Ladakh - Motorcycle Diaries
In your eagerness to reach your destination it is easy to forget why you are here in the first place, it is
easy to be swept up by the pull of your mundane life back home
easy to overlook the serene, mighty flow of the Indus
easy to ignore the windswept barren beauty of the mountains
easy to forget why you are here in the first place.
As you land in Leh, you only get a glimpse of mighty barren heights amid which the aircraft lands. Soon you are in the midst of cramped, dingy airport, beset by greedy cabbies eager to take their toll on your wallet. If you can manage to keep these material details abstract or simply look past them soon enough, good for you, but don't count me in. I need time to ruminate and forgive the greedy trappings of this material world. I guess I'm too naïve to let go the strings soon enough.
What appears to be a creative design for lamp shade turns out to be a native design for a backpack. You get carried away with what you see and realize where it actually came from much later, till that time just keep it zipped lest others will see your foolishness.
Acclimatize to high altitude by obsessively snapping away at a gompa which is at a higher altitude still, anyone?
Spituk Gompa overlooks the airport and has a personality of its own. POP statues painted in candy colors (no, they are not edible), monks who are hooked on Coke, loads of white (and a lone yellow) scarves piled high to the ceiling, it's special love for exotic brass and copper lamps and very old prayer wheels...don't take this place for granted just because it is in an urban setting. Spituk's soul is firmly rooted in its past. Oh! the canteen sells Ladakhi breads and beverages.
To the south of Spituk the barren, wind swept expanses are both imposing and intimidating, perhaps not for the C-17 Globemasters hovering above. Venture down south, up into the villages in those hills and you fill find some villagers serving Ladakhi fare to discerning gastronomes. They are stingy about the home brewed rice wine though. It is called Chaang (like Chang brand beer in Thailand). It's hard to come by, too much demand too little production.
Nubra river is a mighty artist, carving its way out of the great mountains, it nurtured many towns along its way to join the Shyok. It's an oasis in the high desert.
The wander bug doesn't let you rest till you hit the road again. This time I went out all alone - I don't need others deciding what to eat, where to stay. I especially despise it when one person in the group tells what he wants to do, expecting others to fall in line. No buddy, not for me, it is time to say goodbye!
The road that takes you to Agham (a turn to the left from the road leading up to Khardung La from Nubra - also called Siachen-Turtuk Mod) is an alternate when Khardung La is not accessible. It is not just an alternative, not any alternative, it is not just any road either. Banking eerily away from the hills, towards some 1km deep gorge etched by Shyok river, liberally dusted with fine white sands, your belly knotting itself up, you hang on to dear life, hoping you never slip and fall. There's just one lane and there will be zero traffic. It's spooky as hell, you will be lonely as hell, it is one hell of a ride, all by yourself. You wish there were more traffic. More scary something is, more vividly you remember the experience, as if it happened just now. My urge to live was stronger than my urge to stop and take photos by balancing the bike on one leg in the slippery dry sand. I just moved ahead till I hit the bottom of the valley and an endless flat road leading up to Agham.
The best photo are the ones I'm yet to take...well that sounds like a good excuse but I regret not taking enough photos of Agham, a lunar landscape of an exotic, lonely town. White sand hills on one side and the village on the other. A very atmospheric village with an unforgettable and secluded vibe.
I wanted to reach Hemis take a break and then go to Tso Moriri. From Agham, the way towards Wari La is unique unlike anything I have ever seen before. Hills on on side and villages on the other and no one, not a single person to be seen. The roads were smooth, the views were breath taking and the mountains never ending. I kept going higher and higher. We want people around yet we want to be alone. We don't want traffic but we are not comfortable being the only one of the road for several kilometers on end. I pondered about these paradoxes, this irrational inclination and convinced myself repeatedly to be present, enjoy the views for I'm not going to be here every day and soon this will be in the past - looked at only in the rare view mirror of memories. My thoughts kept flooding my mind, the Eagle kept chugging along the roads, cold wind buffeting my body, not a person in sight, I kept going on ahead.
'Wari La' a board read - more like a 'to-let' board than a board declaring a high pass in Himalayas. Wari La deserves better. The road became steeper and steeper as if to test my resolve and the Eagle's. I kept going ahead but kept loosing hope - I wasn't sure I will reach anywhere. I wasn't sure the end was in sight. After climbing is over and roads started slanting down, I saw a group of people sitting by the road side, having lunch. I realized as I approached them that they are the road repair personnel. I stopped my bike and went towards them and just sat down right on the road besides a woman. Their faces covered in scarf that's wrapped around their mouth and nose to prevent dust from getting in perhaps - you could only see their eyes. I was shaking, breathless, exhausted and losing hope. The woman next to me asked if I was okay. I shook my head - she could see that I was not okay, perhaps I was pale and looked exhausted.
"Have you eaten anything?" - she asked as if she knew everything
I shook my head again - I haven't had anything to eat since last evening and it was 1pm already.
"You should eat something - then you will be alright"
I opened my ruck sack and pulled the granola bars out. After a while, I started feeling better. She was right. Later she assured me that I was on the right path towards Hemis. I waved them good bye and hopped on the Eagle.
A paradise was waiting for me on the other side of Wari La. The bad road ended, newly minted road smooth as an apple skin opened up. I opened the throttle, the road zig zagged down into the valley taking me towards the green oasis, Sakti. On the top of the valley lay a humongous mountain range like giant watch tower for the valley that lay below.
I stopped at a small eatery where the road from Agham to Sakti ends on a highway, met another photographer, had something to eat and started towards Karu as the sun started setting.
Hemis is nestled amid rocky mountains. In proportion it seems small but it is not. It is a vast and rich gompa, richest in Ladakh and has most resources at this disposal than any other gompa and that's what makes it better from a distance not up close.
Riding through canyon of the mighty Indus, it was like a bike riding in a video game till you see wide expanses, wind swept mountains - you don't get to see anywhere else. The views change once again as you cross the Mahe bridge towards Tso Moriri.
This mountain range Lungser Kangri around the Tso will etch a lasting impressions on your mind. The views are unforgettable, unbelievable and unparalleled. If you are fed up with the drama of people back home, you will realize here that not all drama is repellent. The drama of clouds, winds, mountain tops is the type of drama you want more and more of and you will cherish. For a photographer there cannot be a better drama in life.
In the mountains no two days are alike - with my fill of beauty that can last a lifetime of memories, Lucifer in me instills an itch to get away from it all - just like that, on a hunch. I wouldn't know why I'd ever try to get away from so much beauty? I think my mind was creating opportunities for regretting later about my own bad decisions? What I am to do? Resist the urge to leave and be there for some more days? I am not sure. There's one thing I am sure of though, I need to be less restless and self correcting quicker before acting on hunches like these...tame my own monkey mind in other words.
Back in Leh, I go about searching for more but Leh is a far cry from Moriri - bland and banal. I wasn't happy but the kids who rented me their Eagle were happy to see that I didn't disappear with their bike. I go about an overrated tourist trap called Leh palace. It was restored by a chimpanzee or so it looks - due respect to the chimp, this is not restoration it is something else. They couldn't mess everything about the palace though.
I was drawn to the enigma of Alchi gompa so off I go towards Zanskar valley. I was drawn to a quaint little town Schnimoo which is not far from Leh. It is on the highway, with shops lining the road nothing much but between the waves of tourists the town settles down, settles back to his original charm and that's what I loved. I'd just sit outside the excellent Tibetan Norling Restaurant, order food and watch the world go by.
Alchi didn't disappoint but you can't take photos there, heck! Likir is a fine cousin, more accessible and atmospheric. A Ladakhi family hosted me for a couple of days and the man of the house, a retired soldier, couldn't wait to see me go back to where I came from and leave his family alone. He resented the fact that his cat and his kids liked hanging out with me. It was time to go back and haunt my favorite restaurant. As I leave, he opens the gate, stands aside in attention and salutes, 'thank you sir!' he yells as if I were his commanding officer. I didn't get his drama at all.
It was time to go alright, but not before appreciating how Zanskar refuses to join the Indus - this is a confluence unlike any confluence - you can see water from each of these rivers, distinctly. Also not before I ate at the excellent langar (free, open kitchen) at Gurdwara Pathar Sahib, it has no equal!
