Travelling north for Holi

The national holiday for Holi and the holiday for Good Friday gave me a unique opportunity to do some independent travelling in India over a slightly longer period of time. The other members of the group had decided to go to Goa, but with escalating prices I decided that I did not want to pay over the odds to go somewhere that I was not really that fussed about. So, with the reluctant acceptance of Joan at Sannam S4 who was concerned about my welfare, I travelled north on my own to McLeod Ganj, home of the Tibetan Government in exile, and Amritsar.

Leaving Delhi was, strangely enough, logistically the most difficult part of the trip. One of my work colleagues, Shilpi, very kindly offered to take me to her house which was near to the bus pick up point. From there her uncle took me to the bus stop on the back of a motorbike. When I found the bus I found that the service had changed so that I would take a bus to a bigger bus station where I would take another bus onto McLeod Ganj. I would have been a bit concerned about this, but as there were other passengers going to the same place it seemed to be ok. At the bigger bus station those of us going to McLeod Ganj were told to wait for about 10 minutes for the other bus to arrive. Inevitably as this is India it was actually closer to an hour. But the bus did come and, although I was not in the seat initially booked on, I was at last on my way to McLeod Ganj and my journey had begun.

I arrived in McLeod Ganj at 6am the following morning. I had got some sleep, but I was still quite tired. I was staying at the Hotel Mount View which was a short walk from the bus station and they generously allowed me to sleep in another room until my room was ready for check in at 12 noon. They were telling the truth about the view, with the mountains ascending behind the hotel and clearly visible from my room balcony.

McLeod Ganj is both a popular backpacker destination and the centre of a long and protracted political struggle. Those twin roles go hand in hand and that is what makes it such a fascinating destination. On the streets there are a number of stalls selling scarfs, flags and other memorabilia to western tourists. But at the heart there is a serious struggle for the freedom of the Tibetan people and the Dalai Lama is a political leader with objectives like any other, even if the means are different. Around the town I found posters and graffiti pledging support for the Tibetan cause, while there were monuments to those who had died in the freedom struggle.

If I’m honest the museum on the Tibetan freedom struggle was a slight disappointment. Half of it was closed for no apparent reason, while the rest of it seemed to be more propaganda than being in any way informative. It was filled with artefacts which were attempting to prove that Tibet should be free. There was a coin collection with a sign claiming that this proved that Tibet was an independent nation. But I think it is fair assumption that most visitors already agreed that Tibet should be free and would have been far more interested in artefacts from the freedom struggle itself. I understand that they are engaged in a propaganda war because other weapons are not available, but I just didn’t think it was helpful to their cause to present the museum in this way.

During the day I saw a little cinema showing English films and so decided to go in the evening to see Django Unchained. I was a bit concerned that they might not let me in with my bag as I’d been told this was common practice in India, so went back to put all my stuff in my hotel first.  I should not have been so worried. In reality it was just a guy with a room, a projector and a laptop on which he had downloaded films almost certainly illegally. It was virtually a private screening and there was only two Americans in there. But full marks for entrepreneurial spirit and it was good to see someone providing a useful service to tourists without trying to rip people off. I also don’t think Tarantino will lose too much sleep about pirated copies of his film being shown to a very small audience in Mcloed Ganj.

The next morning I got up to go on a hiking trek up the mountain. I’d booked it with a tour company the day before and so met my guide for the ascent at 8.30am. I had been struggling a bit with a cold since I left Delhi, but I decided to do it to try to make the most of my time away. Quite soon I realised that it would be a tough days walking. There was a dog that followed us part way up which was nice, but the ground under foot was very uneven and the 200 Rs shoes that I had bought in Old Delhi offered very little grip. The lack of exercise that I have done since arriving in Delhi did not help matters and I had to stop for a water break every 20 minutes. The scenery, however, was stunning. Dharamshala is home to the highest international cricket ground in the world, but even after an hours walk it looked tiny from how far up I was. The guide kept telling me that it was only 20 minutes longer, but, unsurprisingly given the general Indian lack of a concept of time, this was an overambitious estimation.

After 3 and a half hours I finally reached the top. From I could see snow which is something that I had not expected in India. It was very cold and I was glad of the chai which was being served a café at the top.  I had expected the downward journey to be easy in comparison. I could not have been more wrong. Within ten minutes of leaving the top the heavens opened with not rain, but hailstones. With the guide I tried to huddle under a tree, but it was pointless. I was soaked through and freezing very quickly. My shoes, which had been unhelpful going up, were now positively useless as I was trying not to slip over the wet ground. For every step there was a decision as to whether to take the pain of the sharp rocks or wade through the water that had now melted from the hailstones. The hailstones turned to rain and after a couple of hours stopped completely. But by the time I got to the bottom I was wet, cold and exhausted. Yes I was glad that I had done it, but it would have been so much more comfortable in better weather.

The following morning, after buying an emergency jumper and putting my wet clothes in plastic bags at the bottom of my rucksack, I set off for Amiritsar. This involved taking a rickshaw to Dharamshala and then a local bus to the regional transport hub of Pathankot, where I could get another local bus to Amritsar. Local buses are very different to the private tourist bus that I used to get to Mcleod Ganj. They are much more basic and crowded, with people getting on and off on a regular basis. I was sitting near the door on the first one I was on and there was a leak from the door so that every time someone opened it to get on I would get wet. But overall, despite being warned about them, the local buses were not too bad. The views between Dharamshala and Pathankot were amazing and it was good that I had taken the journey in the day. I had not felt like doing much that day after my exertions the day before so it was good to sit and watch the environment change around me. By the time I got to Amritsar it was too late to go to see the Waga border changing of the guards. But I’ve since been told that it can be an uncomfortable experience as they are very hot on security so I am not too disappointed to have missed it.

Arriving in Amritsar I took a cycle rickshaw to my hotel. Unlike in Delhi these are uncovered and so I felt a lot more exposed on what is essentially the back of a bike going against the traffic.

From my hotel I visited the Golden Temple. This Sikh Temple is one of the most popular and sacred sites in India. Before entering I had to remove my shoes and covered my head. The temple is surrounded by water, with the gold reflecting in the water which is particularly beautiful at sunset. Around me there were thousands of people engrossed in their own deeply personal and religious activities. In a way I felt that as a tourist I was interrupting simply by being there. Like I could not be a fly on the wall and just observe, because by entering this very spiritual place I was contaminating it with my cynicism. That is not to say that I felt unwelcome, but just a little uncomfortable sharing something that was clearly so important to so many, but for me was, in effect, just another tourist site to take pictures of and move on.

The following morning I visited the site of the Jallianwala Bagh massacre. The massacre was the darkest day in Anglo-Indian relations as, at the height of the independence struggle, the British General Reginald Dyer ordered soldiers to shoot at a crowd of peaceful protesters. It has now been turned into a garden in memory of the protesters who died that day. There are few times when I am embarrassed to be British. This was one. I considered whether it would be worth feigning an American accent if anyone tried to speak to me. I quickly rejected this idea because I can’t do accents and this would have only made things worse. As it was the people around me were not unfriendly and most just wanted pictures with me. I was not really in the mood for pictures, but hardly felt I could refuse in the circumstances of where I was.

Overall it had been a good trip and I had seen a lot. I got back on Saturday night completely exhausted and was glad I had a day to recover for going to work on Monday. I’m a bit behind in terms of updating my blog and have done a lot since returning from Amritsar. But until my next entry please check out the blog of my fellow intern, Sam, if you want to get another perspective on life in India.