Blades of sunshine pour through the glass panes in my room when I wake up in the morning. The sun is up, but its rays haven’t made it to the valley it. The wind blows through the barren trees that flutter and gets very cold. We leave for Lamayuru in a hired cab.
We see monasteries, gurudwaras, praying lamas, Ladakhi locals and a few foreigners.
And there are arrow straight stretches of black top, turquoise blue rivers and villages.
And we see the history of war, military installations and the men in olive green.
But what pervades everything. Domineering. Powerful. Omnipresent - like a guardian angel was the landscape. Any description of Ladakh will have a void if its land is not described. Such a landscape needs to be seen to be believed. It contained everything from lakes, rivers, waterfalls, glaciers, mountains, trees, deserts, snow fields. Every time I looked into the view finder, I could see “layers” of different colours. Mountains of varied hues – yellow, brown, purple, magenta rose to gigantic heights surrounding the plateau.
When J D Hooker visited the Tso Lhamu plateau, he had remarked “Here the land resembles a desert, but the climate is that of the poles”. For Ladakh, that seemed to be more apt.
It is a morning of the brightest kind, the kangri snows sparkling in the sun and dazzling our eyes. There is not a wisp of cloud and the sun creates an intense effect everywhere. Endless stretches of roads that have ended in a turn, on which the vehicles seemed to roll in a slow motion and disappear. The intensity of the sun is unbelievable as we approach noon. It gets difficult to wear the jacket in the closed cabin of the car. There are forests of birch and poplars along the river banks. The vast open spaces, that’s what the plateau is and its periphery is bordered by mountains of high prominence is one where the winds play hard and strong, shaping the landscapes.
We pause at a shop somewhere midway between Leh and Lamayuru for a lunch of maggi, momos, thukpas. Again the momos seemed to disappoint. Apparently the momos served at the fast food shops near our Lake Gardens crossing make better ones. No one is complaining. Just comparing. I enjoyed the maggi more anyway. Instead, considering the fact that we are getting to eat, is a highly welcome thought. Such difficult was the life of the common people that they have to store the produce from the autumn for the long, endless winter ahead.
The shadows grow longer as we drive further ahead. We are travelling through a gorge very close to the river bed, surrounded by high, rocky hills that rise vertically. It is a region of perpetual shadow. The river has frozen in several places. And there is ice and snow scattered along the road. And a couple of frozen waterfalls.
And then we rise, gradually. The Omni feels under powered at times, bogged down by the steep inclines, but it still pulls through. We emerge from the shadows and the hair pins increase and the turns get narrower. We have reached moon land and pause at a brilliant turn which offers fascinating panorama. But it’s not about the photo. We were seeing such an unreal land, that we felt that we should pause – even though for a moment. Furrowed mountain sides, white out tops, strange shaped ridges, craters, mole hills shaped structures – the mind captured it all. It was a strange, strange land .
We visit the Lamayuru monastery and break for a cup of tea at the only outlet open.
The sun has started to sink down. And the far peaks appear golden, and dusk has hit the low lands over which we travel. I see a titled tree against a mountain slope, a lone woman walking along the road side, twinkling lights of a few houses, snow on the ground and on the road sides. And a couple of Ladakh Scout jeeps with “KiKi Soso Lharghyalo” leading a convoy of trucks against the serpentine roads, up the mountain in fading evening light. And in our car, we listen to “Om Mane Padme Hum” chants as the body gets a little weary. But the mind is beaming with energy.
It’s a moment which I always love because its gratifying and happy. Its the sweet spot and every journey has its one. It’s a day well spent.
It is the experience..and that’s what makes every journey unique.
We see monasteries, gurudwaras, praying lamas, Ladakhi locals and a few foreigners.
And there are arrow straight stretches of black top, turquoise blue rivers and villages.
And we see the history of war, military installations and the men in olive green.
But what pervades everything. Domineering. Powerful. Omnipresent - like a guardian angel was the landscape. Any description of Ladakh will have a void if its land is not described. Such a landscape needs to be seen to be believed. It contained everything from lakes, rivers, waterfalls, glaciers, mountains, trees, deserts, snow fields. Every time I looked into the view finder, I could see “layers” of different colours. Mountains of varied hues – yellow, brown, purple, magenta rose to gigantic heights surrounding the plateau.
When J D Hooker visited the Tso Lhamu plateau, he had remarked “Here the land resembles a desert, but the climate is that of the poles”. For Ladakh, that seemed to be more apt.
It is a morning of the brightest kind, the kangri snows sparkling in the sun and dazzling our eyes. There is not a wisp of cloud and the sun creates an intense effect everywhere. Endless stretches of roads that have ended in a turn, on which the vehicles seemed to roll in a slow motion and disappear. The intensity of the sun is unbelievable as we approach noon. It gets difficult to wear the jacket in the closed cabin of the car. There are forests of birch and poplars along the river banks. The vast open spaces, that’s what the plateau is and its periphery is bordered by mountains of high prominence is one where the winds play hard and strong, shaping the landscapes.
We pause at a shop somewhere midway between Leh and Lamayuru for a lunch of maggi, momos, thukpas. Again the momos seemed to disappoint. Apparently the momos served at the fast food shops near our Lake Gardens crossing make better ones. No one is complaining. Just comparing. I enjoyed the maggi more anyway. Instead, considering the fact that we are getting to eat, is a highly welcome thought. Such difficult was the life of the common people that they have to store the produce from the autumn for the long, endless winter ahead.
The shadows grow longer as we drive further ahead. We are travelling through a gorge very close to the river bed, surrounded by high, rocky hills that rise vertically. It is a region of perpetual shadow. The river has frozen in several places. And there is ice and snow scattered along the road. And a couple of frozen waterfalls.
And then we rise, gradually. The Omni feels under powered at times, bogged down by the steep inclines, but it still pulls through. We emerge from the shadows and the hair pins increase and the turns get narrower. We have reached moon land and pause at a brilliant turn which offers fascinating panorama. But it’s not about the photo. We were seeing such an unreal land, that we felt that we should pause – even though for a moment. Furrowed mountain sides, white out tops, strange shaped ridges, craters, mole hills shaped structures – the mind captured it all. It was a strange, strange land .
We visit the Lamayuru monastery and break for a cup of tea at the only outlet open.
The sun has started to sink down. And the far peaks appear golden, and dusk has hit the low lands over which we travel. I see a titled tree against a mountain slope, a lone woman walking along the road side, twinkling lights of a few houses, snow on the ground and on the road sides. And a couple of Ladakh Scout jeeps with “KiKi Soso Lharghyalo” leading a convoy of trucks against the serpentine roads, up the mountain in fading evening light. And in our car, we listen to “Om Mane Padme Hum” chants as the body gets a little weary. But the mind is beaming with energy.
It’s a moment which I always love because its gratifying and happy. Its the sweet spot and every journey has its one. It’s a day well spent.
It is the experience..and that’s what makes every journey unique.
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