[bigDaddy_In]

For 22 days, we embarked on another journey that stretched 8,652 kilometres and painted our memories with breath-taking landscapes, heart-warming experiences, and the quiet hum of the open road. This wasn't just a trip; it was the culmination of a dream nurtured since my undergraduate years. Our trusty steed, Goldberg(G), a Ford Freestyle with a diesel heart, embraced the joyous dance of the road, carrying us from the bustling streets of Bangalore to the serene beauty of Ladakh.Aura(A) my life partner, G and I traversed sun-drenched plains, climbed treacherous mountain passes like the Zojila, Khardung La, Umling La and crossed gushing rivers like the Krishna, Yamuna, Sutlej, Jhelum, Sind, and Indus, each turn revealing a new vista that left us breathless.

Prologue: From Pandemic Pause to Ladakh Pursuit

Amidst the 2020 chaos, adventure bloomed. We craved wind-whipped hair and virgin horizons. Spiti 2021 quenched our thirst (read the tale here (A Divine Call to Spiti Valley!)), with Ladakh earmarked for 2022. But life, the wily curveball artist, intervened. Dad's health took centre stage, transforming 2022 into a year of grit, not grand trips. Yet, under resilience's cloak, our dream flickered, fanned by unwavering hope and meticulous planning.

A cheeky caricature, born in a fleeting Pune night, became more than a mere trinket – it's a daily nod to the unshakeable bond between us, G , and the open road. Wonky grins, wind-tousled locks, and G's boot brimming with rucksacks hungry for adventure: the artist captured the very essence of our roadtrip mateship. Now, that image lives on as a sticker, our silent mascot hitching a ride through the mundane of everyday life. Every peek in the rearview mirror sparks a joyous memory – the shared chortles bouncing off canyon walls, the thrill of unfurling expressways, and the camaraderie forged over sun kissed dashboards. It's a constant nudge to chase horizons, a testament to the magic that blooms when friendship, wheels, and wanderlust collide. More than just a decal, it's a badge of honour, a whisper of "Go explore!" woven into every daily commute.


G, us, and a whole lotta wanderlust - stickerized for your viewing pleasure

Come January 2023, we confidently approached our workplaces, hearts set on a three-week leave. To our delight, our managers' faces mirrored our excitement, a testament to the trust built through consistent hard work. Remember, folks, your earned leaves are yours to claim! Invest in your well-being, in experiences that enrich your soul.

With calendars blocked and plans brimming, I dove into the nitty-gritty of our grand Ladakh adventure. For journeys like this, meticulous planning is key, and Google Sheets became my trusty travel companion. September, with the monsoon's grip loosening and slush a distant memory, was the perfect time to embark on our four-wheeled odyssey. Ladakh, nestled in the majestic Himalayas, Karakoram and Zanskar, awaited, promising breath-taking landscapes and soul-stirring experiences.

A hadn't experienced the joys of childhood trips like I had. So, I crafted an itinerary brimming with diverse destinations, ensuring an unforgettable voyage for us both. Our route unfolded like a treasure map: Bangalore (BLR) would be our launchpad, to the mesmerizing Kashmir valley followed by the breath-taking beauty of Ladakh. Himachal, nestled amidst snow-capped peaks, beckoned next before we dipped our toes in the spiritual aura of Amritsar and marvelled at the architectural grandeur of Agra. Finally, with hearts full and memories overflowing, we'd return to Bangalore, our adventure complete.


Planner

Preparation was key. G received a thorough pampering, and an emergency kit, complete with jerry cans, funnel can spout, and life-saving sundries, ensuring we were ready for anything. Packing for 22 days demanded that we be strategic in our approach. Decathlon's sturdy rucksacks held essentials for one-night stays, while larger luggage was strategically unpacked and repacked at longer halts. Vacuum-sealed bags kept dirty laundry at bay, and a surplus of undergarments (now a three-year supply!) eliminated the need for washing. Practicality trumped fashion – silicone shoe covers protected A’s footwear from unexpected dips.

Sustainability was our mantra. We ditched bottled water, relying on refillable sippers and the trusty 5-litre Bisleri jar, seeking refills at our homestays, pre-booked through Homestays of India for peace of mind.

This wasn't just a road trip; it was a testament to the power of planning, unwavering determination, and a deep love for exploration. We returned with hearts full of gratitude, minds brimming with memories, and a renewed appreciation for the simple joys of the open road. So, pack your bags, hit the gas, and create your epic adventure – one kilometre, one memory at a time.

Day 1(2nd Sept): Bangalore to Nagpur - A Journey Begins with Sunrise

Our adventure began at 3:43 am, Bangalore still yawning awake as we roared northward in our trusty car, G. The GoPro whirred, eager to capture the first golden brushstrokes of sunrise. We aren't content creators but love reliving journeys through the lens until the next big one beckons us.

http://youtu.be/YQPHqUVyrq8

The Banjarey song blasted from the speakers, an ode to our triumphant Spiti trip and a lucky charm for this new voyage. Rain tapped a brief rhythm on the windshield at 5 am, retreating before we crossed the Kia factory at 5:43 am. Hunger pangs led us to 'Hotel Inn' at 6:37 am(1st stop of the day), a new haven with spotless washrooms and hot, fluffy idlis that appeased my bread-averse stomach.


Stop 1: Breakfast

Back on the road, G received his first fuel fix alongside a much-needed coffee and loo break, an 18-minute pit stop for both the humans and machine. This stop(2nd of the day) was conveniently timed at 10:15 am and came just before entering the magnificent Nehru Outer Ring Road, Hyderabad. Lunchtime found us at a Jio petrol pump(3rd stop of the day), where soft, rolled-up Alu parathas (potato-stuffed flatbreads) fuelled our onward journey. This 22-minute break (1:42 pm to 2:04 pm) brought the promise of our Nagpur hotel near, Google Maps whispering of a 5-hour, 8-minute arrival. But NH-44 after Adilabad, we discovered, had morphed into a patchwork of bumps and cracks, worse than before. Our Le Meridien dream was dashed; a wedding claimed every room. Fortunately, Airport Centre Point Hotel welcomed us with open arms, though parking necessitated a negotiation. After all, who would let G stay out in the open? With smiles and shuffling, the hotel staff squeezed us in, their kindness warming our arrival.


Stop 2: Coffee, Diesel and Bio Break before getting on to Nehru Outer Ring Road, Hyd


Stop 3: Our neighbour Bharati was kind enough to cook these amazing parathas!


Stop 3: Best way to have lunch. P.S. Eating on the move is a big NO-NO when you travel with G

Back in the room, routine took over. Megabytes danced from phone to hard disk, preventing digital meltdowns. A whipped-up bread and butter for tomorrow's breakfast, a lifesaver on these early-start days. Dinner was room service, a Nagpur speciality—Saoji chicken. While the chicken fell short of expectations, the rest of the meal satisfied our weary bellies.

As the day drifted to a close, the odometer whispered secrets: 1,130 kilometres conquered in a single day. G averaged a steady 83 km/h, his engine purring a lullaby of 17.5 km/l fuel efficiency. Day 1 was done, filled with sunrise songs and the comforting hum of the open road. We were off to a good start, hearts full and wheels spinning towards the next adventure.

Day 2(3rd Sep): Nagpur to Greater Noida - Navigating Crumbling Roads, Cows and Craving Comforts

We bolted from Nagpur at 4:07 AM, Noida shimmering on the horizon. Breakfast and gas pit stop(1st stop of the day) was at an HP pump near Narsinghpur at 7:20 AM. The MP-UP stretch was a pothole-peppered landscape, lined with highway cows seemingly playing "Frogger" with our tires. This isn't just inconvenient, it's dangerous. I wish these gentle giants weren't left grazing on such busy roads. Suddenly, finger corns reared their ugly heads, threatening my grip on the wheel. No finger sleeves in our arsenal, so A became my knight in shining armour and procured it from a store. The owner of GN Sports' in Greater Noida, initially suspecting a prank, heroically agreed to help get them delivered to our hotel (bless his kind heart!).


Daybreak after crossing Pench


Stop 1: Diesel and Breakfast


Close encounter with her Majesty!

Hunger pangs struck near Jhansi, leading us to "Chulhewala" at 11:52 AM(2nd stop of the day) a delicious, early lunch fuelled us for the remaining leg. Jhansi was a scorcher, the sun an angry furnace. Traffic near Agra snarled our journey, adding a good hour (maybe more) to our travel time. We phoned GN Sports again, sending payment their way. Swiggy Genie to the rescue – finger sleeves were delivered to the hotel concierge!


Stop 2: Lunch


Usual Traffic Scene near Dholpur

Entering Greater Noida at 6:30 PM, we topped up G at a CoCo IOCL and finally reached Crowne Plaza at 7 PM. Rajesh, our 2021 luggage hero, warmly recognized us – a delightful surprise! Room service prices made our wallets wince, so we opted for some delicious take-out, happily approved by the hotel.


Some much-needed indulgence

Starting with an odometer reading of 68,208 km, we devoured 1,050 kilometres of asphalt, G averaging a respectable 74 km/h. His fuel efficiency also held its own, achieving a commendable 20 km/L. With each kilometre conquered, the needle on the fuel gauge barely flinched, a testament to his reliable engine and our steady cruising pace. By the time we reached Noida, G had devoured the highway like a true champion, ready to tackle new adventures with a purring engine and a full tank.

Day 3(4th Sep): Noida to Patnitop - Roadside Feasts and Unexpected Encounters

An early start at 4:09 am propelled us from Noida towards Patnitop. Murthal's famous parathas, 83 kilometres away, lured us, skipping breakfast at the hotel. With coffee filled in our mugs, a vital fuel for the day, we drove off.

Gulshan Dhaba at 5:30 am had us devouring our customary Aloo Piyaz parathas and kali dal, a perfect pit stop ritual. Back on the road by 6:11 am, we paused for another coffee break at Barista at 9:10 am. We relished the convenience of these big food chains dotting the highway, a luxury not commonly found across the country. Fate, however, had a windshield crack in store for us near Punjab, mirroring a past incident. Thankfully, the crack stayed confined to a bubble, prompting a wait-and-watch approach before repairs in Bangalore. Bridge work in Jammu led to frustrating detours.


Back after 2 years


OG Paratha


Much needed dose of caffeine


This was G's third windshield :(

Hunger returned at 1:30 pm, leading us to a CoCo BPCL fuel station with a decent food court. Refuelling and rice-dal-papad combo later, we faced the scorching Jammu heat. An unnerving encounter with a local tourist driver trying to bump us added tension to the already narrow, construction-plagued roads.


Lunch Stop near Jammu

As the weather turned slightly cloudy with rain showers, we stopped for photos amidst the serene beauty of pine forests. Finally, at 4:55 pm, we reached Hotel Green Top, our backup option after our desired choice was booked. Initial excitement with the pictures vanished upon arrival. Dirt and the need for maintenance screamed louder than words, especially for a 5.5k per night stay. The shabby washroom only amplified the disappointment. Dinner at their restaurant, however, saved the day with delicious naan and chicken tikka. As exhaustion set in, we called it a night at 9:30 pm, hoping for a brighter and more welcoming dawn in Patnitop.


Finally mountains and fresh air

Distance covered: 710 Km Avg speed: 65 km/h Mileage: 20.3

Day 4(5th Sep): Patnitop to Sonamarg - Kashmir's Glimpse & Pathan Suit Dreams

Rain woke us up at Patnitop, but we opted for extra sleep, breakfasting on tea dunked buns. At 7:45 am, we hit the road for Sonamarg, navigating bumpy tunnels under construction. Entering Kashmir Valley at 10:13 am, the landscape metamorphosed into breath-taking beauty. First stop? Shopping at Noor Mohd's charming shop. We learned to identify authentic saffron, indulged in delicious Kahwa and Shirmal at the neighbouring cafe. A Pathan suit hunt led us to Lal Chowk, where I found my dream outfit.


G looking "Badass" with the muck


The man himself with his treasure


Shopping always makes A happy


I told you

Dal Lake stole our hearts, its magnificence enjoyed from Chakosi Makosi cafe. A delicious lunch later, we set off for Sonamarg at 1:45 pm, vowing to dedicate a future trip to fully explore Kashmir's magic. A stop by the gushing Sind River led us to our beautiful stay at Arco Hotel & Resorts. Hot tea warmed us as clouds swirled above. The staff's warmth, like the property itself, was truly special. Dinner was an intimate affair, the staff keeping us company. Though breakfast was included, we planned an early departure. The manager Mr. Asif was kind enough to pack our breakfast even for a 5 am exit - which melted our hearts. This night, in the shadow of Himalayan giants, we basked in the warmth of Kashmiri hospitality.


Dal Lake was beautiful


Lunch with a view


NH1


By the beautiful Sind


Use of tech for our pictures


G parked at the hotel in Sonamarg


He is driven hard, loved harder


View from our room

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Day 5(6th Sep): Ladakh Embrace - A Day of Mountains, Monasteries, and Maggi

Dawn broke over Sonamarg, a breakfast box tucked under our arms courtesy of the hotel's kindness. Zojila loomed ahead, its legendary pass whispering promises of high altitude adventure. At 5:55 am, we reached the eastern checkpoint, waiting patiently for the 6 am opening. Then, a car honked, igniting my inner racer. With a surge of adrenaline, we zipped past the queue, leaving a trail of dust and surprised faces. G climbed gracefully until we reached its pinnacle, Zojila. The caricature sticker, a memento of our journey, found its first home at the board there. Ladakh officially welcomed us at 6:52 am.

http://youtu.be/MU9y9UZ1_Xw

First vehicle of the day at Zojila Top


Excited for the roads ahead


Ladakh finally


Stop for paperwork at the border


Road quality improves all of a sudden


Sunrise

Drass, Kargil, then the poignant War Memorial. We paid our respects to the martyred soldiers But hunger gnawing we refuelled with breakfast at 9 am. The landscape, once verdant, surrendered to stark desert beauty. Namik La at 10:53 am, Fotu La at 11:50 am, and then Lamayuru Monastery emerged, a majestic crown on the mountainside. After a delicious lunch at the monastery we got some prayer flags, each blessed by the Lama ji. Leaving Lamayuru at 1:50 pm, we finally reached our Leh homestay at 4:10 pm. Three nights awaited, dedicated to acclimatization.


Kargil War Memorial




Second Pass of the day


Third pass of the day


Lunch was good


Good roads all through


Leh city looked deserted


Home for the next three nights

Mr. Juma and his family, our kind homestay hosts, welcomed us with steaming mugs of tea and Maggi, manna for tired travellers. Sunset painted the terrace in fiery hues, a prelude to a delicious home-cooked dinner, a sweet respite from venturing out. Leh seemed strangely subdued, shops shuttered despite being a weekday. Mr. Juma explained a local protest – a young couple, fleeing to pursue their forbidden interfaith love, had sparked social outrage. The town stood united, teaching a hard lesson through silence. Hate echoes louder than love, it seems. But tonight, under a star-studded Leh sky, we held onto the hope that questions would be asked, and that love would rise again.

Day 6(7th Sep): Leh Delights - Monastery Hopping and Tibetan Treats

Mr. Juma's homemade apricot jam brightened our breakfast – a delicious start to a day of Leh exploration. At 9:40 am, we set off, my heart filled with a decade-old dream: to capture the iconic image of water and Stakna Monastery, frozen in time from a college senior's picture. After weaving through winding lanes, we found the perfect vantage point – the click didn't disappoint, a golden memory minted.


Ready to explore Leh


Getting lost in her lanes


The frame I was searching for


This goes straight on to our memory wall

Hemis Monastery beckoned next, its newly built underground museum sharing tales of the past. Photos forbidden, we surrendered to prayer and a warming cup of tea beside the monastery before venturing towards Thikse. The harsh midday sun painted the landscape unforgiving, so socks became our saviours as we navigated the scorching monastery floor. Lunch at The Tibetan Kitchen was a delicious gamble. The momos, while not quite reaching legendary status, provided a familiar bite. But it was the chicken thenthuk, a hearty noodle soup brimming with spice and chicken chunks, that truly stole the show. Each slurp left us wanting for more. The mutton gup shee, a savoury stir-fry of tender, spiced meat, played a perfect duet, a symphony of textures and tastes that danced on our tongues. While the setting might have been unconventional, the meal was a celebration of Tibetan culinary magic, leaving us happily fuelled for the rest of the day.


Hemis Monastery


Thikse Monastery


Inside Thikse, a play of light and shadow

Shopping for loved ones led us to the unique Central Asian Museum, a tapestry of Ladakh's cultural evolution. Serendipity struck as we met fellow Bangaloreans, and seasoned marathoners in the midst of our road trip adventure. The exchange sparkled with mutual disbelief!


The Marathon runners from BLR

Evening drew near, and we prepped for dawn's embrace at Shanti Stupa. Bags were packed, goodies tucked away, and slumber beckoned, a prelude to sun-kissed mornings and mountain magic.

Day 7(8th Sep): Leh Daybreak, Alchi Delights, and Engine Hiccups - A Day to Remember

Dawn gilded the sky as we reached Shanti Stupa, a sunrise serenade courtesy of an MMT miscue (5 am opening promised, 7 am reality encountered!). But a kind monk, echoing the stupa's message of peace, granted us early entry. Back at the homestay, breakfast satiated our wanderlust, and off we went to the Hall of Fame at 10:30 am. A passionate army guide's tales resonated through the museum, while the sight of two girls succumbing to altitude sickness served as a stark reminder of acclimatization's crucial dance.


Sunrise from Shanti Stupa


It was cold, but peaceful

Alchi beckoned next, its age-worn walls promising tales from a thousand yesterdays. We surrendered our phones and bags to the monastery's watchful lockers, leaving the digital world behind to enter a realm of hushed reverence. Sunbeams danced through ancient murals, whispering stories of deities and demons, saints and sinners. In this sacred space, every breath felt like a prayer, every footstep a pilgrimage.


Alchi Monastery

Emerging from the monastery's cool embrace, hunger gnawed at our bellies. Alchi Kitchen, a haven for weary travellers, welcomed us with open arms and tempting aromas. Spicy momos burst with juicy chicken, each bite a celebration of Ladakhi flavours. Tender Tingmo, fluffy steamed bread, soaked up the rich gravy of a slow-cooked mutton dish, warming our souls like the midday sun. And then, there was the Thukpa, a hearty noodle soup brimming with vegetables and meat, a symphony of textures and tastes. Each bite was a story, each dish a poem penned in spice and warmth. At Alchi Kitchen, lunch wasn't just to nourish the body, it was an immersion into the heart and soul of Ladakh. We left, bellies full and spirits soaring, ready to face the rest of our Leh adventure.


Beautiful Landscape

G gurgled appreciatively as the tank filled, but then, the dreaded engine check light sputtered to life as we entered Leh city. He was still going strong and there was no difference to his road manners. We reached the only Ford service centre, now managed by Mahindra at 4:40 pm, only to be met with initial skepticism. Our pleas for a thorough check were dismissed with shrugs and muttered pronouncements about contaminated diesel. Frustration simmered, but then, Mr. Jigme, the owner, intervened. His tech team telling him, "Kaun karega, 2-3 ghanta lagega?" (Who will do it, it will take 2-3 hours), hung heavy in the air. But for Mr. Jigme, thankfully it wasn't the end of the story. He pushed for a proper diagnosis, and finally, the elusive "OBD connector" emerged, the key to deciphering G’s woes. With a digital tap, the error – a turbocharger under boost issue – vanished, leaving behind a sigh of relief and a grateful nod to Mr. Jigme's persistence.


The technician who worked on G based on Mr. Jigme's instruction

Relieved and ready, we hit the market for some final Leh souvenirs. Dinner at Chopsticks Noodle Bar was a delicious affair, though A's eyes might have been bigger than her stomach. De Khambir's tempting Khambir sandwiches were packed for tomorrow's early departure, a delicious taste of Leh to take with us. Mr. Juma, off to his Nubra Valley home, had entrusted us with his keys, a testament to Leh's inherent trust. Loaded with luggage and memories, we drifted off, dreams filled with Ladakh's magic.


Ladakhi people have the warmest of smiles


Mr. Juma and family handing over keys to their home as they go to their village in Nubra

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Day 8(9th Sep):Leh to Turtuk:- Conquering Khardung La, Vegan Treats, and a Village Whispering History

Dawn cracked open, painting the sky in vibrant hues as we locked up our Leh homestay and hit the road at 5:45 am. South Pullu check post, at 6:20 am, was our gateway to Nubra's embrace. The crisp air, a refreshing slap after Leh's warmth, announced the mighty Khardung La ahead.


G getting a good 30 mins cold start

The ascent was exhilarating – icy winds whipping past, prayer flags fluttering like defiant butterflies. Each hairpin turn brought us closer to a childhood dream, the dream of standing atop the mighty Khardung La. Anticipation thrummed in my veins, a giddy mix of excitement and nervous trepidation. At 6:40 am, we conquered Khardung La. Stepping out of the car, I gasped. The world stretched out beneath us, a breath-taking expanse of snow-capped peaks and rugged valleys. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring the panorama, as the weight of that childhood dream, fulfilled at last, pressed down on me. Photos clicked, sticker proudly displayed, we descended, leaving a silent thank you to the mountain gods for this moment etched in eternity.

http://youtu.be/YzsN_qIcUbk

Grew up hearing stories of this place. And here we are!

North Pullu checkpoint at 7:12 am marked our entry into proper Nubra Valley. T-More, its promise of breakfast a comforting beacon, welcomed us at 8:20 am. Sadly, Jio and Airtel decided to play hide-and-seek, leaving us temporarily unplugged but free to savour the moment. Thoise, with its strategic Air Force base, demanded silence. We zipped past, cameras temporarily grounded, until Weeping Willow Café lured us in with the promise of chai. And what a delightful surprise it was! Children from a nearby school, eyes bright with laughter, were enjoying a picnic with their teachers. The invitation was instant, warm, and irresistible – tea, biscuits, and pakoras shared under the watchful gaze of the mountains. Thirty minutes of unexpected kindness later, we felt part of their world, ready for the final leg to Turtuk.


First site of Nubra


This Nala flowing beside Weeping Willow Café was the reason for stopping there


Was a pleasure getting to know these beautiful souls

At 12:50 pm, we arrived. Nestled amidst towering mountains, the village murmured stories of resilience and beauty. Parked cars lined the banks of the gurgling Shyok River, while homes, perched on slopes, seemed to touch the sky. Leaving G to rest, we embarked on a 15-minute walk to Balti Kitchen, a vegan haven promising farm-to-table freshness. The anticipation was palpable, and it didn't disappoint. Crisp salad greens kissed by morning dew, vegetables dancing with vibrant spices, and flavours as pure as the mountain air – each bite was a revelation. Bellies full and spirits soaring, we reached our quaint homestay, its windows framing a breath-taking panorama.


G parked, we pickup our bags and walk


View from our room

Yabgo Palace, a museum brimming with history, beckoned next. The King himself, a living thread in the tapestry of time, narrated his lineage, weaving stories of life before and after the East India Company's arrival. His voice, echoing through the palace's ancient halls, transported us to a bygone era. Turtuk itself was a symphony of gurgling streams, each one a thread of life running through its heart. The Balti Heritage House, over 150 years old, whispered tales of ancestors, while the Wartime Bunker and Cold Storage, though unseen due to fading light, stood as silent sentinels of a turbulent past.


Inside the palace


The king telling his life story


The Royal family chart


Water flows through every corner of the village. The sound is theraputic

As day dipped into dusk, the homestay lay out a feast of local flavours, a perfect finale to our Turtuk adventure. We drifted off to sleep, dreams filled with mountain majesty, village warmth, and the sweet ache of a childhood dream realized at Khardung La.

http://youtu.be/OxP019qF1-0

Day 9(10th Sep):Turtuk Tales and Diskit Delights - A Day Unfurling in Nubra Valley

Another sunrise serenaded us in Turtuk, A's yoga stretches echoing into the crisp mountain air. A hearty breakfast, courtesy of our host, propelled us as we set off for Thang, the crown jewel of Indian villages nestled against the Line of Control. Borders whispered tales of "what could have been," but disappointment melted away as Zubida Banu, a friendly vendor, handed us binoculars. Through her lens, we glimpsed a world both familiar and foreign, her story of a divided family resonating across borders.


The Pathan Suit from Lal Chowk and the Turtuk-i cap, outfit for the day


Politics and power diving land and families


Us at the viewpoint near Thang Village


Zubida Didi was too shy to give us a portrait

Apricots, the golden ghosts of summer, had danced out of reach during our stay. But fate, in the guise of an Indian Army stall, offered reprieve - canned sunshine to carry with us, a sweet souvenir of Nubra's bounty. Farmhouse Café, a pastel oasis amidst Turtuk's rugged charm, beckoned next. Buckwheat pizza, a rustic symphony of textures and flavours, surprised and delighted. Full to the brim and sun-kissed faces, we bid farewell to Turtuk, Weeping Willow Café once again humming with life was visited but this time with content creators weaving their own Nubra narrative.


This cafe was good!

Hunder, a sun-drenched canvas, surprised us with the sight of a double-humped camel. Though the sight was breath-taking, we took a moment to appreciate the camel without mounting it. While camel rides may seem picturesque, they often involve unethical practices. Camels are desert-adapted animals with specific weight carrying limitations. Tourist rides can overload them, causing exhaustion, pain, and even long-term injuries. We chose to admire this gentle giant from afar, respecting its well-being and opting for sustainable ways to explore the Nubra Valley.


The double hump camels of Hunder

Our ascent continued to Diskit Monastery, its imposing presence echoing Key Monastery's grandeur in Spiti. Lamas, with warm smiles and friendly chatter, welcomed us. In the monastery's embrace, amidst the scent of burning incense and ancient wisdom, we savoured blissful cups of butter tea, a warm hug against the crisp afternoon air. High above, the newly built Maitreya statue, a sentinel of peace, surveyed the vast Nubra Valley.




Diskit Monastery

With a full tank and jerry cans brimming, we finally reached Saser homestay in Sumur as dusk painted the sky. Its spacious rooms, filled with a promise of restful sleep awaited us. Mr. Tsering, our host, graced us with Chhutagi, a vegetable stew so simple yet exquisite, that it etched itself onto our taste buds as one of the journey's best. A made InDay sticker using 2 cello tapes and paper bought from a shop in Turtuk village to put on Umling La as she had forgotten to get them from home. (InDay is a day given to LinkedIn employees to invest in themselves every month, a reminder to prioritize personal growth and self-care – something particularly close to A's heart as a LinkedIn culture champion.)


Simple and delicious Chhutagi

Day 10(11th Sep):A Day at the Highest Battle Ground - Siachen Tales

Dawn kissed the Nubra Valley, painting the sky in vibrant hues as we set off for Siachen Base Camp, excitement fizzing in our veins. G purred with anticipation, eager to tackle the rugged road leading to the "Highest Battleground of the World."

But first, a chance encounter. A mother and child, their eyes glinting with hope, sought a lift to Youlkam. The single daily bus, their lifeline to the outside world, had already passed. We pulled over, their grateful smiles warming our hearts as we became vessels of serendipity, weaving a thread of connection in this stark landscape. Another soul boarded our chariot – a man on a monthly pilgrimage to the military camp's well-stocked shelves. His story narrated a portrait of life on the edge of the world, revealed a dependence on these vital supplies. In that moment, the stories of sacrifice danced between the soaring peaks, a reminder of the unseen heroes guarding the frozen frontiers.

Sasoma check post, a watchful guardian, scrutinized our unexpected passenger. The air crackled with unspoken questions, a testament to the strictures of life on the glacier. But soon, we were back on the road, the landscape morphing into a breath-taking tableau of snow-capped giants and wind-sculpted canyons.

Then, a pause. Road works, a battle against nature's defiant grip. The sun beat down mercilessly as workers scraped the mountainside for a precious trickle of water. Their Sisyphean toil, a stark contrast to our impatience, humbled us. Complaints dissolved into silence, replaced by an awed respect for their relentless spirit.


Men of the BRO struggling for drinking water. Sad site


They are equally important, if not more. Respect.

Finally, Siachen Base Camp. Stepping onto its dusty ground, we inhaled history and anticipation. We weren't mere tourists; we were visitors to a realm of silent guardians, their stories carved in the windswept air. The base camp, though not the glacial heart, still thrummed with a pulse of dedication and sacrifice.


First site


Siachen Glacier


Memorial



Back in Sumur, Mrs. Dolma's welcoming smile and Tanzen's infectious laughter greeted us like a warm embrace, Mr. Tserings wife and son. Homemade Thukpa, its noodles laden with Mrs. Dolma’s love. Sleep came easy, our dreams swirling with the echoes of Siachen's whispers and the comforting warmth of Nubra's hospitality.


Mrs. Dolma and Tanzen


Friends

This day, though not a climb onto the glacial giant itself, offered a taste of Siachen's spirit – the resilience of its inhabitants, the dedication of its guardians, and the warmth that blossoms even in the harshest of landscapes. A day that left us humbled, inspired, and irrevocably touched by the magic of Nubra.

[bigDaddy_In]

Day 11(12th Sep):Pangong's Embrace- Off-Road Thrills, Azure Depths, and Starry Whispers

Leaving Sumur was bittersweet. Mrs. Dolma, an angel in Nubra's disguise, insisted on preparing breakfast despite our protests. Her kindness, a warm ember glowing against the crisp dawn, fuelled us as we hit the road at 6:30 am. T-More, our trusty refuelling haven, saw us again, stomachs grumbling for a final Nubra feast. Then, the twist – the main road to Pangong Tso was closed! But where detours exist, adventure thrives. An off-road trail, twisting alongside the Shyok River, beckoned. This, friends, was the MYOR (Make Your Own Road) moment I'd dreamt of! Sun-drenched rocks danced beneath the tires, my inner thrill-seeker finally unleashed.


Mrs. Dolma bidding us goodbye


And the fun begins

http://youtu.be/IhbzT82AqJ0

Stones from the river of death, for the keeps


The dust looks good on him

Agham, a dusty outpost, marked our progress at 8:50 am. Shyok village, reached by 10:07 am, offered a tea break, a welcome sip of civilization amidst the wild beauty. Finally, as if emerging from a rugged dream, the first glimpse of Pangong Tso struck us breathless.


Mesmerised

The hues! A symphony of blues, deeper than any ocean, shimmered before us. Did paint companies steal their inspiration from this liquid masterpiece? Cameras clicked, faces awestruck, as we stopped to capture the moment.

A hiccup – the engine check light flickered on. But G, our trusty steed, purred on, unfazed. "Don't worry," I assured A, a mechanic's spirit calming her nerves. Pangong wouldn't be denied.

By 12:50 pm, we reached our homestay. Surprised smiles greeted us – apparently, early birds like us were rare. The place, a captivating blend of homestay and open-air camp (active May-September), whispered stories of seasons and travellers. During peak season, a Nepalese crew would weave their culinary magic for both campers and homestayers.

A quick lunch later, we were drawn by Pangong's magnetic pull. Staying in Merak meant serenity – no tourist hordes, just us and the lake's azure expanse. The silence, broken only by the wind's soft blow, was balm to the soul.






From our room

Back at the homestay, a steaming dinner warmed our bellies against the encroaching chill. Then, the night sky – our promised reward. Lights out, we lay back, anticipation fizzing. And then, magic unfolded. A million stars, diamonds scattered on black velvet, twinkled down at us. Heat pouches, our allies against the cold, cradled us in comfort. This day, a tapestry woven with unexpected detours, breath-taking beauty, and the quietude of a starry night, Pangong will be forever onto our souls. It was a day that confirmed, beyond doubt, that sometimes, the greatest journeys are born off the beaten track.

Day 12(13th Sep): Hanle - Where Sky Meets Soul, Kissed by Starlight

Dawn tiptoed into Merak, painting the lake in watercolour hues. We surrendered to its beauty, sipping coffee bathed in the sun's promise of warmth. Soon, though, that same sun would become a desert's adversary, but anticipation for Hanle, a stargazer's sanctuary, made us eager to start.. At 9 am, we set off, leaving Pangong with a wistful promise to return.


Our hosts in Merak

The Rezang La war memorial beckoned first. Here, army personnel, custodians of history, walked us through tales of valour. Mountains, silent sentinels, bore witness to Shaitan Singh's bravery in 1962, their peaks stretching into the Chinese horizon.


First visitors of the day at Rezangla War Memorial

Tsaga La, an unfurling ribbon of dirt and hope, awaited. Though not the first, this was our time to add a vibrant splash of colour to the landscape. We planted a prayer flag, its crimson promise fluttering proudly against the sky, joining others that added our hopes and dreams to the wind. Tar roads, scars on the landscape, spoke of China's watchful presence. My humble G, king of the rugged path, devoured dirt and sand with gusto, but then came a challenge: my trusty steed's engine cover, laden with dust, threatened to become a belly dancer on the rough terrain. As a precautionary measure, I had to carefully detach it, the sun beating down as I ensured G wouldn't lose his cool.








A small amputation procedure


The amputated part

http://youtu.be/faJo_h173Uc

Indo-Tibetan Border Police checkpoints emerged like punctuation marks on this dusty epic. The Indus, near Loma Bridge, showed its dual nature – calm now, raging just downstream. No network after Sumur, a digital detox embraced willingly. Then, a sign – "Wi-Fi in Hanle!" Lunch beckoned, a gamble for the internet amidst the digital void.


Loma Bend to Hanle has one of the best roads in Ladakh

At 2:10 pm, Hanle unfolded its simple embrace. Mr. Kalsang and Dolma Didi, our wonderful hosts, were momentarily absent, but a kind neighbour’s warmth filled the void as we settled into the homestay's only room with an attached washroom. Then, as the clock struck 4:15 pm, Mr. Kalsang and Dolma Didi returned from their day job with the Border Roads Organisation, their faces glowing with the satisfaction of work accomplished. In no time, Dolma Didi's nimble fingers conjured up steaming cups of tea, the perfect antidote to the day's journey. Sharing stories of life on the high frontier, they painted a vivid picture of their dedication and service, making the simple tea taste richer than any brew we'd ever known.


Cutest road crossing ever

Sunset, a symphony of gold and crimson, painted the fields near the homestay, a final act before the main event – the Milky Way. The lunar cycle, our silent navigator, promised the darkest of nights. Prayers planted to the sky gods, hoping for cloudless magic. And then, our whispers transformed into gasps. Planets, constellations, the Milky Way itself, blazed in a celestial tapestry above. Starlink satellites danced like cosmic fireflies. 3am, another peek at the canvas above. No photograph could capture the immensity, the soul-stirring beauty of that spectacle. The scientists, our fellow guests from ISRO, became cosmic guides, deciphering the constellations' secrets with Mr. Kalsang's quiet explanations and Dolma Didi's infectious enthusiasm adding to the magic. This day, a journey through history, dust, and breath-taking vistas, culminating in a night inscribed in starlight. Hanle, with its basic haven and boundless darkness, had gifted us the universe.






Milkyway captured on a mobile

Day 13(14th Sep): A Dance with Destiny - Pushing Limits on the Roof of the World

Anticipation thrummed through my veins like a pot of water about to boil. Today, we wouldn't follow the well-worn path. Instead, we'd chase murmurs of a hidden route, a secret passage carved by the wind and guarded by jealous mountains. Every fibre of my being tingled with the anticipation of the unknown, hungry for the story this day would write.

One name rose above the others - Mr. Kalsang, a wizened nomad with eyes that held the wisdom of a thousand sunsets. With a grin and a twinkle in his eye, he pointed northward, his calloused finger tracing a daring arc across the mountains. "There," he declared, "lies a shortcut, untamed and unforgiving, but a ribbon of pure adventure." His words sparked a fire in our hearts, a yearning for the thrill of the unknown.

Ignoring the well-worn asphalt, we veered towards the beckoning mountains. The familiar landscape dissolved into a jumbled patchwork of sand and stone, each bend a surprise, each rise a challenge. Rivers, icy veins through the land, demanded cunning crossings. Sand, a treacherous desert in miniature, swallowed our wheels, testing our mettle. But we danced with the wilderness, our instincts honed by the journey, laughter echoing defiance against the howling wind.




Sanded

Fate, however, had a twist in store. On a razor-sharp incline, G faltered, his engine sputtering a cough, steering wheel locked in a macabre grip. Panic, a cold serpent, coiled around our hearts. But even in the face of disaster, resilience flickered. With a surge of adrenaline, we coaxed G back to life, brakes screaming a desperate prayer. One wrong move, one delayed reaction, and the abyss would have claimed us. Relief, sharp and potent, washed over us as we surveyed the precarious dangle of a rear wheel over the precipice. Like desert flowers blooming after a sandstorm, help sprouted from the unexpected. Bikers, angels on two wheels, materialized, their kindness balm to our frayed nerves. A convoy of locals, faces etched with mountain wisdom, offered their muscle and expertise. Towing cables, cobbled together from unlikely sources, became our lifeline, pulling G from the jaws of disaster. But the locals spoke of caution. "Turn back," they urged, their words seasoned with concern, "another route awaits, safer and less treacherous.". The lure of the untamed path, however, still held its siren song. The shortcut, still on our mind from Mr. Kalsang's weathered map, called to our adventurous spirit. We, battered but not broken, decided to press on, a collective pulse of defiance thrumming in our hearts.

http://youtu.be/ApClVLxlOng

And so, the dance continued. The road ahead, a ribbon of sand, tested our mettle once more. G, his engine labouring, became mired in its depths. But defeat was a luxury we couldn't afford. We tinkered, we toiled, and finally, a stroke of inspiration - the traction control, a technological leash, was the culprit. With a click, its shackles fell away, and G, liberated, danced across the sandpit.


Stuck again, this time in 1 foot deep sand


Local driver on his 4x4 pickup helped and suggested to change the airfilter as G was struggling to breathe

http://youtu.be/SJ2YGzeuCMQ

Nerbole Top, our initial destination, became a footnote as we emerged onto the tarmac, a shortcut woven by fate. Umling La, the crown jewel of the day, finally yielded to our relentless pursuit. At its peak, amidst the celestial tapestry of wind-whipped prayer flags, a wave of triumph washed over us. We had stared into the abyss, and not only blinked, but laughed, defied, and ultimately, conquered.


This milestone has a special feeling. I struggled to breathe in Spiti, worked a lot to get fit for this trip, and I could feel the difference


My boy at the top of the motoring world






A with her InDay Sticker


A different feeling altogether

The descent, via Photi La, was a symphony of exhaustion and awe. Every muscle ached, every nerve sang with the reverberations of the day's trials. But as we rolled back into Hanle, the setting sun painting the sky in fiery farewells, a profound truth resonated within us. We had been forged in the crucible of the wild, forever marked by the day's scars and triumphs. And as we drifted off to sleep, nestled in the familiar embrace of the homestay, we knew that tomorrow, new adventures awaited, and we, forever ready, would write their stories.


Tired, mentally and physically

Mr. Kalsang's words, etched in our memory like the mountain ridges against the twilight sky, served as a reminder: the greatest journeys are often found not on the map, but in the mumbling of the wind, the call of the unknown, and the courage to dance with destiny on the edge of the world.

[bigDaddy_In]

Day 14(15th Sep): Chasing Shadows on the Road to Karzok

Hanle faded in the rear-view mirror, its breakfast aromas clinging to our memories as we chased the dragon's tail of smooth asphalt, its scales shimmering under a beautiful sky. But asphalt's reign, alas, proved fleeting, abruptly morphing into a dusty dance floor of construction and potholes.


Mr. Kalsang and Dolma Didi


Good roads till Sumdo


Kyagar Tso, sister of Tso Moriri

Unsure of Karzok's homestays, we had opted for the cozy embrace of a camp nestled beside the ethereal Tso Moriri Lake. Arriving at mid-day, we were welcomed by a chorus of Bengali greetings from our Kolkata and Jharkhand brethren. Lunch, however, remained a phantom in their minds, our arrival a secret they weren't privy to.

Undeterred, we embarked on a pilgrimage to the lake's sapphire mirror. Thirty minutes of crunching ice and wind's whispers later, we stood breathless, its turquoise wings spread before us, a spectacle for the soul. Hunger, however, proved a more demanding muse, leading us back to a humble monastery eatery. Here, we encountered the echoes of the Drukpa's compassionate decree, a plea for Buddhists to embrace a vegetarian path. Menus, once carnivorous beasts, had surrendered to the gentle reign of vegetables and eggs. But curiosity gnawed at us. Vibrant offerings scattered throughout monasteries - colourful drinks, chocolates, biscuits - spoke of a deeper code. In Diskit, A had sought wisdom from a Lama, discovering no rigid edict, just an open hand ready to receive whatever devotion offered.

http://youtu.be/yNhUVk5sgtg

So, in Karzok's monastery, amidst the afternoon prayers' sonorous chant, we too knelt, chocolates held aloft as humble tokens. Permission granted, we witnessed the ritual's serene unfolding, culminating in a sweet offering - Mirinda shared from a gleaming spoon and a humble candy, its sweetness lingering on our tongues like a blessing.

The biting cold, a sudden brush with winter's icy hand, painted the barren mountain in a coat of snow. Back at the camp, a steaming cup of tea, brewed in the generator's flickering symphony, became a balm against the night's harsh embrace. Dinner, a melody of familiar flavours played by our kind hosts, transported us back to the warmth of home. Another quilt, another hot water bag - an armour against the night's icy teeth. In the stillness of that coldest night, beneath a star-dusted sky, we dreamt of the adventures yet to come, the montageof mountains etched forever in our memory's embrace.


Rains and snowfall on the mountain peaks


Handmade socks by Dolma Didi our host in Hanle


It was cold

Day 15(16th Sep): Mountain Melodies and Cozy Charm in Teri Do

Energized by a hearty breakfast, we departed Karzok at 8:20 am, eager to soak in the beauty of Tso Moriri from another angle. The viewpoint, a crown jewel overlooking the turquoise serenity, showed us tales of forgotten glaciers and windswept solitude. From there, we ventured to Puga Hot Springs, nestled like a secret pearl amidst marshy land. Two prior attempts, our feet learning the language of mud, served as a prologue to the blissful warmth of the natural springs, where time evaporated in the steamy embrace.


At the view point, Tso Moriri




Puga Hot Spring


Chumathang, a pit stop on our winding road, satiated our hunger with hearty ramen and fluffy cookies, each bite a tiny blissin its own right. But the day's true symphony played in Teri Do, a detour spun from a friend's tale. Cho House, the homestay, wasn't just a building; it was a poem carved in apricot sunlight and emerald dreams. Walls, bathed in the soft hues of Ladakhi tradition, welcomed us like a long-lost friend.


Beautiful Cho House

Dechan and Tashi Aunty, the heart of this haven, welcomed us with smiles as bright as the prayer flags fluttering blessings in the wind. The afternoon sang with stories – snippets of their Ladakhi life, mixed with a dose of our travels, and the playful barks of Kesar and Boogie, two canine companions whose personalities were as distinct as their names. Dinner, an amalgamation of flavours on Tashi Aunty's canvas, painted our bellies and hearts with Ladakhi magic. Finally, lulled by the calmness of chamomile tea, we drifted off to sleep, the memory of apricot sunlight and emerald dreams clinging to our skin.

Teri Do, a silent promise found, wasn't just a detour; it was an oasis woven into our journey, a melody played on the wind, and a memory etched forever in our hearts. And Cho House, a jewel nestled in Ladakh, would forever share tales of kindness and magic, reminding us that sometimes, the most beautiful detours lead you straight to where you belong.

Day 16(17th Sep): A Day of Ups and Downs on the Road to Keylong

The aroma of freshly baked khambir bread, filled with freshest of the vegetables from Auntie and Dechan's magical farm, was the last breakfast at Ladakh as we bid farewell to this beautiful land with a promise made in our hearts to visit again. Each bite was a burst of flavour, a testament to the purity of nature's bounty, a stark contrast to the city's adulterated offerings. Set off for Keylong at 8:10 am, eager to conquer the day's adventures.


Best breakfast ever


Dechan and Tashi Aunty

The mighty Taglang La, the first pass on our journey, surrendered to our relentless climb. We danced across the vast More Plains, a 40-kilometer expanse of plateau perched at a dizzying 4800 meters. Then, the road transformed into a rugged beast, a broken dirt track after Pang, teeming with the thunderous symphony of heavy trucks. Lachung La and Nakeela, two more passes, bowed before our determination, and we snaked through the Gata Loops, each turn a breath-taking masterpiece.

http://youtu.be/DuEvSQlL6dg

http://youtu.be/pHApeX6-auE

By 2 pm, Sarchu welcomed us with the comforting aroma of a roadside dhaba. Lunch propelled our spirits, and we tackled the Baralachla, its treacherous potholes and construction zones, a reminder of the constant dance between progress and preservation in these wild lands. As the clouds gathered, casting a misty veil over the landscape, we finally reached Keylong at 5:10 pm, weary but exhilarated.


G posing with the big boys after doing most of what these guys have done or maybe more!



Our hopes soared as we approached Zomsa Culture Hub Stay, a name that promised an immersive experience. But disappointment awaited. The vibrant cultural place that we envisioned was replaced by despair.. Perhaps our Ladakhi homestays, with their abundance of warmth and human connection, had raised the bar too high. To top it off, the lack of a cook and the inconveniently located, shared washrooms tested our resilience. The property, though beautiful, felt like a hollow shell without the soul of its people.



As the rain lashed down, turning the path into a treacherous mudslide, we sought solace in the digital world, searching for a haven in Bir or beyond. But fate, it seemed, had other plans. With a sigh, we decided to make a dash for Amritsar. Over a simple dinner at a roadside eatery, we debated our next day’s route. Then, with a mix of excitement and trepidation, I threw caution to the wind. "The Rohtang La," I announced, my voice ringing with conviction, "that's the route we're taking. I have to retrace the steps of my younger self, to revisit a forgotten adventure. It's a memory I can't leave behind."

A, however, weary of the day's rollercoaster ride, hesitated. The knowledge of washed-away roads on the northern slopes of Rohtang La added to her apprehension. But after a while, "Alright then," she said, her voice catching a hint of my enthusiasm. "Let's chase that childhood dream. Together.".

The headlights of G, pointed towards the unknown, cast a hopeful beam into the darkness. The journey to Keylong, though fraught with challenges, was a testament to the human spirit's ability to adapt and persevere. But now, a different kind of excitement bubbled within us. The road to Rohtang La beckoned, not just as a route, but as a bridge to a forgotten treasure, a chance to reclaim a piece of my past. And as we drifted off to sleep, the whispers of the wind seemed to carry the laughter of my younger self, urging me forward, towards the fulfilment of a long-held promise, of coming back.

Day 17(18th Sep): A Detour Through Devastation, Finding Kindness and Kulchas in Amritsar

The pitter-patter of rain against the window was my unwelcome alarm at 3:30 am. A glance at the weather forecast confirmed my fears: heavy rain loomed in Manali. Rohtang Pass, the gateway to my childhood memory, would have to wait. With safety as our compass, we set off for Amritsar at 6:45 am, the rain a persistent companion throughout the journey.

As we navigated the Atal Tunnel, the devastation unleashed by a cloud burst in Manali and its surroundings shook us. Witnessing the scars etched across the landscape, the mangled remains of houses and businesses, was a gut-wrenching reminder of the delicate balance between human ambition and nature's wrath. The constant pursuit of growth without respecting the environment can only invite vengeance, a harsh lesson written in mud and debris. Despite the slow pace necessitated by the weather and the unsettling sights, the Himachal police were beacons of efficiency, managing the flow of traffic with admirable skill.




Washed out Manali

The niggling engine check light sign had to be checked, prompting us to contact the Ford service centre in Mandi. Thankfully, 19 kilometres before reaching Mandi, the engine check light mysteriously vanished without a trace. We weren't sure if it was a temporary glitch or a sign of something more sinister. However, with our destination drawing closer and no immediate issues manifesting, we decided to push on and get it checked with Ford.

Pulling into the Ford service centre around 11:15 am, we were greeted by the friendly staff. We explained the saga of the disappearing check light and requested a general check-up to ease our anxieties. While G, underwent a thorough examination, we took refuge in the service centre’s waiting area and ordered food to fill our growling stomachs. The team at the service centre was fantastic! They were efficient, attentive, and genuinely concerned about our problems. The examination revealed no underlying issues with G. The technicians suspected the check light might have been a false alarm triggered by a momentary hiccup in the system.


The OBD port revealed some serious issues


Best Customer Experience ever

With a clean bill of health and newfound confidence, we bid farewell to the service centre team and hit the road again at 12:30 pm. Hunger pangs led us to a highway food court at 3:50 pm, where juicy burgers became the perfect pit stop. Finally, at 5:55 pm, we found our Amritsar haven. A rickshaw ride later, we were at Giani, savouring the legendary lassi. The rickshaw driver, sensing our touristy enthusiasm for shopping, took us to a "recommended" market. Exhaustion clouded our judgment, and we fell prey to a classic tourist trap. The prices were exorbitant, the quality questionable, a harsh lesson in the importance of pre-emptive Googling and review-checking. A word of caution, fellow travellers: avoid rickshaw-driver-endorsed shopping places unless they come with glowing online testimonials!




Amritsar


Moments before the disaster

To wash away the bitter taste of the shopping misadventure, we sought solace in the delectable kulchas at Bharwan Da Dhaba. Each bite, fluffy and flavourful, was a balm to our weary souls. As we dozed off, the echoes of the day's experiences resonated within us: the raw power of nature, the kindness of strangers, and the bittersweet taste of touristy trap and its magical culinary delights. Amritsar, it seemed, held more than just lassi and scams; it held unexpected lessons and comforting flavours, all waiting to be discovered.


That lassi was something

[bigDaddy_In]

Day 18(19th Sep): Amritsar’s Charm and Disappointments

Amritsar welcomed us with a familiar drizzle and the chaotic symphony of the local traffic. Seeing the roads and the driving style, I readily agreed with A's suggestion to leave G parked and explore via Uber. Our first stop: the Partition Museum, its poignant exhibits offering a stark glimpse into history's painful scars.

Next, we walked towards Jalianwala Bagh, a place etched in my memory from childhood. It had morphed significantly, leaving me with a touch of bittersweet nostalgia. The drizzle continued to paint the city in a soft grey, but it couldn't dampen our spirits as we finally reached the majestic Golden Temple. The langar, a delicious expression of community and inclusivity, satiated our tummies and hearts. We bought prasad, eager to share the blessings with everyone back home. Then, we joined the queue to enter the temple, the anticipation building with each step. However, the allure of the Wagah border ceremony, coupled with the ever-growing queue, tugged at our schedule. With a pang of regret, we decided to skip the temple's inner sanctum, promising ourselves a return visit.





The journey to the Wagah border continued the theme of surprises, both good and bad. We retrieved our clothes from the infamous "scam shop," witnessing first-hand the constant flow of unsuspecting tourists falling prey to its deceptive tactics. On the plus side, our Uber driver obligingly agreed to take us directly to the Attari Wagah Border. While we'd pictured a solemn and patriotic atmosphere, the reality there was something else entirely. The crowd, a mix of tourists from all parts of the country, lacked basic civic sense and disregarded instructions entirely. The memorials, once a site of solemn reflection, felt overshadowed by the raucous, almost carnival-like atmosphere. The forced merriment, with people coerced into dancing and cheering, felt inauthentic and disrespectful. Disillusioned, we decided to leave before the ceremony ended, unable to stomach the incongruity of it all.



Seeking solace for our hearts and tired feet, we headed to Kesar Dhaba. Despite locals sharing that the place was trading on its name, the food proved to be a delightful surprise. Each bite was a burst of flavour, a heart-warming finale to a day of highs and lows.



Day 18, at Amritsar was filled with historical echoes, unexpected detours, and a surprising culinary delight, left us with a complex mix of emotions. The city's vibrant spirit, while undeniable, was equally intertwined with instances that left us pondering and questioning. Amritsar remained an enigma, a city woven with beauty and dissonance, begging to be unravelled further.

Day 19(20th Sep): A Journey to the City of Love, Intertwined with Kindness and Wonder

The Amritsar dawn saw us stirring at 6:45 am, hearts brimming with excitement for Agra, the city where Shah Jahan built an eternal ode to love. The early morning drizzle seemed a premonition, adding a touch of misty romance to the air.

Our first stop, at 8 am, was a brief professional pit stop I had to take. Duty done, we discovered a gem near Jalandhar – Haveli restaurant. Nestled amidst lush greenery, it served up a breakfast that was pure poetry on a plate. We hit the road again at 9:25 am, Haryana greeting us with playful bursts of rain. At 11 am, we stopped for a routine gas refill, the kilometres melting away beneath the wheels. But life, as it often does, had other plans. At 1:30 pm, our smooth journey screeched to a halt as we witnessed a horrifying accident. A young couple on a bike, helmets forgotten, collided with a car on the six-lane highway.


Kya kare babu, diesel yahi deta he

Adrenaline surging, we sprang into action. A, ever the voice of reason, dialled for help while I offered water and comfort to the shaken car couple. The locals, those unsung heroes, materialized, lifting the injured onto an auto bound for the nearest hospital. We shared dashcam footage with the shaken driver, hoping it might offer solace or clarity amidst the chaos.

The police arrived, grim-faced, and A provided details as I stood numbly, the echo of screeching metal still ringing in my ears. The faces of the young couple, etched with pain and vulnerability, haunted me. The incident, a brutal reminder of life's fragility, cast a sombre mood over our journey. We resumed at 1:54 pm, heavy hearts weighed down by the day's grim reality.

The Yamuna Expressway's food court offered a welcome break. Amidst the diverse culinary options, an idea of hope arose: wouldn't such thoughtful infrastructure be a blessing on all highways? Leaving the bustling food court, we continued our journey, anticipation slowly building for Agra's embrace.

At 4 pm, a feathered emerald streaked across our path – a peacock, its vibrant plumage a burst of joy against the fading sunlight. It felt like a good omen, a promise of beauty waiting just around the bend. And around 5:15 pm, there it was, the Taj Mahal, rising from the banks of the Yamuna like a dream made real. Hotel staff's warm smiles and the gentle tikka on our foreheads were just the beginning of the magic.





We couldn't resist the lure of the infinity pool, its shimmering surface reflecting the Taj's majestic silhouette. A few laps later, we lay back, mesmerized by the sunset painting the ivory monument in shades of rose and gold. It was a scene etched forever in our memories. Dinner that night was an ode to indulgence. The hotel's restaurant, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, offered a feast for the senses. Each dish, a miniature masterpiece, was a testament to Agra's culinary prowess. The live music, a gentle melody weaving through the air, completed the exquisite experience.





Tomorrow, the promise of a face-to-face encounter with the Taj awaited, promising a new chapter in our love story with this magnificent city.

Day 20(21st Sep): A Dawn Date with the Taj and Echoes of History

Agra awoke us to a humid embrace, a stark contrast to Bangalore's usual pleasant mornings. Still, fuelled by anticipation, we rose early, determined to greet the Taj Mahal at dawn. At 5:35 am, we set off, legs pumping against the humid air. Thankfully, the East Gate, close to our hotel, offered a shorter walk. Reaching at 6 am, we found ourselves amidst a growing human tide, the sun still veiled behind the horizon.

Disappointment tinged our hearts as we learned Taj Mahal opened 30 minutes before sunrise, meaning we'd missed the magical spectacle. But online tickets proved a lifesaver, bypassing lengthy queues. As we navigated the throngs, a constant chorus of "guide, guide" resonated around us. We'd heard the warnings – most illegal, lacking historical knowledge. Trusting in research and our hotel's guidance, we resisted their siren song.

Security presented another hurdle. Our trusty tripod, deemed forbidden, was held hostage until our return. Finding a photo spot in the crowd seemed equally daunting. However, perseverance led us towards the mausoleum, where quietude surprisingly reigned. Perhaps the extra ticket fee kept many at bay. Kind strangers, unprompted, became our makeshift photographers, capturing snapshots of us with the ivory wonder in the background. Leaving Taj's ethereal embrace around 7 am, we retreated to the hotel for a breakfast that, unfortunately, felt lacklustre compared to the morning's grandeur.









For Agra Fort and Fatehpur Sikri, we sought refuge in the comfort of a hired cab and knowledgeable guides booked through the hotel. The heat may have been relentless, but our Agra Fort guide's enthusiasm was infectious. His stories brought the fort's history to life, his camera-wielding skills leaving us with treasured memories.





Next, Fatehpur Sikri beckoned, its architectural grandeur rising from the plains. After a pit stop for lunch, we arrived at 2:45 pm, met our guide, and boarded the mandatory bus to the site. Salim Chisti's Dargah, whispered to grant wishes, held a strange duality. While devotion resonated, opportunistic mutters whispers of "donate for good luck" hung heavy in the air. Scams, sadly, seemed a tourist destination norm, mineral water bottles miraculously refilled and resold adding to the disenchantment.





The relentless heat and emotional rollercoaster of the day wore us down. After 1.5 hours, we retreated to the cool comfort of the cab, returning to the hotel by 4:30 pm. Exhausted, we opted for room service, the day's adventures leaving us with a bittersweet mix of wonder and frustration.

Day 21(22nd Sep): A Bumpy Odyssey from Agra to Nagpur

Bidding farewell to Agra's magic, we hit the road at 8:10 am, tires crunching on the damp tarmac. The constant drizzle, a departure from Agra's sunshine, felt strangely comforting.

Refuelling the car, we entered Bundelkhand Expressway via the famous Lucknow Agra Expressway, hopeful for a smooth journey. But hope, like the road ahead, proved to be an illusion. The highway beyond Bundelkhand Expressway, a cruel twist of fate, materialized as a nightmare. Potholes resembling lunar craters dotted the landscape, each bump threatening to throw us off course. And as if the treacherous road wasn't enough, bovines, kings of the highway, grazed nonchalantly amidst the chaos, demanding constant vigilance.

Six and a half hours of this gruelling drive later, we found ourselves back at Satyam Dhaba in Sagar, seeking solace in familiar territory. Sadly, the dhaba, like the roads, had fallen prey to neglect. Its charm dimmed, the food lacked its former spark, leaving us with a pang of disappointment. With resolute hearts, we decided to push on, opting for a non-stop drive in the hope of reaching our Nagpur haven. At 3:12 pm, we resumed our journey, the road morphing into a relentless obstacle course. Patchwork repairs, more akin to haphazard stitching, offered little respite. Still, the bigger obstacle remained – the cows, oblivious to the chaos they caused, reigned supreme.

Finally, at 8:06 pm, weary but relieved, we pulled into the familiar embrace of Le Meridien. Undergoing renovations, the hotel sported a slightly different air, but the warmth of its welcome remained unchanged. In-room dining, a simple feast after the day's ordeal, was savoured before we called it a night , lulled by the echoes of endless roads and the symphony of honking horns. The 982 kilometres, conquered at an average speed of 89 km/h, felt like a badge of honour.


As fresh as start of day 1

Day 22(23rd Sep): Homecoming after a Grand Epic

Le Meridien's promise of a 6:30 am breakfast proved a tad optimistic. The buffet, like their renovation project, remained half-finished, offering a limited selection to kickstart the journey. But 7:20 am saw us fuelled and rolling, ready to tackle the final leg home. Rain, our constant companion since Agra, poured its blessings on the windshield, blurring the landscape into a watercolour painting.


Team

The Nehru ORR, welcoming us around 12:52 pm, offered a brief respite from the downpour. But the quest for lunch proved trickier. Finding a decent joint amidst the highway jungle felt like searching for an oasis in a desert. Hill Park, finally located at 2:12 pm, offered an "okay-ish" experience. Still, hunger trumped culinary critique, and we savoured what we got before hitting the road again.


Coffee and Diesel was consumed in industrial quantities over the last 22 days

G , received a dose of liquid energy at a Jio BP pump in Kurnool, his engine purring with the promise of home. Deciding to skip further pitstops, we pressed on, Karnataka's border welcoming us at 7:30 pm. We pulled into our driveway at 9:30 pm, weary but grinning from ear to ear. Back in the land of familiar routines, our hearts still danced with the echoes of adventure. Disconnecting from the daily grind had been like taking a deep breath of fresh air, and we returned feeling vibrant and renewed.

Yes, there were bumps on the road, both literal and metaphorical, but they only served to highlight the beauty of the journey. From the majestic mountains to natures wrath to Taj's ethereal majesty to the unexpected encounters along the way, each day had painted a vibrant stroke on our travelogue. And as we settled back into the rhythm of home, a silent promise bloomed within us: we would find our way back to the open road, back to the adventures that awaited.

It wasn't just a return, it was a triumphant homecoming. We had chased sunsets, embraced history, and navigated the unexpected, emerging richer in experience and lighter in spirit. Now, with bags unpacked and memories neatly tucked away, we faced the future with eyes sparkling and hearts brimming with the joy of a journey well-travelled.


Home

Epilogue: Where Roads Converge and Hearts Expand

With the wheels of G finally parked back in their familiar spot, a hush fell over us. The engine cooled, the maps tucked away, but the echoes of our 22-day odyssey through the country lingered long after the journey’s end. This expedition, long-awaited and finally embraced, wasn't just a road trip; it was a homecoming of sorts.

G wasn't just a vehicle; it was a witness to our shared laughter, a silent confidante to our growing dreams. Each mile crunched under its tires etched a memory onto our souls. This journey wasn't just about conquering distances; it was about conquering ourselves. It was about embracing the unexpected, the detours, the moments of frustration and the overwhelming joy of finding hidden gems. It was about sharing meals with strangers, their stories becoming threads woven into the fabric of our own narrative.

And as we returned, not just refreshed and rejuvenated, but expanded in heart and spirit, we realised that the journey wasn't the destination. It was the laughter echoing in mountain passes, the shared silence under starlit skies, the friendships forged on dusty roads. It was the feeling of belonging, not to a place, but to the rustic experiences that life, in its boundless generosity, offered.

So, G may rest for now, its engine humming with the promise of future adventures. But the fire within us, ignited by the open road and the whispering winds of distant lands, burns bright. For we know, with a certainty in our souls, that every road leads home, not just to the familiar brick and mortar, but to the deeper understanding of ourselves and the world around us.

Expenses

• Accomodation: ₹94,199.49
• Fuel: 488.4Lts
• Fuel Cost: ₹44,613.93
• Food: ₹36,353.44
• Toll: ₹10,745.00
• New Tyres: ₹27,800.00
• Miscelaneous: Quite a lot
• Shopping: :|

[bigDaddy_In]

Last December(2023), A and I completed 5 years of married life and this January(2024) it was 17 years of knowing each other. love still driving us wild! ️ Check out our 5th anniversary caricature - us, Goldberg, and mountains of adventures (minus the mountain sickness, thankfully!). Big smiles, bigger hair, and a whole lotta love, all squeezed onto one canvas. Who needs a roadmap when you've got each other?

[Sheel]

Thread moved out from the Assembly Line. Thanks for sharing!

Extremely detailed T'Log, I loved going through the posts, pictures, your description and your experiences, wish you many more mega drives.

[Secretariat]

Stunning. Love your spirit of adventure, love the excellent prose, love the photos and above all, love the smiles. Wishing you lots more of such journeys and, surely, travelogues for us to savour.

Here's proof, if proof was needed, that you don't need a big SUV to conquer lands. It's a trusted steed of any hue and the lion heart of the driver that counts. Both were shown in ample measure here.

Bravo.

[Thyag]

Embarking on a long trip to Ladakh is truly an adventure that offers an unparalleled experience. Here's an appreciation for your journey to Ladakh:

Breathtaking Landscapes: Ladakh is renowned for its mesmerizing landscapes. The majestic Himalayan mountains, pristine lakes, and vast valleys create a surreal and awe-inspiring environment. Your appreciation for the natural beauty of Ladakh is well-deserved.

Cultural Richness: Ladakh is not only a visual treat but also a cultural haven. The region is home to a unique blend of Tibetan and Indian cultures. From ancient monasteries to vibrant festivals, you've had the chance to immerse yourself in the rich traditions of Ladakh.

Challenging Terrain: The journey to Ladakh is not for the faint-hearted. Navigating through high mountain passes and challenging terrains like the Magnetic Hill and Khardung La adds an element of thrill and accomplishment to your adventure. Your perseverance and resilience in tackling these obstacles deserve admiration.

Spirit of Adventure: Choosing to embark on a long trip to Ladakh reflects a true spirit of adventure. It's an expedition that requires careful planning, courage, and a love for exploration. Your willingness to embrace the unknown and venture into the remote corners of Ladakh speaks volumes about your adventurous spirit.

Connection with Locals: Interacting with the locals in Ladakh provides a unique insight into their way of life. The warmth and hospitality of the Ladakhi people add a special touch to your journey. Your openness to connect with the local community enhances the cultural exchange and makes your trip more meaningful.

Photographic Delight: Ladakh is a photographer's paradise. The ever-changing landscapes, vibrant monasteries, and the play of light at different times of the day create endless opportunities for stunning photographs. Your ability to capture the essence of Ladakh through your lens adds a beautiful dimension to your appreciation.

Self-Discovery: Long trips often offer moments of self-reflection and self-discovery. The serene and remote environment of Ladakh provides the perfect backdrop for introspection. The challenges and triumphs of the journey contribute to personal growth and a deeper understanding of oneself.

In summary, your long trip to Ladakh is a celebration of nature, culture, adventure, and self-discovery. It's an experience that goes beyond the physical journey, leaving you with memories and a newfound appreciation for the beauty and diversity of our world.

[vijayols]

Amazing post.Looks so daunting especially the long drives and the spirit to actually keep up to the excel plan.

Stunning photos and such detailed description. Treat to have read the post.

Wish you both many more lovely drives.

[Amrit@wheels]

One of the most engaging and lively travelogues I have ever gone through. Wishing you both many more drives.

[amitayu]

What a trip!
What a travelogue!!

Especially glad to see a Freestyle tour given I own a petrol variant.
Will read this post in details again and again.

[scorched_earth]

I liked reading your experience very much, as always it was full of useful details like your Spiti and Kolkata trip blogs. You will have wonderful memories to cherish and stories to tell later in life.

I attempted to break the "Myth of Sisyphus" about a decade and a half back when I had visited Ladakh when most of the areas were out of bounds, that time the frenzy of visiting the Tibetan plateau on the Bharat side had not picked up so much. Please pardon my use of the word frenzy. Keeping ecology aside, in a way it's good for the region as it gives employment opportunities to the locals and to an extent neutralizes our bordering not-so-friendly neighbours.
I was approaching Khardungla from south Pulu; as the traffic was sparse the army asked us to wait for a while for doing minor road repairs. I was fine with the proposal to wait with the implicit guarantee that if AMS sets in the army will help us.
While the road repair was going on I saw a couple of road construction workers having their food, I went and sat with them on the boulders and started a casual chit chat. Almost of them came from the tribal areas of Chattisgarh, Jharkhand and Odisha, well toned muscular fat-free bodies which we urbanites crave for. They were having aloo dum and roti which they had made in the morning in their base camps. In that freezing temperature the aloo dum was practically frozen and the rotis had become as hard as steel plates. In fact they were using the rotis as plates and eating them from one side. From time to time they were sipping water to soften the food. They asked us to spare some water to them which we gladly obliged. I was wondering here I was for adventure, self-discovery, experiential moments, Wordsworth moments, admire the landscapes, study the rocks and soil and what not, and here they were oblivious of the natural beauty and earning a livelihood.

Around the second World War, there were couple of buildings around the Beliaghata Sales Tax Building area that served as barracks for the Allied forces. These soldiers used to distribute chocolates to children and at times filter less cigarettes to men. Gradually it became a custom for the locals to ask for these whenever they saw white skinned soldiers; trading their self respect for some free food. That's why I never carry anything, other than my goodwill, for the locals whenever I visit remote areas.

Life is very tough in remote areas, leave Himalayas, even remote areas of the Eastern Ghats. The contrast of spending a couple of days in a remote home stay versus staying there for an assignment is unbelievable.

Here's one for the exploring couple, I witnessed a lovely red algae bloom in a saline puddle in Nubra.