Meet my new phone

Well folks, I lost my old Nokia. I don't exactly remember how I lost it but it had something to do with one of my shirt/pant pockets, a traffic signal, a missed call and my bike. I retained my old number and blocked the sim but couldn't block my phone as I did not have neither the IMEI number nor the original bill. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Bright side: New phone. Meet the Sony Ericsson W300i Walkman Phone. I had got the exact same phone for my sis last month. Its beautiful, by the way. Sounds good too.

The biggest surprise for me though, was its stable and fast OS, and the highly customisable Java MIDP2 software. Lots of applications, and feels much better than the more expensive Symbian phones.

After some heavy bargaining by my friend Sahil (an old hand at such things), we got the phone (inclusive of taxes) for Rs.7000/- I'd say its the best deal today.

I got and recommend the following applications. Download them from 4shared or getjar.com as part of a pack.

Google Mail
Google Maps (data intensive, eats your phone bill)
Opera Mini (kick ass. you MUST have it)
Oxford Dictionary
VLK GPS (its doesn't have GPS but can communicate with a GPS device via Bluetooth)
Compass (Yes, it works!!)

Some good games
NFS Carbon
Splinter Cell: Double Agent
Sudoku
Sonic the Hedgehog - Amazing resemblance to the Sega original

The only reason I even liked Nokia/Symbian phones were for its applications and installable games. So long, Nokia.

Um yeah, one last thing. I totally love this phone.

Its over, thank God

Phew! Chronicling this trek has been a royal pain in the neck. I promise to never venture into writing such lengthy blog posts again. I just hope the occasional photos made it a worthwhile reading experience. I always remember fondly the books I used to read which had illustrations, which made them all the more pleasurable..

Okay, so that's that. Trek's over. I won't be writing about Rohtang now anyways - though in some ways it was a semi life-altering experience and even though Manali is a splendid place - I'll write about it another day.

Back to Aut.

We woke up comfortably and four of us took a walk to an adjoining hill. We talked for a while, and I tried in vain to take some pictures of birds. I decided to get a new camera.

Another dog at the camp

After breakfast we started off on our way. Chetan went ahead with Dimple in a bus. We started off together. My seat was fixed and my hand was feeling painless too.

This stretch had it's shares of highs and lows. There were some uphill climbs and several downhill slopes but could be managed without stopping considerably. I took off, hungry for some 16th gear riding and had a lovely time. I caught up with Uncle who had left much before us and then decided to hang out with him. We were together till the end of the ride.

We came to the 3km tunnel and again, it was a spectacular experience. A long tunnel with minimal lighting and oncoming traffic - I think it was a very good way to end the trek.

Uncle and I at the tunnel

I fastened my torch on my helmet for the tunnel stretch

We were welcomed by the cook cum cycle mechanic.I tried my final few tries at a wheelie and I'd like to state that I am now able to do it on cycle!

I loved this Fox

That done, and a victory drink later, our bikes were back to the garage to be locked up. We freshened up and chilled out. Our cook made an excellent lunch; sort of the congratulate us, I guess.

By evening there was some talk of riots happening somewhere. These were some folks from Rajasthan who were striking/rioting against the Govt., claiming minority status for their community. Most trains were cancelled, and Uncle, Manish, Chetan and Ved were in a dilemma. Sumedh and I had some plans to go over to Manali and check out Rohtang Pass.

Finally they got plane tickets for the 5th - three days from that day. Which meant they could come along for the Manali trip!! I was thrilled.. there was a lot more to come!
Harry couldn't make it though - he had some other prior commitments.

Well thats how it ends. Summer of 2007 in the Himalayas. Cycling upto 12,000 ft., 52 kilometers, 4 days. A couple of awesome people, excellent bikes and relaxed camp leaders. Fantastic.


Day 9. Aut to Manali.

We packed our bags and another well prepared breakfast and got ourselves ready. We had a certificate distributing ceremony..

L to R: Dimple, Uncle handing me the certificate, Helper at the Camp, Myself, and our friendly cook/cycle repairer

And we got on the next bus to Manali. We were to indulge in white water rafting and rent some bikes the next day to Rohtang Pass.

We left Aut. We had been on an expedition. It was a success.

Jalori

I was a little disappointed about the fact that there was no snow in this place. Yes, it was too much to expect at this altitude and that season..

Breakfast of thick aloo paranthas. The first on this trek. I had several huge ones :D

On the way to the lake


A house wedged inside a rock

All this time I was out of touch with home; my phone service Hutch having exhausted all my balance mysteriously. I later learnt that roaming wasn't free.

We took a hike to a lake, which was a landmark. We saw large flocks of sheep on the way - and it was a pretty long hike.

Jalori Lake

The lake was calm - water looked mucky. There were some rocky ledges where we made our way to..



There was a temple too, adjoining the lake. Some rituals were going on and I remembered Tintin in Tibet where the Captain was supposed to go around a religious structure only from the left - else it would bring bad luck. Anyhoo, touristy glances later we made our way back.

The trek called for us to spend a day at the summit - but the fellows from Vishakapatnam wanted to go back early so that they could accommodate a trip to some hot springs at Manikaran. This led to considerable discontent from Dimple and Uncle. We decided to leave that day anyway.

A lunch later, we assembled for the usual group photo at the summit.

Our group in front of the temple at Jalori.

And we left for Banjar.




There was nothing much we did at Jalori, I suppose. This whole trip was about making a journey by cycle, tackling altitude, steep roads, exhaustion, drastic climate changes, while carrying your own luggage; but at the same time, having a magnificent cycle and breathtaking scenery to behold. I think it was well worth it.

I think there were some warnings by Dimple to take it easy, for now all we had to do was go downhill. I had been waiting for this for a very long time. Every step we took to come this way would now pay off.
I think we even may have decided to go in a group.. or something..

We flagged off. Immidiately I noticed my rear brakes were not working. Dimple had failed to change the brake pads.
There was not much avenues to get irritated. I was going so fast! Yes, I could slow down with the front brakes somewhat.. but I had never gone so fast on a cycle before. The handlebars were rattling over the poorer stretches. We were eating up miles that we used to cover in hours in just a few minutes! It was thrilling. And it was deadly. This was a valley after all, and there were the occasional cars and buses.

I had very poor gloves on. I could feel my palms burning whenever I reached for the brakes. We passed Sojha in a flash. By then I was on my own, more or less, having overtaken most of the guys.

Manish came by from behind and zoomed past me.

He was quite experienced and I could only look on in awe as he maneuvered deftly around corners, skidding just enough to make a 'power slide' and escape the corner. He would jump over speed breakers and simply be too fast on stretches. I somehow tried to catch up.. in vain of course. As such I didn't have the brakes either; so I tried to keep him in crosshairs at least.

But I had to stop. My palms were burning. The handlebar vibrated quite a bit - and led to a lot of friction between the grip and my palms. Further, I was over-using my front brake because of which my right hand was considerably strained. I stopped on the side to examine the damage - and I saw a bit of skin had peeled off from my palm. I kept staring at it and saw, to my horror blood collecting to form a well demarcated hematoma.

Ugh! The hematoma. Really restricted my downhill speeds :(

Shit. I wasn't too bothered by that red boil on my hand - I was just worried that I wouldn't be able to continue such high speed antics without compromising the bursting of this God forsaken boil. I wrapped my hand with my bandana and put the useless glove over it - it still gave me an uncomfortable feeling whenever I gripped the handlebar. I put a sock over the whole glove and then I felt remarkably cushioned. I did something similat with the other hand and pushed off.

To my surprise, I reached Jibhi in less than an hour, in spite of the stops. I saw some bikes parked over at Auny's dabha and stopped over. After eliciting deep sighs over the ghastly boil I had, we settled down and refilled ourselves. Manish gave me some bandages while Harsimran generously donated his gloves, which were well padded. He was happy to take mine. It was a damn nice gesture, and the new gloves immediately felt better. Harry took off along with Uncle.

Manish and Sumedh had tied their cameras on their chest with an ingenious use of ropes and knots. The cameras were quite secure, and they managed to take some excellent high speed downhill videos.

Manish and I took off together. We were joined by Chetan and Ved when we stopped for a photo op.

Yeppo, that be me

Apparantly Sumedh had his usual bike jinx again and this time he was unable to pedal at all. The final straw, I guess. He could only roll downhill by gravity. We figured he'll take some time, and even ventured to go on a detour to check out some sights while he would catch up - but chucked the idea after a few pedals as there was uphill climbing involved! We went back on our route.

By this time I noticed that my seat again started to tilt.. and this time it was actually at an acute angle whenever I sat on it. I had to get off, and readjust the seat and pedal for about 30 seconds and then again adjust the seat. I didn't sit on it much, and stood on the pedals for the better part of the time. Manish and I went far ahead of Ved and Chetan, and we waited for them at Banjar Bus Stop, a few kilometeres away from our Banjar camp. We were to rendezvous with Dimple here.

Ved came by. Chetan had an accident.

On a turn, he collided against a Jeep. He was all right - just a little shaken up. Dimple appeared - and in his swearing element he took Chetan to a hospital for a checkup.
His bike was ruined, and he did not ride for the rest of the trip.

Manish and I decided to wait for Sumedh who we thought wouldbe behind us - and hour or so later we called some folks at the Banjar camp and they said he was one of the first to reach! Puzzled as to how he could have overtaken us without us noticing - he may have bypassed us while we went on our detour. We tried to make a quick break for the camp.

We weren't so quick for two reasons. Number 1..

I think - photos like this deserve awards

And Number 2 : It was impossible for me to ride by now. There were some flat stretches and I couldn't just keep standing on the pedals, as my seat was so loose it would tilt at the slightest force. We did make it of course.

At Banjar there was a serious discord among some of the members. One group wanted to leave for Manikaran that day itself, and Dimple would have none of it. A compromise was reached : They would leave early next morning. I had a feeling they would shove their bikes on to a Jeep and ride all the way back.

Banjar in the evening

We took a walk around the town, Dimple as the tour guide - it was dark and we chit-chatted outside a kirana shop. Chetan had a soft spot for dogs. He befriended this one, and I suspect he had serious thoughts of how to carry him home.

Myself, with the aforementioned canine

Same old dinner back at the camp. There was custard for dessert and I remember having only that.

Day 7. Sojha and Jalori, albeit a few hiccups..

Phew! I thought I'd just document the trek for kicks but its taking too long!

Day 7. To Sojha and Jalori.

It was a good night's sleep. I woke up later than most of the guys. I even managed to warm up and stretch at a scenic bridge nearby.

Breakfast was a much welcome bread with omelettes and butter/jam. I love it every time. Of course, thanks to the vegetarian stand of two members I was able to have an eggstra.

I thought I'd go and have a hot bath at the previously discovered toilet.. imagin e my suprise when I saw aunty in there washing her clothes, staring at me incredulously. Jeezus, this was her bathroom! After mumbling some oh's and 'i thought's' went off into the real toilet, which was a grim reminder of another bathless day.

As we took our bikes out I noticed a tilt in my seat. There was a bolt missing from one side. Dimple couldn't repair it - he told me to bear with it till the summit.

We took off together this time. Before leaving, I took one last look at the sign outside aunty's dabha. Chingri lodge. To my surprise I saw a picture of a chillum at the edge of the sign. Aha!

I thought this time, we'd go in a group.. yeah, that was true for the first kilometer. Manish and Harry overtook us within a few minutes. Ved too pushed off with his cycle. Understandably, the other group started walking with their bikes almost immidiately. What a waste.

Sumedh realised his bike was running only on second gear. It couldn't go to first. That was the last straw. We noticed one of those Andhra fellows who had 'taken' his Firefox walking leisurely with his cycle. Immidiately we got him to take the Thunder instead as he wasn't riding anyway, and buzzed off.

This was the toughest climb. It was impossible to pedal for 4-5 steps even. Amidst the frequent breaks, the most torturous parts were the turns. I remember some turns where I had to stop every pedalling step.

'Breather'
Picture by Sumedh

As we were lumbering forward I realized that the breaks were inevitable. And clearly the breaks were not providing enough time for our muscles to rest between pedaling surges. All this led to a disorganized mess, and more and more Lactic Acid accumulating in out muscles.
I thus formulated a strategy. We would pedal for a while continu ously.. and then stop for a few paces and then start again, repeating the 'cycle'. And to ensure just enough Oxygen goes in as required, I decided to take our number of breaths as a benchmark.

Thus we would pedal for 20 breaths - and rest for 10 - and pedal again for 20 breaths. This would lead to a steady and much faster progress.
And it did!

We started picking up pace..

By then, it was 1:00pm. And then it started to rain.

We luckily found ourselves in the surroundings of a cafe-lodge where we quickly deposited ourselves. After parking the bikes inside, we rested our sorry asses inside the warm inn. It was made of wood.. so were most of the houses here, and I gather this must be the cheapest place for wood in the country.

Anyways. We ordered hot Maggi noodles. My shirt was drenched and I was feeling cold under my wind-cheater. As unbearable as it was I changed it - but quickly realised that all my T-shirts were cotton - and would stay drenched for a long time.
Our Andhra friend, with his new Thunder joined us.

Chetan appeared out of the blue.

He had gone much ahead - but came back looking for us. Apparently it was raining heavily higher up.

At the Cafe

We enjoyed the Maggi, (which I suspect was Top Ramen, but that's even better) and were plesantly surprised to find the bill less than Rs.20/- per person. We bonded pretty well with the man from Andhra and I wondered where this animosity had come about earlier. We had tea; I remembered Naveen telling me once that it is a custom in Andhra to have tea after meals. Its a good custom. But the tea was just okay.

It stopped raining and we lumbered ahead, but with a renewed vigour. We had only a few hours left though - for it was about 2pm. One should reach by 4, and by 6 it gets too dark to travel.

We saw Uncle speeding downhill and he stopped in front of us. He was visibly shaken up and fatigue was written all over his face. Apparently some of them couldn't take it any more and decided to take a Jeep for the rest of the journey. Pretty soon the other Andhra guys followed and they were more than happy to take a ride on the next transport vehicle that came up. Expected.

A Jeep came by with space for the fatigued lot and their bikes. Sumedh, by now frustrated with his luck with cycles, took the best off their lot; which was Uncle's Firefox. He was just happy to get out of there!

Miniature berries - they tasted exactly like strawberries

Off they went, and off we went. A 500m climb which felt like an eternity later, we spotted Ved. His cycle stalled.

There was a problem with the chain. It was stuck at the dérailleurs and refused to budge. Using our engineering skills, we took apart the wheel..




..fiddled with the chain..

..and came up with this.


Ok, so we couldn't fix it. But at least we'd start moving. We asked two cars that were passing by to send the message that we'd be late.

By now it was about 4:45. It was too late to even reach Jalori, as it was rapidly getting dark. We trudged along, and Dimple appeared on a Jeep.

He was furious. One look at Ved's bike and he was now a man possessed. Yelling and screaming he started piling up the bikes on the Jeep. We pleaded with him to at least let us go ahead by bike. This was our goal after all, we couldn't chicken out by taking a Jeep. A lot of negotiating later he let us climb giving us a deadline of one hour. He took our bags though. Ved tried to remove his cycle saying he wanted to drag it to the top for honor's sake - Dimple would have none of THAT. That said, he took off.

1 hour. We had 3 kilometres left to cycle uphill. We were off.

There's nothing much to say about the journey ahead. We were pushing ourselves to the max. It was getting dark, and all that was on our heads were the milestones every 500 meters and the ticking clock. I was getting exhausted. Water was also out. It was getting cold.

Sumedh was quick. Both Chetan and I met up with him at a stream where we had our final pit stop. We refilled our water bottles and opened a pack of glucose biscuits. I gobbled them and drank about 600ml of ice cold water at one go. We waited for a while.

The stream was below this road. Chetan here. Picture by Sumedh. They were waiting for me.

Big mistake.

I started feeling cold. Then chills. And then I started shivering. The temperature didn't drop or anything. I was getting hypothermic. It was the water.
It was a shock, you know - to feel like that on top of the exhaustion. I took extra jackets from Chetan and Sumedh and started pedalling away. I thought maybe I could warm up my muscles enough for this phase to pass by. It worked, I suppose. Chetan and Sumedh went up ahead. I took more frequent breaks, but this time to take pictures. And what beautiful pictures!

I think I fell in love with my Cybershot P8 all over again after the above pics

I didn't see them till the end of the climb. It was just me, the bike and about 500meters of steep incline. The distance didn't matter any more. At least no one will come and pick me up in a Jeep.

A tremendous incline. Took my breath away just by looking at it. But it was the last..

A milestone appeared : Jalori - 0. I was there.

Dimple was around. He was smiling. "Phat gayee?" was his first reaction. I said Yeah. The seat was killing my rear, as it was tilted. I asked him to fix it the earliest. Anyways I had to take my bike to a house. I could hardly lift it over a couple of stairs - Chetan was waiting for me.. he took the following picture..

Exhausted!

I had 2 jackets on, I was drenched from inside, it was getting pretty cold. I wasn't shivering any more, and my legs felt like they would give way. It got really dark really fast. It was done.

We took this photo. I take pride in the fact that we were the only ones to pedal every 'step' and corner of the way.

"Agni Lomdi"

As I went inside the early birds who had arrived first (by Jeep, but of course) were nicely tucked in. They were visibly exhausted as well. I changed, but started feeling cold again. Most of my clothes were damp. I found a good one somewhere, hung other clothes to dry and took a walk.

This was a nice place. There was a temple adjoining the room we were staying in. A wide, green meadow leading to a valley, still having some cows grazing. It was a very small town with few shops but no visible houses. We had dinner in the dark. Water was scarce so we were supposed to be frugal. I remembered the stream 500m away. Anyways we had a reasonably good dinner - bland as it was it was compensated by raw onions and tomatoes in plenty. "Eat the onions" Dimple said. "They'll keep you warm".
I sensed a discontent from him regarding the older group. Well it didn't take an idiot to figure that out, he was verbally abusing them every second they were not present.

We went off to our room to sleep, where we were offered Bournvita. :D the obsequious Bournvita. I was just irritated about cleaning the cup I drank it from. We drifted away pretty easily.

Day 6. Banjar to Jibhi (Aunty da Dabha)

I knew this trek was going be difficult, but I had this feeling at the back of my head that maybe, in order to accommodate people of all age groups and fitness levels, this trek might lack a certain challenge. After all we were not g
oing off-road on this trek as such, and neither were we doing something radical like trudging through snow.

But the thing is, that this trek could be made as challenging as you want it to be. It is up to you, and not to the route you are in. That was what I started realizing on this day, and I shall explain it a little better.

Day 6. The Road to Aunty da Dabha.

Morning began like all mornings. We had an edible breakfast and started packing our things. I was quite possessive of the bike I was about to ride. In fact I had 'marked' it with a micropore to distinguish it from the others. But some of us hadn't.

The Vishakapatnam group announced that they would leave before the rest of us youngsters as they would be riding slower than us 'speed freaks'. Uncle decided to go with them.

Already there was a 'group' mentality that was doing the rounds. The Vishakapatnam fellows kept to themselves, and although I think the rest of us were equally free with everybody on this trip, we could not blend with everyone as it is expected. Uncle kept flitting between camps but I think he was more worried about his own health than this politics nonsense.

As they were leaving, they asked us for one of our Firefoxes. I don't think anyone of us were in such a generous mood that morning, but Chetan to my immense surprise promised them his cycle for the next day after today's ride. Okays exchanged, we went on with our work.

We were supposed to take 'packed lunch' i.e. fill up our tiffin boxes for lunch that day. One look at the bhaji, which looked the same as the days before turned me off. I decided to fill my tiffing with only rotis, which were by itself quite tasty. Whenever others asked me why the hell I wasn't taking any vegetable along with it, I used to mumble someone else is carrying that for me.

As we went up to our bikes, Sumedh couldn't find his Fox. There was instead a Thunder next to a tree. They had taken his bike.

The climb was at once steeper than any of yesterday's climbs. I had some energy to push myself in the first hundred or so metres uphill.. but that was it. It was a climb all right. After a while I noticed one of my chappals that I attach to the rucksack had fallen off so I had to go back and come up again. Very irritating.

On the way Uncle we spied uncle at a juice shop and he invited us for fruit juice. We had apple and litchi juice off a bottle - pretty good, but sugary. Uncle had several litchi drinks - apparently he adored the stuff. Pit stop over, off we went.

We came across a town, where Sumedh was sitting on the ground with his bike against a house. Our first problem. The wheel of his bike had an "out" i.e. it was aligned at an angle. You see, this cycle was ridden by the other group the day before, and it even encountered a puncture. The alignment was skewed after the puncture repair. We dragged the bike with the stuck rear wheel searching for a mechanic on the road. We found one eventually. Manish was also around - his chain had come off the rear sprocket. He had got the mechanic to oil his chain but apparently too much was used.

Sumedh fiddles with his bike while Uncle loses his temper. God knows why.

All this took about half an hour. It was, I suppose a somewhat frustrating time but all the while, one is having a view overlooking a valley lush with pine trees on one side, and hills on the other. It is hard to lost your temper at a place like this.

As we took off, Manish sped away. From all of us, Manish and Harry were the ones most adept at cycling. He was out of sight after a while. Sumedh, Chetan and I slowly chugged along; but taking too many breaks.

But I was on a Firefox.

The bike was every bit better than the Thunder. It was much heavier too, and it was evident on the uphill. But the ride was smoother, the gears changed even more effortlessly. The grip-shifts felt as if it was forged for the racetrack - such is the quality. The braking is spot on. I just found the seat - softer than the Thunder as it was - a little uncomfortable.

Traversing
Picture by Sumedh

We took too many breaks in the middle of our climb. We met this old man who habitually fed birds who would sit on his hat to eat his tidbits.

I started having the rotis, to the amused look of me friends. Hey, its carbs. And the veggies taste awful. They are also the gas generating kind.

I think I used to pedal every 15 seconds or so and then stop for 15-30 seconds. It was impossible for my legs to keep up the pace. My thighs groaned with every step. But we pedaled all the way.

Even at this pace I expected to catch up with the Vishakapatnam fellows - but usually they ended up in sighting distance only to vanish for some time. They were walking all the way, you see. While climbing uphill one can effortlessly cover ground by simply walking with the cycle instead of riding it. I noticed that they did not climb a single inch by riding their bikes.
Chetan, Sumedh and I decided we would not follow such tactics at any cost - the true test of endurance - or the challenge I was referring to earlier would be: to cross the pass solely by pedaling and by no other way. It was a pact!

Look closely beyond me (the first cyclist). Two of the Vishakapatnam fellows taking a 'short cut' by dragging their beautiful bikes over rocks. Pathetic.
Picture by Sumedh

An anecdote before we end our tiring bike journey. Sumedh and I caught up with the guy who had mooched the Fox on the previous day. We told him about todays incident but he just mumbled something and sped off. I managed to say to my compatriot, a la The Fast and the Furious : "Smoke Him". Which, by Jove, we did.

Local kids were always only too happy to see us
Picture by Sumedh

The three of us somehow made it to Jibhi village, after which there was a further steep incline of about 500 metres to reach Aunty da Dabha. We were by now, reflexively 'traversing' - a term Harry told me the next day for what we were doing. By now my back had gotten used to the rucksack which was torturous the day before - but my bum was paining even more.

Taken by Sumedh

Aunty da Dabha.
The three of us were the last to reach the Dabha. It had some other name - Chingri-La or something. I was well aware of the warnings about the food at this place, so I tread warily. After parking our cycles at a makeshift garage, I spied Manish and Harry supervising the gardener to fill water at a tank (supposed swimming pool). It rained soon after anyway, so they couldn't get to swim. Poor gardener.

Aunty had a biggish garden with many botanical species, but I distinctly remember huge roses. I don't take pictures of flowers or plants in general for it is a tremendously boring exercise. One does not remember pictures of flowers. Unless it is a collective picture, like that of a meadow with tiny yellow flowers. Or that Van Gogh painting.

The only 'chick' we saw on this trek. At Aunty da Dabha. Isn't she hot?
Picture by Sumedh

Anyway, we were led to unwind in a room. Here too, we berthed in a room, not a tent. In fact, Banjar was the only stop where we tented. Thank God.
This was a wooden house, well insulated and quite dry. This was an inn of some sort, apparantly, and YHAI hastily commissioned Aunty to house us campers every few days.
Aunt herself was a single woman who ascended (one does not descent upon the Himalaya, does one?) from Punjab or Delhi - with a truckload of cash to set up this nice little inn primarily catering to foreigners.

Our camp leader by now was a sporting young chap called 'Dimple'. He looked anything unlike a Dimple would look like, though. A mustached slender fellow who was never seen in anything other than tracksuits, and only had obscenities to speak of the camp leader at the base camp. Apparently he did not orient or instruct us, or any other participant in general. I had trouble speaking to him in Hindi. Its not like I can't speak the language - I couldn't understand his Punjabi dialect so whenever I was with him I pretended to laugh at what he was saying - usually it was some funny stuff anyway. Maybe I was laughing at myself, I dunno. Who cares.

Chetan and Ved shared the same sentiments as I as far as food was concerned. Th three of us were the only hard core non vegetarians on this trip. We decided to sneak away for some meats from the locals.

Other than some suspicious looking joints we didn't come across anything. We went inside what was called a bakery with a Sardarji hanging around - he led us to a house a few paces away. It was raining. We came to some sort of a restaurant - a room with few benches and ordered the only non veg items he had at the moment - Scrambled eggs.
We asked him for some meat. Sheep, Chetan insisted. Apparently he had seen a flock a while ago and that caught his eye/hypothalamus. Sardarji offered to prepare it for us the next day - 1 kg for hundred bucks.
A steal! 1kg curried mutton - sheep meat, alas, but hey! It was tempting. We accepted.
The cook, however, who was his son had a discussion and he being a more sensible fellow I think, hiked the price to Rs. 150. Still somewhat of a steal considering the circumstances. Unable to bargain and somewhat satiated by the eggs, we told them we'll come by later in the evening and let them know. We didn't.



Dimple took us for a walk through the village. There were some pretty sights - water pools, wheat fields, apple orchards and wooden houses. I managed to mingle with some locals. Very friendly fellows, invited me to their house and all. This is India, baby. And this is Himachal.

Me, with Fields of Gold (Sorry, couldn't resist)

That's how small apples look on trees

Aunty just kept yelling at her cooks/servants but she was nice to us. I couldn't get myself to trust her- there was something fishy about this whole place. It lent a certain vibe. I was to find out the next day.Aunty with Dimple (tracksuit). Sorry, only pic of Aunty. Ved also seen, extreme left espying a local map.

The guys outside her inn.

Dinner was a disaster. Most of the guys found it okay, good even. Either something was wrong with my sense of taste or others were adapting.

Dinner: Rotis, Rice, Assorted vegetable Casserole (Simla Mirchi, potatoes, tomatoes - quite spiceless and tasteless), a 'kadi' (yellow gravy - I am never a fan of that.. again tasteless), some pickles (I've given up on pickle in this area). Dessert was good. I had dessert.

The toilet was amazing. There was a running hot and cold water, a water heater, western commode with toilet paper all ready - even a light bulb and a mirror. I took a mental note to have a hot bath the next day.
The others looked at me puzzled as they had not noticed the water heater. I thought maybe I have superior powers of observation, and went to sleep content.

We were given sleeping bags this time. Sumedh said something about these bags being designed to be slept in naked - something to do about body heat and better surface area exposure to heat - a disturbing thought as these bags are handed over from one camp to the other. Oh but we are modest Indians. Noone will have slept naked in these bags.

The usual midnight Bournvita and lack of camp fire later, we easily drifted to sleep.