indeed a picturesque and prosperous village, looking clean and washed up after the rain. The ubiquitous piles of garbage and plastic common to tourist destinations are missing here – perhaps a sign that there are few outsiders passing through this place. The houses are set among small fields and we identify wheat, mustard, onions, garlic, and carrots all in tiny plots.
The road winds down along the Binwa river carrying melted snow from the Dhauladhars behind us. Walking along an elevated meadow one gets splendid views of the snow clad peaks.
We reach McLeodganj after hopping on and off several buses from Baijnath. There has been a snowfall the previous day and the roads are slushy/crunchy. A hotel room on the Dalai Lama temple road sets us back by Rs 500.
The next morning, we enjoy a luxurious ‘Canadian Breakfast’ - scrambled eggs, tibetan toast, tofu, fried potatoes and tea made in tebetan style, all for Rs 85/ - at the cute One Two Café.
One Two Café.Later, we walk to Naddi village on tar roads. The village itself, set against the backdrop of the snow clad Dhauladhar’s offers fantastic views of the Himalaya’s and the valley below.
A couple of
itenerant Nepali salesmen passing through Naddi pose for pictures. Raju and Biswas request us to send their photos to Dadi. We ask for an address. They say - just send it to Dadi Gaon, Dadi Panchayat. Everybody knows us there. That is what an address means to them. On further prodding, they give us the card of a Block Congress Leader in Panipat who supplies the blankets they sell.The bus ride back to Delhi is uneventful except for C first loosing his mobile phone – his lifeline – and then a little later, finding it.
Footloose in Kangra Valley - 2
Joginder Nagar - Barot - Bir Tibetan Colony - Sherabling Monastery
Today, we must get to Barot. Buses from Joginder Nagar to Mandi are frequent. We get one immediately after leaving our hotel and get off at Ghatasini which is the point all buses to Barot and beyond must pass through. It is cold and wet and we have a long wait for the Barot bus but our friendly companions at the wayside tea stall make time fly. Our host in Barot, Raj Kumar who runs Sachin’s Home Stay is actually surprised to see us. He has assumed that we would have cancelled our trip because of the bad weather.
Barot is a beautiful place but it certainly turns bleak when it is raining.
Over a lunch of rajma/chawal at a dhaba, we get the perspective of a couple of locals - an army javan on leave and a driver employed by the state government - on the problems they face - lack of jobs and denial of access to wood after the area has been declared a reserve forest.
We visit the dam site on the Uhl (pronounced Uhal) river where the water is dammed and diverted through penstock pipes to Joginder Nagar to drive the power generators. There is a lone official in a cabin warming himself with an electric stove. He invites us in and we dry ourselves.
The dam and power plant are controlled by the Punjab Electricity Board and the power generated also goes to Punjab. The official is responsible for reporting the water levels in the dam to his headquarters. When there is a ‘excess’ water (in excess of the carrying capacity of the plant) in the river due to rains, it is released downstream into the river bed. We ask him if the people downstream are warned. He says that they have a hooter at the dam site which is used to warn people – but of course, it cannot be heard too far downstream. He agrees that if people are caught unawares crossing the river downstream, they will swept away, particulary if it is after dark.
The next morning it is snowing in Barot and our prescient host had hinted at this possibility yesterday. 
Trekking to Rajgundha and then onwards to Billing and Bir – our original plan – is clearly out of question. That is the opinion of several people we ask. So it has to be Bir by road instead.The bus ride to a Bir (pronounced beed) offers its own thrills. The road is blocked by a fresh landslide at one point. A woman passenger gets down, organizes a work gang that includes other passengers and local villagers. With a single crowbar and many hands, the gang manages to push a large boulder off to the side even as earth and rubble continues to come down from the hillside above. The bus continues with its journey on narrow roads at dizzying heights above the Uhl river.
Further on, we acquire an interesting co-passenger. A Gaddi (mountain shepard) wearing a traditional Himachali cap gets on to the bus with a large goat that he is presumably taking to town to sell. The goat is treated as a bona fide passenger.
We arrive in the Tibetan Colony of Bir after walking a few kms from the bus stop on the main highway and take up a room for Rs 250/ in a lodge run by monks in a neighboring monastery. Across the street from the lodge are several Tibetan Café’s. We make our way into Gangchen Zompa Cafe, a cozy looking place filled with Tibetans at this time. The café promises that all the food served is freshly cooked on order. The tomato-egg soup, mutton momos and the tingmo (steamed bread) are really fresh and satisfying and more than make up for the time taken and the impersonal service. The rest of the evening is spent in finding a laundry where we can get our clothes ironed dry (water has got into our haversacks despite all precautions) and getting our new umbrela repaired.
Bir to Baijnath via Sherabling Monastery
It is a wet morning with a dark cloud cover. After a leisurely breakfast we start walking down the Baijnath road.
It is a beautiful road meandering through green fields in open country. The cross country shortcut to Sherabling is a small track on the boundary of a tea garden that takes off to the left after the road crosses the first big nullah.
As we walk along, what would have been a comfortable path has been turned into a small stream by the rain. Beautiful vistas unfold of tea gardens and wheat fields by small villages. Further on, the path enters a forest. The drizzle now builds up into a thunderstorm and the path is no more discernable in the forest; we have it, seems, lost our way. In the distance on a hilltop, there is a lone house standing. We decide to make for it to get renewed directions for Sherabling. Smoke is coming out from a chimney – a welcome sign indeed. The door opens to our knock and a woman peers out and without hesitation asks us to come around to the front door. Over a warm glassfull of tea, sitting in their cozy living room, we get acquainted with our hosts – Sunil Sharma and his mother.
Sunil Sharma (center) and his mother with C, my fellow traveller
We learn that Sunil’s father, employed in the ITBP passed away just a few months earlier. His elder brother works in the merchant navy while his sister works with the health center at the Tibetan Colony in Bir. Sunil himself has trained to be trekking guide but is now preparing to join the merchant navy as a mechanic – a job with better prospects. The rain has petered down to a drizzle by now and we get ready to leave even as Mrs Sharma graciously tries to persuade us to have lunch with them. Sunil walks with us through the forest, perhaps a km, till a point from where the path to Sherabling is clearly visible, getting thoroughly wet himself in the process. It is clear that we would have been hopelessly lost without his help. We exchange contacts and part. The villagers in Kangra have the reputation of being simple, straightforward and very hospitable. The Sharma's have been more than true to type. When my thoughts return to the Sharma's, I feel a sense of guilt - would I have been so hospitable to perfect strangers knocking on my door in the middle of a roaring storm?
The path ahead cuts through a paddy field, crosses a stream and then ascends a hill. Sherabling is somewhere on the other side of the hill. As we walk through the field, the rain picks up again, now turning into a vigorous hailstorm. Reaching the stream, we find that the path has vanished under rapidly flowing water. Eventually, after getting thoroughly wet, we manage to bridge the stream, then climb the hill and walking along the ridge, spot the monastery in the distance.
Sherabling turns out to be an amazing place. It is situated right in the midst of a forest and, we are told, houses 600 students in its hostel. The children come from places as far away as Arunachal Pradesh and Sikkim. The monastery is recent in origin being only 17 years old. Inside the main building is a large statue of the future Buddha, a Buddha who is yet to be born. Norbu, the monk from Arunachal Pradesh is very patient with us. He has been here 7 years. I ask him if the monks will leave the monastery once their learning is complete to which he replies that learning is lifelong and never complete. The Buddhist order running the monastery has establishments in other parts of India and even abroad and monks can be transferred from one place to another. Norbu’s elder brother and parents stay in Arunachal; he has not seen them for three years.
The inside of the monastery is breathtaking with polished wooden floors and beautiful arrangements for monks to sit and meditate. Colorful thanka paintings adorn the walls
.
Sherabling has rooms where guests and visitors can stay and a canteen offering simple food. We order Thukpa – a hot soup with noodles and vegetables – on the advice of ‘amma’ a wizened old lady who (wo)mans the canteen counter. It turns out to be an excellent choice – warming us up. Just then the sun bursts out of the clouds – for the first time in three days - lifting our spirits. Young monks are playing outside throwing snowballs at each other. We have a long way to go before sundown and it is time to leave.
Where do we go next? See: Footloose in Kangra Valley - 3
Today, we must get to Barot. Buses from Joginder Nagar to Mandi are frequent. We get one immediately after leaving our hotel and get off at Ghatasini which is the point all buses to Barot and beyond must pass through. It is cold and wet and we have a long wait for the Barot bus but our friendly companions at the wayside tea stall make time fly. Our host in Barot, Raj Kumar who runs Sachin’s Home Stay is actually surprised to see us. He has assumed that we would have cancelled our trip because of the bad weather.
Barot is a beautiful place but it certainly turns bleak when it is raining.
Over a lunch of rajma/chawal at a dhaba, we get the perspective of a couple of locals - an army javan on leave and a driver employed by the state government - on the problems they face - lack of jobs and denial of access to wood after the area has been declared a reserve forest.
We visit the dam site on the Uhl (pronounced Uhal) river where the water is dammed and diverted through penstock pipes to Joginder Nagar to drive the power generators. There is a lone official in a cabin warming himself with an electric stove. He invites us in and we dry ourselves.
The dam and power plant are controlled by the Punjab Electricity Board and the power generated also goes to Punjab. The official is responsible for reporting the water levels in the dam to his headquarters. When there is a ‘excess’ water (in excess of the carrying capacity of the plant) in the river due to rains, it is released downstream into the river bed. We ask him if the people downstream are warned. He says that they have a hooter at the dam site which is used to warn people – but of course, it cannot be heard too far downstream. He agrees that if people are caught unawares crossing the river downstream, they will swept away, particulary if it is after dark.
The next morning it is snowing in Barot and our prescient host had hinted at this possibility yesterday. We enjoy the snow view – but there is not much to be done except to pack our bags and wait for a bus to take us down.
Trekking to Rajgundha and then onwards to Billing and Bir – our original plan – is clearly out of question. That is the opinion of several people we ask. So it has to be Bir by road instead.
Further on, we acquire an interesting co-passenger. A Gaddi (mountain shepard) wearing a traditional Himachali cap gets on to the bus with a large goat that he is presumably taking to town to sell. The goat is treated as a bona fide passenger.
We arrive in the Tibetan Colony of Bir after walking a few kms from the bus stop on the main highway and take up a room for Rs 250/ in a lodge run by monks in a neighboring monastery. Across the street from the lodge are several Tibetan Café’s. We make our way into Gangchen Zompa Cafe, a cozy looking place filled with Tibetans at this time. The café promises that all the food served is freshly cooked on order. The tomato-egg soup, mutton momos and the tingmo (steamed bread) are really fresh and satisfying and more than make up for the time taken and the impersonal service. The rest of the evening is spent in finding a laundry where we can get our clothes ironed dry (water has got into our haversacks despite all precautions) and getting our new umbrela repaired.
Bir to Baijnath via Sherabling Monastery
It is a wet morning with a dark cloud cover. After a leisurely breakfast we start walking down the Baijnath road.
It is a beautiful road meandering through green fields in open country. The cross country shortcut to Sherabling is a small track on the boundary of a tea garden that takes off to the left after the road crosses the first big nullah.
As we walk along, what would have been a comfortable path has been turned into a small stream by the rain. Beautiful vistas unfold of tea gardens and wheat fields by small villages. Further on, the path enters a forest. The drizzle now builds up into a thunderstorm and the path is no more discernable in the forest; we have it, seems, lost our way. In the distance on a hilltop, there is a lone house standing. We decide to make for it to get renewed directions for Sherabling. Smoke is coming out from a chimney – a welcome sign indeed. The door opens to our knock and a woman peers out and without hesitation asks us to come around to the front door. Over a warm glassfull of tea, sitting in their cozy living room, we get acquainted with our hosts – Sunil Sharma and his mother.
We learn that Sunil’s father, employed in the ITBP passed away just a few months earlier. His elder brother works in the merchant navy while his sister works with the health center at the Tibetan Colony in Bir. Sunil himself has trained to be trekking guide but is now preparing to join the merchant navy as a mechanic – a job with better prospects. The rain has petered down to a drizzle by now and we get ready to leave even as Mrs Sharma graciously tries to persuade us to have lunch with them. Sunil walks with us through the forest, perhaps a km, till a point from where the path to Sherabling is clearly visible, getting thoroughly wet himself in the process. It is clear that we would have been hopelessly lost without his help. We exchange contacts and part. The villagers in Kangra have the reputation of being simple, straightforward and very hospitable. The Sharma's have been more than true to type. When my thoughts return to the Sharma's, I feel a sense of guilt - would I have been so hospitable to perfect strangers knocking on my door in the middle of a roaring storm?
The path ahead cuts through a paddy field, crosses a stream and then ascends a hill. Sherabling is somewhere on the other side of the hill. As we walk through the field, the rain picks up again, now turning into a vigorous hailstorm. Reaching the stream, we find that the path has vanished under rapidly flowing water. Eventually, after getting thoroughly wet, we manage to bridge the stream, then climb the hill and walking along the ridge, spot the monastery in the distance.
Sherabling turns out to be an amazing place. It is situated right in the midst of a forest and, we are told, houses 600 students in its hostel. The children come from places as far away as Arunachal Pradesh and Sikkim. The monastery is recent in origin being only 17 years old. Inside the main building is a large statue of the future Buddha, a Buddha who is yet to be born. Norbu, the monk from Arunachal Pradesh is very patient with us. He has been here 7 years. I ask him if the monks will leave the monastery once their learning is complete to which he replies that learning is lifelong and never complete. The Buddhist order running the monastery has establishments in other parts of India and even abroad and monks can be transferred from one place to another. Norbu’s elder brother and parents stay in Arunachal; he has not seen them for three years.
The inside of the monastery is breathtaking with polished wooden floors and beautiful arrangements for monks to sit and meditate. Colorful thanka paintings adorn the walls
. Sherabling has rooms where guests and visitors can stay and a canteen offering simple food. We order Thukpa – a hot soup with noodles and vegetables – on the advice of ‘amma’ a wizened old lady who (wo)mans the canteen counter. It turns out to be an excellent choice – warming us up. Just then the sun bursts out of the clouds – for the first time in three days - lifting our spirits. Young monks are playing outside throwing snowballs at each other. We have a long way to go before sundown and it is time to leave.
Where do we go next? See: Footloose in Kangra Valley - 3
Footloose in Kangra Valley - 1
Kangra Fort, Kangra -> Joginder Nagar
The Inter State Bus Terminal (ISBT) at Kashmere Gate is chock-a-block with people. There is no sign of our bus – a Himachal Road Transport ‘Tata A/C’ service – even though it is slated to depart in 15 minutes.
Kangra Fort
Our plan for the day is to visit Kangra Fort before catching the Kangra Valley train to Joginder Nagar. It is a pleasant walk to the Fort taking about an hour and we reach just after it opens at 9 am. The fort has a commanding presence and is built on a well chosen location – between the rivers Ban Ganga and Manjhi that create deep gorges on either side and meet behind the fort making for a natural barrier on three sides. The entrance to the fort is through a long corridor with many gates.
The higher points within the fort offer wonderful panoramic views of the Kangra Valley and the meandering rivers. Kangra Fort, it seems, is one of the best kept secrets of Himachal Pradesh.
View from Kangra Fort
Kangra valley on rails
Returning to Kangra, we learn that the nearest station on the Kangra Valley Railway is Kangra Mandir, a short auto ride away. We are at the station well before the next (2.30 pm) train to Joginder Nagar. The station is manned by a single officer – who seems to be the station master and the ticket vendor. We are curtly told that tickets can be bought only half hour prior to arrival of the train. When we are able to get them, we find that the tickets only cost Rs 11 each.
Kangra Mandir station has a single quaint old platform – the other side is an open forested hill.
At places, the mustard has been planted to etch interesting patterns in the green – has it been done with the final presentation in mind, one is not quite sure.
In the far distance on the western side of the track, are the ever present Dhauladhars rising steeply from the valley, their upper reaches smeared with snow and disappearing into the clouds. The sky is overcast and the sun plays hide and seek.
At Nagrota junction, we stop for the train from the other direction to cross.Women in colorful dresses – pink, bright red, orange and mustard yellow – are sitting on the platform under the open sky busily knitting away while waiting for their train.
After Chamunda, the nearest stop for Dhramashala, the train passes through a large pine forest climbing steadily to Palampur (1100m). A surprise awaits us at Baijnath station. Half the compartments in the train are not destined to travel the full distance to Joginder Nagar. They are removed from the middle of the train by means of several rounds of shunting. All this accounts for a half hour stop at Baijnath and we reach Joginder Nagar well after dark. At Joginder Nagar, we learn that the haulage trolly that we had planned to take to get to Barot is not operational on Sunday’s. We allow ourselves to be pampered at the Hotel Uhl – good food, hot bath with a warm bed waiting.
Next : Footloose in Kangra Valley - 2
The Inter State Bus Terminal (ISBT) at Kashmere Gate is chock-a-block with people. There is no sign of our bus – a Himachal Road Transport ‘Tata A/C’ service – even though it is slated to depart in 15 minutes.
C makes a casual inquiry to learn that the bus service has been cancelled. We are offered the option of a refund or a costlier seat in the subsequent ‘Volvo’ service on payment of the difference. Travel we must, so we scramble on to the Volvo which finally leaves Delhi at around 8.30 pm on a cold February night. We reach Kangra at 6.30 am where a number of co-passengers get down along with us. After some shopping around, we find a hotel room with a hot shower and a clean bathroom that we can use till noon for Rs 350.
Kangra Fort
Our plan for the day is to visit Kangra Fort before catching the Kangra Valley train to Joginder Nagar. It is a pleasant walk to the Fort taking about an hour and we reach just after it opens at 9 am. The fort has a commanding presence and is built on a well chosen location – between the rivers Ban Ganga and Manjhi that create deep gorges on either side and meet behind the fort making for a natural barrier on three sides. The entrance to the fort is through a long corridor with many gates.
The higher points within the fort offer wonderful panoramic views of the Kangra Valley and the meandering rivers. Kangra Fort, it seems, is one of the best kept secrets of Himachal Pradesh.
View from Kangra Fort
Kangra valley on rails
Returning to Kangra, we learn that the nearest station on the Kangra Valley Railway is Kangra Mandir, a short auto ride away. We are at the station well before the next (2.30 pm) train to Joginder Nagar. The station is manned by a single officer – who seems to be the station master and the ticket vendor. We are curtly told that tickets can be bought only half hour prior to arrival of the train. When we are able to get them, we find that the tickets only cost Rs 11 each.
Kangra Mandir station has a single quaint old platform – the other side is an open forested hill.The train ambles along the valley unfolding pretty green fields with yellow borders. The fields are divided into small level patches with raised boundaries to retain the water. The contours of the land are strictly maintained at the macro level. The green is the color of the wheat. Mustard has been sown along the boundaries accounting for the yellow. My co-passenger tells me that it is the practice in Kangra to sow wheat and mustard together.
At Nagrota junction, we stop for the train from the other direction to cross.Women in colorful dresses – pink, bright red, orange and mustard yellow – are sitting on the platform under the open sky busily knitting away while waiting for their train.
Next : Footloose in Kangra Valley - 2
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Kangra Valley
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