Mini-bus ride from Leh, in Ladakh, to Manali, in Himachal Pradesh: 473 whiplash-enducing, gut-wrenching kilometers that takes 17 or 18 hours depending on the number of vomit stops. This works out to an average speed of 28km/hr, so you can imagine how slow we were bumping along when we were things were really rough.
We left Leh at 1:45 am. In fact, all buses leave Leh at pretty much the exact same time, even though the town rolls up its sidewalks at 10pm and there's next to nothing to do in between. I think I experienced something of this phenomenon leaving Nainital: there are lots of different bus services, but they all leave at exactly the same time, giving the customer no range of options.
In any event, off we went at 1:45 headed to Manali, across what is apparently the second highest drive-able pass in the world at over 5,200m in elevation. Indian pop music blaring over the loudspeaker helped the driver stay alert, I guess, but didn't make sleep any easier and was a far cry from the subtle pony-bell music camping in Markha Valley. Also, the guy beside me was a bit creepy and took more than his share of the double seat so my ride wasn't as great as it could have been. But at least I didn't have to sit upright and awake on a metal box in the aisle for the first 15 hours like that other guy had to until one of his mates spelled him off. Crossing the pass meant driving across a broad dish-shaped plain, rather than up and over a quick saddle. On top, especially in the pre-dawn light, the landscape was lunar: just dust, stones and the odd clump of thorny shrub. In fact, there wasn't even a road a lot of the time, so driving was more like dune-buggying or moon-buggying at times. In my half-asleep, half-awake daze, it was a pretty bizarre experience.
I think the combination of the bumpy terrain and the high elevation can make the ride pretty hard on some people and, as a result, two puke-stops were required for us (not me, thankfully) and we could see other mini-buses stopped in the middle of nowhere for the same reason.
Finally, we made it over the hump and started the bumpy way down to this parachute cafe stop at Pang, just in time for sunrise at 6am. Needless to say, it was freezing.
On it went, gradually grinding, bumping and hairpin-turning down through valleys and more passes for hours and hours while everything got greener and hotter and started to more like the Himalayas than the moon. In fact, by Manali, things were so lush and it looked a bit like British Columbia: tall pine trees, sharp mountains, ferns etc. But also cactuses: a bit of a wierd combo. But what a difference all that foliage made to the air quality. Goes to show you how well trees and plants clean the air. No more dust and diesel.
Our driver was great, but could be a bit of a cowboy, trying to overtake everything in sight. More than once, he was too impatient to take the hairpin turns and just short-cutted straight down the hillside. Good way to pass multiple vehicles at once, I guess, until we got stuck together while construction crews removed landslide debris on the road.
Finally, we arrived in Manali and drove into the bus parking lot. Not five feet from where the bus came to its final stop, one poor sod, who'd probably been struggling for hours to hold it in, couldn't any longer and launched projectile vomit from the back row of the bus - not the same fellow who was in trouble at the top. Your's truly, one row ahead got it in the hair, shirt and pants. Nice. Strangely, didn't bother me that much. I mean what can you do? It's not like he meant to do it. Maybe I was just delighted to have arrived, high on oxygen-rich air or just happy to get away from my seat mate.
All in all, it was actually a really beautiful drive and an experience I probably won't forget: the moonscape, dune-buggying accross the high level pass, sunrise at Pang and the gradual descent to the green mountains of Manali. Beautiful.
We left Leh at 1:45 am. In fact, all buses leave Leh at pretty much the exact same time, even though the town rolls up its sidewalks at 10pm and there's next to nothing to do in between. I think I experienced something of this phenomenon leaving Nainital: there are lots of different bus services, but they all leave at exactly the same time, giving the customer no range of options.
In any event, off we went at 1:45 headed to Manali, across what is apparently the second highest drive-able pass in the world at over 5,200m in elevation. Indian pop music blaring over the loudspeaker helped the driver stay alert, I guess, but didn't make sleep any easier and was a far cry from the subtle pony-bell music camping in Markha Valley. Also, the guy beside me was a bit creepy and took more than his share of the double seat so my ride wasn't as great as it could have been. But at least I didn't have to sit upright and awake on a metal box in the aisle for the first 15 hours like that other guy had to until one of his mates spelled him off. Crossing the pass meant driving across a broad dish-shaped plain, rather than up and over a quick saddle. On top, especially in the pre-dawn light, the landscape was lunar: just dust, stones and the odd clump of thorny shrub. In fact, there wasn't even a road a lot of the time, so driving was more like dune-buggying or moon-buggying at times. In my half-asleep, half-awake daze, it was a pretty bizarre experience.
I think the combination of the bumpy terrain and the high elevation can make the ride pretty hard on some people and, as a result, two puke-stops were required for us (not me, thankfully) and we could see other mini-buses stopped in the middle of nowhere for the same reason.
Finally, we made it over the hump and started the bumpy way down to this parachute cafe stop at Pang, just in time for sunrise at 6am. Needless to say, it was freezing.
 |
| Sunrise at Pang parachute cafes in the middle of nowhere |
 |
| My long shadow, as the sun just tops the horizon |
Our driver was great, but could be a bit of a cowboy, trying to overtake everything in sight. More than once, he was too impatient to take the hairpin turns and just short-cutted straight down the hillside. Good way to pass multiple vehicles at once, I guess, until we got stuck together while construction crews removed landslide debris on the road.
Finally, we arrived in Manali and drove into the bus parking lot. Not five feet from where the bus came to its final stop, one poor sod, who'd probably been struggling for hours to hold it in, couldn't any longer and launched projectile vomit from the back row of the bus - not the same fellow who was in trouble at the top. Your's truly, one row ahead got it in the hair, shirt and pants. Nice. Strangely, didn't bother me that much. I mean what can you do? It's not like he meant to do it. Maybe I was just delighted to have arrived, high on oxygen-rich air or just happy to get away from my seat mate.
All in all, it was actually a really beautiful drive and an experience I probably won't forget: the moonscape, dune-buggying accross the high level pass, sunrise at Pang and the gradual descent to the green mountains of Manali. Beautiful.
No comments:
Post a Comment