Over half time already! So down we go towards Delhi.
Listening to LAYLA Derek and the Dominos
('Leh'la perhaps?)
Yep gotta be the rock 1970 version not the cruisy unplugged
version from 1992. They don't make music like this anymore
with Clapton and guest player Duane Allman playing together
on the the kick ass riff.
This version is live at Albert Hall. Fantastic!
LEH
We've made it to Leh! No real hugey I guess... lots of people visit this historical tourist destination. However, it is at an altitude of 3500 metres, and as a guide, Australia's biggy, Mount Kosciuszko (a bugger to spell !) stands at a slightly disappointing 2228 metres. If you fly to Leh, which most people do, you are advised to take it easy for a couple of days to let your body get used to the lack of oxygen or risk altitude sickness. Altitude sickness is kinda weird, I've had it a couple of times due to riding to high altitudes too quickly and I'm keen to avoid it this time. It's a super common thing but can get nasty really quickly. Our plan was to zoom upwards slowly via Kashmir so we can slowly acclimatise as we go, and it seems to have worked. I'm pretty/really breathless but feel Ok, and Brian, who's quite the athletic sportsman seems hardly affected.
So, let's have a look around!
We lob at the Mountain View Retreat Hotel on a bit of a high after the Kargil-Leh ride. Leh sits in a kind of bowl surrounded by spectacular dark mountains and seems a pretty dry area. The area appears reasonably affluent surviving on tourism and includes the now almost obligatory huge army camp on one side. The weather is perfect, mid to high twenties, but the midday sun is intense... really intense, you don't really get burnt but the light is super bright. We take it easy for the first day before idling into town to the central bazaar through the now expected crazy traffic.
Hmm, I dunno, it's pretty touristy.
Streets lined with assorted small specialist shops, many flogging scarves and shawls etc in local Pashmina wool, ladies of Tibetan appearance selling fruit and veg along the footpaths, while stray dogs sleep everywhere, only moving to follow the shade under the glaring sun. Hawkers wander the streets enticing the many foreign tourists to enter their stores... "no need to buy, I just show you" hmm ok. Above the bazaar the abandoned nine story Leh Palace lends some authentic historical appeal buuut for me, one lap of L shaped layout in the sun and I was a bit done. Brian suggests visiting the Central Asian Museum which is just behind the bazaar and although not a museum person I loved it. We purchase a couple of tickets from a lovely looking lady, way more engrossed with her phone than a couple of old guys fumbling with strange money, and head into a smallish multi story building loaded with multiple artifacts and old photos showing Lehs history as a trading post of the north. You work your way up floor by floor before arriving at the top story with open balconies offering great views of the palace and way out over Leh towards the mountains.
deserted tourist strip.
The palace looms to the left. Still no one around yet.
Leh seems to run mostly on tourism and the army.
Cow parking.
View over Leh from the top of the museum.
The palace as seen from the museum.
The way to the museum... always new ways
to bump your head!
Surrounded by mountains all round.
Not sure if it's the best or exotic, but it's the Marigold!
AT LAST!
I badly need some socks and jocks so I desperately ask around where the locals shop. The hotel manager Ajaz tells me there's multiple shops in the alleyways behind the main bazaar that may have what I need so it's back on the bikes and back we go to the bazaar. We wend our way off the main strip through narrow unmarked lanes away from the tourist traps and viola, the real thing! Multiple tiny shops selling clothes shovels plumbing tools buckets beauty care you name it. Tailors work away in the front windows, sides of meat hang in open doorways, the odd cow or scooter squeeze past, and rug and carpet salesmen hold deep discussions regarding quality and trust with unwary tourists. The signage on the shopfronts is fantastic...
...there's a calm feeling of real life happening away from the main tourist drag, we're not hassled and are hardly noticed wandering about taking photos and soaking it all up...
... love it!
I hope this works! Shop fronts in and about the market
with some music.... I hope!
THE BIKE HIRE THING
SO, THERE'S A LAW IN LADAKH THAT HIRE MOTORCYCLES FROM DELHI CAN ONLY BE RIDDEN ON THE MAIN HIGHWAY AND IN TOWN. SO TO VISIT THE PASSES, AND PANGONG LAKE, WE HAVE TO HIRE LOCAL PLATED MOTORCYCLES. OUR HOTEL GUY AJAZ ORGANISES A COUPLE OF HIMALAYANS (THE ONE I ORIGINALLY WANTED) FOR US FOR WHAT SEEMS A PRETTY EXPENSIVE PRICE. HMM. THE BIKES ROLL UP IN THE DARK AND A QUICK INSPECTION REVEALS THEY ARE TOTAL JUNK... OH DEAR... I DON'T WANT TO BE RUDE BUUUT I HAVE TO GET SERIOUS! I USE MY BUSINESS VOICE TO POINT OUT THEY'RE JUNK... AND THEY'RE TOO EXPENSIVE. THE NEXT MORNING THEY BRING TWO MORE... THEY ARE OK...ISH, AND A HEAP CHEAPER!
AAAAND THAT'S INDIA, ALWAYS ON THE HAGGLE!
PANGONG LAKE, CHANG LA PASS,
AND KHARDUNG LA PASS
Pangong Lake is a remote high altitude lake about a hundred and thirty K's long and lies at 4225 metres altitude. It's half in Eastern Tibet, therefore Chinese, and half in Ladakh, therefore India! Of course they argue who' owns what... blah blah.
We have sourced a special permit to go into this disputed area through our hotel, it's not really dangerous (we hope), just paperwork, and we're just going for a quick look.
We set off on the 320 kilometre round trip hoping to find somewhere to stay on the lake for the night. The road to Pangong Lake goes over Chang La pass which is one of the highest passes up this way... allegedly! Seems who has the highest pass is a bit of a pissing contest with different numbers quoted, especially on Chang la and Khardung La passes varying markedly! Let's try 5391 metres for this one... bloody high! The road varies between perfection and total shit! This is how Indian roads work.
The good/perfect parts never last and lead to a unkempt total pounding of man and machine in a churned up mess of dust trucks roadworkers and diesel fumes... before a little more perfection... and so on and so on!
As you climb up and up the diesel vehicles churn out ridiculous amount of sickening black smoke blanketing anyone foolish enough to pass them. The bikes lose power suffering badly from lack of air, which makes passing through the putrid black diesel veil beside every truck take even longer. Urgh. At the top there's the usual army presence and tourists (us!) puffing for breath while banging out photos. Our fingers and feet begin to buzz from lack of oxygen after a few minutes so it's time to fire up and leave.
Thanks Brian! I'll return the favour.
Considering it's only 150 odd kilometres to the lake, the high altitude and severe road conditions contribute to making the last fifty kilometres to the lake exhausting. The road is as rough as guts in places and I'm really worried that we won't get accommodation... or it will be really upmarket or expensive. We arrive at the lake to find it's erm... nothing like we thought!
Firstly, the lake is more than spectacular and...
...the rest of the place looks like a bit of a building site with shanty style restaurants and super simple flat pack rooms for rent everywhere. One thousand rupee, yep about twenty bucks Australian and we're in a clean basic room with no shower and the new 'hardest bed yet' title holder... sorted!
Brian can't get his camera out quick enough and legs it down the substantial slope to the lake.
Me, at 4200 odd metres, I'm wheezing a bit... but I get there eventually... getting back up though... well anyway. That night we chow out on the restaurant's finest Maggi noodles with vegetables (wonderfully extensive menu but sorry, only Maggi!) and sleep surprisingly well. The dawn doesn't disappoint with the clearest blue skies over a perfectly smooth pristine lake.
I stared and stared hoping to lock in the memory...
what can I say, you've gotta be here!
photo opportunities... they had all the poses... this is ours...
whadya reckon?
Brian soaking up the vibe!
Number 8, home of the world's hardest bed!
My temporarily rented Himalayan....hmm.
From Brians camera... hope it works.
Morning.
A good bit of road, get a picture!
We stopped off at Thiksey Monastery on the way back.
I'm not big on religious stuff but Brian did the whole tour.
We watched a lady who walk up these steps carrying
a child without stopping... Brian and I applauded her
when she got to the top... at 3500metres altitude
... respect!
Why do religious types always claim the best spots?
Best leave that one alone...
KHARDUNG LA PASS
and time to go.
So its one more pass, and then it's time to turn down towards Delhi. Khardung La pass is supposed to be the highest... or one of the highest motorable passes in the world. Who knows! A quick look at google just gave me 5359 metres... which is less than Chang La. However the sign at the top translated to 5480 metres...
sigh... once again let's just say it's bloody high!
Once again we needed a special permit as the road leads a bit close to the Pakistan border a bit further along. The day is yet another stunning sunny day as we head out of town into the mountains. It's only fifty kilometres to the top and although the road is still built under the Indian guide lines of perfect/shit/perfect/shit it's still a fun ride up. Leh is absolutely packed with hire motorcycles, some say up to eight thousand units, ninety nine percent of which seem to be Himalayans of the model I originally ordered in Delhi... just saying. Hmm, anyway the road is infested with dozens of hire bikes and SUVs heading up to the summit for a look. Once at the top it's quite a party with dozens of middle class Indians and families milling about enjoying the view and banging out photos at every tiny detail. The etiquette for gathering and take photos with the plaque at the top ranges from great people sharing photo opportunities, to total rudeness with the usual entitled middle/upper class line jumpers blocking the way with their vehicles etc... I dunno... seems odd.
The next day we chill out and prepare to say goodbye to Leh.
Oh and a great shot huh? One of the Indian people
sharing the view.
And this bloke just sitting around enjoying the view.
So many Indian tourists up here.
Most were very polite and good fun...
...and had all the poses!
LISTENING TO GOOD RIDDANCE GREEN DAY 1997
Actually written in 1993 also known as
Time of Your Life
Written by Billie Joe Armstrong in 1993 about his anger
at his girlfriend leaving him.
Such a cool song, click and enjoy.
Five million copies sold...
when they used to sell copies!
THE LONGEST DAY
Jesus how long can this go on. The gaily painted monster Tata truck in front of me sprays dust and rocks, while snorting gut sickening clouds of jet black diesel as it smashes it's way through the rock strewn moonscape. The bastard's unloaded and it's extra turn of speed makes it extra hairy to get round. I'm trying to read the best way through, but the dust and smoke makes figuring out the mental road surface a total lottery. Aaargh. I look up the right and see a chance just wide enough through super loose rubble and go for it. The bloody road orientated bike I'm on is a liability in these conditions and bucks and weaves as I try to squeeze by. As I draw level, just inches away from the truck's giant wheels I feel the heat and smell stinking brake dust while the Tata's tortured transmission whines in my ear like a bastard. I get to the front of the cab, almost past the dust and diesel and shit pouring over me and finally get a clear picture ahead.
Oh no !@#ck!
There's a deep water crossing lined with rocks just ahead and we're still going neck and neck. My brain does the calculations and says if I plant it and veer left, and maaaybe the truck driver hesitates, I'm good.
We hit the rock strewn bank together and "double !!@#ck" it's deeper and filled with bigger rocks than I thought.
Yeah Nah, my brain now says 'if you fall in front of this truck you're gonna die'! Aaaargh... I hit the picks and skid through the stones as the truck coats me in shit again and plunges past into the stream...
...aaaand then we start again!
Ley to Jispa
Leh to Jispa is about 330 kilometres. Having concentrated on planning so much on getting to Leh when organising this trip, I hadn't taken much notice of the route when heading back towards Delhi. Mala from Tony Bike Centre had advised us to get up super early and do the lot in one go as there is few places to stay and none particularly pleasant. Hmm, so I'm thinking just a long day on reasonable roads fighting it out with the usual crazy traffic...
WRONG!
This section turned out to be the toughest, most spectacular and the craziest section so far. Apologies but almost no photos as we were ambushed by one of India's most challenging routes and needed every moment and spec of concentration to get through... and stay alive really! I'm gonna try to keep this brief as we were pretty fried on this day but highly exhilarated as well.
Ooook, there's four high passes in this stretch...
...so I now know!
Taglang Pass 5328 metres
Lachulung La 5059 metres
Nakee La 4740 metres
Baralacha la 4850 metres
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Wrong!
Tanglang Pass
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Short breath and scenery that takes
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your breath away!
We leave Leh about sixish and head onto the NH3. It's a pleasant morning and we seem to be ahead of the expected trucks. We pass Karu and soon we start getting higher and higher and it begins to get cold, really cold! The climb up to Tanglang takes forever and it's hairpin after hairpin in freezing conditions. Because it takes so long we seem to be up higher a lot longer than other passes we've been to and altitude sickness becomes a worry. The road varies once again from perfect to total shit. We have our first long muddy sections and my poor bike is way out of it's comfort zone. After Tanglang we drop down in between a gorge like setting and the road turns to a potholed mess. Where the surface is not paved it's just moonscape. It feels like you've entered an abandoned quarry while following a crazy motorised conga line of diesel belching vehicles. There is no maintenance, just a rock strewn potholed surface torn up by multiple trucks and taxis over and over.
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happens when a truck comes the other way...
The motorcycle loses!
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Lunch at Sarchu - we ate at one of the
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shanty roadside Restaurants with a
German couple who were travelling in a taxi.
The food was local fare beans and rice.
Yeah nah had better sorry!
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One more pass after Sarchu... groan...
and a million more hairpins!
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Brian found Sarchu culturally quite interesting.
Mala told us not to stay here as it's kinda
unpleasant and it's at a very high altitude.
I'm with Mala!
Millimetres
One boot close to the edge,
while another truck squeezes by.
Just one tired muddy boot,
millimetres from slipping and time to die
All I've done all I have all I've ever wanted,
right there on cliff's edge
while another truck squeezes by.
Dean
Hours are spent in first and second gears peering round trucks and cars just hoping for a space to get round.
Just to play with your head, there's a stretch called the Debring plains where a wide flat open plain runs at high altitude between the mountains with a perfect undulating road surface. Suddenly you can zing along at 90 k's through absolute natural beauty into a freezing headwind before smashing into the next pass, Lachulung La. Every pass is a mash of endless hairpins, ripped up road surface and stunning scenery. The road is mostly one lane only on the passes and we often wait, time after time, with one foot inches from a cliff face while yet another truck squeezes by. There is very few private vehicles on this stretch. Mostly trucks, quite a few bikers and the odd taxi. Everybody mostly works together to help make space and get through endless obstructions but it's ooooh so tiring! There's a spot near Sarchu called Gata Loops that has 21 hairpins in 7 k's descending from 4600ish to 4190ish. The hairpins are so tight a vehicle going the same way is right next to you, just higher, going in the opposite direction!
We reach Jispa late afternoon and book into the Yak hotel. Cheap, tick! Warm beds, tick! Hottish shower, tick! Restaurant, tick!
Twenty two hundred rupees were never so well spent...
...I feel a bit old tonight!
Listening to HOTEL YORBA White Stripes
First ever single for White Stripes and allegedly recorded
in a room in the actual hotel. I'm a bit of a White Stripes fan, just can't go past that stripped back garage sound right?
Bit of thigh slappin yeehaa goin on here.
Turn it up!
Go Jack!
Jispa to Nagar
We wake to rain in Jispa and decide to take a day out hoping the rain will stop. After so much heat and dust it's kinda weird to be breaking out the waterproofs and all the warm clothing. Most of the town survives on tourism with many tent 'glamping' places skewed for the more adventurous (gullible?) tourist. As the rain comes down we're glad the Yak's got solid walls, showers and a real roof! Groups of Indian bikers pass through each way in the misty morning rain. Motorcycle tourism in India at the moment is huge and we have seen literally hundreds of Indian motorcycle tours everywhere. At breakfast we watch a local lady across the street toiling away on her roof in the rain. She ascends a wooden pole with notches chopped out (scary) and tries to arrange a tattered tarp to stop the rain leaking in. She then lobs an old piece of hose into the water pooling on the tarp and sucks away on it trying to siphon the water off onto the street. The house is an old concrete slab two story structure with living quarters upstairs and a large pile of hay on the roof. On the bottom story the cows live through the freezing winter surviving on the hay on the roof. It's a style of living that I guess hasn't changed in centuries... except for the concrete slab stuff... concrete rules in India...
...concrete slab stuff everywhere!
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Some locals still live in the old ways storing hay for the
winter and keeping their animals under the house.
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Jispa is a "top little place"!
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As it rained quite heavily we stayed a couple of nights
in Jispa. Some might say for recovery but
yeah nah it was raining Ok.
We head off from Jispa in light misty rain. The road for the first odd thirty k's is twisty chewed up bitumen that hugs the edge of the valley next to crumbling rock strewn cliffs. The most curvy parts even have crash barriers (!) for a change but these have had hiding and are seriously smashed up and bent all along. It's slow and steady on the slippery road and muddy unpaved sections as we head towards Manali. The Manali area is a popular tourist destination but was hit by huge monsoonal flooding a couple of months ago and apparently all roads south were impassable for some time. We're told they're now open but to expect serious holdups along the way... oh oh here we go again! There's another pass, the Rohtang Pass along the way which once again is famous for height and danger and snow and blah blah blah. Fortunately it can be bypassed by an newish extra long tunnel under the mountain named the Atal tunnel.
It's Tuesday, and the pass is closed for maintenance,
aaand to be real, we're over passes...
...aaand as I like tunnels, tunnel it is!
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So you can't stop in the tunnel.. however my bike
broke down just long enough for a photo...
and then restarted... lucky eh?
It's a stunning place to absorb and relax but remember it's India, so there's the usual dogs barking and horns blowing all day all night!
or any high viz in sight! Can't be Australia then!
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allegedly sold to the British for a gun!
(Maybe a little prompting with the gun?)
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...isn't that a song?
Views everywhere.
Yes, we have no bananas.. erm, what are
those bent yellow things then?
Listening to Rolling in the Deep Adele 2010
What can I say, topped the charts in 12 countries and seven weeks top of Billboard top 100 and year 2011 Billboard top single. Sooo everybody loves it... and I reckon they're right!
Big lungs big song!
REALITY CHECK
I'm on the bed desperately trying to bang this blog out in Shimla. One muddy boot holds the door ajar, and despite the usual cacophony of car horns and late afternoon mist, the scene out over the cliffside city is a salve for tired brain cells. Brian's out zooming around on foot soaking up the local vibe while I hit the keyboard. These blogs take so much to pull together and India just keeps delivering. Almost too much! Believe me what I write here is just an overview...
Sooo much to take in!
Just like the roads it constantly changes, just when you've had a gutsful there's something wonderful around the next corner... or a truck on the wrong side of the road... but anyway! We're still both in great health and getting on great which is lucky. The bikes are hanging in there although my bike being more road orientated beats me to a pulp on any crappy sections of road... which is every ten minutes on a good day! India has the worst roads I've seen in the world... and then ten minutes later, they're the best!
Aaah... that's India.
So next week, heading on down from Shimla, then somehow zoom around Delhi to Agra for a squiz at the Taj, then back to Delhi, and finally home.
Many thanks for following us so far!
Cheers to everybody for the comments. It's lovely to hear your thoughts and we appreciate your effort to send them. Smash em in anytime, it's always a buzz to hear from you!
