So what simply must happen when a day goes unbelievably smooth? Murphy must pay a visit, of course. The magical day we had happens to coincide with The Dalai Lama's birthday. And somebody just has to celebrate by planting a bomb in Bodhgaya in Delhi.
The bomb blast causes outrage among the very peaceful looking Ladakhis. And they declare a bandh. Late that night, the villagers have a..umm..heart to heart with the drivers, making it clear that if we don't cross the place by 5 am, they will be possessed by a tyre slashing- rock throwing fit. The drivers get scared, alert the Trip Managers, and after much deliberation, it is decided we leave at 4 in the morning.
Sighs. I spend the last hours bidding good bye to the lovely stream, our tent, the trees, the attached tent loo - whatever I can find.
At 4 am, we all take off like refugees- but it turns out to be not as dramatic as I imagined it would be. Reason 1: the sun is up and shining bright at that unearthly hour. Reason 2: The the-snow-leopard-inside-us-
So after an uneventful ride back, we reach the guest house by 9 and settle in our rooms. Where we eat, sleep and watch tv. The uncanny resemblance to our Bangalore weekends leave us sighing and mumbling to each other till it becomes 5 pm. Aah the official closing time for the Bandh. He he..Bandh's closing time..get it? He he..anyways, we both pounce at the opportunity to go to the local market. While everybody shops for shawls and jewelry, we do what we do best- prowl for food.
We admire how the Ladakhis have opened their arms to the foreign population. You name it, they have a local version of it- The Pizza Hut, Punjabi Dhaba. And they have a huge number of German Bakeries stocked with peanut cookies, almond triangles, the yummiest apple pies, mascarpone cakes - you name it. And the paneer- the melt-in-your-mouth fluffy, poetry inducing paneer- words can't describe them.
Getting back on subject, we get a few souvenirs from the Tibetan Refugee Market, meet a Tamil speaking Ladakhi shopkeeper, feel a very tiny bit satisfied we've at least stepped out of the guest house that day, and catch a taxi back.
The guest house weirdly feels like home now - and we settle with the Carrom board. Only this time, the Lolly lickers have joined and hey, they're kind of fun, after all.
The bomb blast causes outrage among the very peaceful looking Ladakhis. And they declare a bandh. Late that night, the villagers have a..umm..heart to heart with the drivers, making it clear that if we don't cross the place by 5 am, they will be possessed by a tyre slashing- rock throwing fit. The drivers get scared, alert the Trip Managers, and after much deliberation, it is decided we leave at 4 in the morning.
Sighs. I spend the last hours bidding good bye to the lovely stream, our tent, the trees, the attached tent loo - whatever I can find.
At 4 am, we all take off like refugees- but it turns out to be not as dramatic as I imagined it would be. Reason 1: the sun is up and shining bright at that unearthly hour. Reason 2: The the-snow-leopard-inside-us-
So after an uneventful ride back, we reach the guest house by 9 and settle in our rooms. Where we eat, sleep and watch tv. The uncanny resemblance to our Bangalore weekends leave us sighing and mumbling to each other till it becomes 5 pm. Aah the official closing time for the Bandh. He he..Bandh's closing time..get it? He he..anyways, we both pounce at the opportunity to go to the local market. While everybody shops for shawls and jewelry, we do what we do best- prowl for food.
We admire how the Ladakhis have opened their arms to the foreign population. You name it, they have a local version of it- The Pizza Hut, Punjabi Dhaba. And they have a huge number of German Bakeries stocked with peanut cookies, almond triangles, the yummiest apple pies, mascarpone cakes - you name it. And the paneer- the melt-in-your-mouth fluffy, poetry inducing paneer- words can't describe them.
Getting back on subject, we get a few souvenirs from the Tibetan Refugee Market, meet a Tamil speaking Ladakhi shopkeeper, feel a very tiny bit satisfied we've at least stepped out of the guest house that day, and catch a taxi back.
The guest house weirdly feels like home now - and we settle with the Carrom board. Only this time, the Lolly lickers have joined and hey, they're kind of fun, after all.
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