It was not because I am scared of going down hill or crossing the snow fields, but because we had to leave the beautiful place; the place with such awe-inspiring scenery; the place which took my breath away; the place where it had given me so much peace and joy, and the time and opportunity to mull over many things.
Despite the lack of facilities and conveniences – hard ground and sleeping bag instead of comfortable bed, ‘dry clean’ instead of hot shower, trunk and rubber mats on ground instead of table and chairs, a hole in the ground instead of flush toilet – I had learnt to adapt and live with the basic of the basic.
Sad though I might be, I reminded myself that ‘the mountains will always be there; people move about, mountains don’t, I can always come back’. With that I bid farewell to camp 2. Before we left, I turned around for another look of the campsite and its surrounding. Smile, returned to my face.
We were on the same route as we were two days earlier, which means having to cross all those familiar snow fields again. At two of these snow fields, Tek stopped to hack and create a path for us and the horses.
It was a hot and sunny day. Descending was not as tiring as ascending but it could be taxing on the knees at times. So, we took things easy and had a slow walk, stopping occasionally to take some photos of views which we thought we might have missed two days earlier.
We reached the campsite (camp 1) by noon after three hours of slow, breeze walk.
While waiting for our tent to be ready, we took a quick bite of our packed lunch under a shady spot.
When the tent was ready, we moved in and did the needful – unpack, clean up, etc. Inside the tent, it was extremely hot and stifling. The sun fiercely penetrated through the thin layer of the tent roof. Outside, the sun was scorching, we chose to stay inside.
A short while later, Sangy came to our tent with tea and coffee and some biscuits. While we were having the afternoon chat over a cup of coffee, we heard a commotion outside. I took a look and found that there were new arrivals. Suddenly the campsite came to live.
Later we learnt that there were two groups of trekkers – the first was a group of five men with a lady guide from southern India while the second was a group of more than 20 high school students from England. With their ‘entourage’ of supporting crew members and horses, it was quite a sight. It broke the silence of the campsite.
In the evening after dinner and as usual, we had the campfire. But this time, we were not alone, the group from southern India came to join us. They started singing and some dancing. On the other side of the campsite, the students from England were having their own campfire and gala time.
Laughter, singing and smoke filled the air; it gave a different kind of atmosphere from what we had earlier.
I thought, ‘Wao, what a way to celebrate and end the last night of my first camping experience!’
The next morning after breakfast and having taken some shots of the campsite filled with trekkers, tents and horses, we started to descend at about 8.30.
After a relatively flat trail, we came to the steep descent. Again, we took it easy, walking slowly and enjoying the view one last time.
About 10.30, we arrived at the house. We waited for the crew to arrive. In the mean time, we chatted with some of the people who were at the house, relating to them our experience. Soon, the crew arrived. We collected our luggage and said goodbye to them.
As they left, we were told that Jhaba Ram, the horseman, just gotten married five days before. A quick mental calculation told me that he actually got married the day before the start of the trek. No wonder he seemed in a hurry to go back. Understandable. Unfortunately, it was too late to congratulate him as he had disappeared round the corner, with the horses in tow. Silently I wished him all the best.
We went back to the hotel, had our lunch, washed our clothes and had a good scrub. After days without shower, that was most welcoming and refreshing. Once all that was done, it was time to explore Manali town.
Here’s how Lonely Planet described Manali:
‘When first discovered by travellers during the 1960s, Manali was a peaceful mountain Shangri-la, with old stones houses and tranquil alpine scenery. The beautiful setting remains, but today Manali has expanded to become a major tourist resort ...’
Indeed it is. Where we stayed, everywhere we turned was hotels, nothing but hotels. A short distance from the hotel ‘enclave’ is the town proper where shops are aplenty. At night, peddlers dominate the Mall selling anything and everything one can think of. Prices can drop just like the trail. I remembered this man selling wooden chess set whom we met before we left for the trek. At one end of the Mall, he was offering us Rs 600, by the time we reached the other end, the price came down to Rs 100!We would be visiting these familiar faces one more time before we continue with our journey the following day.
As we were approaching the town, the cacophony of car horns, traffic noise, people talking, and people shouting and laughing pierced through my ears, and a wave of nausea swept over me. For a moment, I felt that I do not belong to ‘this place’. It was not because I am Chinese and not Indian, but because of the noise, the crowd, the complexity of ‘civilisation’, the trouble and problem of modern day living.
I wanted to go back to the mountain, where I could take refuge, seek solace and find peace; I wanted to go back to the mountain where I could be in solitude looking at the horses graze, listening to the birds sing, watching the crystal clear stream water flow, enjoying the melodic sound of the leaves rustle in the gentle wind; I wanted to...
Suddenly, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. I turned around and saw a young woman with a young child in her arm – both with scruffy look and in tattered clothes; the woman with one hand stretched out, the palm cupped.
Reality hit me. Stop dreaming. Time to move on.
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