Corbett National Park is the oldest national park in India and has a wide variety of flora and fauna. The critically endangered Royal Bengal Tiger rules the jungle here and that has converted this national park into a popular ecotourism destination. However, the park has over 580 species of birds alone. Here are some of the birds I photographed in my recent visit to the park.

Indian Roller or Blue Jay (Coracias benghalensis) is a beautiful, bright bird and is the state bird of 4 states – Karnataka, Andhra Pradesh, Bihar and Orissa. The Roller gets its name from the aerobatic display the male puts up with its twists and turns during the breeding season. The birds have an assortment of colors like bright blue, turquoise, indigo and white on their wings and are a visual treat in flight. They are commonly seen in open grasslands, scrub forests and are often perched on dead trees and electric lines. They are easily one of the most photogenic birds around.

Chestnut-tailed Starling (Sturnia malabarica) is a member of the Starling family of birds. A sub species exists in the Western Ghats which has a white head. These Starlings are omnivorous and feed on insects, nectar and fruits. Like most Starlings, these birds fly in a tight flock and have the ability to change directions rapidly with perfect synchrony.

Crested Serpent Eagle (Spilornis cheela) is a bird of prey that is found widely across many different habitats in India. In comparison to other large raptors, the bird is fairly medium-sized. They hunt for snakes and lizards by flying over the forest canopy. They usually make nests close to a water body. These eagles have a prominent yellow eye and are a treat to watch and photograph.

White-rumped Shama (Copsychus malabaricus) was earlier known as the Shama Thrush. The bird is a melodious singer and has a rich, clear voice. It is also known to mimic other birds often. While photographing this bird, I recall how it kept singing. When other birds joined in, the Shama began to mimic songs and calls, including that of the Common Hawk Cuckoo, or the Brain-Fever bird! They are mainly insectivorous birds. During the breeding season, the female builds the nest in the hollow of a tree, while the male stands guard.

Green Bee-eater (Merops orientalis) is a common bird and can be found in various habitats like grasslands, scrub jungles and even away from water. They have vibrant colors and when perched together, they make a colorful sight. As the name suggests, Bee-eaters mainly feed on bees, wasps, ants and dragonflies. A Bee-eater repeatedly thrashes the prey on a branch to remove the sting from its prey before feeding on it.

For more pictures visit here

Spituk Monastery, like all monasteries in Ladakh, is located on a hill overlooking the village. River Indus flows behind the monastery, beyond which are the tall mountains capped with ice.

On the other side of Spituk is a very different landscape where the wide valley of Indus is used in constructing the Leh Airport and the army installations. At less than 10km from Leh, Spituk it is almost ready to be consumed by the expanding town.

The colourfully painted doors of dukhang (prayer hall) in Spituk Monastery

A mural of Virupaksha (also called Chanme-Zang), the lord of the west direction. The front wall of the prayer hall in every monastery is usually painted with images of guardians dieties of four directions.

Colourful decorations in the prayer hall of Spituk Monastery.

A monk wearing the traditional yellow hat of the gelug pa lineage at Spituk Monastery.

A statue of Tara (also called Dolma), a female Bodhisattva. Spituk Monastery has a room dedicated to images of Tara, called Dolma Lhakhang or the Temple of Tara

This was an idea which was not encouraged by many!

Vacation in South in summer? Bangalore to Ooty to Pondicherry?? By Road??? In MAY????

Those who love us, generously termed it an adventurous plan….while other, thought of it as an asinine one, but out of politeness and finding me stubborn, actually did not use the word.

To be honest, I had my doubts too. Travelling in May anywhere in India generally is quite an arduous task. Travelling in south India, largely Tamilnadu, in what is called the month of Agninakshatram, can be worse. That’s why I was quite content with going to Bangalore & Ooty. But, soon at the request (~ nay, command) of the Missus, it first became Ooty – Pondicherry & then Ooty – Yercaud – Pondicherry.

And that’s how it all began, when an early morning in May, we embarked from Bangalore on a road journey of about 1500 kms, which in next few days was to take us right upto Chennai, through a route on which we were to cross over dense reserved forests, pass through the ever-twisting roads of Nilgiri mountains – well matched by the tongue-twisting names of most of the places on the entire route, steep climbs of Sheveroy Hills and plains of Tamilnadu graced with the presence of Indian rollers before seeing the sun rising from beyond the Bay of Bengal at the eastern coast of India. But all that was yet to be experienced.

A journey through road always has an advantage – it allows the detours & stoppages as one would desire. Our journey too, while keeping to the originally planned destinations, had its own unplanned & sudden stoppages & detours, the first one being to admire the wooden toys that are churned out in numbers at Chennapatna – a town on Bangalore – Mysore highway, also called the toy-town of Karnataka. Originated as an industry in the times of Tipu Sultan, the wooden toys of this town are made from variety of woods. What makes these toys different is the superb colours, provided through vegetable dyes, and fine glossy finish brought to it with lacquer.

Another detour meanwhile was on our way. As we reached closer to Srirangapatnam, we noticed a small road turning towards Somnathpur, that houses a 13th century Hoysala temple dedicated to Kesava or Krishna. Having visited it a few years earlier, we had fallen in love with the Krishna idol inside the temple and this was just the perfect opportunity, which we would not have missed. The road to the temple, bumpy in patches, passes through the paddy fields & sugarcane fields, with more than occasional Gulmohurs in full bloom providing the shade as well as adding that perfect red hue.

The temple itself, despite being almost 750 years old, is still in quite a good condition. Another thing which immediately differentiates it – and may be most of the other heritage temple structures like Mahabalipuram – from more popular temples, is sprawling open areas and absence of religious fervour amongst the visitors. As a result, one can actually be in commune with the god unlike the more popular temples, one of which we visited later at Thiruvannamalai characterized by an ever present ongoing tussle between the devotees – each one of them wanting to spend more time with the deity and pujaris with their attitude bordering on arrogance ensuring the denial of this desire.

Leaving Somnathpur behind, we were on our way to Ooty. The approach to Ooty, as one enters the forests of Bandipur followed by Mudu-malai, and start climbing the Nilgiris, fills up one with lots of expectations and all senses are at alert The freshness in the air, a drop in the temperature, dense green colour in variety of shades all around, Gulmohur trees in full bloom slowly giving way to the tall Eucalyptus trees as road climbs up, clouds, sun and the trees creating their own shadow-play, occasional sightings of mammals like elephants, gaurs and monkeys, all looked like good omen for our stay at Ooty – till we reached Ooty. One look at the landscape of concrete jungle and all pervading noise and we wanted to escape from the reign of this queen of hill stations.

We still managed to stay in Ooty for next 4 days was largely due to the excellent location of Derby Green Resort – which despite being in the heart of the city, due to its elevated location overlooking the sprawling racecourse, allows one to still find some solitude and breathe freely in this otherwise crowded city.

Added to that were some sudden surprises as well as delightful moments –finding a not so visited trail around the lake towards the south-end, experiencing a variety of flowers in all kind of colours at surprisingly crowd-less Arboretum, checking out the tea factory on the way to Dodda Betta Peak, being explained the difference between Dosai & Roast at one of the restaurants, strolling amidst Botanical Garden peeping at unheard of and unseen flowers, watching a large flock of Oriental White-eyes near Lamb’s Rock at Coonoor, taking a drive into Wellington, experiencing, though apprehensively, our first ever moment of a train maneuvering itself in reverse gear as our heritage toy train reached Coonoor station.

The moments were many which kept us hooked on till, we were again on the road, this time travelling towards Yercaud via Mettupalayam & Salem.
Yercaud – meaning lake (yeri) and forest (kaadu), at Shevaroy hills near Salem is at a height of about 4500 ft. The road from Salem rises suddenly in last few kilometers to reach this height and hence has a number of hair-pin bends that makes the climb interesting as well as challenging. Yercaud itself – more of a sleepy town, as compared to the hustle-bustle at Ooty, was a welcome change.

For a Mumbaikar, Yercaud is Panchghani, Mahabaleshwar & Matheran, all rolled into one – steep climbs, a lake centric town and a table-top that gets busy over the weekend. However, what make it different are the dense forests and the coffee and spice plantations all around that can be explored through treks for birding.

Even our stay in an old estate and situate amidst spice & coffee plantation, was truly soul-refreshing. Dense green all around, small bungalows like of structure for boarding, and lots of avifauna including robins, barbets, bulbuls, flycatchers, minivets, swallows and woodpeckers to keep you company. The only thing that could have made us move from there was our already planned itinerary and we again hit the road on our way to Pondicherry.
This time, the road journey, was more interesting, as rather than catching up the national highway through Salem, we climbed down through the forests towards Uthangarai, where we had one of the best dosa/roast breakfasts, and then moved towards Pondi through a country-side that was full of Indian rollers & kingfisher. Finding rollers perched on wires and trees almost every few hundred metres was too much of a temptation and ultimately we got down to chasing one of them with our camera, till we captured one of the few good shots of the bird. We were not lucky enough though in Thiruvanamalai, a temple town with towering Gopurams, where our surreptitious attempts to take pictures of deities failed miserably.

Another interesting sight on the way to Pondi, which we dared not visit due to scorching heat of the mid noon, was the forts of Gingee –one of the most impregnable citadels of south India. The forts has had an interesting history of rulers ranging from Cholas to Bijapur Sultan to Marathas under Shivaji followed by Moghuls, French, Hyder Ali & finally British. Since the forts would have required a good climb, leaving it for a winter trip, we finally reached Pondi – our last boarding halt of the trip. Our wishlist included a visit to the Aurobindo Ashram, Auroville, experiencing the French flavour of the town & capturing the sunrise from the eastern coast of the country. However, to some extent it remained unfulfilled.

A very small area around the Aurobindo Ashram truly resembles a small French town.
But that’s all that was French about this town. India has reached almost to the Ashram gates leaving nothing that distinguishes the remaining part of the town from any other noisy and crowded towns of the country. A real let down from our expectations.

However, what still makes us look forward to re-visit Pondi was our experience at the Ashram and Auroville – serene, peaceful and in case of Auroville, also superb display of the entire idea of unity and peace through modern architecture. The volunteers – coming to the Ashram from various parts of the world and serving with their calm yet firm demeanor contrasts so well with the rudeness which most of the pujaris & volunteers exhibit in their interaction with the devotees in most of the temples in the country.

The sunrise that we saw from the beach at the Zest resort of Club Mahindra, both the mornings were different and beautiful. The early morning mist over the Bay of Bengal, roaring waves of the high tide, the clouds playing a cameo, the fishing boats out in the sea like early birds, all provided a lovely character to the mornings. The resort itself was a good experience – well laid out, spacious with zen style of minimally furnished rooms.

And then came the finishing touches to the entire trip.

First, a last moment change of plan due to our yayawari attitude made us decide to take the Eastern Coast Road, one of the best highways that I have travelled on, so that we could visit Mahabalipuram shore temples – a heritage site with mind-blowing carvings of various deities that have survived the centuries of history and ravaging of weather, including even a tsunami.

And finally, as our flight took to the sky towards Mumbai and broke through the dense cloud cover with sun about to say goodbye to the evening, the colours that lit across were similar to our experience in this trip –dark and bland on the surface till we broke through the routine and found ourselves enjoying the unexplored colours of the country. And yes, travelling in the hot summer in south India actually turned out to be quite a good idea. As a Greek poet had written –
the road was long but full of adventure, the summer mornings were many that allowed us so much pleasure & joy to enter the ports seen for the first time.

Melkote was a trip decided very quickly over an evening chat. 4 bikes and 8 people; we met near Bangalore University at 5:45 AM on 19th of January 2008, a Saturday. I enjoyed the back seat watching the sunrise, as we rode to Mandya. We stopped for breakfast at Mandya. A rightward Deviation to Melkote is about 2KM after Mandya. On our way we took several stops to interact with farmers who shared their stories with interest.

At Melkote, we first went to Cheluvanarayana swamy temple. In front of the temple was an Iyengar, who was marketing his food stall and asked us to have lunch. Melkote is known for the Iyengar Pulivogre. He also told us about the places we could visit. Cheluva narayana swamy idol is very beautiful indeed. One would not want to take the eyes off such a pleasant looking idol of lord Vishnu. Badrinarayana temple is another small temple opposite the main temple.
Yoganarasimha temple is on top of a hill. About 1000 steps would lead you up there. Both these temples are 900 years old and are extremely beautiful with lot of stone carvings depicting stories of Vishnu.

The view of the entire village from top is truly mesmerizing. The lake Kalyani at the base of the hill is a good relaxing place.

We rode back and had tasty Pulivogre, Sweet Pongal and Curd rice at the iyengar’s place. The food is cooked at home and sold here. He also gave us some back ground of the temples. It seems, a jain king who ruled here had two daughters, one of whom was terribly ill. Ramanujachar was requested to arrive and cure her. He took her to Tannur lake and there cured her out of the disease. In turn the king offered him gold, but ramanjachar asked him to follow his vaishnava principles and convert to a Vaishnava king. The king was renamed to Vishnuvardhana. Ramanujachar stayed there for several years and preached his new followers.
Another famous story about the temple is of the utsav idol which was stolen and then found in Delhi, in sultan’s house being worshipped by his daughter. Lord Vishnu himself came in dreams of Ramanujachar and informed the idols location.
This is a major difference I have seen in traveling in India or anywhere else; every place has stories to say, villagers have interesting information about their ancestors and I think this is what makes it so good to be in these places and to be part of history.
We next rode to Danush koti. A cutout in a rock, in which the natural spring keeps water filled, is believed to have been created by Lord Rama’s arrow. While we were there millions of honey bee from nowhere flew in to cover the entire place with black spots. We had to hide behind a rock to save ourselves.
The next stop was Akka-Thangi Kere. Water in one of these is salty and other sweet. Next stop was Raya Dwara – A grand entrance that never got completed. Myth is that the King wanted a grand entrance built within a night. But as the sun’s first ray fell on the incomplete masterpiece, the time was up and till date it remains so.

I recalled the song from film Guru – Barso Re, shot here. The Sanskrit academy was closed. The library has a wide collection of oldest scriptures.
We took a narrow back route from Melkote to Tannur Lake. It’s a neat place to hang around. We took a boat ride.We watched the sunset and returned through Pandavpur-Mandya-Bangalore route.

We stopped at Mandya again for food. Reached Bangalore University at 9:30 PM. Dispersed from there to our homes.
It appeared to me like I had lived 2 days in one. What a long day it was; lovely places; interesting history; enthusiastic villagers. Few back routes that we took have not seen buses yet. Few paths are only meant for bikes and they pass through the real village life.

People make places is a maxim that I often believe in . Very often a journey is made endearing or inspiring because of some people you meet on the way. Sometimes its just a few minutes of interactions , but very often they make such a lasting impression

The boy lamas at Bylakuppe, a Tibetan settlement at Coorg told me their stories about how they had braved the cold, harsh landscapes and the Chinese to make their way down to India. They were probably of the age when most kids down here play cricket on streets with gay abandon. Some of them had even lost their parents in the journey or had left them behind in Tibet .

I met forest guards in the jungles of Karnataka who narrated stories of how they protected themselves from man and beast. In the fishing camps of the river Cauvery, dynamite is often used to kill the Mahsheer fish by poachers and some of the naturalists I had met in the local resorts were former fishermen who are now brand ambassadors of conservation. I met Naik who had even gone to court to file a case against his own brother who was a fisherman once upon a time. Today, both the brothers conserve the Mahsheer, the game fish sought after by anglers all over the world.

Such tales of inspiration and courage are at every nook and corner of every journey . Passion is another quality that I see in ordinary people which make them lead extra ordinary lives. These are men and women who leave the comfort of their homes to follow their hearts. I met a local , Swamy in Kamalapura near Hampi who runs a stationery shop. His passion for birds and bears and photography has transformed him into a conservator and he manages the forest guest house.

I met a Jain Kuruba or a tribal who collects honey in the forests of Karnataka At a time when most of his colleagues were braving the bees and the bears to collect honey, he went on to study English in a local school and even educated his wife and kids. Today he works in a luxury resort entertaining guests .

However this story belongs to Dorjee who drove us around Ladakh last year. Ladakh is more about people than landscapes and if you have not interacted with the local people, then your trip has not been worthwhile. Dorjee belonged to Zanskar, where his wife and children stayed. He spent six months a year in Leh, making money for the entire year when he returned to Zanskar for the off season and bitter winter. He was full of energy and he had a never say die attitude. Tough and strong, Dorjee would brave anything . He introduced us to ladakhi culture, told us about his family and sang Ladakhi songs to us. However he was not just a travel companion

It happenned on the fag end of our Ladakh trip when we were returning to Leh via Tso kar . It was to be our last day in Leh.We had just entered the Taglang la pass at 17,500 feet when it just started to snow. It was early September and I was experiencing snow in ladakh for the first time. While I started taking photographs , Dorjee frowned. Coming from a man who would throw caution to the winds, the frown meant trouble. He urged us to get into the jeep and we barely crossed the pass when the snow storm started. We continued for a few minutes when Dorjee spied a truck on the opposite end struggling its way. Dorjee stopped saying it would be a bad idea to continue and just then we realized the truck had stopped. A bus with the local police force arrived behind us wondering why we had stopped. They analysed the situation and said there was nothing to be done until the truck moved or the storm quelled. The snow filled up the roads steadily as more vehicles piled up on either side. It slowly became an hour and Dorjee told us how dangerous it had been in earlier situations. We asked him for options. He shrugged saying either the truck had to be thrown into the valley or we have to wait and it could be days if the storm didnt subside . Suddenly he lost patience.

He stepped out into the storm amidst or protests and didnt return for another 50 minutes. Then as I saw through my binoculars, Dorjee was single handedly removing the snow from the road with his own hands and some crude instruments he picked up later. He barely wore anything to protect him from the cold except a cap and a thin jacket. Soon some locals joined in and they shoved the snow away so that the road was cleared, even though the storm continued though the intensity had come down.

Dorjee later told me that the truck driver was afraid his vehicle would skid, but he would do nothing about the snow. However Dorjee didnt just save the day – he just displayed what a Ladakhi spirit is..” madam, all of us locals..we fought in the kargil war..do you know that ..? was his parting shot as we drive down hill.

The Hoysala trail continues from Part 1 where we visited Doddagaddavalli and Belur. We now move on to the next temples in Halebeedu and Belavadi .

Taking a walk along the outer walls of the Hoysaleshwara Temple in Halebeedu, I was treated to a deluge of beauty in stone. Present along the outer wall were the finest engravings of images of gods and of events from Indian Mythology, all in the confines of a 4 feet high horizontal band.

One such figure is of Lord Krishna lifting Govardhanagiri to protect Gokula from torrential rains. I saw the ecosystem of the hill comes alive even in that little space. The architect had carved out in it a forest full of trees, a monkey climbing a tree, a hunter aiming at a pig and a lion looking out from its cave. Rendered under the shelter of the hill were the subjects of Krishna – cows, his cowherd friends and other villagers. All these may not be apparent to a quick passer by, but as the guides explained these nuances to tourists, I saw people pausing to take a closer look and gasping with awe. Another similarly detailed section of the wall showed Ravana attempting to lift Kailasa Parvatha, the expression of his face clearly showing his suffering under the weight of the mountain.

The one figure on the wall that awed me the most was of Lord Shiva as Gajacharmambaradhari – an appearance where the lord dances inside the body of a demon in the form of an elephant. I found it difficult just to imagine the concept, but the sculptor depicted it effortlessly in an elegant manner. There is so much attention to detail in this work of art; I could even see Shiva’s finger nails shown piercing through the skin of the pachyderm.

Walking me along these marvels of art, my guide Uma occasionally slipped in carefully practiced humorous quotes. Pointing at an image of a monkey pulling drapes of a lady, she winked and declared it as ‘monkey business’ and watched with delight as a short group of tourists burst out laughing at the remark. In another instance, she asked me what is God, and waited for me to come up with an answer. Not expecting a question from someone who should be giving me answers, I paused, not knowing what to say. She then showed me figures of the trinity on the wall – Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva, and explained me – “G-O-D god; it means Generator, Operator and Destroyer!”

Nowhere before had I seen so many images of stone carved to such great detail. How did the Hoysala architects manage to bring in elaborateness in stone that was achieved by none else, not even by their contemporary neighbours? It is Uma who unfolded the mystery to me. “The temples here are built using soap stone,” she told me, “this type of stone is soft like butter when it is taken out from the earth. It hardens over continuous exposure to the atmosphere.” With its butter-like characteristic, the stones could be carved to greater details, a task impossible with any harder form of stone.

It would not be easy to believe that a stone could be so soft. But I was to see a demonstration very soon. Outside one of the temples, I was surrounded by hawkers selling postcards, small metal statues and artifacts made of stone. I managed to escape from them without buying anything, but a friend bought a small grinding stone that happened to be made of soap stone. Its surface was so soft, we could easily make scratches and marks on it using fingernails!

Halebeedu is not just about its famed Hoysaleshwara Temple. Few people who come here realize that the place is littered with the remains of the ancient kingdom. It was the capital of the Hoysalas for most duration of their rule, complete with bustling markets, temples and housing colonies. We can still see remains of the old habitat – a large area strewn with carved rocks and remains of the pedestals of a few temples. Also within the fortification of the town are three Jain Bastis and Kedareshwara Temple – a smaller replica of Hoysaleshwara Temple built by Vishnuvardhana’s grandson.

My prized discovery of Halebeedu turned out to be none of these grand structures, but a small kalayani in the village of Hulikere. It is an ornate tank hidden inside a coconut grove. The Kalyani’s waters are surrounded by small shrines of stone in all the eight directions, giving a reverent feel to the tank. Its calm waters reflected the tall coconut trees and the puffy clouds in the sky. The steps leading into the water served as perfect place to rest and watch the fish gently moving in the still water. I sat there for a long time all by myself, with no one else but fish for company. The silence here was so filling for the heart, I would never have bothered to leave but for my greed to explore more.

About 12km from Halebeedu is another temple at the small village of Belavadi, again hidden from the weekend crowds and day-trippers. On my way here during another visit in the middle of the monsoons, I was welcome with carpets of yellow sunflowers that were splashed amidst lush greenery, often larger than several football fields joined together. Occasional marigold fields added further to the riot of colours. Silhouetted far away to the west were the hills of Western Ghats that rose from the plains and merged with monsoon clouds. A gentle drizzle constantly reminded me of the wet season.

When it comes to intricate carvings, Veeranarayana Temple at Belavadi does not compete with Belur and Halebeedu. The temple’s prized possession is its 108 circular pillars that are polished so well that I could see my own reflection on their surface. An array of these pillars leading to the sanctum makes the temple look as grand as a king’s court.

When I needed a break from hopping from temple to temple, I found refuge in a coffee estate in the small village of Bikkodu near Belur. It was located at the edge of the plains where barren landscape made way to an evergreen canopy. The estate, with many tropical trees preserved intact to provide shade for coffee plants, was home to birds with dazzling colours and beauty. In my two hours of wandering in this green expanse, I saw crimson coloured scarlet minivets, green pigeons, emerald doves, rose ringed parakeets, coucals and a few dozen other colourful birds that whizzed past me as though they were getting late for an appointment. If the walk under the evergreen forest refreshed me, coffee made from freshly ground powder offered by Vipin, the estate manager, kept me going further.

My last stop in the journey into Hoysala heartland also happened to be in a coffee estate. Searching for the origin of these kings who were connoisseurs of art in stone, I arrived at the small village of Angadi in the heart of Sahyadris. It was here in a small temple that a brave young man killed a tiger with bare hands and subsequently scripted the creation of a kingdom. His descendants moved to Halebeedu and established a capital, from where they ruled a large part of Deccan for more than three hundred years.

Still standing proudly inside a coffee plantation in Angadi are three small beautiful temples that are said to date back to tenth century. The temples do not compare against the grandiose structures built in the later days, but it is here that the story began in a small way. As I departed from Angadi on my way back Bangalore, I wondered for once how every creation of greatness has a very humble beginning.

Travelwise is conducting a Hoysala trail this June 19,20. For details , check here

Canal near St. Barnaba in Venice, Italy.

Medium: Watercolour

This is my watercolour rendition of a photograph I came across in the travel section of the LA Times e-paper while doing some research on Italy as a possible vacation destination this year. The photograph instantly captured my imagination…

Here’s why:
This is the first time that I actually thought about Venetians and the fact that this Canal city is what they call Home.

For a city that is so uniquely beautiful, steeped in culture and fascinating history, it sometimes takes on a one dimensional aspect to a foreigner. It begins to look like one of those places that exist just so that we can visit during vacation time.
This picture reminded me that Venice exists outside of tourist season; that there are people going about their lives within these colourful, quaint buildings.

The antennae on the buildings tell me that someone in there is watching cartoons, or a soap opera or a sitcom. And laughing or crying. Or cutting vegetables and yelling at someone to keep the volume down…

The two little boats anchored alongside one of the buildings are sitting there as matter-of-factly as a car would in our parking lots.
The beautiful plants over the balcony railing are being trimmed and groomed and watered by someone who cares to keep them looking beautiful.

The bright light and lack of traffic makes it seem like a lazy Sunday afternoon; or a day that everyone’s home watching Venice’s equivalent of an India- Pakistan one day match.

This is why I love this picture. It may have no people in it. But it is teeming with life.

Mashobra is a town along the historic Hindustan–Tibet Road built in 1850 by Lord Dalhousie.

Talli
Talli, a meadow near the Mahakali temple, hosts the annual Jotton ka Mela in October. This mela is very popular for its Bull Fights.

Mahakali Temple

Craignano
Craignano is a pre independence era retreat, named after the Italian countess of Craignano (in the Province of Turin)

Craignano Camp, located about 100m from the Craignano House, offers a slew of activities including rappelling, rock climbing, mountain biking, and rafting.

Craignano Camp

Craignano House

Craignano has the world’s highest water lift (7657ft) built by the British that still serves Shimla.

Apple Orchards

Regional Horticultural Research Institute


There are two shacks, serving simple Himachali food, opposite the Maha Kali Temple.

Shack where we had some pakodas and chatted with the locals – super friendly junta.
Mashobra Town and Beyond

After lunch, we proceeded towards the town. Along the way we saw some luxurious villas … Money, Money, Money !!!

Priyanka Gandhi’s vacation home
The locals are not particularly happy with the Gandhis moving into their little town because of the increased security and property resale restrictions.

Driving to the remote part of Arunachal Pradesh in the northeast corner of India is a surreal experience. Colors change with every curve in the mountains along with the scenery.

Pic : Lakshmi Sharath

Bright yellow mustard fields merge with some brilliant orchids that suddenly morph into dense forests with rivers gliding past them to snow clad mountains and conifers kissed by snow flakes to frozen lakes to a valley of clouds that wrapped the mountains…

CHENNAI TO DIRANG

Day 1 – Chennai: 4 am – What a way to start a holiday. Airlines have a way of making you work hard even when you are holidaying – so here we are (my husband and I) packed and ready, traveling from southern India to the northeast corner. It is the New Year’s Eve and the excitement is just about enough to keep us warm.

We flew from Chennai, transited at Kolkata, crossed the Bangalesh border to reach Gauwhati. Our holiday had begun. We journeyed on. Another long drive to Tezpur, our transit point before reaching our destination – Tawang at a distance of 400 kms uphill nestled at 10,000 feet high. So, four cities, three airports and one long drive – day one was almost over.

Pic : Lakshmi Sharath

There was a bit of unrest and hence there was heavy security. We crossed the Brahmaputra and were instructed that we could not take a photograph of this majestic river or the bridge. It was the twilight hour as we reached Tezpur, a town filled with legends and myths and even associated with the Mahabharatha.

Everything seemed shut. There was a grim silence everywhere. We were told that there was a bandh. A dull beginning to a holiday.

ROMANCING THE BRAHMAPUTRA
Day 2 – A ray of light streaked into our room and cheered us up. The new year had dawned and the morning seemed promising. We were to cross into Arunachal Pradesh from Assam. Dirang, enroute to Tawang was our destination.

Pic : Lakshmi Sharath

We started our journey with a glimpse of the mighty Brahmaputra. A hillock, Agnigarh, overlooking the river is a tribute to the romance between Princess Usha and Anirudha, who is grandson of Lord Krishna.

My driver told me this story which dates back to the ancient epic Mahabharat, when the king Banasura had imprisoned princess Usha in this hillock and surrounded it by a rampart of fire. Hence the name, Agnigarh (house of fire).

A few scattered ruins and an ancient serene temple, Mahabhairab, were our sightseeing experiences. We continued and suddenly the scenery changed dramatically.

Pic : Lakshmi Sharath

Golden mustard fields, lush dense forests, gushing streams, waterfalls and colorful orchids filled our landscape as we crossed Bhalukpung, where there was rigorous security.
We were asked for our permit and questions were hurled at us regarding our journey. We were finally allowed to proceed and we stopped at Tipi, at the orchidarium, claimed to be Asia’s third largest.

A small roadside motel was our next halt where we had hot noodles and chai (tea). For vegetarians like us, even that was a luxury.

The journey resumed and the mounatins and rivers kept us company. After eight hours of driving, we finally reached Dirang, a hill station tucked in a valley of orchards. We stayed in a lovely resort, overlooking the River Kemeng with the entire town on its banks.

Pic : Lakshmi Sharath

The cold had just set in. We rubbed our palms in glee. We had no idea that this was just the beginning… but I had begun to enjoy my holiday.

A VALLEY OF CLOUDS
If there is heaven on earth, this is it. A valley of clouds that hid everything from mountain peaks to grasslands, flowers and birds and touched our cheeks gently as we got down to capture it on our lens.

Day 3 – We were driving from Dirang, a small hill station in Arunachal Pradesh towards Tawang set high in the Eastern Himalayas The mountains curved as River Kameng flowed along with us.

Pic : Lakshmi Sharath

It had just snowed. All of a sudden, it was white all around. Snow, ice and clouds all around. Snow-clad mountains wrapped in a valley of clouds was all we could see till we came to a glacier which opened to a gate guarded by dragons with bright colored flags fluttering all around.

We were at Sella Pass, where history and romance meet at 13,700 feet. At the height of Indo-China war in 1960s, Sella was a local maiden who had fallen in love with Jaswant Singh, an Indian soldier. She died a martyr and the pass was named after her and here was marked as a boundary between India and China. Jaswant Garh, a memorial for the soldier is also close by.

We had noone for company except for a couple of dogs and a small tea shop that served us some hot tea and noodles. The cold breeze tickled the bones as we stopped and stared hard at the placid clouds, tugging at the mountains.

A bright shaft of sunshine pierced through our skin as we let the heat in and rubbed our frozen fingers in glee. It was just us, the dogs and nature at its silent best.

BEYOND TAWANG

Day 4 – It is an understatement to say that Tawang was freezing cold. This is a town which sees the first rays of sun in India, but ironically the sun never shines. The temperature was many numbers below zero.

We had just checked in Tawang Inn the previous evening after another seven-hour drive and had tried sleeping in the bitter cold. Morning came but the cold spell continued. We stuffed ourselves with as many layers of clothing as possible and decided to move out of our room in Tawang Inn.

Pic : Lakshmi Sharath

Tawang, which means ‘chosen by horse’ is full of magical monasteries and mystical gompas on one end and a war memorial on the other. A heady mix of religion, history and nature, this town was ravaged during the Indo-China War in 1962.

The home of the Mompas, the monastery was founded in 17th century.Tawang is known for the lakes and waterfalls and we set out looking for them.

A thick layer of mist hung over the roads as we drove up hill. This is the road that takes us to Tibet and China, but we did not have the requisite permits to get there.

A sea of clouds envelopes everything, as mountain peaks jut out.

A LITTLE CAJOLING

Our driver told us that there were more than 100 lakes up hill and if the army gave us permission, we would get there. A little cajoling with the army got us trudging uphill in our jeep.

Pic : Lakshmi Sharath

The mist descended even thicker and many times we stopped dead in our tracks wondering if there was a curve ahead or if we were at a cliff. Visibility was at zero.

We kept climbing higer and higher. And suddenly the veil was lifted and we saw the blue sky. A sea of clouds encircled us, wrapping everything below. The sun shone brightly out of a clear and spotless sky.

Small peaks jutted out of the clouds which had spread themselves. We stared right into the clouds and could not see anything below. It was just that -– a 180-degree view of the clouds and the sky and the mountains on the other side.

We kept climbing uphill till we came to the first lake – the Patang Teng Tso or the PT Tso lake. It was just 20 kilometers from Tawang and it seemed like a long journey. There was not a soul around, not even the occassional yak or mountain goat. Even the army was not there.

Snow was snow scattered all over, carpeting a mountain here and there, while the lake was frozen. There were several lakes, a mix of water and ice; some with colored flags fluttering high, some dotted with a small temple.

The colors were stark, blue and white, black and brown. I had not seen anything so majestic, peaceful and beautiful. I wanted to capture every image with my lens, but a lot is still in my mind’s eye.

Pic : Lakshmi Sharath

We saw several bunkers used by the Indian army way back in 1962. The war memorial was a tribute to the martyrs. We crossed several tombstones on the way. It is a scary thought that this peaceful place was once a battle field. And to give assurance was a temple tucked away in the ice.

GETTING THERE

Tawang is in Arunachal Pradesh and you need a permit to visit it even if you are an Indian citizen. You can get one at Gauwhati which was my first port of call.

It is a long journey by road via Tezpur and a stopover at Bomdila or Dirang is a must. Ideally you should break the jouney into two days. And believe me, the drive is worth it! Though there are flights to Tezpur, it is advisable to avoid the same.

ACCOMODATION

Extremely basic. There is no power most of the time. You could also stay in Bomdila, but I prefer Dirang, en route to Tawang. You need a permit to get here. For details, check out ArunachalPradeshTourism.com

This article was published earlier in a travel website gonomad

Chail, in Himachal Pradesh once served as the summer capital of the state of Patiala. It is situated at an altitude of 2250m above sea level and is higher than Shimla.

Chail is surrounded by forests of chir pine and deodars. The hills overlook the Sutlej valley. Shimla and Kasauli can be seen from here at night.

The Chail Palace, constructed by Maharaja Bhupinder Singh in 1891, is beautiful and elegant. The furnishing and decor have been maintained well through the years and it now serves as the Palace Hotel.

The Palace has lush green spacious lawns. It is easily one of the best places to stay if you are looking to spend a night in Chail.

There is a cricket ground and a polo ground in Chail. At 2444m, it has the highest cricket pitch in the world.

Long winding roads, untouched landscapes, chirping birds and a chilly breeze constantly accompany you as you walk around the town. Needless to say that the town is best explored on foot.

A book, a hammock, a drink in your hand and a camera by your side. This is all you will need to savour the feel of this picturesque town completely.

The next time you are looking for a quiet holiday up in the hills, head to Chail.