McLeod Ganj, Himachal Pradesh, India
September 26th, 2008
September 26th, 2008
I had heard of the Tibetan refuge in India many times. They said it was a magical place and the settings were quite breathtaking. Since I was in New Delhi, I decided to undertake the overnight journey to Dharmshala from where McLeodganj was an hour's ride by local buses.
I reached Dharmshala at around eight in the morning. I have to admit Darhmshala had nothing to offer in terms of experience. In fact, it was much like any other hill station. However it was on the bus ride to McLeodganj that a sense of anxiety gripped my heart slowly. The military cantonment terraced along the slopes of the Shiwaliks and the beautiful War Memorial all seemed to reflect a distinct paradigm shift. At a distance the town of McLeodganj was becoming visible and at first sight I fell in love with it. As the bus rambled along the last few yards towards the town square, I could not help but notice the immense diversity of people and cultures. People of all origins were here to celebrate peace, life, love and God.
I got down at the crowded square at about half past nine an walked along the Bhagsu Road in search of cheap accommodation. Instinctively, I stopped at the most beautiful little cafeteria by the name of Lhamo's Croissant. It was divine. Hot coffee and marble cake sufficed for breakfast. I left the cafe and after a five minutes walk, I was well out of McLeeodganj! It was then that a friendly tourist directed me to some good hotels. I had previously gotten in touch with Mr. Ram from The Kareri Lodge and with his guidance I found a nice place to stay at the absolute edge of McLeodganj. The Hunted Hill Lodge. The views from the large French windows was exquisite. Beyond the conifers I could see the valley drop and the mountains climb...
There was no time to waste and after a quick shower I headed out to the Tsuklagkhang Complex. The Dalai Lama was in McLeodganj preaching his sermon when I reached the Temple. To my misery, I could not go into the Temple due to possession of the camera and mobile phone!
As I walked along the serpentine streets of the hill station many thoughts flooded my head...
There seemed to be something divine in the air and something sublime in the light that gently clad the town. All of a sudden a sense of lightness crept through me and it felt good. The Tibetan structures with their sloping roofs and bright colours rose along the mountain side occupying every small patch of available land within the matrix of winding streets. The sense of urbanity lost its meaning in my head for a moment.
Walking along the streets of McLeodganj, I learnt to appreciate the Tibetans who, in spite of all their troubles were here in this refuge caring for people from all over the world. Tibetan art, architecture, jewellery, music, dance, teachings all flooded onto the streets which were bound on either sides by petite stores.
Hurrying on, I trekked for about two miles unto the neighbouring hill station of Bhagsu. Walking through the ancient Bhagsu Nag Temple through a winding path along the mountain slope, I reached the famed Bhagsu Falls. It was wonderful. The cold, pure water energized my tired spirit with its refreshing spray. I spent about an hour enjoying the beauty of this valley from a small shack below the waterfall itself.
I came back to Mcleodganj by nightfall and settled down for dinner at Jimmy's Italian Kitchen where the live performance was just what I needed to complete the experience! After a swig of scotch in my hillside room I crashed for the night.
The next morning I woke up to the sounds of the birds and the bright daylight flooding through the windows. It was a good day indeed. It was Sunday and it seemed befitting that I should walk down to the Victorian Church outside McLeodganj. Though I missed the mass by just a bit I did spend all of an hour and a half breathing in the serenity. The Grand church with its beautiful stained glass windows and large wooden trusses seemed was just what one would expect of the British in their summer retreat!
A nine mile trek to the neighbouring village led me to the tallest point in the region. On the way, the Sacred Dal Lake offered a lucrative resting place. I settled down for about an hour along the outer fringes of the lake and took a nap under the great trees. The trek through the forests and the narrow walkways rejuvenated my sense of freedom after being stifled by the city in which I lived. After gathering in as much as I could, I headed back to McLeodganj and took refuge in the cozy Lhamo's Croissant. It was all good. The weekend trip was coming to an end and as i sat there on the terrace by the setting sun I started to contemplate.
This was truly a magical place. There seemed to be something strangely emotional about the town that now seemed to hold me back from leaving. As I sat thinking, I could not help but notice all the faces. People from different places and different backgrounds laughing, singing and dancing gleefully. Everyday was a festivity in this land of the Monks.
With a heavy heart in my chest and a won ton in my mouth, I bid the place a fond farewell in the hopes of returning once again...
I reached Dharmshala at around eight in the morning. I have to admit Darhmshala had nothing to offer in terms of experience. In fact, it was much like any other hill station. However it was on the bus ride to McLeodganj that a sense of anxiety gripped my heart slowly. The military cantonment terraced along the slopes of the Shiwaliks and the beautiful War Memorial all seemed to reflect a distinct paradigm shift. At a distance the town of McLeodganj was becoming visible and at first sight I fell in love with it. As the bus rambled along the last few yards towards the town square, I could not help but notice the immense diversity of people and cultures. People of all origins were here to celebrate peace, life, love and God.
I got down at the crowded square at about half past nine an walked along the Bhagsu Road in search of cheap accommodation. Instinctively, I stopped at the most beautiful little cafeteria by the name of Lhamo's Croissant. It was divine. Hot coffee and marble cake sufficed for breakfast. I left the cafe and after a five minutes walk, I was well out of McLeeodganj! It was then that a friendly tourist directed me to some good hotels. I had previously gotten in touch with Mr. Ram from The Kareri Lodge and with his guidance I found a nice place to stay at the absolute edge of McLeodganj. The Hunted Hill Lodge. The views from the large French windows was exquisite. Beyond the conifers I could see the valley drop and the mountains climb...
There was no time to waste and after a quick shower I headed out to the Tsuklagkhang Complex. The Dalai Lama was in McLeodganj preaching his sermon when I reached the Temple. To my misery, I could not go into the Temple due to possession of the camera and mobile phone!
As I walked along the serpentine streets of the hill station many thoughts flooded my head...
There seemed to be something divine in the air and something sublime in the light that gently clad the town. All of a sudden a sense of lightness crept through me and it felt good. The Tibetan structures with their sloping roofs and bright colours rose along the mountain side occupying every small patch of available land within the matrix of winding streets. The sense of urbanity lost its meaning in my head for a moment.
Walking along the streets of McLeodganj, I learnt to appreciate the Tibetans who, in spite of all their troubles were here in this refuge caring for people from all over the world. Tibetan art, architecture, jewellery, music, dance, teachings all flooded onto the streets which were bound on either sides by petite stores.
Hurrying on, I trekked for about two miles unto the neighbouring hill station of Bhagsu. Walking through the ancient Bhagsu Nag Temple through a winding path along the mountain slope, I reached the famed Bhagsu Falls. It was wonderful. The cold, pure water energized my tired spirit with its refreshing spray. I spent about an hour enjoying the beauty of this valley from a small shack below the waterfall itself.
I came back to Mcleodganj by nightfall and settled down for dinner at Jimmy's Italian Kitchen where the live performance was just what I needed to complete the experience! After a swig of scotch in my hillside room I crashed for the night.
The next morning I woke up to the sounds of the birds and the bright daylight flooding through the windows. It was a good day indeed. It was Sunday and it seemed befitting that I should walk down to the Victorian Church outside McLeodganj. Though I missed the mass by just a bit I did spend all of an hour and a half breathing in the serenity. The Grand church with its beautiful stained glass windows and large wooden trusses seemed was just what one would expect of the British in their summer retreat!
A nine mile trek to the neighbouring village led me to the tallest point in the region. On the way, the Sacred Dal Lake offered a lucrative resting place. I settled down for about an hour along the outer fringes of the lake and took a nap under the great trees. The trek through the forests and the narrow walkways rejuvenated my sense of freedom after being stifled by the city in which I lived. After gathering in as much as I could, I headed back to McLeodganj and took refuge in the cozy Lhamo's Croissant. It was all good. The weekend trip was coming to an end and as i sat there on the terrace by the setting sun I started to contemplate.
This was truly a magical place. There seemed to be something strangely emotional about the town that now seemed to hold me back from leaving. As I sat thinking, I could not help but notice all the faces. People from different places and different backgrounds laughing, singing and dancing gleefully. Everyday was a festivity in this land of the Monks.
With a heavy heart in my chest and a won ton in my mouth, I bid the place a fond farewell in the hopes of returning once again...
