'Julley' is the Ladakhi word for hello, goodbye, welcome and thank you - very versatile - but this time I mean goodbye! The town of Leh has been my Indian 'training wheels' because it is so much calmer, quieter and cleaner than many places in this country; now I have been eased in gently I think I am ready to take on what the rest of India has to offer! I left Leh in the dark on Tuesday morning and started my long, long coach journey. When booking most trains and buses in advance in India they often appropriately seat you (i.e. they wouldn't put a young single female like me next to a man on his own unless he was really old) which suits me because this time I was sat next to an old Indian granny who was small and quiet apart from the odd giant belch! We drove over the world's second highest pass at 17800ft (we were so high that at one point we drove through clouds!) and the driver stopped so we could take photos; he ordered me to bring my camera and insisted on taking a photos of me at the top of this pass with various other male passengers.
The roads were so horrendously bumpy that, when I was half asleep, I kept knocking into the granny beside me. Every now and then we would stop at little villages with chai cafes and I would ask where the toilet was, people would vaguely point their arms towards a building so I'd go to investigate but it would just be someone's home or a locked building; it took me a while to realize that the the 'toilets' they were referring to were the open spaces next to the building i.e. in the middle of a field next to a road in broad daylight.
The roads were so wonky that the bus would tilt over the cliff edge and it really felt like we were going to fall over (plus there were no seat belts). The driver took great pride in pointing out the wildlife such as wild horses, herds of ibex and marmots which look like dog-sized hamsters. One road had a dizzying 21 loops to get down the side of a mountain.
We arrived at our tent stay and a few of us immediately went on the hunt for beer! A man emerged with some warm, ancient looking, dusty bottles and we sat outside enjoying the 8% Indian Kingfisher.
The next day we left early and the views just got better and better as we drove through beautiful valleys. I had been recommended a funky and cheap place to stay in the town we were heading to (£2 a night) by another traveller so I had called ahead and booked a room. When the coach finally got to Manali I took a crazy ride in a rickshaw (these have open sides and slippery seats, you have to brace yourself and hold on for dear life!) on potholed roads up a rocky hill and to my guesthouse which was wedged in the mountain overlooking a valley; when I got there, without me saying a word, a man said "you must be Jennifer!" and took me to my room!
That night I went for dinner with three people from the bus (one from Belgium, one from France and one from Italy) and we went to a rooftop restaurant. I have to make a conscious effort not to talk so fast because people can't understand me, it almost feels painful to talk slower than I usually do but hopefully I will get used to it and it may force me to change a bad habit of a lifetime! I once again played my menu lottery game and had a really tasty Indian meal. Later on I had an even crazier rickshaw ride home in the dark, it felt like being on an ancient roller coaster and was made even better by the fact that I'd had a few beers!
Awkward bus photo.
Chai stop.
Precarious mountain roads.
The roads were so wonky that the bus would tilt over the cliff edge and it really felt like we were going to fall over (plus there were no seat belts). The driver took great pride in pointing out the wildlife such as wild horses, herds of ibex and marmots which look like dog-sized hamsters. One road had a dizzying 21 loops to get down the side of a mountain.
My Markha Valley monkey enjoying the view.
We arrived at our tent stay and a few of us immediately went on the hunt for beer! A man emerged with some warm, ancient looking, dusty bottles and we sat outside enjoying the 8% Indian Kingfisher.
Our tent stay.
Driving through clouds.
The next day we left early and the views just got better and better as we drove through beautiful valleys. I had been recommended a funky and cheap place to stay in the town we were heading to (£2 a night) by another traveller so I had called ahead and booked a room. When the coach finally got to Manali I took a crazy ride in a rickshaw (these have open sides and slippery seats, you have to brace yourself and hold on for dear life!) on potholed roads up a rocky hill and to my guesthouse which was wedged in the mountain overlooking a valley; when I got there, without me saying a word, a man said "you must be Jennifer!" and took me to my room!
Hotel 'Babushka'.
The view from room. Manali is like an alpine ski resort in summer - not what I expected to find in India at all!
I have decided to try something I haven't heard of every time I eat (I call this 'menu lottery') and this time I pointed to something called channa pori for 20 rupees.
That night I went for dinner with three people from the bus (one from Belgium, one from France and one from Italy) and we went to a rooftop restaurant. I have to make a conscious effort not to talk so fast because people can't understand me, it almost feels painful to talk slower than I usually do but hopefully I will get used to it and it may force me to change a bad habit of a lifetime! I once again played my menu lottery game and had a really tasty Indian meal. Later on I had an even crazier rickshaw ride home in the dark, it felt like being on an ancient roller coaster and was made even better by the fact that I'd had a few beers!
Rooftop restaurant.
