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| Mountain range, as seen, from Kalinchowk. |
I don’t believe in superstitions. But don’t know why, it seems that if I hike and travel on the first day of the year, the spirit will continue throughout the year.
Keeping up with the tradition of travelling
to new destinations on the first of January, along with my two friends Dilli
and Deb, I set out for a hike to Kalinchowk, a famous religious and touristic spot
in Dolakha district.
One thing special about the trip was no
substantial planning involved. Now ask me why I believe in such an old
philosophy of procrastinators. Let me tell you – it makes the journey more
unpredictable and filled with surprises.
The
unofficial blockade has blocked the veins of economy. But people have no
complaints.
The journey to Charikot in a public bus was
a memorable one. We started at 9:30 am from the Old Bus Park and it took us
seven hours to reach Charikot. On the way, the bus stopped a zillion times to accommodate
the local passengers. One of the reasons for such a crowd in the bus was the fuel
scarcity due to the unofficial blockade. Half of the bus corridor was filled
with 50-litre jerry cans carrying diesel and other half with passengers, packed
like sardines. At places people even got up the bus roof-top with loads of
firewood. Not to mention, it was already packed with travellers.
As we got down the bus for snacks in the
mid-way, the restaurant owner quickly heated the chick-peas and potatoes over a
firewood stove. He had no qualms about using up the precious firewood in the
wake of the cooking gas shortage and he did not charge more than usual for this
extra service.
Back in the bus, the old people, ladies
with little children all clung to each other while some rested on the seats. Even
little children were standing along with their parents. But still they were
cracking jokes – about the hardships they had to face due to the unofficial blockade.
They had no complaints – neither against India nor the current government. The
whole bus was making its way through the narrow roads in a jolly mood.
A
frog’s leap for locals is more than leapfrogging for outsiders
Entering the Dolakha district, we could see
the buildings destroyed by the 25 April earthquake and people living in
temporary shelters. The landscape was a beauty to watch but the rubble and the
shelters were like lesions on a soft skin.
Finally after seven hours’ ride we reached
Charikot. Finding a place for the night was another big task in the New Year
eve. Although the hotels were booked and packed with new arrivals, we got a
nice deluxe room in a reputed hotel.
Another big and arduous task in front of us
was to find the right suggestion to get to Kalinchowk. Everybody we talked with
suggested hiring a jeep to Kuri. Although the distance from Charikot to Kuri is
only 18 kilometres, nobody advised us to hike. The didi at the hotel where we
stayed said that it would take us more than five hours to reach Kuri and additional
one hour to reach Kalinchowk from there.
The next morning we set up for the hike –
decided not to hire any vehicle to Kuri. However, as we were sipping tea in a
road-side café, luckily we met the president of the local transporters’
association. He advised us not to go on foot and said it would take seven hours
to reach Kuri. The number of hours needed to reach Kuri had increased with each
person we consulted. According to the first person we consulted, Kuri was only three
and half hour away from Charikot. Thus, after talking to the president, we
decided to take a jeep ride one way and he helped us connect to one of the local
drivers.
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| A tea-house in Kuri. |
Luckily, in next one hour we were at Kuri. Everything
was happening as per our sporadic plans and in a way it was much better than
planning everything in advance.
We saved almost five hours that, otherwise,
would have been spent in hiking uphill. For the locals the ascent takes 3.5
hours, but even for brisk walkers like us, it would have taken more than 5
hours.
Thus, we learnt an important lesson: Always
add an hour and half to what the locals say it will take, if you are planning an
uphill hike. For the locals it might be a frog’s leap but the same, for you,
might be a never-ending trek.
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| Kuri village, as seen, from Kalinchowk. |
Reaching Kuri on time had its own benefits.
We utilised the saved time well. Spending more than an hour on the peak,
clicking as much pictures as we could were the bonus of reaching earlier at the
hill-top.
The Mount Gauri Shankar (7,134m) and other
peaks seemed standing just next to us. The cool breeze atop the hill was
soothing and relaxing, especially after the tedious, almost 80 degrees climb
for an hour.
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| Bells and bells everywhere - the offerings from the worshipers. |
Once you reach the top (3800m), you get to
understand why the Shakti Peeths (the
place of worship, highly valued by the Hindus) are located at inaccessible
places. The place is free from unwanted crowd, pollution and whatever dirt the
mankind produces at easily accessible places.
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| Apart from bells, tridents are offered to Kalinchowk Bhagwati. |
We
will never get over with the Hindi music
While reaching the hill-top was bliss with
no trace of pollution, the bhajans
blaring out of the loudspeaker was piercing our ears. And imagine – all the
chants were in Hindi language, dubbed copies of latest Bollywood hits. Not to
mention, the songs with hints of sexuality.
I wonder when we will start promoting
Nepali bhajans. All the time we talk
about taking pride in being a sovereign country and banning Hindi movies and
television channels but forget that Indian-ness has penetrated skin-deep. It
won’t go away that easily.
The
black marketers need to learn lessons on humanity from Kuri hoteliers
While the ascent was difficult even for
regular hikers like us, descending down the peak was a much easier task.
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| If you pile up the stones, it will keep away your joint-aches. |
Reaching the base, we searched for our
Sherpa friend who had accompanied us in a jeep to Kuri from Charikot. To our
surprise, everyone in the small bazaar seemed to know each other and they
happily helped us find his lodge. What a shame, we had not even bothered to ask
his name during the one hour jeep ride. However, a man recognised him as we
described his appearance. He said, “Oh, that must be Kanchha!”
And Kanchha Sherpa, he was. He came,
leaving behind the clothes he was washing. With a big grin on his face, he
said, “I thought you guys won’t be back for lunch,” while his wife cursed him
for not telling her to prepare lunch.
In a jiffy she prepared snacks for us.
Imagine lighting up the improved cookstove and cooking food. But for her it was
a daily chore and in no time we were gulping down the egg noodles. When it was
time to pay, we were dumfounded – it was much cheaper than in Kathmandu!
In spite of the unofficial blockade and the
difficulty to get the commodities to that height, the prices had not
skyrocketed as in the capital. We could imagine how greedy the Kathmandu
businessmen had been.
They need to learn a lesson or two from
these relatively poor but honest businessmen!
Kathmanduites
still need to learn to be social
While we were going gaga over the good
people in Kuri, we had to face few thorns in the way.
We knew it would take us around five hours
to descend down to Charikot from Kuri as we hadn’t booked any vehicle for the return
trip. Luckily, a Bolero with a back carrier appeared from nowhere.
We were more
than happy and excited as we were, asked the people sitting in the front for a
hitchhike. Though the jeep had been reserved, they were okay with it and asked
us to jump on the back carrier. However, a girl and a boy sitting at the back
acted snobbish and said, “No, there’s no place, you guys can’t hop in like
anybody.”
And the boy wasn’t even looking at us. As
if we were some animals!
We knew the team was from Kathmandu. And the
message was loud and clear – they needed a lesson or two to be social!
Climate
change is real. And it’s happening.
Saddened by the behaviour of our fellow
Kathmanduites, we marched towards the hiking route – as brisk as we could.
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| Rhododendrons ready to blossom ahead of the blooming season. |
The walking route passed through a jungle
of rhododendron. To our surprise, the bushes were laden with flower buds – they
would bloom in a week or two. And it was just the first day of the year!
The rhododendrons bloomed only in March
earlier. Then the blooming season shifted to February and last year the
rhododendrons bloomed in mid-January. This year, it would bloom much earlier. The
change was there, right in front of our eyes – the real climate change. And it
was happening. In the broad daylight!
It’s
the motivation that matters. Be surrounded by optimists.
A good thing about walking back was the experience
– the walk up the hills and the following descent. On the way, we met three
young guys – tired both spirit-wise and fitness-wise. They had been walking for
seven hours and hadn’t met anybody to up their near-dead spirit. Somebody had
suggested that it was only a three and half hours walk to Kuri from Charikot –
same was what had been suggested to us.
Still they were half an hour away from
Kuri, the base camp to Kalinchok. We knew, for sure, they won’t be able to make
to the top that day as the temple gates closed at 4 pm. Seeing us, their faces
brightened up. They were face-to-face with another trio that was returning from
the summit!
When we said that they were only half an
hour away from the base camp their spirits suddenly charged up. We, too, were
happy to meet the youngsters. We told them about Kanchha Sherpa and his lodge
where they could put up that night and set for the hill-top the next day. They
were more than happy and as they bid goodbye, one of them said, “Dai, had we
not met with you, we would have left the hope to get to Kuri today.” Such is
the power of optimism and being surrounded by optimists.
The
earthquake not only took down the buildings but also shattered the human egos
As we returned to the hotel in Charikot, we
had a chat over a cup of coffee with a local hotelier. The couple had left
their hotel business after the 25 April earthquake and was sustaining the
family from the earnings of a small tea shop.
Most of the buildings near the shop had
visible cracks, few had fallen down and people were still getting rid of the
rubble. The lady was telling how hard the life was after the earthquake. “The
earthquake taught a great lesson to us all,” the man added. “All the tall
buildings had been built from bank loans just to compete with the neighbours
with high-rise buildings. The earthquake not only took down the buildings but
also shattered the human egos. Now all of them are back on the streets.”
How
to get there
If you have your own vehicle it takes one
hour to get to Dhulikhel from Central Kathmandu and from Dhulikhel you can
reach Charikot in three and half hours. From Charikot to Kuri it’s only 18
kilometres but as the road is uphill and bumpy it will take nearly one hour –
make sure you are riding an off-road vehicle. From Kuri to the Kalinchowk
hill-top is a forty-five minutes steep and arduous walk – if you keep on
climbing without a break, otherwise it might take you an hour or more.
If you opt for public vehicle, you can get
one from the Old Bus Park in Kathmandu. The journey to Charikot is of six hours
and costs NRs 335 per person. The buses run at an interval of an hour and half
and the first one leaves the bus stop at 5:30 am and the last one at around
noon. From Charikot to Kuri you can either hire a jeep (six people can fit in
the vehicle) for NRs 5,000 for a round-trip (but it will cost you NRs 3,700
one-way, if you plan to walk one-way) or hop into one run by the local
transporters’ association for NRs 250 per person.
Accommodation
and food
In Charikot there are plenty of good
hotels. However, it’s always good to book in advance in special occasions like
New Year or any Hindu festival. Kuri has few lodges, tea shops and a grand new
hotel. There’s no problem of getting good food. The hotels in Charikot charge a
room from NRs 800 – 1200 and it’s much cheaper in Kuri. The food is cheap – NRs
200 is more than enough for a meal.
