Looking Back

It had been a holiday of extremes.
Altitude, temperature, bleakness, beauty, exhaustion and spirituality: all had played their parts.

We visited a far-away, alien culture and were greeted with friendly innocence and hospitality.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

It was a truly amazing experience which I will never forget.

________________

________________

Main picture taken in Indira Gandhi International Airport, New Delhi. All other pictures taken in Cochin Airport, Delhi and Ladakh.

Nomads

The Tsomoriri Wetlands provide a winter home to nomadic shepherds.
They spend the milder summer months in the mountain highlands.

We were invited to look into the tents and see their way of life.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

This “inspection” made me feel rather uncomfortable: I worried that they felt like mere exhibits.
But what they really thought I will, of course, never know.

________________

Home From Home, Of Sorts..

On arriving in Tsomoriri  the driver and his cook immediately set about trying to find us accommodation.
They returned to the car looking just a little glum, worried that we might not be happy with what was on offer.

It was certainly basic:
no beds; just a mattress upon the floor.
But our experienced carers had wisely brought sleeping-bags, and a gas-fired stove.
While, fortunately for me, the room did have a sofa, of sorts, to sit on.

My life has been relatively privileged so it is no bad thing to experience the simpler life.
And on occasion, I have slept in even more modest style.

Despite the limitations, our cook produced an amazing supper.

But as far as the bathroom facilities were concerned,
a discreet veil of silence might be in order..

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

________________

The Cook, The Trip, His Friend and Their Driver

We were off to Tsomoriri, a high-altitude lake 15,000 ft above sea level, and over 200 kilometres from Leh.
The problem was finding somewhere to stay.
At this time of year nowhere is open:
the tourist season starts when the climate has improved.

Our tour organisers rose to the challenge by providing us with a cook,
and the hope he might find a local family willing to play host.

So, after an almost indecently early breakfast, we set out once more across the bleak Himalayan landscape,
stopping for hot tea, hot-sulphurous springs and a hot lunch.

________________

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

________________

Salt Lake – Without The City

After a night in Leh, we set out once more,
this time crossing mountain passes a mere 3 miles above sea-level.

By now, I was positively blasé:
probably the effect of altitude-induced oxygen deprivation.
My eyes were quite painful: I could see almost nothing other than a fierce reflected glare from the snow.
But simultaneously, I felt something bordering on euphoria.

So perhaps it was fortunate that we rapidly descended three thousand feet into less blinding light and just a little more oxygen.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Our destination was Pangong Tso:
a salt lake fed by mountain streams but lacking any outflow;
a lake whose far shore laps against neighbouring China.

Despite its salinity, the extreme altitude means Pangong Tso sits frozen for many months of the year.
A salt lake without a city, and also lacking a Tabernacle Choir!
________________

Just Deserts

It was a day of surreal contrasts.

First a morning spent traversing “the world’s highest motorable road“ with snow-chains fixed to our wheels,
then lunch in a restaurant staffed by a silent Buddhist monk,
and now an afternoon crossing the Nubra Valley desert – on camel.

I must be honest:
There was no real need to cross the desert, nor hire these beasts of burden.
But bactrian camels have been used to carry travellers across this part of the ancient Silk Route for more than two thousand years.
It was an opportunity I could not refuse!

With almost touching naiveté, I had imagined this would be similar to riding a horse.
I was mistaken:
For a start, there were no stirrups.
And trying to hang on to the animal with only one hand, whilst the other furiously gripped a camera, made the experience even more interesting.

It is surprisingly difficult to take a photograph whilst sitting astride a camel in motion,
but frankly alarming to be on the poor beast when it finally sits down!

So despite being treated with genuine care and concern by our camel-handlers,
(and sadly,  ”our camel-handlers” is an expression I rarely have the opportunity to use)
it was with a slight sense of relief that we returned to a more familiar form of transport.

The beers we shared at the end of the day were, I think, well deserved.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

________________

________________

All bar one of these pictures were taken in the Nubra Valley highland deserts.

Enlightened Over Lunch

Arriving at our lunchtime restaurant, we thought this time there would be no puzzlement.
Experience had taught us the custom of being taken first to a bedroom.

But Ladakh still managed to surprise us:
We were welcomed by a Buddhist monk.
Quite what his role was, I never understood.
He appeared to do little other than sit at the reception desk, smiling in silence.
But, while maintaining that silence, somehow the monk summoned our hotel’s owner.

Again, we were shown first to a bedroom where, after a chance to wash and make ourselves comfortable, tea was served.
Feeling  relaxed and refreshed, we wandered down to the dining room to take lunch.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Then sat outside for a few minutes, luxuriating in the gentle warmth of  spring sunshine.
________________

Halfway Descent

We descend from a morning high above the snow-line, to noon in a very different world.

This is the Nubra Valley, where all is fiercely arid yet almost bizarrely  colourful.

________________

________________

 Pictures taken during our descent to the Nubra Valley, Ladakh

Feat Of Clay..

From Tingmosgang to Basgo,
a centuries-old monastic fort complex, built of mud rather than stone.

 Though Norvo, our driver, had seen it all many times before,
many, many times before..

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

________________

Night And Day

________________

Initially, arriving back at our guest-house, we failed to notice there was no electric power.
But as the darkness grew ever denser, it became very apparent.
Not only were we unable to read, the temperature had begun to plummet.

There was little to do other than listen to our anxious host attempting to start his petrol-powered generator.
Once light was regained, he invited us to join his family in “the kitchen”: a large, gloriously warm room, heated by a wood-stove.

Suddenly, we were en famille with four generations of Ladakhis:
the owner’s grandmother with her beads and prayer-wheel, oblivious to our presence and perpetually focused on another world;
his mother supervising the cooking; his wife serving us hot and delicious food;
the host himself, along with his brother, joining us for supper;
the youngest generation, fluent in English and busy on the internet.
All of us, seated on mats and cushions.
The room warm and welcoming, but without even a single chair.

When the meal finished, a gas-stove was taken up to our bedroom.
The generator continued to give lighting for almost another hour – but there was only ice-cold water for washing.
We disconnected the stove’s gas cylinder, turned off the light switches, then buried ourselves under several layers of thick blankets..
________________

At seven o’clock the next morning we were awoken with a large pot of hot Tibetan tea: an infusion of tea-leaves, butter, sugar and salt.
Thirty minutes later, a single bucket of hot water arrived.
Though the bathroom was so desperately cold that we could only stand on its freezing floor if wearing shoes, it was finally our chance to wash!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

After shamefully hasty ablutions, and having dressed as quickly as possible, the warm kitchen again awaited us,
along with an amazing breakfast of freshly cooked, hot pitta breads, butter, local apricot jam and steaming cups of coffee.
________________

________________

Pictures taken in the Namra Guesthouse, Tingmosgang, Ladakh.