ROAD TRIP
A far-stretched desolate moonscape thousands of feet above, with mammoth mountains keeping a careful watch, rugged terrains calling for adventurous detours, monasteries reminding of Tibetan mores, and not a soul in sight for miles—Spiti valley in Himachal
Fasten your seat belts for an unforgettable journey on a 4x4 through the breathtaking Spiti valley in Himachal Pradesh.
DAY 1
“This trip was going to be more about the journey”—I had declared before we hit the road to explore Spiti, a desert mountain valley in the Himalayas. But the thought of driving through scattered villages in a serrated moonscape, where turquoise-grey ribbon of the River Spiti and steep gorges are the only constants, drove us to cruise through NH44 for an overnight journey from New Delhi to Manali.
The roads started to disappear once we crossed the main town of Manali. However, we managed to avoid the usual traffic snarl at Rohtang Pass, and with our permits in place, we had crossed this proverbial gateway to Lahaul and Spiti in no time. As we drove through the dramatically changing landscapes, the temperature too took a plunge. No more honking cars or cellphone networks; the greens of the mountains were now replaced by solid greys and browns, and paved pathways turned into rocky trails—it was a whole new world waiting on the other side.
It had been a couple of hours since we trundled through the rock-strewn paths ahead of Rohtang Pass, and I had just started to curl up in the passenger seat, when our 4x4 came to a screeching halt. Ahead of us, a convoy of cars, with their engines still roaring and windscreen wipers swinging, had queued up. An SUV was stuck in the notorious streams of Pagal Nala or the ‘mad stream’. This was quite a common sight in these parts, I was told. Dusk had started to fall when, after an hour of waiting, Sumit— my friend and in current situation, the man behind the steering wheel—decided to take charge and help the beast out of the muck.
Fastened to the SUV with a rope, our 4x4 roared as it strained to move forward, the two rear wheels swaying in the air. Both baffled and thrilled at once, I sat in my seat struggling to stay glued to it as everything else flung about inside the car. Locals came out in the pouring rain to watch the ‘show’, and were now cheering us on. Finally, struggling between the cheers and chills, both the cars were free.
Acknowledging the applause from the thrilled audience, we continued our journey to Chandra Taal. With no navigational help, we snaked our way through pitch darkness for a couple of hours, before we finally saw a few lights dimly gleaming at the camp site near Chandra Taal. Completely wagged out, I dozed off in no time.
STAY Spiti Expedition Tour and Travels Camps (+91 94184-01551) and Tenzin Camps (+91 89883-13473) offer comfortable camps in Chandra Taal.
DON’T MISS On the way to Chandra Taal via Batal, get a glimpse of the Bara Shigri Glacier—the largest glacier in the state.
DAY 2
The following morning, I woke up to the patter of rain falling over my tent. We didn’t have
time to wait for it to stop, so off we went trekking to the crescent-shaped ‘moon lake’ that gives Chandra Taal its name. By now, the declining oxygen levels had started to drain us down, and the easy trek to Chandra Taal felt rather taxing with rain still pouring. But the pristine lake, surrounded by the TransHimalayan range, offered a view that was worth all the effort.
Once past Chandra Taal, jaw-dropping views of the Bara-Shigri Glacier, and the Chandrabhaga Range kept us company at Kunzum Pass. But once you leave Kunzum Pass behind, you are practically on your own. With nothing but colossal mountains all around and hardly a soul in sight for miles, Spiti bares itself as a land of no one at first. But as you slowly traverse through, you find that there’s life veiled deeper in the valley. You could be driving for hours with nothing but the mammoth mountains as company, and suddenly, a little village would pop out of nowhere—with shepherds herding rams and yaks, prayer flags adding colours to the otherwise monotonous landscape, and Tibetan mani stones stacked in the middle of the roads.
After spending the day driving at our own pace, and soaking in the surrounding tranquillity, we made a quick visit to the Key Monastery before it got dark. Perched atop a conical hillock, the largest gompa in Spiti looked like an ethereal citadel of an array of whitewashed monastic buildings. By the time we knocked the door of our rustic homestay in Kaza, the quiet valley had started to look like a piece of untouched magic in faint moonlight.
STAY Hotel Deyzor (starts from `2,600/US $37, hoteldeyzor.com) offers comfortable stays in Kaza.
DON’T MISS Dig into authentic Tibetan food at Sol Café (+91 94188-60099) or Hotel Deyzor’s restaurant (+91 95305-70649) in Kaza. The Kunzum temple is a must-visit to hear fascinating tales from the locals.
DAY 3
Albeit weary from our travels, the thought of making it to Komic was still not lost on us, so we decided to leave Kaza at the crack of dawn. After a few detours, we finally managed to reach the world’s highest village at road’s end—tucked at a crazy height of 15,027 feet (i.e. 4,587 metres) above sea level. An old building housing a restaurant, and a two-room guest house on one side, the Tangyud Monastery on the other, and a village (with a total population of just over 100) nestled just below the monastery ridge—that’s Komic for you. But be it the huge board flashing ‘world’s highest village’, which is noticeable from afar, or the smiling hosts who serve you homemade barley wine to counter acute mountain sickness (AMS)—the tiny township does make it clear that this is as high as you can get.
When we arrived, Tangyud Monastery was playing host to a group of artists that had come all the way from UK to perform a play for the locals. With its mud walls painted in red and yellow, and the hall
dressed to the nines, the monastery was filled with cheers and giggles of children who had gathered from the nearby villages of Langza, Hikkim, and Kaza to watch their friends from faraway lands perform.
Soon, it was dark, and I, after having a hearty meal of stuffed Tibetan bread, a warm Than Thunk bowl, and some barley kheer, crawled up in my cosy little bed at the guesthouse, and immediately fell into a deep slumber. As a sudden nip of icy wind froze me to the bones, I rolled in my bed at midnight, stretched my arm out of the thick quilt to push open the dusty window, and peeped out. And there they were— thousands of glittering stars illuminating the leaden predawn sky, making it look like a vault of heaven. Speechless, I sat, gazing at the celestial beauty with nothing but the occasional sound of the fluttering window breaking the pin-drop silence.
STAY There’s only one guest house and counted homestays at Komic. You can ask your travel organiser to arrange for the stay. DON’T MISS Drop by the world’s highest post office at Hikkim on your way to Komic to send a few postcards back home.
DAY 4
Loud chatters, and a clatter of horses’ hooves woke me up this time. Out of the guestroom,
I saw the highest land, which hardly had any visitors the previous day, herded with locals riding horses, while flocks of tourists strolled around with cameras in hands. A wild horse race from Komic to Langza through the rugged, road-less terrains was soon to start, and it felt like we couldn’t have been in a better place than this that day. But there was still time for the racers to hustle, and we decided to walk to the main village, which is a good 500 metre walk down the monastery. The rocky path, and lack of oxygen paired with cold wind hitting us at high speed, made it anything but a regular stroll.
However, smiling lamas dressed in red, hikers and backpackers chatting with one another while walking towards the village, motorcyclists riding their bikes, and the local crowd waving joyfully at passersby— made Komic a happy little village where life was rather simple. A total of 10 rustic homesteads were home to villagers who mostly earned their livelihood by rearing sheep, yaks, and horses, and partially by growing peas and barley in the few peppered fields. A handful of homestays added to the income at times, which offered basic accommodations with three meals a day to tourists. But the people here surely knew how to have a whale of a time too.
Horses had gathered with riders, the crowd had collected to cheer them up, and we too, had quickly taken our spots to cheer Sonam—a young local chap we befriended at the guesthouse earlier. The race was just about to begin when Sumit suggested that we should chase the horses in our 4x4 to Langza instead of watching them from afar. We quickly sprung in our Thar, and waited for the sound of the starter pistol. No sound, no smoke—a mere loud call cried by a local, and just like that, the race was on before we knew! Dozens of neighing horses started dashing through the dust, and crossed past us in no time. Following no obvious routes (or rules), the horses went out of sight soon after we chased them for a few minutes, careening through the wild terrains down the ridges.
By the time we reached the finishing spot—a sweeping land in Langza with the golden Buddha Statue soaring in the backdrop, the race was over. The freshlycut farmland was brimming with thrilled riders and their horses, and delighted local women serving rice pudding and
barley wine to all. Grinning eye to eye, Sonam gestured ‘three’ with his hand. He had finished third in the race, and it was time for us to celebrate with our friend. As we sat down on the grass amidst these happy villagers, with the pudding and wine in our hands, and smiles on our faces, it hit me—Spiti was a land of no one, as it belonged to everyone.
STAY Langza has plenty of accommodation options. Try Banjara Camps (banjaracamps. com) for a good night’s sleep.
DON’T MISS Make sure to try the keu (a local pasta preparation) and Tibetan tea at Spiti Organic Kitchen (facebook.com/ Nawang333)—the variety and the flavours served at that height is amazing! Tangyud Monastery in Komic and the Buddha Statue in Langza deserve a visit.