Almost every hill station in India – be it Shimla  or Darjeeling tell the same story. Lush and plentiful in summer with snow kissed conifers carpeted on their slopes in winters, these towns have been plucked   out of nature by the British. The quaint names, a sleepy railway station, an ancient church , a club and the palatial bungalows are all reminiscent of the old world charm.

If you take a leisurely walk down the malls and markets of these towns, they still smack of the colonial legacy. These hill stations were dubbed the summer capitals of the Britishers who lorded over them for several  years. And yet, one little hill station stands apart from the rest, defying the colonial hangover . It owes its existence on the political and tourist maps to an Indian ruler who made it his summer capital. This is the story of Chail , a town barely 45 kms from Shimla in Himachal Pradesh .

Located at a higher altitude than Shimla, the story goes that the Maharaja Bhupinder Singh of Patiala made Chail his summer capital when the British barred him from entering  Shimla. Although the conflict was not on military grounds, the story goes that the Maharaja was romancing a daughter of Lord Kitchener, who was then the Commander in Chief of the British army. The Maharaja decided to give the British a fitting reply and went on to create his own summer capital in Chail.  He first built a palace near Khandaghat  called Chail View Palace and then  built a road to Chail and finally his own summer retreat in this little town surrounded by deodar forests. Ironically Chail itself had been gifted to the Maharaja by the Britishers earlier .

The Maharaja was an avid cricketer and had captained many an Indian team besides playing several first class matches himself .  He left Chail a trophy – a cricket ground which has the highest ever pitch located at 2140 metres and it doubled up as a polo ground as well.

Like many Indian towns , Chail has its own share of myths and legends. We visited a temple dedicated to a saint, Sidh Baba built on a hillock by the king. The locals believe that the king had planned to build his palace here earlier , but the seer had visited him in his dream and asked him to choose another location.

Nevertheless, the Maharaja couldn’t have found a better place to create his summer capital. With the Himalayas in the background and the valley beneath,  the river flowing down and three dense hillocks covered with deodar forests, Chail looked every bit a royal capital. The lights of Shimla and Kasauli came up  as I stood there for awhile watching the sun went down. Chail had indeed come a long way from an idyllic hamlet to a royal seat and now a tourist resort .

This story was published in The Hindu , as part of the author’s column, Inside Story

Club Mahindra has a lovely resort in Mashobra , near Shimla and the author was invited to the property as part of a blogger’s trip

CLAY wishes all its readers, members, travel writers and bloggers a very happy and prosperous new year. Here is wishing all of you exciting travels in 2012.

We begin this new year with a  sunrise in The Himalayas , as seen from our resort in Mashobra, near Shimla .

Before the days of motor ways crisscrossing the mountainous landscapes of Himalaya, people relied on their strong feet and travelled long distances by walking. Pilgrims made journeys lasting many months to visit the holy places where the mighty river Ganga originated. Things are much different today, as people buzz from place to place in buses and jeeps.

In his book ‘Sacred Waters’, Stephen Alters tries to get closer to land and nature, taking the Himalayas by feet, travelling to the four holy origins of the Ganga – the char dham.

Alter leaves behind his watch at home deliberately as he sets on the journey and allows the route to unfold at its own pace. He finds his way with the help of villagers as he moves, trying to avoid noisy motor roads and searching for the old abandoned pilgrim trails. With his progress, he describes people, landscapes and culture that unfolds in front of him, always staying close to nature and observing changes created by the modern world.

His description often brings forth the sanctity of nature as he describes the unpeopled forests of Garhwal region, its flora and fauna, hilly landscapes, rivers and lakes. The naturalist in Alter unfolds as he takes the reader along describing his walks along the forests of Moru Oak trees or sightings of verditer flycatchers and barking deers.

Author’s quest in the book is as much spiritual as it is about the contemporary life in Garhwal. Besides writing about his spiritual experiences and moments of blissful feelings in the journey, Alter ensures that he talks about every aspect of the region in the book. Along with Garhwal’s nature and environment, he digs on the history and mythology of each temple he visits, sees cultural and social changes that are brought about by motor roads and attitude of people to change. His description of destruction of the mountains in Tehri for construction of the mighty Tehri dam is touching and depressing, and his talks with activist Sundarlal Bahuguna in Tehri town, informative.

‘Sacred Waters’ is an excellent introduction to the Garhwal region of Indian Himalayas, and his narration is intense and comes from the heart. The book is a good read for audience interested in any aspect of the region, be it culture, journeys, history or environment.