Sunday 8th April

Got it all?” asked Jeremy

“Hope so…”

Today we were leaving the familiar Deodar Cottage for a taste of something simpler. Ramming a couple of days’ gear into smaller bags, (not forgetting our poles) we bundled them into the back of the car and set off to be shown a temple high up near our destination, Thikalna Cottage. It was an extremely twisty forested climb; our driver, Raju taking it very carefully.

The weather was a slight concern. Following the storms of last night and wet forecast how much walking could we sensibly achieve? It showered ominously en route. But Jeremy kept saying “look, blue sky!” (ever the optimist). The Temple proved to be one of the oldest – 2000 years – dedicated to Lord Shiva, who was said to have meditated here aeons ago.

It was dank and cold when Jeremy entered in, but he found three Saddus living inside, one of whom extracted INR20 from him in exchange for a piece of string round his wrist and dab of coloured dye (tilak) on his forehead. After a quick look round we took a walk along the high road to a tea house, had chai and biscuits, and then began our descent on foot to Thikalna, a small village house, where we were to spend the night.

The walk was only three kilometres or so, along a sandy track and through the forest. Enormous old rhododendrons lined the way, red petals scattered like confetti amongst the leaves.

The red blooms from which they fell popped out like traffic lights amongst so many greens.

Jeremy’s earlier optimism must have influenced conditions because the rain held off and after what seemed like no time at all we arrived.

Thikalna village house perches on a hilly outcrop. It has panoramic views of terraced or wooded hillsides, plunging thousands of feet below.

Looking at the terraces they suddenly reminded me of the ridges of rippled sand you sometimes see, left behind by an ebbing tide. We couldn’t see Nanda Devi (7000m) or Panchuli, (4,500m) two of the great neighbouring Himalayan peaks, thanks to the drifting cloud. But there was plenty else to take in!

We were served a welcome lunch outside and then treated to a warm afternoon sun. I took my hat off, and basked. Bliss… We both lazed, slit eyed, like a couple of well fed cats.

Eventually we stirred and took a walk on our own. We peeled up another wooded track. Gazing at the dappled light dancing through the trees and the flaming rhodies, and feeling the soft air around all us, together with the music of barbet calls, cuckoos, kukuan, and busy woodpeckers, it felt like walking through a sound painting, touching every sense.

The accommodation at Thikalna is very simple: no hot water and no electricity, so gives a proper sense of being ‘away’.

The showering arrangements!

We were looked after by these two in the tiny kitchen, our very own good chefs, who produced a mean egg curry, on arrival!

Back from our walk we were just having a cup of black tea, when Amit came across and pointed out the triangular white peak of Panchachuli just peeping out in the far distance above the highest clouds. So high it was dramatic – giving a breathtaking glimpse of Himalayan majesty. We scampered up the bank to try and take photos of it, but they do it little justice. This peak is over 70 miles away.

A spectacular sunset closed the day,

and we sat by the fire. It was getting cold.

There was no need for firelighters – resin was poured onto the wood and off it went!

Resin is collected by scoring the bark of pine trees and placing cones beneath to catch the resin as it drips down

Our evening meal was served inside, sitting cross legged at little low tables, by candlelight. It was all very quiet and atmospheric.

After supper we went back out to the fire and gazed at the twinkling lights from far below. Above us: a twinkling carpet of stars. One of them was moving rather quickly. “A satellite” said Amit.

***********

Monday 9th April

After a mildly restless night, each of us suffering slightly with our tummies, we were awoken at 0545 with two cups of strong black tea.

We were to do a longish walk – roughly 14kms via trails and villages to a little house called Ganghet. The dawn broke fast over the mountains.

I felt a little the worse for wear, not having cleaned up properly and feeling slightly sleep deprived. I remonstrated with myself for minding, but that’s how it was.

However, you can’t beat a good breakfast at dawn! And outside there some breathtaking views to behold.

We set off at a cracking pace and marched the three kilometres back up to the road. Hearts beat fast and all the accessory muscles of inhalation were deployed!

Thereafter we wandered our way down 1000 feet for about 5km to the Jageshwar Temple complex. It dated from 8th Century AD. There is a main one which stands out tall against the two or three other smaller similar ones temples.

They in turn are surrounded by ten or fifteen smaller shrines housing candles or offered petals. Depressingly, there was quite a commerciality about the place; with a plethora of wily street vendors eagerly proffering identical trinkets and bags of offerings to buy for the gods in many gaudy forms.

Everyone removes their shoes on entry and wanders round barefoot on the cold stone. One hears chanting coming from inside the temples and sees small gatherings of worshippers seated on the ground, chanting and clapping together enjoying their unison devotions.

A dog trotted beside us for a time, trying make cupboard love. I’m afraid he was out of luck.

A cup of hot spicy chai later and we set off uphill to regain 1000 feet for another 6km stretch through tiny villages and smallholdings.

This was the most charming section of the walk, affording us intimate glimpses of mountain rural life. We passed a school where classes were being conducted outside. Those not big enough to sit at a desk, (ie toddlers) sat in mute awe on a mat at the back. No wandering off or whinging for an iPad here!

We continued on, until eventually we arrived at our lunch stop. It was a particularly good salady selection this time, and despite having already downed a hearty breakfast we tucked in.

The weather was now turning, grey and lowering, boomy thunder shouldering around the hills. So rather than risk becoming part of the next landslide we opted for a lift for a chunk of the way, walking the last part, and past these little people.

Ganghet was another village house property from which we were to have trekked back the following day, but with the weather situation, we opted to return to Itmenaan Estate and walk again the morning. Having already got 15 vigorous kilometres or so under our belt we didn’t feel too bad about it.

This proved to be the right decision. I was reminded of that famous quotation from The Best Marigold Hotel, “Everything will be all right in the end, and if it’s not all right then it’s not the end!” Such a good maxim for life I think. So on returning, and finding to our joy that the electricity was back on (not having been a reliable feature thus far) we got freshened up and then, unexpectedly, found the sun had reappeared, and were able to have honeylemonnginger tea on the terrace. It was as though the world had suddenly changed.

A magic meal

We were hungry for supper. All the beastly tummy problems now resolved, I tucked it. As usual we were served soup (this one had a great kick in it so I finished it), with pappadum, followed by rice and dahl plus a selection of other delicious vegetarian mixtures, some threaded with curry leaves and spinach, all of which hit the button. We even had wholewheat chapatis, glistening slightly, fresh from the pan. I tried to eat slowly, but found myself ‘troughing’, spooning it in for all I was worth. When eventually my belt couldn’t cope another second, I downed tools and threw in the towel. Amit strolled over. As General Manager, in addition to guiding us on all the walks and seeing to our every need, he was also the evening chef (with assistance). Poor chap had developed a slight cold. He was snuffly but still beaming and unfailingly polite. “Amit!” I said. “That was absolutely superb. What did you put in it?” He paused, grinning lightly, “Marijuana seeds, mam.”

!!!!!

A very good night’s rest then ensued with neither of us capable of stirring far from the bed.

Tuesday 10th April

After our heavenly slumbers we woke to a bright morning. Following a good breakfast Amit took us for our last walk from the Itmenaan Estate. It was much the most beautiful. It takes a good 20 mins to get up to the road on foot so our legs were pressed well into service once again. Amit took us on a circular walk this time, descending quite steeply and then flattening slightly as we snaked the edge of some terraces, before climbing up again. The temperature was perfect – warm and sunny, but with the occasional shade from wooded sections, a wooshy wind sometimes blowing through the pines. It’s the mountain version of waves breaking on the shore and I love it.

There were so many sights to see: a man ploughing the fields with two buffalo and a wooden plough, far below, a woman in a bright sari weeding (or sewing?) visible alongside.

We came across some people cutting wood, a diminutive old lady with them, sitting and muttering merrily, watching the men work. I looked up and smiled – gesturing at my camera to see if she would mind my pointing it at her. She beamed back and spoke happy sounds. One does not need language sometimes – only some intention from the heart, I feel. Here she is. I could have popped her in my pocket.

What gladdened me so much was that she was outside, enjoying the air and safe, in company, not shut up in a room in an old people’s home.

A typical sight was the shiny rump of oxen in the yard with little goats nibbling nearby.

We wound our way on, along an ever varying path.

We came across this fresh water well

now used for cattle.

We filed past Uday’s village and eventually hit the 15 minute descent for base one last time. Our friend the wood pecker was still terribly busy. Tired legs brought us thankfully down and straight into some tea, before a quick shower and lunch. We had walked for nearly three hours so hungry again!!

By 1330 it was time to leave. A farewell to Amit and a last lunch-legged trudge back up to the road.

What a special time to have spent there and how wonderful to feel slightly fitter and jump started (magic meal ‘n all!)