If you have read my Hampta Pass blog you will know that unlike most people we did not conclude our trek at Chhatru and ride back to Manali but instead, we ventured further into the cold desert named Spiti Valley.
Here is a map to visualize the route.
After standing in line for nearly an hour we managed to call our travel agent and he assured that a car will come the next day as planned and pick us up. Unfortunately, we had to spend the day at Chhatru instead of seeing the fabled Chandrataal (the moon-lake).
After almost a week we were lucky enough to see a brilliant starlit sky together with a dazzling moonlit landscape. The sight was surreal and my photographs, taken with a mere kit lens; let alone my words can do justice to it.
After a good night's rest, we went out for a stroll and realised the situation was far worse than we thought. The queue of stranded cars now extended for more than a kilometer and at least a thousand people are now stranded. The situation was made much worse because of lack of communication. People were panicking and out of nowhere came this rumour that we are going to be stranded for at-least 3 days more. This rumour spread like wildfire and sent people into a frenzy, some started buying large quantities of biscuits and other dry food, some suddenly decided to cross the Hampta Pass on foot, it was utter pandemonium.
In order to try and establish contact with our travel agent again, I and my brother went to the phone-booth and found a much longer queue than the last day. After 1.5 hours I thought I heard someone calling my name in a distorted way "Protu Das !! Protu Das !!". Turning back I saw a small fellow with obvious Mongolian features and asked him who he was. He told me that he was the driver who would take us to Kaza. We came to know that the Rohtang Pass had just been opened and he himself came from Manali. Elated, we headed back to the camp and without much delay packed up our things and started our journey shortly after noon.
Just after a few minutes, we realised what a visual treat we were in for. My team-mates had previously criticised me for planning such a trip where the journey was more time demanding than the stays. Now they realised that the landscapes of Spiti Valley are of unmatched beauty and the contrast to the lush green hills we are so used to see was very stark.
The hills were of no particular colour, every hill had its own hue, its own texture and strong wind eroded away the softer sedimentary rocks for millions of years and created spectacular gravity-defying abstract sculptures.
The path is barely motorable, it is full of small boulders and sometimes we had to roll up the windows to prevent dust from getting in. After one and a half hour, we reached Batal. It is about 31 km from Chhatru and from here the road to Chandrataal splits off from the (so-called) Highway. Batal it is only 15km from the beautiful Chandrataal. We sighed collectively as we went past the road leading to Chandrataal. That road was also closed due to heavy landslides and even if it were open we could not afford a night there. For now, it remains in our bucket-list.
At about 3.30 pm we reached Losar, a small village on the way to Kaza. It is about 65 km from Chhatu and 5 hours of continuous roller coaster of a car ride caused a severe hunger attack. We entered a small roadside restaurant and ate like we survived an apocalypse.
Rejuvenated by toast, omelette, noodles and cups of coffee once again we hit the dusty road. Every turn looked more beautiful than the last and we would often irritate the driver by asking him to stop frequently. Seeing that the daylight is fading fast we refrained from these unscheduled photo ops and at about 7.30 pm we reached the Kaza bus Stand. The office of the agency (Spiti Valley Tour: 9418537689) had already been closed and hence we boarded a nearby homestay owned by a local elderly woman. The strict business-woman refused to budge from her price even when we called her 'Didi' affectionately, tough bird !
After a sumptuous dinner, we surrendered our tired bodies and dreamy minds to the fluffy (but heavy) blankets. the oxygen depleted air did not let us sleep peacefully though.
After a really heavy breakfast, which raised a few eyebrows in a small sweet-shop we reserved a car which took us to the Key Monastery. The Key Village is about 15-16 km from Kaza and the majestic key monastery looks over the village. A single glance at the magnificent structure is enough to instill a sense of mystery and awe into the hearts of the beholders. At the base of the monastery, there is a small cafe cum hotel with well-decorated rooms but we marched on towards the upper reaches of the Gompa.
The office was on the same floor as the main worshiping hall. I hesitatingly approached an elderly Lama and asked him whether we are allowed to stay inside the monastery. With a polite smile, he pointed upwards and said: "talk to the guy upstairs."
As we climbed up the entire valley opened up to us and the 'guy' explained that only a dormitory is available and the toilets were outside the dorm in the corridor. At that point we could not care less, the dorm had a ROOF. The roof probably had one of the best views imaginable and we stood there, spellbound. We could see the Key Village, the green pastures and the Spiti river meandering through the valley like a great serpent. The sky was unbelievably blue and the slight cold breeze made everything PERFECT.
Just look at the pictures, my feeble attempts to describe the scenery by using just words will be blasphemous.
After freshening up, we went for a stroll to soak in the view from every viewpoint. We were happy as larks, we could not believe our luck; we were staying at the place made of fairy tales and that too for only 250/- per person including food and lodging. We had missed our lunch by half an hour because the monks follow a strict routine, which the guests also must abide by.
In the evening we were served milk tea and barley or some other brown millet flour. seeing that we were expecting something more he explained that we should pour the tea into the bowl of flour and mix them and then eat the mixture. With 2 spoonfuls of sugar, it tasted quite good. But frankly, it was not enough to satiate our hunger, so we smuggled in veg pakora into the monastery (not sure if it was against the rules or not, Lord Buddha forgive us). Sitting on chairs and spare mattresses on the roof, chatting over hot cups of tea and pakoras, breathing in the cold mountain air, enjoying the scenic beauty as the sun began its journey behind the rocky peaks; I asked myself: "Can life get any better ?"
The depleted levels of Oxygen in the air took a toll on one of our team-mates. After a simple dinner, we turned in for the night.
The next morning we scrapped our plan to trek 6.6 km uphill to Kibber, arguably the highest altitude village in India. We were served a heavy breakfast of a lentil soup and a type of oily bread. As we entered the sanctum sanctorum of the monastery to pray for our safe return something beautiful caught our eyes. The little monks were sitting in queues waiting for their share of the breakfast and almost everyone was beaming ear to ear. Life and happiness is probably not as complicated as we think. We make it complicated by introducing desire, competition and ego, here amidst the towering mountains, those seems quite irrelevant.
With a strange sense of contentment we boarded the sole bus to Kaza. The next day we would retrace our path through Losar, Kunjum Pass, Chhatru and reach Manali. Only this time we would go through Rohtang pass by bus unlike how we came, crossing the Hampta Pass on foot.
Even after all these months as I am writing this down, just the memories of that place is enough to give me goosebumps allover.
 |
| Key Monastery |
Stranded at Chhatru:
On 1st July, we reached Chhatru at about noon after finishing the last day of our Hampta Pass trek. Just as we reached the camp we were made privy to a really bad news. Due to incessant rain for the last few days, the only motorable road to Manali via Rohtang Pass was cut off and the cars which were supposed to take us to Chandratal had not arrived. This setback poured cold-water on hundreds of people's plans as they were all stranded at Chhatru without any cell network. The only land-line was available after a 1 km hike to a private farm owned by some retired colonel.
 |
Chhatru |
After standing in line for nearly an hour we managed to call our travel agent and he assured that a car will come the next day as planned and pick us up. Unfortunately, we had to spend the day at Chhatru instead of seeing the fabled Chandrataal (the moon-lake).
After almost a week we were lucky enough to see a brilliant starlit sky together with a dazzling moonlit landscape. The sight was surreal and my photographs, taken with a mere kit lens; let alone my words can do justice to it.
After a good night's rest, we went out for a stroll and realised the situation was far worse than we thought. The queue of stranded cars now extended for more than a kilometer and at least a thousand people are now stranded. The situation was made much worse because of lack of communication. People were panicking and out of nowhere came this rumour that we are going to be stranded for at-least 3 days more. This rumour spread like wildfire and sent people into a frenzy, some started buying large quantities of biscuits and other dry food, some suddenly decided to cross the Hampta Pass on foot, it was utter pandemonium.
 |
| Sole Telephone booth near Chhatru |
A Different World
Just after a few minutes, we realised what a visual treat we were in for. My team-mates had previously criticised me for planning such a trip where the journey was more time demanding than the stays. Now they realised that the landscapes of Spiti Valley are of unmatched beauty and the contrast to the lush green hills we are so used to see was very stark.
The hills were of no particular colour, every hill had its own hue, its own texture and strong wind eroded away the softer sedimentary rocks for millions of years and created spectacular gravity-defying abstract sculptures.
The path is barely motorable, it is full of small boulders and sometimes we had to roll up the windows to prevent dust from getting in. After one and a half hour, we reached Batal. It is about 31 km from Chhatru and from here the road to Chandrataal splits off from the (so-called) Highway. Batal it is only 15km from the beautiful Chandrataal. We sighed collectively as we went past the road leading to Chandrataal. That road was also closed due to heavy landslides and even if it were open we could not afford a night there. For now, it remains in our bucket-list.
 |
| Losar and eroded mountains in the background |
Rejuvenated by toast, omelette, noodles and cups of coffee once again we hit the dusty road. Every turn looked more beautiful than the last and we would often irritate the driver by asking him to stop frequently. Seeing that the daylight is fading fast we refrained from these unscheduled photo ops and at about 7.30 pm we reached the Kaza bus Stand. The office of the agency (Spiti Valley Tour: 9418537689) had already been closed and hence we boarded a nearby homestay owned by a local elderly woman. The strict business-woman refused to budge from her price even when we called her 'Didi' affectionately, tough bird !
After a sumptuous dinner, we surrendered our tired bodies and dreamy minds to the fluffy (but heavy) blankets. the oxygen depleted air did not let us sleep peacefully though.
KEY MONASTERY
After a really heavy breakfast, which raised a few eyebrows in a small sweet-shop we reserved a car which took us to the Key Monastery. The Key Village is about 15-16 km from Kaza and the majestic key monastery looks over the village. A single glance at the magnificent structure is enough to instill a sense of mystery and awe into the hearts of the beholders. At the base of the monastery, there is a small cafe cum hotel with well-decorated rooms but we marched on towards the upper reaches of the Gompa.
The office was on the same floor as the main worshiping hall. I hesitatingly approached an elderly Lama and asked him whether we are allowed to stay inside the monastery. With a polite smile, he pointed upwards and said: "talk to the guy upstairs."
As we climbed up the entire valley opened up to us and the 'guy' explained that only a dormitory is available and the toilets were outside the dorm in the corridor. At that point we could not care less, the dorm had a ROOF. The roof probably had one of the best views imaginable and we stood there, spellbound. We could see the Key Village, the green pastures and the Spiti river meandering through the valley like a great serpent. The sky was unbelievably blue and the slight cold breeze made everything PERFECT.
Just look at the pictures, my feeble attempts to describe the scenery by using just words will be blasphemous.
After freshening up, we went for a stroll to soak in the view from every viewpoint. We were happy as larks, we could not believe our luck; we were staying at the place made of fairy tales and that too for only 250/- per person including food and lodging. We had missed our lunch by half an hour because the monks follow a strict routine, which the guests also must abide by.
In the evening we were served milk tea and barley or some other brown millet flour. seeing that we were expecting something more he explained that we should pour the tea into the bowl of flour and mix them and then eat the mixture. With 2 spoonfuls of sugar, it tasted quite good. But frankly, it was not enough to satiate our hunger, so we smuggled in veg pakora into the monastery (not sure if it was against the rules or not, Lord Buddha forgive us). Sitting on chairs and spare mattresses on the roof, chatting over hot cups of tea and pakoras, breathing in the cold mountain air, enjoying the scenic beauty as the sun began its journey behind the rocky peaks; I asked myself: "Can life get any better ?"
The depleted levels of Oxygen in the air took a toll on one of our team-mates. After a simple dinner, we turned in for the night.
The next morning we scrapped our plan to trek 6.6 km uphill to Kibber, arguably the highest altitude village in India. We were served a heavy breakfast of a lentil soup and a type of oily bread. As we entered the sanctum sanctorum of the monastery to pray for our safe return something beautiful caught our eyes. The little monks were sitting in queues waiting for their share of the breakfast and almost everyone was beaming ear to ear. Life and happiness is probably not as complicated as we think. We make it complicated by introducing desire, competition and ego, here amidst the towering mountains, those seems quite irrelevant.
With a strange sense of contentment we boarded the sole bus to Kaza. The next day we would retrace our path through Losar, Kunjum Pass, Chhatru and reach Manali. Only this time we would go through Rohtang pass by bus unlike how we came, crossing the Hampta Pass on foot.
Even after all these months as I am writing this down, just the memories of that place is enough to give me goosebumps allover.
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