An Indian Journey through Lent, Day 34
Diversity & Contrast II
After returning from Church on Sunday morning Lena and I left Shimla a little before midday, on the 7 hour trip back to Manali. We decided to travel by a back route because it seemed to be significantly shorter than via the highway, sections of which, due to heavy rain and traffic, had been badly damaged. Our trip turned into a minor epic! We did not know that it included crossing the 3,120 metre high Jalori Pass, which is featured among India’s most dangerous roads!
(http://www.dangerousroads.org/india/887-jalori-pass-india.html)
The trip took us to some really remote places, climbing repeatedly from narrow river valleys to precipitous peaks. Well, it seemed remote, until around the next bend would be a village. At one point our way along the one lane Highway 11 (That means one lane in total, not in each direction! Imagine passing a bus or truck going in the opposite direction with sheer rock face on one side a precipice on the other!) was blocked by several thoroughly modern misses accompanied by a young man. There was a moment of hilarity as the girl on her inevitable mobile phone, being dragged in opposite directions off the road by her friends, realised that it was two “angrez” (Europeans) who were bearing down on her!
Although Jalori Pass has now been opened after winter there is still at least a metre of snow beside the road which is inevitably muddy, slushy and slippery. Having been forced into first gear by the steep ascent for many kilometres leading up to the pass I then had to use first gear as a brake for many kilometres downwards. It started snowing, then raining as we descended, and the windscreen wipers worked overtime. Yet even here was a moment of hilarity. Various parties of Indians drove (bravely or foolhardily) to the summit in their sedans to experience snow. One group - a couple of young men and a young woman - were gambolling around, throwing snowballs. “No, no, no, don’t you dare!” I called out through the open window. But the young woman, not a bit demure, certainly dared!
Eventually we reached lower terrain, and a road we had travelled before. We had been following Google Maps and, to be fair, that had enabled Lena to give me correct advice a number of times. However, at this point, nearly as the end of our adventure, Ms Google Maps led us awfully astray. Just as, once before she had led me through Chandigarh’s industrial estate to a freeway that is still under construction, she now led us onto a decommissioned road. Some years ago the river valley we were now driving along had been dammed. Suddenly a landslide forced me to stop, which was just as well, because behind that I could see the road disappearing underwater! I turned Shadowfax II around (It couldn’t have been more than a 12 point turn!), drove back to the main road and resorted to the traditional Indian direction-finding method. Stopping beside the first people we saw I called out “Bhaiya! Kerhan Kullu hai?” (Brother, where’s [the town of] Kullu?) Lena put the question in more refined terms, and when the 2 men got over their shock at being addressed in Hindi by two Angrez we discovered that we were very nearly correct. Ms Google Maps had just wanted us to travel up the old highway, on the wrong side of the river. How was she to know that it was now underwater and the new highway now disappeared into a tunnel?
The rest of the journey was a doddle really…except for the fellow who decided to try and force us off the road while we were overtaking him, the many who refused to turn off their hi-beams as we approached, the section of highway that has been turned into a washboard by a flood a few years ago… But Shadowfax II was, once again, magnificent, an adjective we can use to describe the terrain through which we were blessed to pass safely yesterday. It was truly a day filled with diversity and contrast.
Diversity & Contrast II
After returning from Church on Sunday morning Lena and I left Shimla a little before midday, on the 7 hour trip back to Manali. We decided to travel by a back route because it seemed to be significantly shorter than via the highway, sections of which, due to heavy rain and traffic, had been badly damaged. Our trip turned into a minor epic! We did not know that it included crossing the 3,120 metre high Jalori Pass, which is featured among India’s most dangerous roads!
(http://www.dangerousroads.org/india/887-jalori-pass-india.html)
The trip took us to some really remote places, climbing repeatedly from narrow river valleys to precipitous peaks. Well, it seemed remote, until around the next bend would be a village. At one point our way along the one lane Highway 11 (That means one lane in total, not in each direction! Imagine passing a bus or truck going in the opposite direction with sheer rock face on one side a precipice on the other!) was blocked by several thoroughly modern misses accompanied by a young man. There was a moment of hilarity as the girl on her inevitable mobile phone, being dragged in opposite directions off the road by her friends, realised that it was two “angrez” (Europeans) who were bearing down on her!
Although Jalori Pass has now been opened after winter there is still at least a metre of snow beside the road which is inevitably muddy, slushy and slippery. Having been forced into first gear by the steep ascent for many kilometres leading up to the pass I then had to use first gear as a brake for many kilometres downwards. It started snowing, then raining as we descended, and the windscreen wipers worked overtime. Yet even here was a moment of hilarity. Various parties of Indians drove (bravely or foolhardily) to the summit in their sedans to experience snow. One group - a couple of young men and a young woman - were gambolling around, throwing snowballs. “No, no, no, don’t you dare!” I called out through the open window. But the young woman, not a bit demure, certainly dared!
Eventually we reached lower terrain, and a road we had travelled before. We had been following Google Maps and, to be fair, that had enabled Lena to give me correct advice a number of times. However, at this point, nearly as the end of our adventure, Ms Google Maps led us awfully astray. Just as, once before she had led me through Chandigarh’s industrial estate to a freeway that is still under construction, she now led us onto a decommissioned road. Some years ago the river valley we were now driving along had been dammed. Suddenly a landslide forced me to stop, which was just as well, because behind that I could see the road disappearing underwater! I turned Shadowfax II around (It couldn’t have been more than a 12 point turn!), drove back to the main road and resorted to the traditional Indian direction-finding method. Stopping beside the first people we saw I called out “Bhaiya! Kerhan Kullu hai?” (Brother, where’s [the town of] Kullu?) Lena put the question in more refined terms, and when the 2 men got over their shock at being addressed in Hindi by two Angrez we discovered that we were very nearly correct. Ms Google Maps had just wanted us to travel up the old highway, on the wrong side of the river. How was she to know that it was now underwater and the new highway now disappeared into a tunnel?
The rest of the journey was a doddle really…except for the fellow who decided to try and force us off the road while we were overtaking him, the many who refused to turn off their hi-beams as we approached, the section of highway that has been turned into a washboard by a flood a few years ago… But Shadowfax II was, once again, magnificent, an adjective we can use to describe the terrain through which we were blessed to pass safely yesterday. It was truly a day filled with diversity and contrast.
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