Samba, when you write the log, very few things are left to be added. Excellent photos and journaling.
Spiti was a dream trip and I always wanted it to be special and in the company of the special - and that is actually how it all happened.
Here are some shots that to me represent our route in a few snaps:
As I said very little left to be said and yet I am greedy about sharing the experience from my side, so those of you reading on please excuse my lack of brevity.
I will dive straight into the woes of a trip like this because this needed planning and scheduling and packing, and not bathing and these are some of my weakest points.
Tackling the Indian family system:
“Who goes to Spiti in winters!”, my father retorted often, and very valid one at that. There are so many places like Goa, Andamans, Bali, Seychelles – places, the very names of which ring in a sunny image, and a balmy weather.
I have had to respond to my father’s questions with a tell-tale silence, quietly slipping from one room to the other, to avoid meeting his questions. A few nights prior to our departure, I have had to wake up at 4 AM to quietly pack my bags, to avoid my father’s frenzy as I amble from one room to the other collecting stuff that we would need to keep the death-degree-Celsius temperatures at bay.
How I packed:
I have a handy packing list always, that I can use for my travels. It saves me a lot of thinking. I am not good with reusing my clothes, and even worse at skipping baths.
While I was being cautioned about the packing, quite fervently by the team leader, I did launch my own procurement project, to ensure that if hell came tumbling down on us, we had it covered.
For example, my boots. My old snow boots had run out on me, and I needed a pair that won’t irritate my legs, give me sores and yet keep me warm. So, I turned to Amazon for buying a pair of Columbia boots that had enough insulation, and was waterproof, and flexible at the sheen. I know my foot size as 3.5, Columbia offers a 3.5 wide, which I felt would be reasonable with all the inner layers of socks and stockings. But the boots were showing up a price of anywhere from INR 15K-24K and it got me into a frenzy about looking them up every night at all odd hours, until one day the shopping gods smiled through the darkness, and I grabbed my favourite boots for a steal of INR 9000.
For indoors, I picked up a pair of faux-fur slippers right off the pedestrian vendor at the Green Park Market during my trip to New Delhi.
For my jacket, I wanted a long down coat. I used to have a very nice down-filled coat from Tommy Hilfiger that I had picked up for a steal in the US. 10 winters and some 10 kgs of weight gain, the coat has run out on me. So, I had to look for an alternative one. For the uninitiated, down-filled coats have feathers in them (look for the ethically sourced ones) and are very lightweight. An 800-fill is perfect for -20 degrees C, but it was tough to get one for a decent price. Also, I was also looking for a coat where the feather has been “ethically sourced.” Not much luck in terms of comfort, I got a down jacket from H&M, which teamed with inner and mid-layers, dd the job well.
Similarly, I had picked up a pair of crampons just in case one has to get down on black ice for any essential errand. Also, a rain cover to counter rain and snow. And then the regular muffs, hats, thermals, shades, etc. wet wipes, pee-safes, food packets, ginger candies and digestive candies, camphor wrapped in a handkerchief and locked in a zipouch, O2 cans, recyclable waste bags, extra zipouches, travel cubes to keep things organized, sunscreen, chocolates and gums, essential medicines – all packed in a suitcase, a duffle bag, and a backpack – no bags that have not previously comfortably traveled at the back of the Samba’s Duster.
We actually had a pilgrimage to the nearby Decathlon store, all of us travelling from Kolkata, in order to secure our clothes.
Need I say anything then about the car gear that went with us, thanks to Samba's planning about this.
The cold hit and how!
Imagine my delight when once we reached the Kaza Homestay and as per the house rules of the homestay we had to leave our shoes and boots outside the house at a place near the entrance!
I entered the homestay like a headless chicken and went straight to the “tandoor room.” I will say it lightly – but there was no denying how freezing it was! It was snowing outside, and it was beautiful.
And then we realised that there was no electricity. There were room heaters which were of no use. The bed warmers came to our rescue. They run on electricity from generators powered by petrol. Kaza boasts of housing the highest petrol pump station in the world.
The owners have had to get this extra petrol in jerry cans and store them in a manner that the fuel does not freeze. This fuel powers the generators that powers just one light in each room, and the bed warmers.
At Kalpa, we had already experienced the hoteliers at The Grand Shambala draining the pipelines at 10 PM, so that pipelines don’t freeze. Here, in Kaza, there was no water in the pipelines for obvious reasons. A half bucket of hot water at night, and a bucket of cold water to flush the toilet.
And then that experience that you do not want – happened! We had slept early at 10 AM. At about 2.30 AM, my stomach told me it was morning and that I have to go! I tossed and turned trying my best to fall asleep. I spoke to my poo coaxing it to go off to sleep. But when you have to go, you just have to. That fateful night at the homestay, I steeled my nerves as I picked up the tent light, stepped out of the blanket, and told myself that this hardship was about to build my character!
Electricity eluded us for all three nights. The second evening I did not want to get back to the hotel – the very thought that we would all be huddled in the tandoor room till 10, was making me uncomfortable. Changing from and to oodles of warm clothes had become the new normal.
But did I hate the homestay? Quite on the contrary, Jigme Homestay offered us the best stay in these harsh conditions - an attached bath to die for, and view rooms that opened into the expanse of Kaza Khas, a welcoming and helpful staff who cooked us some great meals Skincare:
For my very dry skin, I was using loads of stuff so that my skin doesn’t come off. And it was annoying. I had carried light to very heavy moisturisers and body oils and wet tissues and cotton pads soaked in toners to alleviate the calamitic dryness that we had pre-empted. So with my extreme dry skin the routine was – first, a layer of body oil that I had carried in a tiny spray bottle (even this froze on the third day in Kaza); second, a layer of toner to hydrate; third, a generous layer of very thick moisturiser, fourth a gel to seal it in. And then some more of thick moisturiser on the fingers and the face, just in case!
All of that takes time. If you are a neat freak, getting ready for the cold does take time!
My team:
Here's what a bunch of crazies look like. And the crazymaking is all right on time, getting from one place to the other.
All the time that Samba mentioned that the group had started out late, it was primarily either me or Dyutimoy.
In an attempt to fetch sympathies, in my defence, with all the packing and unpacking and being on the road all the time, and bathless days and nights - it was testing me like anything, I had a lot to keep up with.
And I am not very used to timekeeping. I have been a solo traveller who has taken time with a place to absorb and connect. I don’t mind losing a few places from the itinerary, trading it for a few more hours of lazing around in the same place. But this time we were in mission mode. And this team, their age in numbers all garbled by their fitness levels, had some energy!
If you are wondering if I am unhappy with my fellow travellers, they are the best one can ask for - collaborative, accommodating, and energetic!