India’s Peaks and Valleys
India was full of highs and lows for us. At times, we were completely in awe of the nature around us, warmly accepted by locals, and fascinated by culture. Other times, we felt the opposite. We’ll get into all that in this post.
November 24, 2022 (T) - Smog and the Chocolate Sorry Plate
We had arranged for our hotel to pick us up from the airport, but we didn’t see anyone waiting for us with all the other arrivals pick-up drivers. Maybe someone was waiting for us outside. It was dark by now at about 8:00PM. As soon as we exited the airport, we were hit with the smell and sight of something unfamiliar to us but too familiar to Delhi - smog. The air was enveloped with a thick, dusty brown substance that smelled like dirt, exhaust, rubber, and metal. It was honestly worse than what we had seen on TV or online. We scanned the dozens of people around the airport and still didn’t see a sign with our name on it. Bewildered, I called our hotel. They claimed I never confirmed which car we wanted to pick us up, although I already had over 24 hours prior to our arrival.
They said they could send a car, but G and I figured by the time a car arrived we could have already found an Uber. We declined their offer and ventured forth to find the Uber pick-up area. It was a bit complicated and felt like we were going through a maze of hallways, different floors, and moving walkways, but eventually, we found it and we were able to order an Uber without a problem. Not too long later, our Uber arrived. The car didn’t have any side mirrors. We said hello and piled ourselves and our backpacks into the small, mirrorless car.
Now, we had the chance to be in a car in Cairo and weren’t sure how Delhi would compare. We can confidently say that Cairo was much more frightening and chaotic than Delhi, but Delhi is still an adventure of its own. The roads were in decent shape and there were enough “lanes” for the traffic. I couldn’t stop looking out of the window. We drove by parks, temples, shops, and neighborhoods. Slums seemed to be mixed in with the more luxurious houses. Vendors sold a wide variety of things on the side of the street - food, shoes, clothes, balloons, flowers, etc. The road would go from one or two lanes and then meet up with an 8-way intersection that everyone just knew how to navigate. And, yes, there were cows randomly in the middle of the road right there in the huge city of Delhi. Our driver was very attentive so I wasn’t nervous. After about 45 minutes, we arrived safely at our hotel.
The hotel employees were very apologetic for the car mishap. They upgraded our room for free. We accepted their apology and thanked them for the room upgrade. A few minutes after we got settled in, there was a knock at our door. They apologized again and gave us a peace offering - a plate full of truffles with the word “sorry” on it written in chocolate. That is the most unique apology I’ve ever had.
It was still Thanksgiving, so G and I video-chatted with both of our families. We’re thankful technology allows us to do that and it was really nice to see all of their faces and catch up with them.
November 25, 2022 (G) - Breakfast Feast & Garden, The Sikh, and The Arrival of C
The Maidens hotel that we had chosen for our time in Dehli was a gorgeous relic from the Colonial period of the British Raj. The hotel once played host to Royalty and dignitaries from all over the world and had been built to suit such visitors. T and I felt admittedly a little out of place in the massive halls lined with great windows which looked down upon the front courtyard. It was a beautiful place and I would happily add our stay there to the peaks list of our time in India.
We wandered down the large central stairwell in the morning light to find our breakfast. The breakfast room was tucked away a little behind the central stairs. The seating was split indoors and outdoors. The outdoors seating was nestled between the two tall wings of the hotel which also sheltered a small garden area. This is where we first experienced the double-edged sword of the Indian dining experience.
Having collected a bountiful plate of food from the buffet area, I was not at all concerned with the prospect of going hungry. T and I had eaten around half of what we had first selected when a waitress stopped by to inquire if we would like anything else and proceeded to suggest we try a dosa or a few of the other culinary specialties of India. Eager to experience new and different cuisine, T happily ordered a dosa, which I agreed to split with her, blissfully unaware of the size of the dosa we would receive I continued eating what remained on my plate.
I had no more than finished my plate when the dosa appeared. It was massive, T still had food remaining on her original plate and was reaching her stomach capacity. A few moments went by when a second dosa appeared. When I inquired with the waitress, it seemed that the kitchen and taken T’s original request to mean that we each wanted a dosa. Our waitress also provided various small dishes of sauce to accompany the dosa. After delivering these she courteously asked if there was anything further she could bring us. Knowing that we had already bit off more than we could chew, I declined. Her facial expression seemed to fall a little, from a look of joy to concern or almost embarrassment as she tilted her head to the side in a gesture that we learned is equivalent to the word okay. Face fallen, she seemed to accept that we did not want anything more and left us to continue working our way through our remaining meal.
This desire to overfeed you coupled with what seems to be an element of guilt on the part of the host if they are not able to stuff you to maximum capacity is the double-edged sword of the Indian dining experience. On the one hand, we appreciated the attentiveness and being well-fed, on the other hand, we didn’t want to insult anyone by our refusal to eat more.
We felt strikingly similar after this breakfast to the way most of our friends and family probably felt around the same time, given that it was still Thanksgiving night in the United States. Our waitress returned once again just before we got up to inquire one last time if there was anything further she could bring us to eat. Once again, she accepted our refusal with a sideways head nod and a look of slight defeat. T and I felt that a walk around the garden would aid our stomachs in digesting the feast, so we left the dining area to stroll through the garden.
Beyond the immediate confines of the small garden, we found a larger garden area that extended out behind the hotel which also housed a beautiful swimming pool and also played host to a few wild peacocks and several troublemaking Macaque monkeys.
On our return to the small garden, we were greeted by the head concierge of the hotel. She wore a beautiful traditional Indian dress and a bright brass nametag with her title. She wanted to personally address the mishap with our arrival and confirm that we had been suitably compensated. We assured her that while the initial mistake had been unfortunate, the hotel and staff had recovered beautifully and that we were pleased with their response to an error.
We spent much of the afternoon doing a bit of laundry, planning, and arranging the logistics of our future travels. Evening crept in slowly and the time had arrived for T and I to go and greet one of my very best friends, who we’ll refer to as C. He and I had met years before in college and had become fast friends through our shared passion for rock climbing, hiking, and adventure. C had been looking for a reason to have an adventure and a meet-up with T and I had given him the perfect excuse to share in ours. Plus, we had planned on seeing the Himalayas, which had long been on his bucket list. After traveling for such an extended period of time, I was absolutely ecstatic that I would be able to hang out with C and am incredibly grateful he decided to make the 16-hour flight to join in our adventure.
T and I had planned to surprise C by greeting him at the airport instead of just sending a car for him. Our driver greeted us at the front of the hotel, a tall imposing older man with broad shoulders, he had a large beard and mustache and wore a turban on his head, with an iron bracelet on his right wrist. He was a Sikh. I have been lucky enough to have known a few Sikhs, but T had never met one before. So T has a few things she would like to include about her first experience meeting a Sikh before I continue with my story of being reunited with my friend.
(T) I briefly mentioned in the previous blog post that I was starting to feel a little “less than” after having been in a few Arab countries where women don’t have the same rights as men. India got me back on track, and I got a particularly big confidence boost from our lovely driver who was a Sikh. He was very open about being a Sikh and gave us some insight into his lifestyle and beliefs. He pointed out his temple and explained Sikh temples are open 24/7 to everyone of any background and they offer shelter and help to those who need it. Sikhs are protectors of people. Anyone can become a Sikh at any point in their life. He informed us of four important parts of being a Sikh: don’t cut your hair (that’s why many of them wear a turban), carry a dagger to protect others, wear an iron bracelet on your right hand to remind yourself to only do good, and wear long underwear to symbolize your fidelity to one partner. Our driver was easy to talk to so I asked a few more questions. Men and women can both be Sikhs and they are truly seen as equals. When I asked if women carried daggers too, he smiled and said “yes, of course!”. It felt relieving to not be viewed as inferior in one way or another. The 45-minute ride to the airport went very quickly due to our engaging conversation. Before we knew it, we were there and it was finally time to pick up C!
(G) I didn’t have to wait more than 5 minutes at the arrivals area when I saw the tall form of my dear friend C with his backpack slung over one shoulder. We both broke into great smiles, high-fived, and bro-hugged. It was great to see him in person again. We walked to where T was standing with our driver and out to the car. We spent the 45-minute ride back to the hotel catching up and covering a few of the details for the coming days. After he had gotten checked in and settled we headed down to the hotel’s bar which was dedicated to and decorated with images of the historic Calvery troops of the British Raj that had existed. We each had a drink, as we continued to chat merrily in a corner of the bar. Before long C, who was fiercely battling his jetlag, needed to rest, so we called it a night.
November 26, 2022 (T) - Delhi Day Tour
The biggest thing pulling us to India was The Himalayas. We had booked a 9-day tour through a local company, Northeast Tours. We gave ourselves a buffer day after C arrived just in case there were any travel hiccups. I contacted Northeast Tours and they knew someone who could take us on a day tour of Delhi, so we planned on doing that today. We ate a, once again, larger than anticipated but delicious breakfast, showed C the garden and pool area, then got ready for the day tour. Our driver was on time and the first stop was The Red Fort.
If we could pick one place to go in Delhi, it would be The Red Fort. The same person who designed The Taj Mahal designed The Red Fort. We would have tried to go to The Taj Mahal but you really should stay overnight if you’re going to go, so we opted out.
The walls around the fort are massive, both in length and width. We bought our tickets and made our way by other tourists, school groups, and hawkers to the entrance. I stopped to take a picture when an Indian couple approached me. I thought they were going to ask me to take their picture, but they wanted to take a picture with me! That had never happened to me before and I quickly realized the 3 of us were the only white people in sight, and C and I especially stood out. We are both very pale and I have long light brown hair with blonde highlights and C has blond hair and blue eyes. G and C watched this amusing interaction nearby and chuckled as we met up again to go through the entrance.
Under a long archway was a market full of souvenirs. We expected to be propositioned and perhaps harassed into buying things, but everyone was very chill. It was so nice being able to calmly look through all the items for sale and continue on our way. We spent about an hour wandering around the grounds of The Red Fort. There were some nice fountains and pavilions we passed. It was fun to imagine what this place must have been like in the 17th century when it was built.
As we left and were walking back to the car, we couldn’t help but notice how many people were staring at us. We really stuck out. The stares weren’t malicious, though. People were just intrigued to see us there. A woman approached the 3 of us and asked to take a picture with us. We happily obliged and then she made some friendly small talk. She asked us where we were from. G and I had been traveling for about 5 months at this point so our internal guards were up and well-armed. We were used to being harassed at markets and, depending on where you are, when a complete stranger asks where you’re from, it’s not to make small talk. You might have insults or a scam coming your way. We reluctantly told her we were from the US. She smiled and we talked a little bit about India then she went on her way. For the rest of the trip, we would occasionally have locals politely ask us where we were from because they were legitimately curious. This was quite refreshing for us.
We made it back to the car and drove to our next stop, Raj Ghat, the place where Gandhi was cremated. There is a lovely memorial for him in a big park. We took our time respectfully walking around and reading all the plaques before making our way back to the car.
The Red Fort and Raj Ghat were the most notable places we visited during our tour. Everything else was ok but not really our cup of tea. Delhi in general isn’t really our cup of tea, so it makes sense. We saw a war memorial, parliament (just the outside. You can’t get close to it.), and a government-sponsored marketplace where they sold tea, clothes, art, and carpets. It reminded us a little bit of the shops we visited in Egypt but there was definitely more pressure to buy something here. We also stopped in New Delhi to eat a late lunch. The food was so good.
After the tour, C was jetlagged and G and I were tired too, so we took a siesta and then met up in the bar where we had a couple of drinks while watching The World Cup. We were checked in and ready for our flight the following morning to begin our Himalayan adventure!
November 27, 2022 (G) - Bagdogra and Gangtok
We had planned to leave the hotel at 5:30 AM. We had arranged for transportation with the hotel concierge and marched down the stairs together at 5:30 sharp. However, the driver was late, around 30 minutes late. When at last he arrived, we quickly jumped into the car and headed to the New Delhi airport. This being a domestic flight we hoped that security may be a bit more relaxed as is often the case.
The New Delhi airport would prove to be one of the deepest valleys of our time in India. We arrived at the airport just before 7 am, our flight was scheduled for departure at 7:50. We had checked into our flight without issue the day before so we proceeded immediately to security.
In all my time traveling, I have never experienced a more ridiculous case of security theater than in the New Delhi airport. No other airport I have ever come across requires the removal of every single cord and coin from your carry-on luggage. I passed through the metal detector without issue but had evidently missed removing an electrical cord from my bag which somehow warranted a whole bag search and then a rescan of the bag. Once scanned again, my bag was fortunately returned to me and I was through. T wasn’t so lucky. New Delhi security also feels the need to separate men and women during the security screening process. This is common in many Islamic countries, but we hadn’t anticipated it here. Still, it wouldn't have mattered so much had T not had her bag flagged and searched… three times! By the second time they were searching her bag, it was past 7:30 am and we were running into dangerous territory regarding catching our flight. So, when they sent her bag back for the third time, C who had also passed through security, agreed to wait for T while I ran to the gate to hold the plane if necessary.
I jogged part of the way to the gate and arrived just a few minutes before 7:50. The gate was still open and I was speaking with the attendants to hold the plane when to my great relief T and C appeared. Both were slightly out of breath as they had run the distance after T’s bag had finally been returned to her. We all found our seats and the flight departed for Bagdogra moments later.
The flight itself was pleasant. One of my favorite moments of the flight was when we had just begun our descent, I reckoned that based on our location we might have a solid view of the Himalayas and Everest in particular. Without explaining my reasoning, I asked T to open the window shade. She opened it, slightly perturbed by the request, and stated without enthusiasm that the clouds in the distance were really bright. To which I replied, “Look again, those aren’t clouds”. She and C both peered out of the window again at their first view of the snowy peaks that rose well above the clouds below us. They are awe-inspiring and I have never seen any mountains that are their equal.
After landing we were greeted by a small older man with a sign bearing our names at the Bagdogra airport. Assuming he was our driver, we followed him to the car, where another much younger man sat in the driver’s seat. We took off our backpacks and loaded them into the car and hopped in. The older man, who was apparently just our porter (though we had nothing for him to carry) asked for a tip. Though he hadn’t done much to earn it aside from holding a sign and guiding us to the car, we begrudgingly offered him a small amount which he seemed pleased by.
The next few hours were spent driving north into the foothills of the Himalayas. We broke for lunch at a small roadside restaurant. T, C, and I enjoyed a plate of momos (Tibetian-style dumplings) a plate of sweet and sour paneer cheese, and fried rice. I picked up a small orange pepper and examined it. A local shouted out a warning to me, stating that it was very hot as he walked by. I fully believed him, but am a curious fellow and decided to take a delicate bite of the pepper. It was indeed very hot and I thought given the drive ahead it would be best if I refrained from swallowing it. Fortunately, I’m not sure if this is common everywhere in India, but during our Himalayas journey, most restaurants offered bowls of small mint-like seeds to eat after a meal, so I ate some of those and felt some relief. We paid our bill and found our driver once again to continue our journey.
Our driver, named Sanjit, spoke very little English which made acquiring some of the necessary permits at the local border of Sikkim a little entertaining. One particularly memorable checkpoint involved us visiting multiple small buildings for various reasons and ultimately finding our way to a seemingly empty building, going up a flight of stairs to find a floor that had a few chairs and a single office with just one man sitting in it. We presented him with our documents. He reviewed them, stamped them, and without so much as a word, gestured us on our way. Sketchy as it all seemed, we must have correctly completed the paperwork which I decided to put in a safe place in case it was needed for later (spoiler it was) because we were allowed to enter the region of Sikkim.
Sikkim had at one point been a kingdom country separate from India, but external pressures from China pushing their Himalayan border and internal pressures eventually led them to unite with India. The region was still seen differently than many others in India which resulted in the various checkpoints and additional permits required to visit the region.
The roads grew worse as we climbed higher, often consisting of single-lane switchbacks that clung desperately to sheer cliffs with drops of at least 500 meters (1600 ft) to one side and cliffs that threatened the possibility of a landslide on the other. At least the view out the window was spectacular. It’s challenging to explain in a meaningful way that the “foothills” of the Himalayas are actually massive and dramatically steep mountains that are simply dwarfed by the presence of the still greater peaks that scratch the upper troposphere of our planet.
Sanjit drove fast and rather jerky but remained tireless and extremely focused on the road. The sun slid down behind the mountains and as the light began to fade we arrived in Gangtok. Just after dark we checked into our hotel. We were overjoyed that the hotel had its own spa area. We arranged a massage to work out some of the aches we had developed on the long car ride up and then afterward enjoyed watching a bit of the world cup together.
November 28, 2022 (T) - Gangtok Day Tour and Language Barriers
Today we went on a tour of the sights in and close to Gangtok, the capital of Sikkim. It sits atop a hill with a good view of Kangchenjunga (the 3rd tallest mountain in the world) on a clear day. On the agenda were various temples, monasteries, parks, a flower garden, viewpoints, and The Institute of Tibetology. I was most excited to go to The Institute of Tibetology. Northeastern India has strong ties to Tibet and houses many Tibetan refugees so I was looking forward to learning more about them and their culture.
Sanjit picked us up around 10AM after we had breakfast. We practically flew to our first location, a park nestled on the mountainside with a waterfall, prayer flags, gazebos, bridges, and remnants of bumper cars and a stage. This park had been the place to be in years gone by. We explored the trails and bridges for a bit then returned to the car.
The next stop was a monastery and The Institute of Tibetology. We turned the prayer wheels (always go clockwise), observed the monastery from the outside, and then drove toward The Institute of Tibetology. We kept driving and drove past it. I became flustered and asked why we weren’t going to visit it. The language barrier was too large. I tried phrasing it a few different ways and I think Sanjit understood the gist of what I was asking but wasn’t able to reply. We zipped over to our next destination, a flower show.
On the walk from the parking spot down to the greenhouse, an Indian man and his child stopped us to ask us where we were from. G and I still had our guards up when we were asked this question, but we reluctantly answered. We were happy to see that, once again, he was just legitimately curious and we had a brief, friendly conversation about where we were from and what we were doing. We explained to C why we were on edge in regard to that question on the remainder of the walk down. The greenhouse itself was pretty small and unimpressive, but we still gave the flowers a respectful amount of time before returning to the car.
I tried using Google Translate to help me communicate with Sanjit about The Institute of Tibetology. I found out we would not be going and I still wasn’t sure why. My frustration was a bit intimidating to him and I think he was shy to attempt to answer. I let it go and decided I’d ask our tour operator about it later.
Our next destination, Tashi View Point and Hanumantok, a Hindu temple, was at the top of a mountain. We went up and up and honked our way around the corners on the single-lane mountain road. The view was lovely. Kanchenjunga was just barely visible. The sky was mostly clear but some clouds were formed over it. We spent some time soaking in the sun and the views, wandering around the temple, then returned to the car.
Prayer flags lined the road as we zoomed down to our next place, Ganeshtok, another Hindu temple (tok = temple). A road sign caught my eye, “BRO Don’t use mobile phone while driving Ganeshtok” and made me chuckle. It reminded me of the safety road signs that MODOT (Missouri Department of Transportation) put up that G and I got a kick out of when we lived in St. Louis. Whoever wrote those signs had a great sense of humor. A couple of our favorites were, “mash potatoes, not your head. wear your seatbelt.” around Thanksgiving and “who ya gonna call? no one, you’re driving!” around Halloween. I snapped a photo of the BRO sign that I read in an American gym bro voice in my head. Sanjit understood why we thought it was funny and explained BRO meant Border Roads Organization. We laughed and continued on our way toward Ganeshtok. We explored it for a while and returned to the car.
The next stop was a Buddhist temple that had gorgeous murals inside and a nice view on the outside. Unfortunately, we weren’t allowed to take any photos of the inside. Many of the Hindu temples did not allow photos either. The last stop was a waterfall.
On the way back to the hotel, we made a stop to do some paperwork. The next day we were heading up to Lachung in North Sikkim. The permit process is even more complicated and entry is more restricted due to its proximity to China. We would have an English-speaking guide, named Nishan, for this portion of the adventure. Nishan met us to sort out the paperwork and also explained that we weren’t able to visit The Institute of Tibetology because it was closed due to renovations. I appreciated his explanation. After we finished our administrative work, Sanjit, C, G, and I headed back toward the hotel.
It wasn’t a surprise to us that we finished our day tour a couple of hours early thanks to Sanjit’s speedy driving. I asked if he could drop us off at M G Marg, a long pedestrian street full of shops and restaurants, and due to our language barrier, he dropped us off at the hotel and said we could take a taxi.
C, G, and I were pretty tired so we took a siesta. We were going to give taking a taxi a shot but we needed a little more cash. We found a couple of different ATMs close to our hotel but neither worked for us. An early start and a long drive were ahead of us the following day, so we decided to just relax at the hotel and watch more of The World Cup.
The local company we booked our tour with is professional so the operator checked in with us that night. I was honest and gave the pros and cons of the day. He assured us when we returned to Gangtok after our North Sikkim visit, we have time to visit M G Marg and would be dropped off.
We were ready to venture further into The Himalayas!
November 29, 2022 (T) - What Constitutes a Road, Anyway? This is the Only Way to The Himalayas Here
After stuffing ourselves with more breakfast than we wanted at the request of the hotel staff, we gathered our backpacks and waited for Sanjit and Nishan in the lobby. We departed around 9 AM for the 7+ hour drive up to Lachung. We thought the road on the way to Gangtok was dangerous. Little did we know that was just the introduction to what we would experience on the drive from Gangtok to Lachung. If G and I were aware of the dangers these drives possessed, we would have invited C to join us for a different part of our global trek. He has a baby back home. Alas, here we all were, eyes wide and hearts racing as Sanjit drove like a bat out of hell on the crumbling mountainside one-lane road, unable to look away from the unprotected 1500 meters (5,000 ft)+ drop-off.
I’m not exaggerating. This road is absolutely treacherous. People have died here. I had done my research which is why we were here in late November/early December during the dry season. When the snow melts and during the rainy season, landslides aren’t uncommon. I didn’t know the road would be in such poor condition. I’ll attempt to describe it the best I can so you can picture it.
We are at least 1500 meters (5,000 ft) above the ground, oftentimes more. The road hugs the mountainside and is only one lane. That lane is narrow for one car, but this road is intended for two directions. There are many sharp turns and corners. If a car is going too fast or doesn’t honk in a blind spot, an accident is bound to happen. It always felt like we were going too fast (probably because we were), but we honked before every curve and Sanjit was always focused on the road. Occasionally there’s enough room off of the road to pull over to allow a car to pass if needed. Guard rails aren’t anywhere to be found. There’s nothing to stop a vehicle from plummeting to the ground below. Cows roam free and sometimes a cow or two walks in the road. Most people in the villages have scooters, so we had to be extra attentive to numerous scooter drivers near the villages. Construction happens randomly at all hours of the day and night. You never know when you’re going to drive up on a lane widening project or cleanup of a previous landslide. Or, you know, when you’re going to drive through the aftermath of a landslide. Sometimes we’d spot a large pile of boulders and rocks that fell on the side of the road, evidence of a landslide. More than once, a waterfall joined the road, turning the road into a stream with another waterfall over the edge. When we were approaching one of these waterfalls, G saw just how thin this road was, only four inches of asphalt with no earth beneath it, beginning to buckle. We all thought we might die at one time or another on this journey. We don’t have photos that captured it.
All alive and unharmed, we made it to Lachung after dark. We would have arrived earlier but we took a detour to find momos. Sanjit and Nishan found out we liked them and were on a mission to find us some good ones. After a couple of failed attempts, we drove to Nishan’s village because he knew of a good place. It was worth the time added to the drive. We also stopped by a waterfall that had a food shack nearby. This food shack was special. It also had karaoke. An Indian man was singing his heart out and a small crowd was dancing and singing along. Obviously, we had to spend some time there. A friendly Indian couple from Kolkata asked us where we were from and we all talked about the tours we were on. This far north, C, G, and I were the only white people and we’re guessing, especially since 2020, we were probably some of the only, if not the only white people a lot of the locals had seen. We didn’t mind at all and we didn’t feel unwelcomed.
Music was a way to distract ourselves from our potential peril. C and I connected our phones to the car’s Bluetooth and shared some of our favorite music with them. Everyone loved the song G and I discovered in Norway, called “Bad Booty”. And no doubt, Border Roads Organization was a real good guy BRO, always looking out by providing safety advice and inspirational messages.
We were getting closer to our hotel now, situated in a beautiful valley with river and mountain views (although we’d have to wait until the next day to see them). First, we had to go through another checkpoint. Nishan got out of the car and handled all of our paperwork and permits with the guards. We were officially entering North Sikkim. When he got back in the car, he had an ominous warning for us. The roads weren’t the only danger. “Don’t eat or drink anything the locals offer you because you might die.” I’m sorry, what now?
Allegedly, there are a handful locals in North Sikkim who are part of a small, cultlike religious group that poisons people as part of a ritual. We asked if tourists were targeted and he said no, other locals have been poisoned as well. Nishan spoke English well, but this topic was difficult to translate, so some of the details remain unclear to us. The poison takes about 24 hours to kill someone. We think the intention of the poisoning is to somehow benefit the decedent in death. Of course, we tried to research this on our own, but didn’t come up with any real answers. After all, we were in the middle of nowhere in northeastern India. Maybe he was just making this up but we don’t think so based on his own eating habits in the area. We definitely wouldn’t eat anything adventurous without approval from our guide. But, the following day, we did still eat something quite adventurous and something I never thought I’d eat.
A short drive later, we arrived at our hotel where we ate a safe and large dinner before retreating to our room on the top floor for the night. Tomorrow we were going to the last place civilians are allowed in North Sikkim, Zero Point.
November 30, 2022 - Zero Point, Strange Treats, Hotsprings, and the Dracula Ride.
(T) - Since we had opted to add on Zero Point, sitting at around 4,700+ meters (15,300+ ft) and the last place civilians could go in India due to the close proximity to China, to our adventure, we had to leave our hotel at 5:30 AM. Now, I am a night owl all day every day, so waking up and being ready by 5:30 AM is not an easy task for me. I groggily sat down in the lobby at 5:25. Nishan and Sanjit don’t arrive at 5:30. 15 minutes go by and I send them a message. No reply. Another 10 minutes go by and I try messaging them again. Nothing. It’s 6:00 AM now and I’m hoping they’re ok. I try calling and no one answers. We don’t know which hotel they’re in. I try calling another 2 times. I was getting ready to call our tour operator to figure out what to do and the hotel receptionist was also becoming concerned for us. Blaring music grows louder and louder as Sanjit and Nishan drove down the hill. They strolled into the lobby with smiles on their faces. My fuse was about to blow. I was past capacity and their smiles immediately disappeared when they looked at me. G and C were also annoyed but they were still friendly. I was direct with them, calling them out on being 45 minutes late and asked why they didn’t answer the phone. Nishan looked at his phone and apologized. I didn’t forgive them yet and just said “let’s go”. My anger was intimidating and they both apologized multiple times and tried to cheer me up on the drive to Zero Point. After some time, I calmed down. When I felt their apologies were genuine I said I forgive them and I let it go. C made a funny remark about making sure they were on time for the rest of the trip. We all laughed and left it at that. They were on time from then on.
(G)- We had passed a final military checkpoint, after which, Nishan informed us that if anyone asked us where we had gone in the Yum Thang valley tell them that we just went to Yum Thang and definitely not Zero Point… never a dull moment. Wanting to retain plausible deniability, we refrained from inquiring further. As Sanjit tore around the switchbacks that climbed ever higher into the mount pass of Yum Thang valley toward Zero Point the vehicle climbed through a massive rhododendron forest. Nishan told us that the entire portion of the valley here was home to some of the rarest varietals of rhododendron in the world. It was a shame that they were not in season but given the state of the roads it is doubtful we would have been able to make it to this remote area in the springtime. In fact, we could easily see several areas of the road that had just recently been rebuilt after avalanches had torn them asunder.
The rhododendrons eventually gave way to little more than moss and shrubs as the oxygen levels continued to drop. Eventually, all growing things disappeared and we were left with stone and snow. We could now see a row of tarp tents. The blue tarps had been stretched and haphazardly tied over sticks or bits of corrugated steel plates to form these shelters at the top of the world. Sanjit drove past most of them and located the tent of a trusted friend where we stopped. We were assured that we were safe to eat and drink here and were pleased to find that inside the tent was a little wood stove, refreshments of various varieties, and galoshes.
We were each given a pair of boots to wear and once our feet were snugly set in them we rose and exited the tent. The thin air was felt by one and all, but fortunately, none of us suffered any symptoms of altitude sickness as we walked to the end of the road. Posted to the left of the road was the sign declaring Zero Point. We stood there for a little while and took in the view. The road continued onward and was now strictly a military road that followed the saddle between great peaks on either side until it disappeared entirely.
After catching our breath and snapping a few quick photos of the place that we (wink wink) definitely didn’t visit, we decided to go for a little hike. We crossed a small river and started up the side of a mountain. We paused a short way up to play a little game of what can best be described as ice hockey soccer. C, T, Nishan, and I slipped around merrily kicking chunks of ice across a frozen section of the hill, nearly but never actually falling. After our childish game, we continued up the mountain just a tiny bit before Nishan recommended we turn back.
We returned to the shelter of the blue tarp tent, we removed our loaned boots and enjoyed a few tiny cups of tea. As we sat together we chatted with a few other guests, locals, and the woman who ran the tent. During our conversation, T mentioned her fascination with collecting foreign currency, one of the locals asked us if we had any US dollars as they collected different currencies as well. We only had four dollars, we traded them around or gifted them to the locals. T acquired a Nepalese dollar and Malaysian money and was quite pleased with the trade.
Around this time, Nishan asked us if we would like to try Yartsa Gunbu. He had mentioned this before in the car, but it remained unclear exactly what it was. Described to us as both a plant and a bug, we weren’t totally certain what we were in for. Never ones to shy away from local delicacies we all agreed to give whatever it was a shot. After some haggling, the woman of the tent produced a small napkin filled with small sticklike items. Upon closer inspection, the “sticks” were each about 5 cm (2 inches) long, with one half a bit thicker than the other. Well, we collectively toasted each other and popped them into our mouths. They had little if any flavor and tasted as much like a stick as they looked, though significantly easier to chew than an actual stick would have been. We would later learn that Yartsa Gunbu is actually the result of a fungus that highjacks the body and brain of the rare Ghost Caterpillar, essentially turning it into a zombie before killing it to produce the fungal fruiting body. The scientific name of this phenomenon is Ophiocordyceps sinensis. It is extremely rare and is only found above 3,500 meters (12,000 ft) on the Tibetan Plateau in Tibet and in the Himalayan regions. The thick part of our sticks had been the caterpillar, the thin part had been the fungal fruiting body.
After our little stickish snack, we were presented with another interesting item. Rhododendron wine, who knew that was even a thing? The small clear plastic bottle containing the semi-frozen red-pink wine had clearly originally been used for some other drink prior to serving as a wine bottle, but with the assurance of Nishan that we would not be poisoned to death by our hostess, we decided to purchase the bottle to enjoy on the return drive. After this little acquisition, we returned to the car where Sanjit was prepared as ever to show us the meaning of speed. Turning back the way we had arrived we began down the mountain valley which presented us with breathtaking views.
A short way down the valley and well before we hit the treeline again, we turned off on a small side road that lead into a different valley than the one we had arrived through. Nishan informed us that we were headed to the more secluded hot springs than the ones that most of the tourists frequent. We arrived at a small building surrounded by steaming pools and prayer flags. T and C had it in mind to simply jump into the hot springs outside of the building, but we decided against it since it was impossible to determine if the temperature of the water and mud at the bottom of these pools would inflict burns.
Why exactly someone had determined it necessary to block the spectacular view of the mountains that surrounded these springs with a high-walled concrete building will remain a mystery to us. The building was dingy, dirty, and unimpressive. The building housed a small concrete pool fed by the hot springs directly outside of it. The pool within it seemed clean enough, though there was trash and litter in the changing room adjacent to it. Determined to disallow the lackluster setting to rob us of warming ourselves we decided to jump in the pool.
After a half hour to forty-five minutes, we were all ready to dry off and carry on. As we walked back to our vehicle, we expressed our dismay at finding so much trash, cigarette butts, and litter in several of the locations that we had visited to Nishan. He empathized with us and explained that most of the litterbugs were unfortunately the Indian tourists from regions outside of Sikkim that would visit. The government of Sikkim recently received global recognition for strict new laws banning single-use plastics, a point that was echoed and applauded by Nishan and several of the other locals we met, but we also watched as Indian tourists from other parts of the country simply threw their trash on the ground. It seemed that they had no sense of respect for the environment.
Trash and litter are generally speaking a fundamental human problem, but it seems there are some cultures that actively work to manage their waste and others that readily accept littering without a thought. We experienced both cultures while traveling in India. While we feel it is important to not fall into the trap of over-generalizing an entire country we have to report honestly that we were more often presented with the latter culture of inconsiderate litterbugs and it would prove to be a nagging negative valley of our experience.
Our journey back down to Yum Thang valley was as swift as the roads would allow. T, C, and I each tried a bit of the Rhododendron wine, which was sweet and floral as one might expect, and remained clear-headed due to the three-way split of an already very small bottle which was just as well given our high altitude. Our bags had been held by our hotel where we returned in time for lunch. With the long drive back to Gangtok ahead of us, we had every intention of enjoying a light lunch, however, we had forgotten that India will not allow guests to leave on less than a full stomach.
To give some context, we ordered one appetizer and one main dish to split between the three of us. We received three soups, three salads, three appetizers, three main dishes of different varieties, and three sizable desserts. Granted, they only charged us for one appetizer and one main dish which added to our confusion. This goes down as one of the most comical instances of too much of a good thing. The food was really excellent.
Once again stuffed to the brim we prepared to begin the return journey to Gangtok. The return journey was long and perhaps even more harrowing than our daylight trip into the valley. Night had fallen well before we had reached the halfway point. The already treacherous roads were all the more ominous in the dark. This journey through the dark at breakneck speed reminded me of the beginning of Bram Stoker’s Dracula when Jonathan Harker is ominously trapped in a black stagecoach which, for the fear of Dracula, the driver never allows to slow down on the dangerous mountain roads. Mercifully, after several hours of speeding through the inky black night, we could see the lights of Gangtok appear below us and we returned safely to the Lemontree hotel. The jerking back and forth of the road had taken a toll on all three of us and we were quick to call it a night.
December 1, 2022 - BRO, Alpine Lake, Monastery Visit, & MG Marg
(G)- The next morning, we enjoyed another very full breakfast before setting out to visit Tsomgo Lake. We were relieved to find the roads significantly wider, with two lanes in most places instead of the single-lane road of the previous night. Still, the height of the sheer drop off to the side of these mountain roads was at once awe-inspiring and a bit anxiety-inducing. We were fortunate that the morning was clear and provided us with a spectacular view of Kanchenjunga. The hour-and-a-half drive to the lake was mild in comparison to our previous few days of driving and we had been delightfully distracted by a prolific number of BRO signs along the way. These signs kept us so entertained that before we knew it we had arrived at Tsomgo Lake.
We were solicited Yak rides by some of the local Yak handlers, but the lake was small and we felt the beautifully decorated yaks would likely be perfectly content to remain laying in the sunshine. We walked around the lake which was clean and pleasant though not overly impressive. T collected a few stray plastic bottles that had been abandoned to the side of the path on our walk back to the car. We took a few moments to walk through the local market. T purchased a new pair of wool socks as her original pair had long been past their prime and large holes had formed in the heels.
The clouds had rolled in by the time we started our return journey which gave the mountain roads a spooky and mysterious quality. The tattered prayer flags that flapped in the wind added to the ambiance. Soon the sunshine broke through the clouds as we descended back to Gangtok. We stopped at Enchey Monastery which is one of the oldest and most sacred of the monasteries in Sikkim. We enjoyed turning the thousands of prayer wheels and chuckled at the trash panda, not to be confused with a raccoon. The artwork within this monastery was some of the most impressive we viewed.
It was late afternoon when we finally arrived at the much-anticipated MG Marg. The pedestrian-only street was flanked on both sides by shops three or four stories high, with various alcoves, alleys, and stairwells that would disappear into a maze of shops tucked behind the ones immediately visible. This was a vivacious place, with a multitude of items to offer, but after a spirited search for a new hat to replace my lost one, T was starting to show signs of hunger behavior so we decided to settle into a quiet little cocktail bar, and grab a bite to eat. We spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening wandering the other shops and restaurants before eventually catching a cab back to Lemontree Hotel. All told MG Marg was a popping place.
December 2, 2022 (T) - Big Buddha and Mountain Views
Last night we said our goodbyes to Sanjit and Nishan. We had a new driver picking us up to go to Pelling, about 5 hours west of Gangtok. We sadly do not remember his name, but it took about 5 minutes for C, G, and I to realize we can relax in the car now. He slowed down before turning, music was quiet, and we didn’t have to lean with the curves. Our driver was much more chill than Sanjit. Sanjit was, no doubt, a skilled driver, but I welcomed this more laid-back, cautious driving style. The roads were, overall, in better condition compared to the roads we drove on during our first few days and we were much lower in elevation.
However, a couple of hours into our drive, we were stopped by a mound of boulders blocking the road, and construction was in process of removing them. They were cleaning up damage from a landslide. I don’t know how long ago it had happened. We had to turn around and take an alternate route. Fortunately, the other road we could take wasn’t far away.
Another 30 minutes had passed. Our driver pointed at the mountain across the river and informed us that a landslide tumbled down just a week ago. All the villages were safe, thankfully. It was outside of landslide season, but a one-off can always happen. Especially the way some of these roads aren’t maintained. I played some of the drives from the past few days in my mind thinking of how easily we could’ve been caught up in one and I was grateful we weren’t. The most dangerous roads were all behind us now.
When we were about an hour outside of Pelling, we stopped to visit Buddha Park in Ravangla. The park is situated on a high plateau with beautiful views of Kanchenjunga and it housed a monastery, gardens, a sleeping Buddha, and a 130ft statue of Buddha. We walked around the park, read inspirational Buddhist signs, walked up the stairs to the statue, and went inside the statue. An art gallery spiraling up the statue gave a history of Buddhism in Hindi and English. It was well done and informative. We spiraled back down, left the statue, spun some prayer wheels, and made our way toward the car. We stopped by a snack shack and picked up some Lays chips. My favorite flavor was sweet chili, which was delicious and I’ve only found it in India.
We arrived at our hotel around sunset. Perfect timing. The view of Kanchenjunga from our porch was wonderful. We watched the sunset and then went to the hotel’s kitchen for dinner. Fortunately, this one was a buffet so we weren’t worried about overeating.
December 3, 2022 (G) - Skywalk, Rabdentse Ruins, and a Slow Night.
We woke and enjoyed a light breakfast before setting out with our driver to visit a few waterfalls and then stopped by an Orangery. On the way to the first waterfall, we stopped at a black cardamom plantation. The spice had a wonderful and interesting depth to it that was uniquely enjoyable. While at the Orangery we happily found poinsettia trees which given the season made us feel festive in spite of the lack of snow.
Next up was another sacred mountain lake. Much like the alpine lake we had visited a few days prior the lake itself was clean and pretty, but it was the hike up to a viewpoint above it that we enjoyed most. Along the hike up there was a cave where a Guru still lived, though it was closed to the public we could still hear chanting and smell incense as we passed.
Next up was the Skywalk. Situated at the bottom of another large buddha statue and temple, the steel and glass walkway extended out over a cliff face to provide a pleasant view of Kanchenjunga. After taking in the view, we headed up the steps to visit the temple. At the top of the temple, C was commandeered by a local man to be part of their family photo. So T and I joined in as well.
We then visited another monastery before visiting the ruins of Rabdentse Palace.
The Rabdentse ruins were touted to us as the Macchu Picchu of India. Truthfully they were not on the same level by a long shot. They did occupy a hilltop that offered a nice view, but the ruins themselves were built between the 1600-the 1800s and lacked the impressive scale of Macchu Picchu. While they were nice enough as ruins go the Rabdentse ruins would likely benefit from not being compared to Macchu Picchu.
After the ruins, we grabbed a late lunch in town before returning to the Magpie hotel for a nice quiet evening.
December 4, 2022 (T) - Darjeeling Bound
Today was the day we traveled to our last destination in India, Darjeeling. We ate breakfast, gathered our bags then were picked up for the 4-hour drive. A new driver, Sachin, accompanied us on the rest of our journey. He was an excellent, calm driver and he spoke English very well and was a friendly fellow. This hotel was by far the most upscale place we stayed so we had pretty high expectations. We checked in and then ventured forth to the bustling markets of Darjeeling.
I was still waiting for the chaotic market experience where shopkeepers attempted to harass me into buying something and followed me for a while. If you look up shopping in markets in India online you’ll be inundated with horror stories of harassment. However, the market experience in Darjeeling was downright relaxing and pleasant. Different streets were designated for different items. There were separate streets lined with stores for shoes, jewelry, clothes, etc. As we snaked through the streets in search of nothing in particular and also a hat for G, never once were we even approached to be convinced to buy anything. If we had questions, the proprietors would happily answer us and if we didn’t buy anything we would say thank you and they would wish us a good day. I was starting to get hangry, so the only items we purchased were some delicious baked goods from a small bakery. We continued our search for the hat but came up empty-handed. We had been wandering for quite a while now and I was hungry again. We found a fast-food type of establishment with delicious-looking wraps, so we stopped there for a light lunch. It was the right call.
We walked all the way back to the hotel where we parked ourselves in the fancy hotel bar for a couple of drinks before it was time for dinner. Dinner here was buffet style like the previous hotel and the food was very tasty. After eating dinner, we found the hotel library where we watched a documentary on Everest and then decided to call it an early night because we had a 3:15 AM wake-up the following morning. It ended up being a late night.
Someone close to our room had the TV volume up all the way, to the point where it sounded like the TV was on in our room. I called the front desk 3 separate times over about an hour and a half before they finally moved us to another room that was quiet. The room itself was overall nicer, but, unfortunately, instead of having two comfortable beds, we had one bed and an uncomfortable cot. C slept on the cot that night. We all finally fell asleep around midnight.
December 5, 2022 - Darjeeling Unlimited
(T)- We unknowingly saved our favorite and least favorite activities for the last full day of our tour.
We groggily woke up at 3:15 AM after our brief nap, got ready in a haze, and stumbled out to the car where Sachin was waiting for us. The unreasonably early morning was well worth the lack of sleep. We drove for about an hour through town then through the countryside, then up a large hill that was already packed with cars. Sachin drove us all the way to the top of the hill so we didn’t need to walk far. Tiger Hill is a well-known place near Darjeeling to watch the sunrise over the hillside town with Kanchenjunga as a backdrop. On a clear day, Everest is visible. Over a hundred spectators were already on the platform waiting for the show. Most of them gathered in the direction of the sunrise. C, G, and I figured out where Kanchenjunga was, claimed our place in front with a good view and a railing to balance our phones and GoPro, and waited in the chilly morning air for a couple of hours.
More and more people continued to arrive between when we got there all the way until the sunrise began. The platform was crammed full of at least 1,000 people. Slowly, Darjeeling began to brighten. A faint silhouette of Kanchenjunga appeared and we were satisfied with our viewing spot. We didn’t have a good view of the sunrise, but a few minutes, we’d have front-row seats to a top 10 moment of our whole global trek. Soon all of Darjeeling and Kanchenjunga were visible in the dark pre-dawn light.
As the landscape brightened, the sky turned shades of cotton candy pink and blue, and clouds turned tangerine. The sun had risen.
After another 15 minutes or so, the crowd erupted in cheers as if we were at a concert. The sun had finally reflected its beautiful red-orange morning light on the peak of Mount Kangchenjunga.
We watched in silent awe as the glow slowly spread down the entire mountain and the mountains surrounding it and eventually began to fade to white. Watching the sunrise from Tiger Hill was no less than a spiritual experience.
The day was clear and over to the left, we could see it! The very tippy top of Mount Everest! Pretty incredible, considering it was over 100 miles away.
When the golden hour was over, we walked the short distance back to the car and drove back to our hotel where breakfast was waiting for us. After we ate, we tried to take a short nap before returning to the car. We still had a full day ahead of us.
(G)- After our brief respite, we were off to visit the Darjeeling zoo and Himalayan Mountaineering Institute (HMI). The zoo itself was rather small, but the animals were still provided with ample space and habitat. We very much enjoyed seeing the snow leopard, red pandas, and golden pheasants. These three in particular were especially unique and interesting. The golden pheasant is probably the most beautiful bird I’ve ever seen.
The HMI was a treasure trove for any aspiring mountaineering enthusiast. It held relics from some of the most ambitious of the early attempts to summit Everest as well as items from Sir Edmund Hillary’s successful summit. There were also more contemporary items such as modern gear used and a large map area which could be used to improve one’s understanding of the geography and various summits nearby. The HMI is still an active school for mountaineers and regularly sends out expeditions to train new guides. Darjeeling is considered to be one of the gateways to the Himalayas. All told, for two old climbing junkies like C and I it was a wonderful experience.
Originally, the day’s itinerary called for us to visit one of the many tea plantations that clung to the steep mountain foothills around Darjeeling. Unfortunately, on this particular day, the tea which had recently been harvested was still being processed and our visit had to be postponed. Instead, we went directly to the Tibetian Refugee Center.
I was extremely fortunate to have previously visited the very southeastern edge of the Tibetan plateau with my older sister 13 years prior to entering the Refugee Center. I had seen and heard firsthand the discrimination and maltreatment of the Tibetans by the Han Chinese (the ethnic majority and ruling party of mainland China) during my visit there. The one that I most readily recall was translated to me by my sister which was the story of a Tibetan woman who ran an inn that the Han Chinese visited. When they left the inn they stole nearly everything the woman had, including paintings off the walls. The woman attempted to take her plight to the police, but since they too were Han Chinese she was simply ignored and turned away. In my youth, the visit there struck me hard and has stuck with me ever since. When I returned from that trip I investigated further the position of Tibet and the Tibetan people. Rather than recount all of the atrocities committed by the Peoples' Republic of China, in the past and present I will let a few of the photos we found within the Center speak for themselves.
As we walked around the refugee center I felt a deep and abiding sorrow. Many of the people now living here had never been to Tibet having been born in exile from their captive country. The older ones bore in their faces the marks of a long and difficult life far from home. Still even through their difficult circumstances, many found joy. One such man sat alone in a room next to the window with his sewing machine. He worked quietly with knarled hands sewing the edge of a gorgeously woven scarf. We had entered the room quietly and when he looked up from his work he cracked a great smile that revealed a few missing teeth. The pure welcoming joy of that smile broke my heart a little. What great strength and resilience this man had! I asked him in the language of gestures if I could take his photograph. He smiled again, nodded, and posed for this shot, the smile still lingered in his eyes as I took the shot, though he returned his lips to a bit of a serious look.
This may be the best portrait I have ever had the pleasure of taking.
After seeing this man, we walked around for a little while longer and visited a carpet factory within the center. The people make many handicraft goods and wool scarves. T, C, and I each purchased a scarf and then a few more for friends with the intention of mailing a package back instead of carrying it for the remainder of our travels. The scarf that T purchased quickly became one of her most cherished clothing articles, but the reason and necessity of its production were not lost on any of us. Thoroughly moved by our experience we left the Tibetan Refugee Center with a quiet poignant tone.
With lingering reflective thoughts we arrived at a Japanese Temple and Peace Pagoda. We walked around the temple which was in the middle of a service of some sort involving rhythmic drumming and chanting. Not wanting to disturb the service, we moved off to view the Peace Pagoda returning to the car.
(T)- It was late afternoon and we were pretty hungry, so Sachin dropped us off at one of his recommended restaurants. It was a great recommendation. I had yet another paneer dish. We were pressed for time because we needed to make it to our Toy Train ride. The Toy Train is an old steam train that runs through Darjeeling and circles around some hillsides. It’s a UNESCO site, so I had built up the experience in my mind to be a relaxing train ride with pretty views of Darjeeling and the mountains. This turned out to be the most disappointing experience on the tour for all of us.
We arrived at the station with time to spare. We figured out which track our train would arrive at and waited. It rolled into place and we boarded, taking our reserved first-class seats. The train cars were newer, built in only 2015, but I’m fairly certain that may have been the last time they were deep cleaned. After everyone boarded the cramped cars, we took off. Turns out, there is no class. The route was not at all scenic. It went through the middle of town, like in the street for the majority of the journey. At one point, it stopped near the monastery we visited earlier in the day and we were given 10 minutes to walk around and take pictures. We hopped off for a few minutes. Then we went to a different part of town where we stopped again. It was unclear as to why we stopped, but there was some type of festival going on. We exited the train again, walked around a little, then got back on. Finally, it was time to go back. What we thought was going to take 45 minutes took upwards of 2 hours, and we were all covered in soot and had the beginnings of headaches thanks to the overbearing whistle of the steam train every 5 minutes or less. Disappointed, we were ready to go back to the hotel and relax. Sachin wasted no time picking us up.
When we arrived at the hotel, we spent some time in the fancy bar, debriefing the peaks and valleys of our journey in India. We ate dinner, returned to the room to pack up our backpacks for the return to Dehli, and went to sleep. We were so tired from the long day. I slept on the cot this time.
December 6, 2022 - Tea Time and Ta Ta
(G)- We left our items to be mailed with the hotel concierge that fortunately was able to handle the postage piece of things for us (though we did end up with a few items missing from what we left with them which we would frustratingly learn of later though it remains unclear if this was the fault of the concierge or customs) and ate a hasty breakfast before walking to the entrance to meet our driver. In short order, we had left behind the tight streets of Darjeeling and entered the steep tea-covered mountain foothills that surround it. It was little more than an hour and a half before we stopped at one particularly pleasant tea plantation.
We didn’t have terribly long but still enjoyed about an hour of sipping tea and munching scones together on a balcony that overlooked the tea fields below. The hosts of the tea shop presented us with a wide variety of teas to choose from so we each picked a unique option. All of those we chose were pleasant.
After this little break, we hopped back into the car and continued the downward journey from the mountain foothills toward Bagdroga. On the way, our driver told us that the stretch of land we were crossing was home to wild elephants that could often be spotted from the road. We kept our eyes peeled, but sadly never spotted any elephants.
There was one particular intersection in which we encountered a pair of beggar children. The children, a small boy and slightly larger girl, circled our vehicle. Our driver quickly locked the doors and waved them off, but they remained and pounded some on the sides of the car until the light changed and we continued on our way. The experience was difficult, but giving handouts to these children only encourages their systemic exploitation and discourages them from returning to school.
(T)
We arrived in Bagdroga and had one final pit stop to make before reaching the airport. Vikash, our tour coordinator, had been wonderful about keeping in contact with us from months before our tour even began and all throughout the tour. He made time to meet up with us to introduce himself before we left. We all introduced ourselves and talked about the highlights of the trip and thanked him for meeting with us.
While we were boarding our plane to Delhi, a man was sitting in our row. C informed him that we had the whole row. Confused, the man asked, “you have the entire row?” after a pause, C pointed at G and I and confirmed it. The man moved a row ahead of us. Another passenger stopped when she got to his seat. He had taken her seat as well. He knew which one was his but just decided he was going to take a better one. He looked at her seat and told her that hers is an aisle seat too so they should just switch. Not feeling like arguing, she continued down the aisle. I thought this was strange and very selfish behavior but an isolated incident. It wasn’t. G witnessed another person attempting to steal someone else’s window seat. That attempt failed. We found this to be incredibly rude.
However, it’s the Delhi airport we need to focus on. C, G, and I all loathe the Delhi airport. The ironic signs posted throughout the airport boasting its win of #1 airport in central Asia LIE! A lie, I tell you. Delhi airport is the worst airport all 3 of us have ever had the displeasure of going to. I’ll try to not rant for too long.
We had a long layover before C flew back to the US and G and I flew off to Laos, so our plan was to hangout in the lounge. We were checked into our international flights and had our e-tickets ready. Well, e-tickets are not acceptable in the Delhi airport because they need to physically stamp a ticket. An e-ticket is totally void even if you’re checked in. We began our game of ping pong with other people essentially telling us “you’re not my problem, go here.”, some clearly laughing at us, mocking us foreign tourists. We spent over an hour trying to get someone to simply print our tickets to no avail. Our only option at this point was to wait for in-person check-in. While we were waiting, C did his best to find someone, anyone, who could help. No luck. I noticed a couple of roaches crawl close to me on the bench we were waiting on and was more than ready to leave this country. We had to wait for more than 3 hours to check-in. C managed to check in early so he was going to secure a spot at the lounge for us, which of course wasn’t open. G and I had to wait even longer than anticipated, because, get this. Our airline’s crew was held up in the airport’s ridiculous security. Eventually, we made it through and met up with C at an Irish pub. We hung out there for a little while and then I was going to save us spots at another restaurant. I was turned away because I wasn’t flying business class. Flushed with anger and embarrassment, I returned to the Irish pub to let C and G know what happened, suggesting we go somewhere else. We all returned to the same restaurant as a group. Funny that no one questioned our ticket status now that I was in a group with two males. What a disappointing display of outward classism and sexism all at once. We ended up not staying there anyways because their menu didn’t have half of what it offered. We resigned to waiting in regular seats before it was time to board.
When the time came, we all hugged each other and said our goodbyes and safe travels.
G and I couldn’t wait to be somewhere else now.
India had some really high highs and some really low lows. The valleys will likely prevent us from returning for a long time, if ever again, even though we know there are many other peaks within the country.