We set off early and although it wasn’t long before the rush hour traffic started to build it wasn’t as hellish as we were expecting.
OK, we get the message (should have got a louder horn).
If your moped breaks down it’s always good to have a Plan B.
At times progress was very slow.
John contemplates squeezing between the tuk tuks!
Our first night on the road was spent in Chandigarh which was built as the new capital of Punjab when India was partitioned from Pakistan in 1947. Seemed a nice (very calm by Indian standards) town but for us it was just a stop over in a perfectly ok hotel and a very forgettable and expensive pseudo Italian meal (should of known better but needed a change from curry).
Next we travelled to Amritsar the closest Indian city to the border with Pakistan. It’s a pretty frantic place but we stayed in a great guesthouse a few km outside the city.
Mrs Bhandari’s is like stepping back in time, it is an assortment of buildings that made up part of the Officers quarters in the city’s military town. Most of the fixtures and furniture are from the 1940’s, no telly, internet so slow it wasn’t worth bothering. All in all very relaxing!
They even had a small herd of buffalo that supplied all the milk, cheese and yoghurt.
Every evening the public can watch the border closing ceremony at the India/Pakistan border. On the Indian side it was one big party, lots of Indian tourists attend and are whipped into a patriotic frenzy with flag waving and Bollywood music.
The top of this soldier's hat really should be detachable it would make such a handy fan in the heat!
This photo doesn’t do these ladies justice, they were jogging along at quite a pace. Probably not easy in a sari and it was about 35C.
Very impressive pomp and ceremony.
The biggest tourist draw in Amritsar is the Golden Temple, the holiest of Sikh temples. It is a stunning building and all are welcome as long as your head is covered and your feet are bare and washed.
We missed a good photo opportunity, some young Sikh guys stopped to chat to us and we should have asked them to fashion John’s headwear into a proper turban. I had tied a big check scarf round John’s head in a way that made him look like a cross between Yasser Arafat and a gypsy fortune teller! (sorry no photo of that either!)
One of my most embarrassing moments for a while. This elderly Sikh gentleman engaged me in conversation and before long the question of ‘How many children did I have?’ came up. Now, based on the experiences of others I knew the answer to this should be anything but the truth! So why on earth did I say “We don’t have any children”! He was suitably concerned for me and after asking me many questions about my menstrual cycle (yes I know that’s too much information but just think how I felt!) he determined that something was wrong with my husband and I should get him checked out! If John had known he hopefully would have come and rescued me rather than taking a photo!
The streets around the Golden Temple, fun to watch but with the heat this time of year and the full on traffic and noise it’s hard work to walk around.
John and a group of students we chatted to for ages.
We left Amritsar and headed north climbing to around 1700 metres towards Dharamsala and Mcleod Ganj, this area is close to the border with Tibet and many Tibetans have fled here since Tibet has been under Chinese rule. Mcleod Ganj is now the home of the Dalai Lama and the exiled Tibetan government.
It was great to see snow and mountains as we approached, we had both forgotten how much we missed this type of landscape.
Tibetan monks stage regular candlelit processions and there are lots of events aimed at raising awareness of the Tibetan situation.
The view from our £8 a night guesthouse, not bad eh.
John’s turn for an embarrassing moment. One morning we were having a leisurely breakfast in a nice café overlooking the snow capped mountains and a young Tibetan guy handed us a flyer promoting an evening of traditional music and dance. Now I’m always a sucker for this type of thing, John is not so keen but agreed to come along that evening. The evening started with the young performer telling us how his family had fled from Tibet and walked for 14 days to join the Tibetan community in Mcleod Ganj. It was an inspiring story and the traditional dances and songs he performed where ’interesting’. However his repertoire of national dance was limited and he obviously thought he needed to extend the performance (shame he should have quit while he was ahead). He then proceeded to pull audience members (all the men) up to ‘dance’ with him to trashy western disco music. John’s critique of the performance “What a load if shit!”
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