Darjeeling: Queen of the Hills

I was up this morning at 4 am. I had paid the guy at the hotel for a share jeep to Tiger hill just 11 km from Darjeeling. It's the tallest hill in the area and the best place to view the mountians.

After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I shook myself awake and went to look for the guy. He was nowhere to be found. I knocked on a few doors and giving up, decided to find the jeep on my own. The doors were locked and so was the gate out front. I had to scale it, which was fine going up and over, but not so gentle on the landing. I didn't notice a concrete ledge the edge of the steps and banged up one of my shins on it.

Finding a jeep was as easy as finding my belly button. I walked down the stairs at the end of the alley to the main street and a Jeep pulled up. The driver yelled out "Tiger Hill?" and I said "OK!" I was the only passenger, so he passed me off to one of his buddies up the road and I was soon squished between the steering wheel and stick shift of a jeep full of Hindu college girls.

Once we got most of the way up the hill, it was backed up with so many parked jeeps that we had to walk from the entrance gate to the top.

At the top we were greeted by a circus of tourists walking this way and that. All of the Indian tourists were bundled up like it was -20 in the middle of a snowstorm, although it was nowhere close to zero. In their defence, you could see your breath in the air.

Even manly men wore shawls wrapped around their necks and up over their heads. This brought me back to the memory of a Varanasi silk shop, where the shopkeeper tried to convince me that men could wear sick shawls. Many of the shawls looked beautiful, but not on me.

The view was nowhere as interesting as the tourists. The horizon was obscured by thick clouds and the only indication that the sun had actually risen was the slight brightening of the sky and my watch showing 5:45, the time sunrise was supposed to occur.

I had considered shelling out money for the tourist pavilion behind us for a better view. It had 3 tiers. The general lounge was at the bottom (20 rupees), the nice lounge in the middle (30 rupees) and the deluxe lounge (40 rupees) at the top. It was only 5 rupees to stand where I was among the amusing crowd of tourists.

The rising of the sun was followed by a light drizzle, which put the crowd in motion toward their jeeps. I was lucky in that the girls and I were fast moving. Our jeep was one of the earlier ones to leave. I thought we were home free until the whole line of jeeps came to a standstill part way down the hill. After 20 minutes of waiting, I paid the driver (who was sleeping on his wheel) half the fare and decided to walk the 10 km back to my hotel.

It seemed that some kind of accident occurred somewhere as traffic police held up the jeeps and there was virtually no traffic. About 1/4 of the way there, a string of police cars sped past me. I had told the driver to pick me up on the way back if he saw me. I didn't get picked up, and I hope they took a side trip in order to make them so late. Waiting that long would have been horrible.

The walk to Darjeeling was pleasant. I passed a few colourful gompas (Tibetan Monasteries) and the roadside markets of the many small villages. I walked mostly along the road side railway, which had narrow tracks about 80 cm apart. This hill railway is one of the last still running in India, and is a World Heritage site. Unfortunately, its schedule doesn't fit mine.

My grandparents would have been proud of me. My hotel was just liek the olden days in that there was no running water. I ordered a hot bucket and was sponge bathing like my grandfather always described.

After buying some high grade Darjeeling Tea, for which the area is famous, I booked a seat in a share-jeep to Gangtok the capital of Sikkim. My quick breakfast/lunch was two Masala Dosas-- large round crispy bread rolled up like a crepe with a spicy potato inside. The cafe exclusively played Elton John for some reason.

The four hour drive started on winding roads in the clouds and eventually descended into the main river valley of the region. The river was a beautiful chalky blue and looked excellent for kayaking. I had read about kayak tours and got excited about the possibility.

Sikkim was a seperate kingdom like Bhutan up until 1975 when it allowed itself to be annexed by India. Because of its proximity to the disputed Chinese border, foreigners require permits to enter. I got mine a few days ago, so all the border guard did was write my details down in a logbook and stamp my passport.

Once in Gangtok, I checked into hotel-- this time with hot running water. It was around 4pm so I rushed around to tour agencies to see what I could find for the three full days I have in Sikkim.
I found a lot of 9 and 10 day treks that were leaving the next day. There were also some one day tours happening. Rafting was a possibility, but no outfitters in Sikkim have invested in kayaks. The tour operator I asked said that the "crazy kayakers" bring their kayaks from their own countries. They must have money to burn.

I ended up getting lucky and finding a three day tour to the Yumthang valley which is at the base of the Himalayan mountains and near the Chinese border. Now that I've got the rest of my trip set up and I've eaten, I'm going to sleep. I'm going to check out of my hotel at 5 am and try again for a panoramic Himalayan view (please, no clouds tomorrow!)